Brian Jacques - Redwall #05 - The Legend of Luke

Martin lied as he kept the oldster on a steady course. "Oh, Cardo! How could anybeast forget that buffoon!"

Gonff was on watch, sitting in the prow. He saw the two mice approaching the Honeysuckleand roused the crew from their slumbers.

"Ahoy, mates, Martin's comin' back. Looks like he's brought company, too. Stand byhe might need help."

Furmo and Folgrim assisted in getting Vurg aboard. The old mouse winked at the scarred otter. "Heehee, bet you could take care o' yerself in a scrap?"

Folgrim's pointed teeth bared in a savage grin. "I've taken care of a few in me time, sir!"

Vurg mused absently as they seated him comfortably under the stern awning. "Aye, so did Luke an' Ranguvar, they took care o' more'n a few. Heeheehee!"

Furmo patted the old one's paw fondly. "How's yore sweet tooth, Grandad?"

"I tell ye, young whipsnout, a sweet tooth's about the only one I got left in me mouth. Heehee!"

The shrew stoked up his stove with seacoal and driftwood. "Then how does a baked river roll with hot maple syrup sound t'ye? I makes it with sweetflour an' all manner o' candied fruit, folds it careful-like into a big roll, bakes it to a turn an' pours 'ot maple syrup over it. Got a beaker or two of Dunehog Seafoam ale t'go with it. Sound good?" y

Vurg wiped a paw across his lips. "I'll tell ye when me mouth quits waterin', young 'un!"

Morning came, with overcast skies and a bitter wind. Martin sat beneath the stern shelter with his friends, sipping barley and carrot broth. Vurg lay behind them, close to the oven, wrapped snugly in his cloak, sleeping off the feast he had consumed.

Gonff sat Chugger on his lap, allowing him to steal his beaker of broth. "You finish that all up, matey. An' don't be dashin' about kickin' up a rumpus. Old Vurg needs lots o' sleep. Well, Martin, did y'find out what you needed to know from the ole feller, about yore dad an' so on?"

Martin shook his head as he watched Vurg sleeping. "Didn't want to rush him. Vurg will tell me when he's ready. Though I did hint that I needed information."

Dinny looked over the top of his beaker. "Wot did ee'm owd feller say 'bout that, zurr?"

Martin shrugged. "Not much, though he did say I'd find out all I needed to know when we took him back home to someplace called Tall Rocks."

Chugger was beginning to wriggle out of Gonff's grasp. Trimp took charge of him, stroking the tiny squirrel's head soothingly. She looked inquiringly at Martin. "Tall Rocks? Where's that?"

The Warrior stared out at the gray wintry seas. "Somewhere up north of here. Vurg said he'd show us the way."

Furmo picked up the linen bag from where it had fallen out of Vurg's cloak, and passed it to Martin. "What d'you suppose is in this?"

Martin sighed deeply and placed the bag carefully back in the folds of Vurg's cloak without disturbing him. "He'll tell us when he's ready, I suppose. Though I'm not certain I want to know now. I have a feeling inside that 'tis going to be a long and tragic tale."

Vurg woke before noon feeling much refreshed, and to prove it he ate a huge breakfast. Under his directions they pushed off and continued north. Martin watched, silent and pensive once more, as his birthplace faded into the distance.

Chapter 16

It was a late noon, two days out from Martin's former home, when Tall Rocks hove into view. Rain was falling heavily and the wind had died completely. The sea surface, though pitted constantly by rainfall, was relatively calm, with a notable absence of the huge foam-crested rollers usual in the area. Vurg stood in the bows, Martin at his side, and relayed directions. Furmo and Dinny held the tiller between them, listening out for instructions.

"Keep her head out to sea a bit. Stick to that course!"

Furmo obeyed, but voiced his doubts. "Wouldn't we be better tackin' in closer to the land side?"

Martin swiftly gave him his answer. "No, no! Stay seaward. Vurg says the underwater reefs are close to the surface inshore. Out here the sea runs very deep, so the reefs are far below us. Keep her head out!"

"Right enough. Just as well the tide's runnin' smooth t'day."

Martin agreed. "Aye, Vurg says that if any waves start up youjnust steer right out to sea, away from Tall Rocks, and forget the whole thing until ebb tides arrive. Otherwise the Honeysuckle'&be smashed against the rocks!"

Dinny glanced fearfully to the horizon. "O seas, keep ee gurt waves clear of us'n's. Thurr be nuthin' wurser'n a drownded molebeast, no zurr!"

Trimp and the remainder of the crew stood aghast at the size of Tall Rocks. Monumental pillars of stone, they reared out of the sea like monsters from the dawn of time, huge and forbidding. For leagues of the coastline the seas were dotted with them, colossal and weirdly shaped, some cylindrical, others triangular or square-sided, their bases festooned with seaweed, kelp and dark moss above the columns of dark basalt stone. The Honeysuckle'ssail was taken in, and the most expert Guosim oarbeasts sat at the rowlocks, knowing their lives depended on the accuracy and sureness of their strokes. The order came when they were almost abreast of a cluster of columns, fronted by one half as big again in girth and height as the rest.

"Take 'er in steady. Keep the big 'un on yore portside!"

Trimp held tight to Folgrim's paw. "Good grief! Look at the size of those rocks, Folgrim!"

Chugger, who had climbed onto the otter's shoulders, clung there like a leech, whimpering. "I frykened, mista Fol, Chugg no like this!"

Folgrim tickled the little squirrel's footpaw. "Aye, I'm frightened too, matey. So is the whole crew, an' even Martin, so we're in good company, I reckons!"

All else was forgotten as the monstrous pinnacles loomed close. Fear echoed in Furmo's high-pitched yell. "Bring 'er 'round! Round the big rock! Push 'er off'n'take 'er 'round, mates! Now!"

Rising in a smooth high swell, the sea swept the skiff, like a cork, straight for the big rock. Paddlers on one side banked her, rowing furiously, while Martin and Gonff joined the others, fending the rock off by pushing against it with oars and long poles. With an audible sucking and gurgling the swell receded. Down they shot into a deep trough, with the Honeysuckleswerving bravely in a swift arc around the basalt monolith. No sooner were they on the lee side of the rock than the peril of their position increased. Now they were in a narrow channel betwixt the main column and the others grouped behind it. Obeying Vurg's orders, the Guosim Chieftain sang out, "I'm steerin' for that pack o' rocks! Make ready to tie up, for'ard, aft an' amidships! But don't tie 'er fast, mates, leave slack so she can ride the swells!"

The moment they were in reach of the grouped pinnacles, Martin whirled a weighted line, as did Folgrim in the midships and Gonff at the prow. Again the swell lifted them and Furmo shouted, "Heave those lines out, mates!"

The strong slender ropes snaked out and up. Three iron grapnels clanked simultaneously into the stone crevices. The Honeysucklewas secured safely, and bobbed up and down alongside the rocks, with the slack lines allowing her to ride easily on the swells.

Log a Log Furmo could not stop his paws shaking. He wobbled along the deck and leaned against Martin, pale, breathless and shaken. "By the fur'n'blood o' the great Guosim, at least ten times there I thought we was a goner, matey!"

Martin grasped his friend's paws, steadying them. "You did it superbly, Furmo. Nobeast could keep her on course like you did'twas nothing short of a miracle!"

Stamping his footpaw against the deck, Furmo smiled proudly. "Aye, an' no other craft in all the rivers'n'seas could've done it like our Honeysuckle.Wot a ship! I'll tell some stories about 'er t'my tribe when we gets back!"