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

To shorten night's long hours.

For spring is fled and summer's come,

Gather its blossoms and bring me some."

Rollo nodded appreciatively as he nibbled busily at the edges of a raspberry and apple turnover. "That's a nice poem, Higgle. I've never heard it before. Did you write it yourself?"

The Friar took a deep draft of his October ale. "Bless yer, no, Rollo, I couldn't write verses t'save me spikes! 'Twas Brother Dormal taught it t'me, he knows all about poems an' seasons an' growin' things. Ole Dormal's a right clever 'un!"

Dormal lowered his eyes modestly, blinking away a white blossom that had fallen on his eyelid. "It's nothin' really, the verses write themselves in my head."

Rollo licked raspberry juice from his chin. "But none knows more than you about growing things, right?"

Dormal was a shy old mouse; he shrugged lightly. "I suppose so. I love the things that grow as much as I like to write poetry. Why d'you ask?"

"Because I would like to know if we have maidenhair growing anywhere within Redwall."

"You mean spleenwort," Dormal corrected.

The Recorder shook his head. "No, I mean maidenhair!"

Dormal warmed to his favorite subject. “The correct name is spleenwort, though it is also commonly known as maidenhair. It's a wall-growin' fern. Hmm, we do have some growin' wild somewheres, now let me think ..."

Rollo was about to urge the old mouse to hurry his memory up, when Dormal nodded knowingly, and said, "On the inside o' the south wall, slap bang in the middle, about halfway up. I culled some for Sister Cicely last autumn. But why d'you want to know about spleenwort, Rollo?"

Dormal found himself speaking to thin air. Rollo had left.

Tansy, Piknim and Craklyn sat on the upturned wheelbarrow, giggling as they tried to protect their lunch against Skipper and Gerul, whose injuries seemed to have increased their insatiable appetites. Winking both eyes at the three Abbeymaids, the owl allowed his talons to rove perilously close to their food.

"Ah now, what would three slender young beauties like yer-selves want with stodgy hazelnut pudden? 'Twill only make fatbeasts of ye, missies. My ould mother always used t'say, if yer not fat there's a slim chance some creature'll fall in love with ye, so she did, an' herself as thin as a beanpole an' greatly loved by all, so she was!"

Tansy pulled the pudding out of his reach. "Tut tut, mister Gerul, your mother couldn't have loved you much, you great butterbarrel. Hahahaha!"

Skipper agreed with her, swiping a couple of blackberry muffins as he did so. "That's right, missie. I don't know which is bigger, ole Genii's eyes or his belly. Hohoho!"

"Hah! Look who's talking, old famine-tummy himself!" said Craklyn, then she neatly caught one of the muffins as it was halfway to the otter's mouth and tossed it to Piknim.

Gerul intercepted the muffin, and before Piknim could stop him he had crammed half of it into his beak. "True words, miss, true words, I'd sooner keep Skipper in vittles for a day than a season, so I would!"

Rollo strode busily up and tapped his paws on the wheelbarrow. "No time for fooling about, friendsI've just made an important discovery. Follow me and forget lunch!"

Before they could argue he had ushered them off in the direction of the south Abbey wall. Gerul watched them go, dividing the hazelnut pudding in two with a spoon. "T'be sure, there's somethin' heroic about a vole who won't let vittles keep him from his duty. That'n will be voted Abbot one day, Skip, you mark me words. Rollo the Righteous they'll call him, so they will!"

Maidenhair spleenwort grew spiderlike from the cracks in the stonework of the high south wall. Fronds of different lengths spread in all directions, each stem covered in tiny spearhead-shaped leaflets ranging from pale to bright green. Upward of a dozen or more plants clung to the sandstone, forming a tracery almost from ground to ramparts.

"So sit o'er the maidenhair, gaze up north," Tansy said, as she checked the poem parchment.

Piknim and Craklyn were already racing away towards the wallsteps. "Last one to the steps is a crawly old caterpillar!"

Rollo stared over the top of his glasses at Tansy. "I know I'm the crawly old caterpillar, but where are they going? Have I missed something?"

Tansy took the old Recorder's paw. "The only way we can carry out Fermald's instructions is to sit on the battlements of this wall, over the maidenhair. Then we'll see what to make of this riddle. Come on, no hurry, we'll be crawly caterpillars together."

Chapter 28

Day broke hot and hazy over the isle of Sampetra as the murderous game between Ublaz and Rasconza took a new turn. The fox was asleep in his cabin when a sharp rat-tat on the door awoke him. He sat up groggily, yawning and blinking.

"Quit that knockin' an' come in!"

The door swung open to reveal the mad-eyed pine marten. Rasconza leapt for his sword, which lay on a nearby table. Ublaz held both paws wide to show he was unarmed. "Leave your blade, friend. I could have crept in here and slain you as you slept."

Rasconza poured himself a beaker of seaweed grog, careful not to lock eyes with Ublaz. “So, what gets you outta yore bunk this early?" he snarled.

The Emperor had dressed in brown silk that morning. He looked around at the stained benches and chairs, and chose to stand. ' T merely called to tell you that the first new rudder and tiller are ready. My workers toiled through the night to finish them. Even as we speak my creatures are fitting them to this vessel."

Rasconza was nonplussed. He stood staring at his beaker.

"'Well, I'll say this for ye, matey, y've got some nerve comin' down 'ere. Don't ferget, I could order the crews to attack. We still outnumber yore forces!"

Ublaz gestured elegantly towards the open door. "I took the precaution of arriving silently. Your sentries are asleep and the other five crews snoring inside their cabins. A simple but effective operation, Rasconza. Oh, and one other thing. Stay away from your swordyou would have to faceme if you were intent on slaying me. Then our eyes would meet. And if I can put a poisonous water snake under my spell, a simple fox would present no problem. It's your move, friend."

Rasconza could hear the Trident-rats hammering the rudder pins home and fitting the tiller above decks. Smiling with a confidence he did not feel, the fox answered Ublaz, "I still hold five of yore creatures, the captains, remember? One shout from me and they'll all be fishbait!"

The pine marten had painted his claws red to offset the brown silk. He breathed on them and buffed them on his flowing sleeve as he murmured, "Shout away, fox, shout away. Do you think I gave you valuable fighters to captain these ships? Like Orlug, whom you slew, those five are worthless fools. Kill them if you want to."

Rasconza scratched his matted tail with grimy claws, baffled. "Well, what doy'want? You've got me cornered in 'ere; y'don't care about yer own creatures, and now yer fixin' me ship up with a new rudder an' tiller? You've probl'y got a gang of yer best lizards waitin' outside to slay me, is that wot yer want?"

Ublaz leaned back against the cabin door, smiling. "I've already said I don't want to slay you, Rasconza. Friendship and trust, that's what I want. Look, here's what I propose. Forget the rats I appointed as captains. Choose your own from among the crews, and I'll give the order for mine to stand down. Then I want you to pick out all those loyal to you and crew this ship up. If we are to rule Sampetra together you must prove yourself to me, Rasconza! I want you to captain this vessel, sail anywhere you please, but bring me back the finest cargo of plunder ever seen on a corsair ship. Prove you are my Captain in Chief!"