Brian Jacques - Redwall #16 - Triss

Bladd giggled. He liked the Captain’s colourful curses, Yarr, you row like de Capting say, bottle-nosed svabs! Yowch! Capting, Kurda pinch me vit ‘er sharp claws.

The Princess glared hatefully at her fat brother. Shut your slobberin’

face, stupid, or I t’row you overboard!

Plugg shook a paw at her, his voice dripping sarcasm. Now, now, beauty, ye shouldn’t be usin’ language like that to yore dear brother. Come on, kiss ‘im an’ make up.

Bladd recoiled in disgust. Yekk, she not kissin’ me!

The silver fox rounded on the four rats at the oars. Who told you idle scum t’stop rowin’, eh? Now put some energy into it, afore I chop off yore tails an’ make ye eat’em. Row, ye pickle-pawed oafs!

Oars dipped swift and deep as the jollyboat sped from the dune canyons into the sheltering shade of woodlands. Plugg reached up and snapped off a long green willow branch. First one I spot idlin’ gets a taste o’ this!

Vorto called across the bank to Riggan, who was trotting along the other edge, Are we still on their trail?

Plugg interrupted before the slavecatcher could answer. No, matey, they’ve took to the sky an’ they’re flyin’ south like the birds. Idjit!

This is the only way they can go in a boat. Huh, an’ I thought my crew was stupid! He lashed out at the rowers with his willow withe. We should be plunderin’ an’ loadin’ up wid loot, instead o’chasin’ a few lousy slaves.... Aaaaaargh!

Without warning, the rowers had sent the jollyboat speeding straight onto the sharpened wooden stake that Shogg and Kroova had lodged tight between two roots on the streambed. It protruded upward at an angle, facing downstream, the point lurking fractionally below the surface.

As the boat hit the stake, it smashed through the side of the prow like a huge spearpoint. Water came gushing in. Plugg’s agonised scream was not without reasonÑthe stake had gotten him in the lower back, just short of his haunches.

Pandemonium reigned. Kurda seized two of the Rat-guards who had been rowing, screeching at them as the boat rapidly filled up, Get me to de shore, quick!

The two of them bore her to the bank, with the other two carrying Prince Bladd, who was wailing in terror, Don’t let me drop, I cannot svim!

The crew of the Seascab hurled themselves into the stream. Cutlasses and hatchets crashed into the sinking boat timbers as they hacked wildly, striving to free their captain. Plugg had passed out with the pain, and Grub-bage held the silver fox’s head above the waterline.

Gerrim out, mates,’urry, or the Cap’n will get drowned!

Slitfang chopped away madly at the stake, which was holding Plugg in the boat. Tazzin, lend a paw’ere, bring yer dagger or we’ll lose the Cap’n!

They freed Plugg and carried him up to the bank. Scummy the stoat and Grubbage, who both had experience in treating wounds, attended the fox’s limp, wet form, whilst the rest of the crew looked anxiously on. Without a captain, the Freebooters were like lost creatures. Kurda watched them, a smile of pitiless cruelty on her face. Dere is no need for de boat now, so I vill continue hunting der slaves mitt my Ratguards. Yarr, de fox does not have a lot to say now, does he? Tchah!

She spun on her paw, only to find herself surrounded by Freebooters.

Tazzin licked her dagger blade meaningly.

Yew ain’t goin’ anywhere an’ leavin’ us wid a wounded cap’n. We all stays’ere til Plugg’s ready to move, see!

Vorto came hurrying up, with his spear at the ready. Back off, seascum, yew ain’t orderin’ our princess about! Slitfang sneaked up behind and felled Vorto with a hefty blow of his cutlass hilt. Placing a paw on the senseless rat, he leaned across and hissed in Kurda’s face, I’m cap’n while old Plugg’s out of action, an’ I says we stay. If’n ye wants to challenge my order, yer welcome to try. I’ll fix it so you an’ yore rats stays’ere fer good, wid the insects to pick over yore bones. Well?

Kurda dropped her eyes. There was no point in trying to argue with dangerous sea vermin. Yarr, ve stay.

Midafternoon found the five friends taking a cutoff up a sidestream.

Shogg rested his oarpole and listened to the stillness hanging upon the quiet sunny air.

Wot d’ye think, Kroova, did our liddle plan work? The sea otter leaped from the boat to the nearby bank. I think it prob’ly did, mate. Don’t seem to be a sound of anybeast followin’. Can you’ear anythin’, Triss?

Bounding ashore, the squirrelmaid shot up the trunk of a tall elm. She was back down directly. Not a move anywhereÑI think we’re safe for the moment, Right, let’s get some vittles organised, I’m hungry!

Scarum was at her side in the wink of an eye. Well, thank me auntie’s pinny for a handsome gel with a bit o’ sense, wot, excellent suggestion, marm. Capital!

They split up and went foraging into the woodlands, whilst Triss stayed behind to guard their boat.

Sagax was the first to return. He brought some wild berries and a few early plums, which, while sweet, were still quite hard. The two otters arrived next, followed by Scarum, who assessed the fruits of their search.

He was, by turns, both critical and optimistic.

Not bloomin’ much, chaps, is it? A few measly berries, some hard-as-rock plums, a load of roots, dearie me! Still, I suppose we’ll make somethin’

of them once I start cookin’, wot?

Triss shook her head. Sorry, no fires to give off smoke signals. Besides, what would you use for a cooking pot? Scarum’s ears drooped. I thought you were on my side! What in the name of fiddlesticks d’you expect us to do, scoff’em raw an’ drink streamwater? It’s not jolly well civilised.

Sagax pulled the boat into the land and moored it to a tree. Sshh! Listen, can you hear singing?

The strains grew louder and clearer as they listened. From round an upstream bend, four shrew logboats appeared. They were packed with shrew families, singing at the tops of their voices to the accompaniment of drums and tambourines. Stringed instruments blended with the harmonious melody. The shrews did not appear to have a single care in the world.

Summer, summer, what a lazy afternoon,

Music, laughter, sun a-waitin’ for the moon, Twilight, my light, stream is all a-slumber, too, Babes a-sleepin’, willows weepin’, skies so blue.

Nothin’ like a good ole river,

On a sunny afternoon with you,

Sittin’ in a dear ole logboat,

Plunkin’ out a tune or two.

We’ll sail off to a shady bower,

Kettle will be boilin’ soon,

While we sport an’ play, the livelong day, An’ sleep beneath a golden moon.

I’ll find a place so filled with mem’ries, Where the waters kiss the shores,

When yore ma an’ pa ain’t watchin’,

You’ll hold my paw in yours.

Then we’ll have a good ole picnic,

With such nice things to eat,

While the babes all go a-paddlin’,

Let’s dance to the ole drum’s beat.

Summer, summer, what a lazy afternoon,

Music, laughter, sun a-waitin’ for the moon, Twilight, my light, stream is all a-slumber too, Babes a-sleepin’, willows weepin’, skies so blueooooooooooh!

Triss had never seen creatures so happy. There was no question of their being foebeasts. She dashed into the shallows, waving and calling to them, Hello there, good afternoon to you, friends!

A fat shrew wife in flowered pinafore and bonnet waved her parasol back at the squirrelmaid. An’ the same to you, missy, that’s a luvverly boat you got there. Want to tag along an’ join our picnic? There’s plenty for everybeast, yore welcome!

Scarum danced along the bankside, grinning like a buffoon and blowing kisses outrageously. Profusions of thankfulness, gorgeous creature, we accept your wonderful offer gratefully, nay, jubilatorially!