Brian Jacques - The Rogue Crew

To seek a better view, all three climbed to the hilltop behind the camp. News spread quickly; soon almost all the Patrol were up beside them. Having exceptionally good sight, Lady Wildstripe soon picked out the vermin on the heathland. “Hmm, it’s a bit misty out there, but that might be them, eh, Major?”

Felton Fforbes shielded his eyes as sunlight turned the mist into a blanket of golden tendrils. “Looks like ’em, Milady, about the same number I’d say. But they fled from us last night, so why are they runnin’ back toward us in such a blinkin’ hurry? They’re not even tryin’ to sneak up on us, like vermin do. Very strange, marm!”

The reason became startlingly clear a moment later. Folderum shouted wildly, “It’s the ship! Look . . . the ship!”

The vessel Greenshroud emerged, riding a breeze, which was dispersing the mist lazily. Amongst the young hares speculation ran rife.

“Are they showin’ their crew where we are?”

“Looks like we’ve got a real battle t’face now, chaps!”

“Well, stand by, buckoes—true blue an’ never fail, wot!” The major rapped out an order. “Everybeast down below this hilltop. Don’t dare show an eartip until I see what’s goin’ on. Smartly now!”

They obeyed with alacrity, but not without comment.

“I say, aren’t we goin’ to fight ’em, sah?”

“Not like warrior hares, hidin’ from a jolly old scrap, eh?”

Lady Wildstripe’s voice silenced further speculation. “It’s not a matter of hiding from a fight. Do as the major says. The way they’re running, it looks like the ship may be chasing them. It could be some sort of mutiny amongst the crew, vermin fighting vermin.”

Peasblossom chuckled. “Oh, I say, wouldn’t that save us a blinkin’ job, wot. It’d cut the odds down a bit, Milady.”

The badger nodded. “Perhaps it would. Let’s wait and see.”

The major interrupted. “That ship had a large crew last time it visited Salamandastron. Even if they slew those vermin who are runnin’, we’d still be well outnumbered. Milady, the best thing we could do is retreat to our mountain.’Twould give us more of a fightin’ chance.”

The Badger Lady lay flat, peering over the hilltop. “You’re right, of course, Major, but I’d like to see the outcome of this incident first. They’re closer now—it’s the gang who were here last night, sure enough.”

Overcome by curiosity, the major and the rest of the contingent joined her to watch. Like all young hares, they kept up a commentary.

“Hah, those runners are slowin’ down. Must be winded, wot!”

“Oh, look, a band have jumped from the ship. They’re after ’em like Billyoh!”

“Haha, so they are! C’mon, you rascals, give those other rascals a spot o’ blood’n’vinegar. Get ’em!”

Lady Wildstripe stood up abruptly, in full view. “Those beasts that came from the ship—they’re not vermin, they’re otters . . . and hares, too!”

The screams of falling vermin mixed on the breeze with fierce ringing war cries.

“Yaylahooooh!”

“Eulaliiiiaaaaa!”

Drawing his sword, the major ran toward the conflict. “That’s Cap’n Rake. I’d know those twin claymores anywhere! Aye, an’ there’s Sarn’t Miggory. Eulaliiiiaaaa, you chaps!”

The Patrol drew blades and lances, dashing along with him. “Eulaliiiiaaaa! Eulaliiiiiaaaaa!”

Skor Axehound despatched the last vermin with a mighty sweep of his battleaxe. He leaned on the haft, nodding at the approaching patrol. “Looks like some o’ yore young bucks, Rake, tryin’ to make a name for themselves. A bit late I’d say, eh?”

Rake Nightfur wiped his blades on a slain corsair before sheathing them across his back.

“Aye, Ah reckernise Major Fforbes by his war cry. Och, he’s a braw singer, the noo. But Ah cannae help wonderin’ what they’re doin’ sae far frae Salamandastron.”

Sergeant Miggory shook his head in disapproval. “Chargin’ off like h’a load o’ bees to brekkist, h’an leavin’ their lady h’on’er own. Bad form, sah!”

Lady Wildstripe could be seen descending the hill with slow dignity. Rake called out, “Bawdsley, Fletchers, Miz Ferrul, hop tae it an’ provide escort for Lady Wildstripe!”

Skor nudged his son Ruggan. “You go, too, an’ mind yore manners. She’s a Mountain Lord . . . er, Lady!”

He signalled to the vessel. “Ahoy, bring ’er for’ard an’ help the Badger Lady aboard when ye reach her. We’ll take her back to Salamandastron in style!”

EPILOGUE

Herein is an extract from the journal of Lady Violet Wildstripe.

Reunions are often a source of both sorrow and joy. Sorrow for the fallen, those valiant ones who gave their lives that their mission should succeed. Joy in welcoming back our Long Patrol comrades. Also the making of new friends, the mighty Skor Axehound and his formidable Rogue Crew. Sea otters are not only brave, fearless beasts, but jolly good company.

The ride back home on a wheeled ship was a wonderful experience. Major Fforbes sent two of his fastest Gallopers ahead to announce our arrival. We rolled smoothly up to Salamandastron—it was a tremendous reception. Even old Colonel Bletgore forsook his noontide nap, appearing resplendent in full dress uniform, bedecked in medals and ribbons from neck-band to midriff. Our hares lined the shore and rock slopes, cheering the warriors’ return.

Such a feast we had on that day. In the main mess hall, I learned something about sea otters, too—they could eat and drink as much as any of my hares. Skor could become a living legend for his massive appetite! The festivities lasted three full days, during which time I learned of the mission I had sent them on, the marches, skirmishes and the strange beasts they encountered. I listened with rapt attention to the report of that final battle on the grounds of Redwall Abbey. Thank the fates and seasons, they emerged victorious.

Both Rake and Skor were slightly crestfallen not to have triumphed against the evil Razzid Wearat. To my surprise, I learned that he was slain by a young hogmaid and an old otter Cellarkeeper. Once the enemy was vanquished, everybeast set to work repairing the vermin ship, as Skor and Rake had plans for it. Fortunately, it is a sturdy craft, and Redwall carpenters volunteered their skills to the task. The vessel was soon restored to its former state. It needs only two things to be altered, the hated mainsail, with its wicked twin eyes peering through the trident prongs, and the dreaded name Greenshroud. However, these will soon be done.

But to get back to the report given. Once the ship was both seaworthy and landworthy, the Rogue Crew and Long Patrol took their leave of the Abbey. They set course for Salamandastron whilst pursuing those searats and corsairs who had deserted the battle at Redwall. Everybeast agreed that such hardened, murderous vermin could not be left alive to terrorise and slay any innocent creatures they came across. Even though their quarry had a long head start, they needed to forage for food and halt to rest, unlike the great wheeled ship, which could travel both night and day. They dealt summarily with quite a number of vermin. Their last encounter was with the band who had attempted to ambush us the previous night. I stood on a hilltop, witnessing it all. No quarter was given, no surrender permitted. The last of that barbarous crew paid the final price for their vile ways.

So, Captain Rake’s mission has been accomplished. We are all looking ahead, planning for the future. I have formed an alliance with Skor Axehound between Salamandastron and the High North Coast. We are to share the ownership of the wheeled ship, which will be renamed the Posy Gurdy. This is in honour of the young hogmaid and the old otter who rid the earth of that vile Razzid Wearat. A new mainsail has been designed; it will be white canvas with a depiction of two paws grasped in friendship, that of a sea otter and a Long Patrol hare. Now our seas and shores will be fully protected.