Brian Jacques - Redwall #16 - Triss

Thy craft lies ready. I wish to thank thee for bringing Welfo to our island. She will be a wife to my son and a daughter to Downyrose and myself. Mayhap the seas will carry ye back this way one day, who knows?

Speak no more now, but go, Let good fortune attend thee and may thy desires be fulfilled, the earth needs good creatures like thee.

No sooner had they cast off than the small craft was swept out into a swiftly running sea, even without the aid of a sail. Triss took the tiller as Shogg unfurled the sail and trimmed up the ropes. The sea made little noise. There were no crests of white foam on the grey-green waves, which moved with an alarming speed and smoothness. When Triss looked back, Peace Island was far away and rapidly diminishing below the horizon.

There was little time for talk or reflection as they hurtled along with the massive oily swells. Shogg relieved the squirrelmaid at the tiller, allowing her to prepare some food for them both. Triss glanced anxiously at the towering green walls of water as the ketch scudded from valley to peak of each one. There was hardly any wind, yet the current was running faster.

She enquired cautiously of her friend, Are we still on course, Shogg?

Staring dead ahead and clenching the tiller tight, the otter replied, Can’t say, matey, we’ve even lost sight o’ the island to use as a point.

I reckon we’ll do well just to stay alive in waters like these. Better reef in our sail, Triss, afore a wind springs up. It might come from the wrong direction, an’ these waves’d swamp us.

There was no sign of the high seas abating as darkness fell. It was going to be a long and sleepless night. Taking a crust of bread and a flagon of water, Triss stationed herself in the bows, keeping a lookout for anything at all that lay ahead. She found herself gazing over desolate watery wastes every time they rose on the waveswell.

Shogg manoeuvred the tiller, hoping against hope that Triss might sight land. Dark cloud masses, muddy purple and smoky cream, began obscuring the stars as they boiled up over the horizon ahead. There was no hint of a breeze. Then suddenly an earth-shattering boom crashed overhead and lightning ripped the heavens into fleeting brightness.

Shogg roared at Triss, Get back’ere with me, there’s a big storm brewin’!

The wind came then, howling out of nowhere. It soaked Triss, whipping water over the bows as she retreated to the stern and grabbed the tiller with Shogg.

Squinting their eyes against the blinding rain, they huddled together, awed by the mighty forces of nature. Every moment Shogg expected one of the mountainous waves to crash down on the tiny craft, but miraculously it stayed afloat, still whipping onward over the storm-rent deeps.

Triss dashed water from her eyes, pointing ahead. What’s that?

Shogg saw it also. A light, it’s a light!

Seaspray washed into the squirrelmaid’s mouth as she shouted to make herself heard. Is it land, Shogg?

Prince Bladd lay in his bunk, a blanket wrapped about his head as he wailed in terror, Der shtorm, it vill sink de boat! Help me!

At that same moment, Kurda staggered across the deck, holding on to Captain Riftun’s spearhaft as he went ahead of her. They barged into Plugg’s cabin, where the fox was swilling grog with Tazzin and Grubbage.

He looked up.

Aharr, ‘tis the lovely Princess ‘erself. Wot can ole Cap’n Plugg do for ye on such a pleasant night, me dearie?

Kurda was shaken by the sudden storm, but she would not let the Freebooter see her fear. Is der ship in danger? Vill de shtorm sink us?

Plugg, grog slopping down his chin, grinned crookedly. Nah, it wouldn’t dare sink a ship carryin’ a prince an’ a princess, specially one who’s as good wid a sword as you!

Riftun banged his spear angrily on the table. Watch yore mouth, Plugg.

Is there a safe cabin aboard, one where Princess Kurda can ride out the storm?

Plugg gestured upward with his grog beaker. Aye, there’s one above this on the stern peak, comfy liddle berth. I usually sleep there meself, but ‘er ‘igh royalness can ‘ave it fer the night. Best cabin on the ole Seascab, still as a rock an’ safe as ‘ouses!

Kurda rapped out imperiously. It vill do for der night. Captain Riftun, you vill take me dere!

A mixture of wind, rain and seaspray whooshed into the cabin as Riftun opened the door. He was slammed back against the bulkhead, Kurda with him.

Plugg roared at them, Gerrout an’ shut that door!

The pair departed, with the rat captain struggling to close the door behind them. In the silence that followed, the silver fox hooted with laughter.

Aharrharrharr! Still as a rock an’ safe as ‘ouses? Hawhawhaw! She’ll spend the night goin’ up an’ down like a toad in a bucket. I’ll teach the snotnosed liddle whelp t’stand there givin’ Plugg Firetail orders.

Hawhawhaw!

Grubbage, as usual, had not heard his captain properly. But he joined in the laughter, pretending he had. Heeheehee! A frog an’ a fly take borders. I like that’un, Cap’n. Heeheehee!

Chit on deck, Kurda and Riftun negotiated the small set of stairs to the stern peak, their heads bowed against the storm’s onslaught.

Immediately after they gained the top deck, Kurda knew that Plugg was playing one of his wicked jests on her. The Seascab was rolling wildly, plunging up and down like a madbeast in its death throes. The Princess was flung against the stern rail, where she clung grimly for dear life.

Riftun slithered and skated about on the seaslick deck, then dug his spear point in the timbers and hauled himself to her side. Thunder rumbled out of the distance and banged overhead in a loud explosion.

A sheet of lightning followed. Kurda was bent over the rail, facing the sea. In the brief illumination from the lightning flash, she screeched, There dey are, there dey aaaaaare!

Not half a boatlength away and slightly astern of the Seascab was the small stolen vessel, with Shogg and Triss, soaked to the skin, clinging to the tiller. The small, light craft was rapidly overhauling the huge Freebooter ship. Kurda saw the pair look up, their faces showing clearly in the lights from Plugg’s rear cabin window. She seized Riftun’s paw.

Get one of dem mitt your spear, de streamdog. I vant de other von alive.

T’row, kill der streamdog!

Shogg and Triss were horror-stricken. The light they had been sailing for was a huge Freebooter ship, with their archenemies, Kurda and Riftun, aboard. Frozen with shock, they sat staring up at the mad-eyed Princess urging her captain to slay Shogg. Riftun raised his spear, grinning cruelly down at them. It was a throw he could hardly miss. He brought the weapon back over his shoulder for a stronger cast. Bang! Craaaaaack!

A bolt of lightning struck the iron spearblade.

Hurling the tiller to port, Shogg sent the little craft skipping nimbly by, narrowly missing the Seascab’s stern.

Kurda did not know what had happened for a moment, as she had been watching Shogg, waiting for the spear to strike him. Turning, she saw the rat Captain lying rigid on the deck, every hair on his body standing up like a needle. His paw was welded to the smoking and shattered spear, rain sizzling as it spattered on the momentarily red-hot iron blade.

Riftun was dead as a doornail.

The beautifully built little ship, which Agarnu had commissioned for his royal offspring, flashed by and was swallowed up into the gale-torn night.

Plugg shielded his grog from the wetness that blew in as the cabin door slammed open again. Was you born in a field? Shut that clatterin’ door!

Looking anything but regal, the saturated Pure Ferret left Grubbage to struggle with the door as she staggered into the cabin, flailing her paws like a windmill.