The Lutra - Jacques, Brian - Redwall 09 - The Pearls Of Lutra

I am not earth nor am I stone,

No shape at all to call my own,

Not bird or beast or flow'r or tree,

Yet captives live within me free!

"The answer is water! Without it anybeast would surely die. Water's not earth, stone, beast, bird, flower or tree. It has no shape of its own. Fish swim freely in it, though they are really captives of whatever stretch of water they live in. Our water lies within the Abbey wallsI can see it from here, the Abbey pond!"

Teasel watched the young ones scampering down the steps and speeding over the lawns, with Rollo in their wake. She sipped her tea. "Dearie me an' lackaday, dashin' an' a rushin' about, where'11 it all end? Ah well, leastways now a body can sup 'er dan'elion tea in peace 'n' quiet, afore it's time t'get lunch prepared!"

The four searchers stood at the edge of Redwall's pond. It was a pretty spot. Rushes and sedge sprouted thick in the shallows of its far edge, and an old, flat-bottomed punt lay moored at the east bank. At its southern end the ground was light and sandy, running from a soft mossy hillock into the sunwarmed shallows. Deeper out the water took on an emerald-green hue, and myriad small flying insects dipped to cause ripples in the stillness.

Gazing at the peaceful scene, Tansy raised a question which had been bothering her since she had first heard about the grayling.

"How do we knowold Grimjaw is dead? Fermald never caught the fish and we've only her word that he died. Maybe Grimjaw was just too old to rise to the bait; perhaps he's still alive down there."

It was a sobering thought. None of them fancied searching a dim pond where a big grayling might be lurking in the depths or hiding among the reeds to defend its territory against intruders.

Then Tansy came up with a quick solution. "Hi, Glenner, got a moment to spare down here?" she called to the walltop.

Glenner was a young female otter, one of Skipper's crew. She was still on walltop patrol, keeping an eye out for gulls or vermin. Glad to be relieved of the monotonous task, she bounded readily down, calling, "Good morrow, mates, anythin' I can do for ye?''

Flicking a pebble into the pond, Tansy watched the ripples spread. "Glenner, d'you think there's a big old grayling in there?" she asked.

The otter thumped her tail thoughtfully on the bank. "I dunno, could be. Skipper always told us when we were young never to disturb big ole fishes, they can be very dangerous an' bad-tempered. There's an ole otter poem we had t'learn as young 'uns.

“ Frisk in the water if you wish,

But stay clear of the big ole fish,

'Specially those with the fin like a sail.

They're the rogues who'll take yer tail,

So stay in the shallows an' bright sunlight,

An' y'll live to sleep round the fire at night!"

Rollo drew patterns in the sand with his footpaw. "Er, haha, is that what they say, really? Er, I don't suppose that you'd like to, er, maybe check the pond to see if there is actually a grim-ling, er, grayjaw, er, big fish living in there?"

Glenner's reply was cheery and prompt. "Cost you a good pan o' hotroot'n'watershrimp soup, mates. I ain't riskin' me pretty young rudder in that pond fer nothin', oh no!"

Tansy grabbed Glenner's paw and shook it vigorously. "Done! One pan of soup for one pink pearl!"

The otter cocked her head on one side quizzically. "Wot pink pearl? Y'never said ought about a pink pearl, matey."

"The big pink pearl that's lying at the bottom of that pond, puddenhead!" said Piknim. "You don't think we wanted you just to amuse yourself in the water looking for a fish, did you? If a big fish was all we wanted to know about, why, we could've tossed in a Dibbun to see if he got eaten. Then we'd know there was a big fish in there!"

Chortling, Glenner shoved the mousemaid playfully. "Go on with yer, missie, you wouldn't sling no liddle Dibbun in there. Right, stan' back, pals, if'n the fish eats me then give my soup to Skipper when he gets back from searchin' for yore Abbot!"

Glenner took a running dive, slipping into the pond without a single splash. They glimpsed a thin stream of bubbles rising from her chin, then she was gone, lost in the greeny depths. Tansy paced up and down the bank, wondering how anybeast could hold its breath for what seemed an eternity.

"Glenner should have been up by now," she said. "I wonder what she's doing down there? Hope she hasn't bumped into old Grimjaw..."

Like an arrow from a bow, Glenner shot from the pond in a rush of water, springing up onto the bank beside them. "Whooh! There's two graylings down there, mates, I seen 'em!"

Rollo's glasses slipped from his nose. "Two big fish?"

Glenner shook herself, spraying them with a cascade of droplets. "Aye, two, though one's long dead. I swam down to the bottom an' didn't see no grayling, just some minnows, roach an' a gudgeon. Then I spotted 'er, up alongside some boulders, a big tidy-lookin' female grayling. She was guardin' the bones oer mate. He must've been a big 'un, too, by the size ois frame. Looked like he died of ole age an' the minnows nibbled 'is carcass clean."

Tansy clapped her paws with excitement. “The pearl, did you see the big pink pearl, Glenner?"

"No, miss, 'fraid I didn't see no pearl. Does that mean I don't get me pot o' soup?''

Rollo polished his glasses carefully. "Sorry, not until we get the pink pearl."

Glenner winked at them, banging the last droplets from her sturdy rudderlike tail. "So be it, we'll 'ave to figger out a way t'keep the female grayling off my back, so I can search proper for yore pink pearl. Get me a good long staff. Ha! that punt pole will do. Now, let's get the punt over t'this bank where the shallows are clear, and stan' it up on its side. No big fish is goin' t'do Glenner out o' a pot o' hotroot'n'watershrimp soup made in Redwall's kitchen."

Craklyn turned to Piknim, bewildered. "What in the name of crab apples is that crazy otter up to?''

Tansy took them by the paws and headed for the punt. "Don't ask silly questions. Whatever it is, I'm willing to give it a try. Come on, you two!"

Chapter 21

There were two hilltops close to the northern inlet of Sampetra. Hardly a blade of grass stirred in the warm humid morning as Rasconza the fox and the rebel crews stood on top of one hill, facing Ublaz and his guard of Trident-rats and Monitors waiting on the other. The Emperor moved first, descending alone into the valley between both hills; Rasconza watched him a moment then followed suit. Ublaz sat down upon the grass, placing his only weapon, the silver dagger, on the ground in front of him. Rasconza unbuckled his belt with the ten daggers it held and slung the lot down, then he sat.

The mad-eyed Emperor smiled broadly. "You carry a lot of blades, Rasconza."

The corsair fox matched his smile, but avoided his eyes. "Aye, an' I can use 'em, too, Ublaz!"

The Emperor placed his silver dagger on top of Rasconza's weaponry. "Then take mine as a token of our friendship, for we did not come here today to talk of using knives, my friend."

Rasconza flipped the dagger into the air and caught it deftly. "Hah! A pretty toy, thankee. Oh, I'm fergettin' me manners, exchange of gifts, 'ere's somethin' fer you."

A gauzy silken scarf landed wisplike in the pine marten's lap. He picked it up and admired it. "Fine silk, hmm, green suits me, too. Does this gift signify anything? Is there a meaning behind it?''

Rasconza continued flipping the silver blade, watching it glitter in the sunlight.

"Oh, it signifies right enough, Ublaz. Wot you do is you puts it over yore face. That way you can see me, 'cos 'tis only thin silk, but I won't be lookin' into yore eyes. Aye, I've 'eard all about those glims o' yourn, an' I don't intend starin' into 'em an' losin' control o' my mind!"