Brian Jacques - Redwall #05 - The Legend of Luke

Now they were alone, with only their wits to rely on. Lying flat on the raft, they paddled with their paws, discussing the situation, while they were still out of earshot of the Goreleech.

"Well, Beau, we've got this far. What's the next move?"

"Patently obvious, m'dear feller. Got to free our friends from durance vile, wot!"

"Huh, I know that, but we won't get very far jumpin' aboard the Goreleechan' challengin' 'er crew now, will we?"

"Of course not, we'd need at least three of us t'do that. We need a scheme, a plan, an idea, or a combination of all three. C'mon now, Vurg, get the old mousey thinkin' cap on. I'm more a leader than a planner, don't y'know."

As they drew closer to the monstrous red ship, Vurg weighed it up carefully, an idea forming in his mind.

"Beau, d'you see those rope'n'canvas fenders hangin' over the sides to protect the Goreleechfrom rocks?"

"Indeed I do, whackin' great things they are, too, some of 'em, bigger than our little raft. Why d'you ask?"

"Because I been thinkin', we could be a fender, too!"

"The deuce y'say, an' what good'll that do, pray?"

"Well, I notice that the stern fenders hang a bit low. S'pose we was to cut one loose an' let it float off. Then we ties our own up in its place an' hides there."

Suddenly Beau was thinking along the same lines as Vurg. "Rather! Spiffin' wheeze, wot. From there we could contact the oarslave chaps at night, when nobeast's about!"

"Aye, get word to them we're here. See if we can't pinch a few weapons t'help Luke an' the others!"

"By the left, I'm glad I thought o' that little plan. Don't slack, Vurg, paddle harder. Please. Hmph! It's one thing strainin' m'brain t'think up these plans, but it's a bit much to expect me t'do all the paddlin', old chap!"

"Oh, button up, Beau, y'make more noise than a squeakin' bottlenose!"

"I beg y'pardon, sah! Confounded nerve o' the mouse, wot?"

"Stop natterin' an' keep paddlin'!"

"Pish tush, I could say the same for you, whiskerface!"

"No you couldn't, floppylugs!"

"Yes I could, bottlenose!"

"Bottlenose y'self, gabbyguts!"

Glaring at one another and arguing heatedly, they ran smack into the Goreleech's stern. Thud!

High up near the afterdeck a window swung open. Poking his head out, a searat, blinking from the cabin lanterns, called, "Ahoy, who's out there? C'mon, show yerself!"

The two friends grasped the bottom of a fender, pulling the raft close in beneath the stern. Huddled together, they held their breath, listening as somebeast joined the searat.

"Aye aye, wot's goin' on 'ere, mate?"

"Thought I 'eard a noise out there. Sounded like two beasts arguin', then summat struck the ship."

A third voice joined the conversation angrily. "Some-thin' will strike you if'n yer don't shut that winder. Can't a beast gerra bit o' rest without bein' blown outer the bunk by draughts from the seas at night!"

The window slammed amid sounds of muffled argument. Both friends gave a quiet sigh of relief. Vurg whispered, "Better wait until later, when they're all asleep. Then we'll see what can be done. What's the funny face for, Beau?"

"Funny face nothin', old lad, I'm blinkin' well famished!"

"Wot, y'mean the vittles are all gone?"

"Exactly, an' the water, too. We'll starve t'death!"

"Don't talk rubbish. You could live off'n yore fat for ages."

"Yukk, urroogh, blaaaah!"

"Don't make so much noise. What're you up to now, Beau?"

"Yurkk, this bally bladderwrack tastes absolutely foul!"

"I ain't surprised, matey. Bet even the sharks turn their noses up at that stuff. Beau, where are ye goin'? Come back!" But Beau was shinning up the stern gallery with the alacrity that only a hungry hare could muster.

"Won't be a tick, old thing. Hold the fort 'til I get back."

A moment later the gluttonous creature had vanished into the darkness. Vurg perched on the raft, nibbling anxiously at his paw, wondering where his friend had gone to. A ferret and a searat were working in the galley. The ferret laid out loaves of hot bread to cool at the open serving hatch, while the rat was occupied chopping up fruit, which he mixed in a bowl with honey.

"Good fresh fruit they got from the island t'day, cullie. Cap'n doesn't go much fer it, but it'll look nice on 'is table fer brekkist."

Sampling a slice of apple, the ferret licked honey from his paws and winked at the rat. "We'll 'ave it fer lunch, after we clears the cap'n's table."

Wiping his paws on a rag, the rat took down a dead pigeon from a hook. "Lend a paw ter pluck this willyer, mate?"

They both bent to the task until the bird was plucked. Shuffling to the cupboard for a roasting spit, the rat stopped, looked at the empty space on the table, just inside the window ledge, and turned angrily on his mate.

"Think yore funny, don't yer? Cummon, put it back!"

"Put wot back? Wot's up, matey?"

"Hah, don't you matey me, y'fat robber. Where's me fruit salad got to? Now give it back 'ere."

"I never touched no fruit sal Hoi! Where's me bread gone? It was laid out there t'cool a moment ago."

"Lissen, slopchops, never mind usin' yore bread as an excuse. I saw yer pinchin' slices of apple outta that fruit salad. I'll chop yer thievin' paws off wid me cleaver!"

"Ho, thief is it? Well you kin explain t'the crew where the bread's gone when there's none fer brekkist, so there!"

"Don't you accuse me o' stealin' yore lousy bread. Take that!" Swinging the dead pigeon, the rat caught the ferret a smack.

"Ooff! That wuz a foul blow. 'Ere, you 'ave some o' this!" The ferret dealt the rat a stinging blow to his rear with a wooden rolling pin, and they fell to fighting in earnest.

Beau watched from his hiding place on the deck, munching on a hot loaf. The sound of approaching paws caused him to slide into the shadows of the galley bulkhead. As he did, a loaf of bread fell to the deck. Fleabitt stopped in passing, noticed the loaf and grabbed it. Gnawing away happily, he went to see what all the noise was about in the galley. Poking his head around the door, he said, "Nice bread this is, mates. 'Ope you got plenny more fer brekkist tomorrer. Likes good bread I does!"

Instantly he was dragged into the galley and set upon by the two cooks, who pounded him mercilessly.

"So yore the one, yer scringin' liddle thief!"

"Owow! Yowch! Murder! 'Elp, they're killin' me!"

The ferret swung his rolling pin with relish. "Kill yer, y'durty grubswiper, I'll murder ye. Take that!"

Brandishing a copper ladle, the rat leaped on the hapless Fleabitt, pounding him severely. "Aye, an' after he's killed an' murdered yer, I'm goin' to slay yer, yew filthy vittle plunderer!"

A sound overhead caused Vurg to look up. Beau's muted whisper came out of the darkness. "Stand by the raft there. Here, catch these!"

Two long hot loaves dropped down on Vurg, then Beau was alongside him, placing a bowl between them both. "Nothin' like fresh fruit salad'n'honey to keep a chap's chin up, wot. Don't hog all the bread, there's a good chap, chuck a loaf over here. Oh, I found a flask an' filled it from the water cask, better than nothin' I suppose, wot wot."

Vurg was glad of the food, though he lectured Beau severely. "Your stomach could've got us both caught and killed. That was a foolish risk you took, Beau. Don't ever do it again!"

The garrulous hare twiddled both his ears carelessly. "Oh, fiddle de dee, mouseymate, what d'you expect a bod t'do, sit here and jolly well starve? Fat chance!"

Vurg could not help smiling at the devil-may-care Beau. "Oh, all right, but be careful. Great seasons, lookit the size of these loaves. There's enough here t'feed most of the crew. Did you have to take so much bread?"