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

Martin turned to Viola, who was shivering fitfully after her ordeal in the sea. "Stay here, little one. Clecky and I are going to help the otter to beach her boat. If any danger threatens while we're away, leave these rocks and hide in the woodlands, d'you understand?''

The volemaid's teeth were chattering so hard she could only nod.

Stooping low, Martin and Clecky hurried along the tideline, all the time keeping a weather eye on Waveworm.Grath Longfletch was glad of their help, and among them the three creatures hauled the longboat across the shore, back to the rock cover.

Grath surveyed the damage ruefully, saying, "She's stoved in bad amidships, and there's not a lot I can do without the proper materials to fix her up. I've even lost my provisions in the sea."

Clecky slumped down mournfully next to Viola. "Starvin', wet, cold, tired, wot! I've been in worse places, but I'm blowed if I can remember where they were!"

Martin held up his paw for silence. "Listen!"

Grath had heard the sounds too. She grabbed for her bow and arrows, which had mercifully survived the encounter with Waveworm."Somebeasts comin' downstream, get your heads down, mates!" Stealthily the otter peered landward, over the rocks into the breaking dawn.

Then she laughed aloud with relief. "Haharr, it's Log a Log an' the Guosim!"

Swift as arrows six logboats were skimming downstream from the woodlands to the shore. When they caught sight of Grath, the shrews whooped gruffly, flinging themselves into the stream shallows and wading ashore with open paws.

Log a Log was first to pound his otter friend's back.

"Grath Longfletch, you ole waterdog!"

"Log a Log, you fiddle streamwalloper!"

"Don't tell me you've wrecked that barnacle-crusted cockleshell again,Grath! Good job we happened along. Hi, Martin! Martin of Redwall!"

The Warriormouse chuckled joyfully as Guosim shrews crowded round, shaking his paws. "Log a Log, old friend. Dabby, Curio, Dimple, what a pleasure it is to see your faces again!"

Clecky pointed to himself and Viola. "Pay no heed to us, chaps, we're only a couple o' butterflies hangin' about waitin' for summer, aren't we, m'dear!"

A fire was built on the sand behind the rocks, and Guosim cooks busied themselves, while shrewmaids outfitted Viola bankvole in one of their smocks. Curio and Dabby got a repair gang together and began straightaway fixing Grath's longboat.

Log a Log sat by the fire with Martin and Clecky, discussing their position. When he heard about the ambush in the ditch, the shrew Chieftain looked thoughtful. “We found a searat wandering lost upstream," he said. "My mates have got him under guard over there. I wonder if he can tell us where they're planning to take your Abbot? Ahoy, mates, bring that vermin over t'me!"

Bound and gagged, a dispirited searat was hauled up in front of the shrew Chieftain.

Martin recognized him instantly. "That's the villain who escaped after ambushing us. We slew the rest of them, but this one got away."

Grath Longfletch strode up. Borrowing a knife from one of the cooks, she cut the searat's gag and the rope that bound his paws. Then, notching a green-feathered shaft to her great bow, Grath nodded meaningly at the terrified searat.

"Get running!" she snarled.

The searat took one look at the grim-faced otter and her lethal weapon and fell down on all fours, pleading and sobbing. "Yer gonna kill me, I know y'are. Mercy, I beg yer!"

Grath seized the creature roughly, hauling him upright, "I'm givin' you a chance, scum, that's more'n you did for my family when you murdered 'em! I'm Grath Longfletch, last of the Holt of Lutra; remember it. Now run!"

Martin placed himself between Grath and the searat, saying, "You can't kill him, friend, we need him to give us information. He's valuable to us."

Grath's voice trembled as she replied, "I like you, Martin of Redwall, you're a warrior born, but this searat is a coward and a murderer. I'm sworn to avenge my family, so step aside, Martin, I don't want to hurt you!"

"Then you'll 'ave to 'urt us both, matey!" Log a Log stood up alongside Martin and spoke gently to the otter. “Grath, yore lettin' revenge rob you of yore senses. Put aside the bow an' shaft now, there's a goodbeast. Martin's right an' you know it, friend."

Slowly Grath lowered her bow and shot the arrow into the sand between her footpaws. The searat gave a moan of relief. Grath smiled regretfully at the two creatures facing her. "I'm sorry, Martin, you're right. Log a Log, you sound more like my father than any creature I've ever known. Forgive me."

The Warriormouse patted Grath's paw. "There's nothing to forgive, friend, I'd have done the same in your place. Now, how about some breakfast by the fire while we question this wave vermin and make our plans for the day?"

Viola and Clecky sat with the boat repair crew around their fire, watching a pot of pine resin bubbling. The volemaid sipped steaming vegetable and seafood soup from a scallop shell bowl and devoured hot shrewbread in a manner far removed from her former prissy self.

Curio winked at her. "Tastes good, don't it?" she said.

Viola nodded gratefully as the shrew refilled the shell for her. "Almost as good as the taste of freedom. Oh! Poor Abbot Durral, I hope they haven't harmed him. He risked his life to help me escape from that horrible ship and those awful lizards. Do you think there's a chance that we can rescue him?"

Clecky bent his long ears toward the other fire, munching delicious shrewbread as he spoke. "Never give up hope, m'gel, Martin an' ole Log a thing are prob'ly cookin' up a plan right now with that tough-lookin' otter."

Day broke cloudy and gray with a calm sea and little or no breeze. Romsca placed a bowl of some doubtful steaming mess in front of the Abbot.

"Get that skilly down yer, Durral, no sense in starvin' t'death!"

The old mouse peered up at the corsair from where he sat tethered to the mast. The loss of his glasses affected his poor eyesight. "Thank you, my child, and thank you also for the kindness you showed to the little volemaid."

Romsca shook her head and laughed. "I ain't yore child, ole mouse, an' you can't get around me. You shovel those vittles down an' pray t'the fates that yore mates come up with the Emperor's six pearls!"

Further discussion was cut short as Lask Frildur came hurrying out on deck. The ship had drifted sideways, allowing the Monitor General a disturbing view of the shore.

"Have you no eyez in your head, idiot?" he snarled nastily at Romsca. "Look landwardz!"

Romsca was about to argue, but a quick glance to the shore gave the corsair great cause for concern. Small warlike creatures in considerable numbers, all wearing bright headbands and sashes with rapiers, stood boldly in plain view on the beach. Pulled up onto the sandy banks of the stream that flowed to the sea were six dugout treetrunk boats, equipped with paddles and single sails. Nearby on a clump of rocks were three more creatures, a strong-looking mouse with a great sword strapped to his back, a big otter and a lanky hare, both armed with bows and arrows. They were watching a group of the small creatures repairing a ship's longboat by the glow of several small fires.

Romsca shook her head in disbelief at the scene. "Stripe me! Where'd that lot come from?"

Lask Frildur paced the deck, tail swishing and teeth bared. "Who knowz? There are enough of them to take thiz vezzel, and they have boatz. We are no longer zafe anchored here!"

Kicking the bowl of food from the Abbot's paws, the lizard pulled him as close to the rail as the rope tether would allow. "Who are thoze beaztz, mouze? Tell me!"

Durral squinted at the distant shore. "Without my glasses it is difficult to say, though by the bright colors they wear I would guess they are Guosim shrews."