Brian Jacques - Redwall #05 - The Legend of Luke

Dulam was chained to deckrings like the others of the Sayna'screw who had survived the ramming. He dabbed gently at the back of Luke's head with his wet tunic, but it was some considerable time before the Warrior began to stir and show signs of coming around. On his other side, Denno pressed Luke gently back to the deck. "Lie still, mate. You should be dead by rights, the poundin' yore head took back there. I saw it as I was hauled aboard."

Luke lay still, eyes closed, head throbbing unmercifully. "What about our crew?"

He felt Denno's tears drip on to his paw as he said, "There's only us three left, Luke: you, me'n'Dulam."

Luke felt numb. He could hear his own voice echoing in his ears. "I saw Cardo, but Coll and Cordle and the others ... Vurg! Where's Vurg?"

A seaboot thumped cruelly into his side. Bosun Parug stood over them, grinning.

"Fishbait the lot of 'em. Bit of a mistake, us 'ittin' yore ship so 'ard. Shoulda just sneaked up an' burned it, then we would've caught ye one by one as y'dived inna water." He kicked Luke once more, obviously enjoying himself. "Huh, three mis-rubble prisoners. 'Twas 'ardly worth it. Three mice! Hah! May's well call it two, 'cos cap'n Vilu's got special plans fer you, bucko. I never knew a beast laid paws on Vilu Daskar an' lived t'see the sun go down. I'd 'ate t'be you, mouse. Death'll come as a mercy to ye when the cap'n's finished wid yer!"

But Luke was hardly listening. He was consumed with grief and guilt over his slain crew. Mentally he told himself that this was the second time he had lost dear ones by leaving them unguarded. It did not matter what happened to him now, though there was one thing he longed for ere death claimed him. One chance, just one opportunity to slay Vilu Daskar!

Twin Islands lay bright and still in the afternoon sunlight. The fog had gone; so had Vilu Daskar and the Goreleech.Slowly Vurg became aware of a tickling sensation on his face. A tiny hermit crab, burdened by a periwinkle shell, was dragging itself across his cheek. He brushed it aside and sat up, wincing. From jaw to ear his cheek was purple and swollen. Finding a pawful of cool wet kelp, he bathed it gingerly as memory flooded back. The Sayna,her crew, Luke, the red ship looming out of the fog!

Vurg leaped up. Sloshing through the shallows, he climbed up on his ship's wrecked hull, looking desperately this way and that. Far off out to sea, sailing north by east, he saw the Goreleechplowing the main. Scrambling down into the wreckage, Vurg ignored the splitting ache in his face and head and shouted aloud, "Luke! Cordle! Denno! Ahoy, mates, anybeast aboard? Coll! Dulam! Where are you?"

Ripping away broken spars and dragging damp canvas out of his way, Vurg forced an entrance to the shattered main cabin. Coll was there, pierced through by a splintered bulkhead spar, his body swaying gently in waist-deep seawater. Yelling in horror, Vurg fled the cabin, flinging himself from the wrecked vessel onto the shore. Cardo was the second one he found, lodged underwater beneath the prow.

Vurg sat on the warm sand, his head in both paws, sobbing uncontrollably. He was alone, all the friends he had sailed with from the northlands shore gone, slain or taken captive aboard the hated red ship.

Sometime toward evening he fell asleep, stretched out above the tideline, numb with grief and aching all over. How long he lay there Vurg had no way of knowing, other than that it was dark when he opened his eyes. But that was not what had wakened him. Somebeast was close by. Vurg did not move. He lay, fully alert now, with his eyes half open, scanning the area around him. He heard noises, a damp scraping sound, coming from behind the Sayna'ssmashed stern.

Vurg rose until he was on all fours, carefully, silently, making his way to the water's edge. Gritting his teeth with satisfaction, he found a broken spearhead, with half the shaft still attached. Wading quietly into the water, he made his way along the Sayna'shull to the stern. He saw a dark shape on the beach, scraping away at the sand with a chunk of flat wood. Gripping the broken spear tightly, Vurg sneaked up from behind and flung himself upon the creature, yelling as he locked a paw about its neck, "Yaah! You filthy murderin' scum, I'll kill ye stone dead!"

However, killing the creature was not so easy. It lashed out with long hind legs, batted Vurg hard with the chunk of wood, doubled up and sent him sailing over its head. Like a flash his adversary was upon him, forcing his face down into the sand.

A familiar voice rang in Vurg's ears. "I say, steady on there, old lad, wot wot!"

Vurg managed to push his head up and shout, "Beau, it's me, Vurg!"

The hare rolled off him, pulling him upright and dusting sand away from his face.

"Well bless m'paws, so it is. Why didn't y'say so, instead of pouncin' on a chap like that? Didn't hurt you, did I?"

Vurg could not help himself. He hugged Beau and kissed both his cheeks soundly, weeping unashamedly.

"Oh, Beau, Beau, I thought you were drowned long ago!"

The hare managed to extricate himself from the tearful crewmouse and held him off with both paws. "Well, if I wasn't drowned then I soon would be with you jolly well cryin' an' weepin' all over me, wot!"

Vurg stood staring stupidly at Beau. "Then you weren't drowned when you fell overboard?"

Beau could not resist striking a noble pose. "Drowned, me laddie? Pish tush an' fiddledy wotsit! Us Fethringsol Cosfortinghams don't sink that easily, just 'cos some confounded storm chucked me in the briny, an' not for the first time let me remark. Well, says I to m'self, let blinkin' Ma Nature use other fools as fish food, not me, sir! So I struck out for the old terra firma, an' stap me vitals if I didn't land up at Twin Islands. Had t'live on the far isle, of coursepesky little insects on this one would eat a body alive if you let 'em, wot."

Immensely cheered by the fact that he was no longer alone, Vurg smiled and clasped his friend's paw firmly. "But you're alive, that's the main thing!"

The irrepressible hare winked fondly at Vurg. "Pretty much alive, apart from havin' me paw squashed by some hulkin' great mouse. Righto, companion o' mine, come on. We'll cross the channel onto my island an' have a bite to eat while we swap yarns. Howzat suit you, ole mousechap?"

Vurg released Beau's paw and turned away. "There's something I've got to do first. My shipmates ..."

Beau sniffed. One of his long ears flopped down to wipe an eye before he answered, "Say no more, friend. I buried them m'self while you were sleepin'. Just finished the job when you sneaked up an' tried playin' piggyback with me, wot! Don't fret, old fellow, I've put the Sayna'screw t'rest in the shadow of their own ship."

Together they waded into the channel. However, Vurg still had a question to ask. "Was the whole crew slain, Beau?"

"Sadly most of 'em were, Vurg, though I never found Luke or wotsisname an' the other chap, er, Dulam an' Denno, that's 'em. Which means they were certainly taken for slaves aboard that foul vessel Goreleech.So, all in all there's four of the old gang left, five countin' yours truly. Hang tight to my paw now, gets rather deep here. We'll have to jolly well swim for it, wot wot. Chin up an' strike out!"

When they reached the far island, it was quite a climb to Beau's den. He had made it over the far side of the hill, facing out to the open sea. Because of this, Beau had not known about either the Goreleechor the Saynauntil it was too late. But, as Vurg realized, there was little he could have done anyway against the red ship's crew.

The den was a small cave halfway down the big hill. Beau had made it comfortable and foraged around the island to provide food. Kindling a fire, he put dandelion tea on to brew and produced a meal with his own gatherings and a few things they had managed to salvage from the Sayna'sgalley.