Brian Jacques - Redwall #05 - The Legend of Luke

Vilu dabbed the silken scarf across his lips, weighing the three slaves up carefully. He addressed Denno.

"You, tell me what it is you were hiding up the coast in the tall rocks. But take care. One false word, one little lie, and I will hang both your friend and your captain from the mainmast, where their bodies will stay until they rot and seabirds pick at their bones. But speak truly and I will give you all your freedom, once I have what you hid in the tall rocks. That is your choice. Now speak."

Denno glanced apologetically in Luke's direction, then said, "It was the treasure of our tribe, sire. We had traveled many seasons, guarding it from foebeasts. Havin' chosen the northland shore as our new home, we searched out a safe place to hide it. Among the tall rocks, farther north."

Luke was glaring angrily at Denno. Vilu smiled at the Warrior mouse in mock surprise.

"Now now, don't pull faces at your friend. He's just saved your life and bought your freedom. Let's hear you speak your piece now. Tell us about this treasure, or I'll hang both of these mice in your place and you can watch them dangle!"

An expression of defeat replaced Luke's glare, and he sighed. "Only if you promise to spare our lives and set us free once you have the treasure."

Vilu spread his paws disarmingly. "Akkla, Parug, Bullflay, tell this mouse about my word."

The three vermin nodded vigorously.

"Oh aye, the cap'n never lies!"

"You can rely on that, mouse!"

"I'll take me oath on it!"

Vilu took a sip of wine and dabbed his lips. "See?"

Luke told him what he wanted to hear. " 'Tis a great treasure, plates, chalices, daggers an' swords, all wrought of gold'n'silver, studded with many jewels."

The pirate stoat nodded approvingly. "Just as I thought. Now tell me the exact location. Where did you hide it?"

Luke stared levelly at Vilu Daskar.

"Only three creatures went among the tall rocks to hide that treasure, myself, Vurg and Cardo. I am the only one you left alive out of the three, so only I know the true location. But I am not a fool, Vilu Daskar. I do not trust the word of a murderer, so I will not tell you, no matter what you do to me or my friends. However, I have a proposition for you. Set sail for the northland shore, and when we reach there I will pilot your red ship up the coast and steer you to the spot. That way you will have to keep us alive, at least until you have the treasure. Agreed?"

Bullflay grabbed Luke and raised a belaying pin, but Vilu held up a paw and stopped him.

"Release him, Bullflay. I like this mouse. It will be a change to do business with a creature who has a brain. Good enough. I agree to your proposition, mouse."

Luke could not resist a parting dig at his enemy. "You have no choice but to agree. Dead mice cannot find the treasure for you."

Vilu popped a piece of preserved fruit into his mouth. "How wise of you. Of course I must keep you alive. Meanwhile, days and nights spent in the Death Pit will make you realize how wonderful freedom will be when you eventually gain it. Bullflay, you can be as hard on them as you please, as long as you keep them alive. Go now!"

That night, as Bullflay lay snoring on a heap of old fenders and Fleabitt dozed with his head resting on the drum, Luke winked at his two friends. "Well done, mateys. You played yore parts well!"

Ranguvar Foeseeker whispered across to Luke, "I think I can feel this staple startin' to move!" The black squirrel had wrapped a piece of rag around her pawchains and had been silently heaving and levering for many hours. Only after much strain and effort was the heavy iron staple, which held the running chain that connected all the footpaw shackles to it, beginning to move in the damp solid deck timbers. For the first time since he had been aboard the Goreleech,Luke smiled.

"Keep at it, Ranguvar. Once you've got the staple out, pass it over to me, mate!"

The Goreleechdipped her high bows into the trackless waste of the main, bound north into the night, the red sails bellied to the wind. On she went, like a giant blood-colored bird of ill omen, sated on a cargo of misery.

Vurg was sweating in the sun, prying timbers loose from the wreckage of the Sayna.Beau was sawing away at some sail canvas with a rusty dagger. Beside them on the sand a mishmashed pile of timber and cordage was bound together in the rough shape of a raft.

"I say, old thing," the hare called up to his companion, "we'll need somethin' a bit straighter than that rib plank t'make a blinkin' mast, wot?"

Vurg wiped his brow in exasperation. "Well it's the straightest piece I can find. I'm a farmer, not a boat builder. If'n you can find a better bit o' wood, matey, then yore welcome t'try!"

As he hacked away at the canvas, Beau nicked his ear when the dagger point tore free and shot upward.

"Well keep your fur on there, mousey. I thought the flippin' agreement was that I built the perishin' raft an' you supplied the bally materials. Hold y'temper in the ranks, wot wot, I nearly chopped my ear off there while you were yammerin' on at me like an old frogwife!"

Vurg left off prying loose timbers. Sucking at a splinter in his paw, he climbed down to join Beau.

"Owch! There's so many splinters in me I'd float if'n I fell into the sea, mate. How's our raft comin' along?"

The hare stood paws akimbo, surveying his work. "Oh, splendid, absojollylutely spiffin'! All she needs is a jib boom, spanker, top royal gallants an' mizzen shrouds!"

Vurg peered at him questioningly. "D'you know wot yore talkin' about?"

Beau leaned against the raft. It collapsed. "No, d'you?"

"Yeeeehawhawhaw! Y'ain't figgerin' on goin' ter sea on that thing, are yer, mates? Yukyukyukyuk, worra mess!"

Beau and Vurg were astonished to see a large fat sea lion basking in the channel, watching them. Patting a bulging stomach with both flippers, he snorted a cloud of droplets from his bristling whiskers and chortled heartily.

"Yukyukyukyuk! Looks more like a mad seagull's nest than a raft. Only place you'd go on that termites' brekkist is straight t'the bottom. Yukyukyuk!"

Vurg stood open-mouthed, but Beau recovered his composure smartly, twitching his ears disdainfully at the creature.

"Mad seagull's nest? Termites' breakfast? Have a care there, chubbychops, wot wot! My old auntie used t'say, don't criticize what y'can't do y'self. Pity you never met her!"

Floating flat on his back, the sea lion blew a jet of water onto his stomach and watched it evaporate in the sun. "Aye, more's the pity, flop-ears. I 'ad an ole auntie once, got 'erself et by a shark, cheered my ole uncle up no end. She was a grouchy beast at best o' times."

Beau drew himself up to his full lanky height. "Call me flop-ears once more an' I'll wade out there an' chastise you severely, m'good feller. Name's Beauclair Fethringsol Cosfortingham, Beau f'short. Now, what appellation d'you answer to? Speak up, wot?"

Paddling into the shallows, the sea lion beached himself like a glistening gray rock on the sand. He grinned as he extended a flipper the size of a small table.

"Ain't got a h'allepation. They calls me Bolwag. Pleased t'meet ye, Beau, an' yore liddle mouseymate there."

Vurg shook the proffered flipper. "My name's Vurg!"

Bolwag heaved his bulk farther up, and galumphed around the raft, inspecting it.

"Seen a lot better, an' one or two worse. Not much of a craft t'go chasin' after the red ship, though, is she?"

Vurg looked up curiously at the gigantic sea lion. "How did you know we were goin' after the red ship?"

Bolwag sorted through the mess of timbers with flipper and muzzle, sending planks flying. "Watched it come'n'go fer many a season, Vurg. Saw what happened to your mates. That ole cap'n, Vilu Daskar, he's worse'n any shark, evil beast!"