Brian Jacques - Redwall #05 - The Legend of Luke

A wild, ragged figure hurtled across the tiny clearing and flung itself into the bush, undoubtedly hoping to come to grips with whomever was holding the spear. Luke was after it in a flash. The beast was immediately at a disadvantage, trapped with its bottom sticking out of the bush. The sturdy mouse dealt the target a tidy whack with the flat of his blade and shouted sternly, "Come out o' there, ye savage!"

The reply came back after an agonized gasp. "Haharr! Stabbed me from the rear, eh, seascum? You pirates are all the same. Just wait'H I get out of here!"

Luke gave the bottom another whack with his blade-flat. "Mayhap thisll help ye, Wellaguller, or whatever y'call yoreself. Here, have another taste o' my blade!" He laid on another stinging blow and the beast almost somersaulted out of the bush in a cloud of leaves and broken twigs.

"Owowowouch! Typical vermin pirate type, wot! Can't slay a chap without jolly well torturin' him t'death first. Oooh! My posterior's aflippin'flame, y'great lout!"

It was a hare, garbed ridiculously in rags, seashells and strands of vegetation, its face stained purple with berry juice. Luke watched it cautiously as he put up his sword.

"I'm no seascum. My name's Luke an' I'm a chieftain from far across the seas."

The hare stood up, rubbing his tail area ruefully. "Oh I see, and that gives you the blinkin' right to land up here an' whale the tar out of chaps' bottoms with your sword. Huh, prob'ly why you had to leave the place you came fromeverybeast got fed up with you wallopin' all an' sundry 'round the nether regions with swords an' whatnot, so they banished you from the blinkin' land. Say then, scurvy cad, beaten up any other poor creatures t'day, wot wot? Speak up, sah."

Luke was astonished at the nerve of the hare. "Hold on a tick, flop-ears! First you go terrifyin' my crew with your howlin' an' wailin', then you try to kill me by flingin' those funny-lookin' spears of yours, an' then you got the brass neck to complain when you get caught at it. Just who d'ye think you are?"

Puffing out his narrow chest, the hare clapped a paw to his stomach and bowed curtly. "Who do I think I am, sah? I am smoke on the wind, a creature of many resources! To the vermin inhabiting this island I am Werragoola the purple-faced terror. In a far more elegant life than this I was known as Beauclair Fethringsol Cosfortingham. Fondly referred to as just Beau by m'family, friends an' dear old nanny, wot!"

Vurg stole cautiously up, brandishing a stick. "Ah, there y'are, Luke. But who's this creature?"

Luke made the introductions. "This is the one who was doin' all the shoutin' an' throwin' weapons at us. Vurg, meet Beau."

The hare regarded Vurg's outstretched paw suspiciously. "Vurg, eh? Sounds a right murderous vermin name if ever I heard one. Chap looks shifty, too. D'y'know, I'm not totally convinced that you two aren't Sea Rogues."

Luke sighed impatiently. "Well we're not standin' 'round all day just to convince ye. Come on, Vurg, let's round up the crew an' get back aboard the ship. We're wastin' time here."

They had only gone a few paces when Beau leaped in front of them with a broad grin pasted on his purpled features.

"You're mice, silly old me, wot? Mice aren't seascum, they're good chaps like m'self. Have y'really got a ship, Admiral Luke? Are y'sailin' away from this confounded isle? Take me with you, sirs, I beg of you. I'll even provision your vessel with the food I grow here. You won't be sorry. Old salty Beau they call me on shipboard, can turn m'paw to anythin' nautical. Hoist me mains'l, loose those anchors, take a turn 'round the riggin' an' boggle me bilges, wot wot! I can spout that sort o' rot all season..."

Luke could not help smiling at the lanky excited creature. "Keep that up, Beau, an' we'll make ye swim behind the ship to give us a bit o' peace. You say you've got provisions?"

"Provisions, grub, rations, scoff, vittles, tucker, you name it, Luke m'mouse, an' I've got it!"

Luke was forced to place a paw across Beau's mouth. "Enough, mate. You can sail with us, but on two conditions. Cut the cackle an' show us to the provisions!"

Chapter 22

The crew of the Saynaspent the rest of the afternoon gathering produce which Beau had grown. They carried pears, apples, wild grapes, mushrooms, carrots and all manner of fresh food back to the ship. Luke was wondering whether he would regret his decision, because the hare never once stopped chattering.

"Heave ho, me hearties, that's the ticket, wot wot! I say there, what a jolly little ship, absolutely tiptop! Far nicer than the great red monstrosity that delivered me here, by the left, I should say so!"

They were filling pails from a lively trickle of fresh water running down the cliff face to the shore. Forming a chain, the crew passed it aboard, where it was emptied into the casks to top up the Sayna'swater supply. Beau was chattering on as he shoved another pail beneath the running water.

"Oh yes, this's the stuff t'put fur on y'tail, wot! Good fresh water, sweet an' clean, drink it m'self, y'know, mornin' noon an' night. Feel those muscles, see how my eyes sparkle, have y'ever seen teeth as white as mine, wot!"

Luke pulled him to one side. "Beau, did you say a great red ship brought you here?"

"Indeed it did, sah, filthy great thing, name o' the Goreleech."

Luke's paw tightened like a vice over Beau's. "Tell me everything you know about the red ship!"

Beau rubbed his paw and looked quizzically at Luke. "Of course, old chap, no need to crush a fellow's paw. It all started some seasons ago when yours truly got the jolly old urge to go seafarin'. Shipped out on a small merchant craft, tradin' 'round the coast, y'know. Good crew, couple o' shrews, some hedgehogs an' a mouse or two. We were doin' quite well, until one night our ship was lyin' at anchor an' we were all in our hammocks snorin'. Well, the Goreleechsailed up an' took us by surprise, rammed our little boat with its great iron spike, sunk us like a stone, wot.

Sea Rogues everywhere, slew most of the crew, took the remainder captive. I'll never forget the captain of the red ship, a stoat, Vilu Daskar, cruel murderin' villain! I spent two seasons chained to an oar in the red ship's middle decks, starved, whipped, kicked an' beaten. Still got the scars if y'd like to see 'em. I was the only beast out of my old crew left alive after a while. Then I fell sick, too weak'n'thin to be of further use at the oar. Vilu Daskar had me thrown overboard. Prob'ly thought I was about t'die, so the fish an' the tides could finish me. Hah! But I came off stern stock. My old nanny could have told him that I was a Cosfortingham, an' we don't die too easily, y'know. I was washed up here an' this has been my home ever since. Island's full o' vermin, though, searats an' such, deserters, runaways an' some who've been maroonedevil lot. The rogues would've skinned an' scoffed me, but I've spent my seasons here livin' in secret, growin' my own tucker an' fightin' 'em from the shadows'n'tree cover. That's when I became Werragoola Purpleface, regular one-hare army, wot!"

Luke smiled in admiration at the brave hare. "You did well, Beau. Tell me, have you ever sighted Vilu Daskar's vessel again?"

"Rather. Passed here three moons ago, put in for water an' sailed off bound south. I hid on the clifftops an' watched the red ship come an' go. D'you know, your ship's the first decent craft with honest crew I've ever seen put in here. Jolly lucky for me I'd say, wot wot!"

Screeching war cries cut the conversation short, and Beau hurled himself at Luke, knocking him to one side. A rough, sharp spear buried itself in the sand where Luke had stood a moment before. Down the steps in the cliff face, a huge mob of ragged vermin were dashing toward the Sayna'screw.