Part 28 (1/2)
Fishtail the mate leaned across the rail, listening to his Captain's instructions as Terramort Isle appeared like a tiny pinpoint on the horizon.
”Cap'n Flogga should be there with the Rathelm. It could be dangerous fer me, Fishtail- I'm no friend of Gabool or Flogga. When we drop anchor in Terramort cove, I want you to go up to Fort Bladegirt an' spy out the lay o' the land. Take most of the crew with yer, matey. I'll be all right aboard here with Blodge an' five others. Stay well armed an' careful, keep an eye peeled on that Gabool and learn if anybeast brought Graypatch back an' claimed the booty from the Darkqueen's hold. Oh, an' you might have a chat with Flogga, see if he favors Gabool, an' listen out fer any talk of the other 301.
Cap'ns formin' an alliance against Gabool. But mind what I say, matey: be careful of Gabool-he's wild, an' crazy with it. I'll wait aboard this s.h.i.+p for yer return.
Got that?”
”Aye aye, Cap'n. Leave it t' me.”
The gruff voice of Blodge rang through the galley. ”s.h.i.+p oars, me lucky buckos. We'll ride in to Terramort on the swell.”
All around Dandin and Durry the oarslaves leaned heavily on their oars, bringing the shafts down and locking them by wedging the ends beneath the benches, thus leaving the oarblades sloping high out of the sea to port and starboard, giving Seatalon the appearance of a bird with outspread wings as she drifted toward Terramort on billowing sails.
Durry licked his paws gently. ”I feel powerful sorry for the pore child who owns these paws. What my o' nuncle'd say if he saw his fav'rite nephew a-chained up in some scurvy searats' galley I fears to think!”
Dandin wiped beading sweat from his brow. ”I wonder where we are.”
The little oarslave directly in front of him, a field-mouse named Copsey, provided the answer.
”We're coasting into Terramort. Didn't you hear Blodge? It makes no difference where we drop anchor, us rowers stay right here, chained to our benches. That's the life of an oarslave, Dandin.”
She bent her head against the oar and rested. Dandin patted her scarred back. ”Not if I can help it, Copsey.” Wooden bowls were pa.s.sed among the slaves. They leaned toward the alleyway, each holding the big bowl in their right paw, the smaller in the left. Blodge pa.s.sed with his a.s.sistant, a small, evil-faced rodent named Clatt. They had with them two wooden buckets, one full of boiled barley meal, the other of water. Blodge filled the large bowls with water, Clatt the smaller ones with barley meal. Both rats thought it great fun to slop 302.
the water or meal carelessly at a bowl so that it missed and splashed upon the deck.
”Come on, sc.u.m. Lively now, an' hold those bowls out straight!”
”Aye, we're too kind to you idlers, treat you like a pair o' nursemaids, we do. Hee hee hee!”
Using their paws to eat the lukewarm mess, Dandin and Durry listened in to Blodge and Clatt's conversation.
”When I get to Bladegirt I'm gonna grab some roasted seabird an' sweet wine an' some o' those sugary dried fruits King Gabool keeps.”
”Huh, you goin' to Fort Bladegirt? No such luck, Clatt. You're stayin' aboard with me'n Cap'n Catseyes an' four others.”
”Gerrout, Blodge. Yer jokin' with me!”
”Cap'n's orders, matey. Do as yer told, or else!” Blodge drew a claw across his throat, indicating what would happen.
Clatt threw the bucket down, its contents slopping out onto the deck. ”h.e.l.l's teeth! We may's well be oarslaves, stuck aboard this old tub all the time while others are havin' a good leave on Terramort. It's not right, mate, I tell ye. I'm sick an' fed up with it!”
”Nan, you stop 'ere with me, Clatt. I think there's goin' t' be trouble up at Bladegirt. Best we stay out of the way. Tell you what, s.h.i.+pmate-we'll go to the forecastle head cabin an' make skilly, you an' me.”
Clatt brightened up at this suggestion. ”An' some raisin duff. Can we make a pan o' raisin duff?”
”Aye, skilly an' duff. That'll gladden our 'earts. Ain't nothin' like skilly an' duff in a snug liddle cabin.”
Clatt turned to the nearest oarslave, a very young shrew. ”Avast, you bilgepup, d'you like skilly an' duff?” The young shrew nodded vigorously. ”Yes, sir!”
”Well, you won't be gettin' none, it's all fer me an' Blodge. Hee hee hee!”
303.
Durry Quill gritted his teeth as they strode off laughing. ”I'd like to meet that Clatt when I don't have no chains on one day!”
The Seatalon rode at anchor in Terramort cove as evening gave way to night. The wind had dropped, leaving the air still and warm. Captain Catseyes leaned over the rail, staring up to the lighted windows of Bladegirt. Blodge popped his head out of the forecastle cabin.
”Skilly an' duff, Cap'n. Me an' Clatt made enough fer all claws aboard.”
Catseyes left the rail, adjusting the sword of Martin so it rode more comfortably at his side. ”Thankee, Blodge. I think I will!”
00.
The weary oarslaves were slumbering chained to their oars as the hooded mouse stole carefully into the galley-deck. He glanced around, shaking his head at the pitiful figures. The mouse was not young anymore, but he was well set up and strongly built. From his belt he drew several sharp three-cornered rasp files. Dandin had been watching him through half-closed eyes; now the young mouse sat upright as the other crept past him. Dandin caught hold of the stranger's dark cloak. ”Who are you? What are you doing here?”
The hooded mouse held up a warning paw. ”Ssshhh! I bring freedom!”
Dandin nodded, recognizing immediate friendliness in the stranger's voice. ”What do you want me to do? Say the word and I'll help.”
”Wake the others as quietly as you can. Here, take one of these and use it on those chains.”
Dandin accepted the file. He shook Durry and Copsey gently. ”Hush now, be quiet. Wake up the others, but do it softly.”
All around Dandin oarslaves were being wakened as he worked away with the file. It was a good file. He 304.
freed himself then began on Durry's chains. The hedgehog smiled at him in the darkness.
”Wait'11 I tells my o' nuncle 'bout this!”
The strange mouse gave a low whistle, and twenty other mice entered the galleydeck. They set about helping to release the slaves.
A small thin harvestmouse stood up. Unable to contain himself, he laughed aloud and threw his broken chains noisily to the deck. One of the helpers m.u.f.fled the harvest mouse in his cloak, but it was too late.
Pawsteps sounded above, then Captain Catseyes' high-pitched voice called out: ”Who's that? Who's down there?”
The stranger took off his cloak. Beneath it he was a broad, fit-looking fellow, clad in a searat jerkin, though Dandin noticed that he was completely silvery gray. The mouse bundled the cloak up and pa.s.sed it to Dandin. ”Who's that calling out on deck?”
”Captain Catseyes, the Master of this s.h.i.+p. Why?”
”Everybeast back at their oars, hide the broken chains and leave this to me. Be quick now!”
The oarslaves seated themselves, whilst the other cloaked mice hid beneath the galley benches.
”Cap'n . . . Cap'n Catseyes,” the strange mouse called up to the deck. ”Gabool sent me down. His Majesty has news for you ...”
Catseyes came bounding down the companionway. Anxiously he strode up to the strange mouse. ”What news from King Gabool?”
The strange mouse stepped close in, drawing a dagger from the back of his belt. ”Gabool doesn't know, but I brought you this!”
He slew Catseyes with one fierce thrust.