Part 10 (1/2)

An' oi'd make 'ee wash ten toimes each day.

Til you'm bad manners wurr scrubbed away.”

Tiny snores announced that the Squidjees were all asleep.

Rose mopped her brow with relief. ”Whew! Thank the seasons the little monsters are finished for the day. Small wonder their mothers don't look after them.”

Pallum pointed to some spare mattresses in the corner. ”All right, you can stop smiling now and get some rest. Lie there and relax. I'll go and get some supper for us.

101.

I think I saw a big mixed fruit pudding with cream and some new cider.”

Grumm flopped down thankfully, swiftly followed by Martin and Rose. Their wooden hobbles clacked together noisily and Rose winced as she held up a paw.

”Sshh! Not so much noise. You might waken the monsters.”

”Burr, oi'd throw moiself offen 'ee clifftop iffen they waked.”

”From slavery to slavery in one easy pawstep, where will it end?” Martin sighed loud and long.

Rose shook his paw comfortingly. ”In Noonvale someday. We won't be here all our lives with a warrior like you about, Martin. Being a nursemaid is not in your stars. I wonder what became of Brome and Felldoh. They'll have drifted in to land, no doubt. That Felldoh is a good tough squirrel. I know he'll look after my brother. I hope they're safe and well.”

Martin could hardly keep his eyes open as he watched Pallum approach bearing a heavily laden tray.

”Wherever Felldoh and Brome landed up, they couldn't possibly be worse off than us. Nursemaids to those tiny rogues. Huh!”

102.

12.

An alliance had been made between Badrang the Tyrant and Cap'n Tramun Clogg. Still not trusting each other, the two villainous stoats affixed their signatures to a sprawling birch-bark parchment, Badrang writing his name in a curly flouris.h.i.+ng script, whilst Clogg laboriously scrawled an X and a crude sketch of a wooden clog, his mark. It was witnessed by Gurrad the rat for Marshank and Boggs the ferret for the corsairs. Tramun repeated the terms as he and the Tyrant took a joint beaker of best parsley wine.

”Harr, so, as I sees it you're goin' to call off yer troops an' lend me some slaves to refurbish an' refloat my s.h.i.+p. Meself on the other paw, won't attack, 'ara.s.s or demand slaves from you. I'm to unnerstand that the slaves you lend me is still yores an' 'ave to be returned. Right?”

Badrang sipped his wine and nodded, tapping the parchment. ”Aye, agreed, and don't forget all this. At such times as you have a seaworthy craft to sail off in, I keep half of your crew as hostages. When, or if, you return having taken more slaves, then they get divided equally between us and you get your hostages returned to give you a full crew.”

Clogg stroked his plaited whiskers, narrowing one eye. ”Fairly said, partner, fairly said. An' I can feed me 103.

crew from yer supplies an' billet them 'ere in yer fancy fort, though I'm never to tell other corsairs or searats as I may come across on the 'igh seas the location of this 'ere place.”

Badrang nodded, refilling Clogg's beaker. ”Right! But don't forget, Tramun, after the first cargo of slaves is split between us you guarantee to sell any further slaves from other voyages only to me. I'll give you the best of weapons, trade goods and supplies.”

Clogg slopped wine as he threw back his head and drained the beaker, then draped a paw around Badrang's shoulders. ”Haharr, just like in the good ole days, eh, matey!”

The Tyrant reciprocated by throwing his paw about Clogg's neck. ”Aye, as y' say, just like in the good ole days, Tramun. But this time there'll be no underpaw dealings, traitors nor spybeasts.”

”Spybeasts? I ain't never used spybeasts, matey.” The pirate stoat adopted a look of injured innocence.

”There, there.” Badrang patted Clogg's neck affectionately. ”I know you haven't. There's nothing worse than a spybeast. Why, if I thought there was one in my fortress I'd tie him to the gates and let my archers use him for target practice. Look, just like that fox over yonder.”

He turned Clogg's neck with his paw so that the corsair was looking at the inside of Marshank's main gates. The carca.s.s of Skalrag hung there, stuck with so many arrows it was like a pincus.h.i.+on.

Even though he was seething inwardly, Clogg grinned from ear to ear. ”Foxes was allus traitors. I never liked that one.”

Badrang tightened his grip on Clogg's neck momentarily then released him. The Tyrant matched the corsair grin for grin.

”Neither did I, matey, neither did I!”

Early morning sun bathed the sh.o.r.e beyond the headland, promising a high hot day. Rowanoak harnessed 104.

herself between the shafts of the Rosehips' gaily painted cart and they moved further along the sh.o.r.eline, away from the close proximity of Marshank. Felldoh and Brome enjoyed the company of the Rambling Rosehip creatures greatly; they had been accepted immediately as friends and possible members.

By midmorning they had set up their camp on the clifftops, where they had an excellent view of the area without revealing their presence. The hare Ballaw De Quincewold and Rowanoak were in close conference while the rest unpacked and prepared lunch. Brome helped Gauchee and Kastern to prepare a leek and bean soup, sn.i.g.g.e.ring with the two mice as they watched the pretty squirrel Celandine trying to flirt shamelessly with a much embarra.s.sed Felldoh as he unloaded the cart, blus.h.i.+ng to his tailtip at her simpering compliments.

”Oh Mister Felldoh, you're so strong! You lifted that trunk as if it were no more than a feather. I'll bet you must be the most powerful squirrel in the whole country!”

Felldoh was completely lost for words. He turned away from the cart and started breaking some driftwood up for the fire.

Celandine dabbed at her brow with a dainty lace square. ”Oh my, oh my. I'd be all season just trying to break one teensy piece of that wood with an axe, and look at you, sir, snapping it in those great paws of yours like it was dead gra.s.s!”

Trefoil the other squirrelmaid unceremoniously bundled a pile of tunics at Celandine. ”Here, missy, get your paws wet was.h.i.+ng those through and leave that poor fellow alone before he turns into a beetroot!”

The temptress flounced off in a huff, laden with dirty was.h.i.+ng. Trefoil began snapping wood alongside Felldoh.

”Take no notice of her, friend. I've seen her fluttering her eyelashes at dragonflies.”

Buckler the mole was erecting the awning as a sun- 105.

shade. ”Burr aye, she'm a gurt flutterer, that un,” he chuckled. ”Oi losed moi 'eart to 'er long seasons agone. Hurr, but she'm a foin arctress too!”

The food was good and simple, hot soup followed by wheatflour pancakes spread with wild honey. The company lounged beneath the awning, eating and drinking cool mint and b.u.t.tercup cordial from an old stone jar.

Rowanoak shook her great head.

”What in the name of trees and turnips made us ramble this far up the land, I'll never know. We had good times in the south, friendly creatures to entertain, nice places to stop awhile ...”

Ballaw the hare made a pancake disappear with alarming speed. ”True, true, but what's a chap got up here in this bally neck o' the woods? Fortresses, tyrants an' corsairs. Bit thick, isn't it, wot? About the only decent thing was meeting you two jolly lads.”

The rest of the company murmured agreement.

Rowanoak stared patiently at the hare. Ballaw carried on guzzling cordial, unaware that he had interrupted her flow. ”If you're quite finished, Mister De Quince-wold?” she continued.

Ballaw dispatched another pancake, daintily licking honey from his paws. ”Not finished dealin' with these pancakes, Rowan me old oak, but don't let me stop you talkin'. You eat less when y' talk. Hawhaw!”

The badger eyed him frostily before continuing. ”Thank you! Now what I have to say concerns our new friends Felldoh and Brome. Here is what I propose. We're up here anyway, for better or worse, so we may as well do something useful. It goes without saying that we will keep our eyes peeled for any sign of their companions, Brome's sister, Martin and the mole Grumm. But meanwhile, as Felldoh has told us, his father Barkjon is a slave in that dreadful fortress. It makes my blood boil when I think of a creature being enslaved, robbed of freedom, beaten, starved and forced 106.

to labor for some jumped-up villain. What do you think?”

There was an instant chorus of agreement with Rowanoak.