Part 13 (1/2)

Following him up the ornately carved staircase, they entered a roomy cabin with its skylights thrown open. It was a complete living area. Tables, chairs, bunks and cupboards were all about, clean and neat. Two mice, old and gray, were working at a table next to a big glowing stove with its smokepipe thrusting through the edge of the skylight. Vurg introduced them.

”This is all of us left from those who sailed off long ago from the north sh.o.r.es. Myself, Dulam and Denno.”

The mouse called Denno went straight to Martin and took the Warrior's face gently in both his flour-dusted paws. ”No need to tell ole Denno who you areI know. Luke's son Martin. Couldn't be no otherbeast. Yore the spittin' image o' the great Luke, though you got yore mother Sayna's eyes.”

Martin shook visibly, blinking hard. ”You knew my mother?”

Denno nodded. ”Course I did, an' a prettier, more gentle creature there never was. I knew 'em all, Martin, everybeast. But we've got all night to talk of that. Sit and rest now, the food will be ready soon.”

Barnacle ca.s.serole was a delicious concoction of sea vegetables and sh.e.l.lfish. Guosim cooks hurried back to the Honeysuckle Honeysuckle and brought up more supplies. Beau relented, and aided by Folgrim and Trimp he began mixing a big plum pudding. Gonff helped the Guosim cooks to bake scones and bread. Martin and Chugger cut up an excellent cheese, studded with beech mast and hazelnuts. Dinny put together a salad with any spare vegetables he rooted out. Mint tea was put on to boil, and dandelion and burdock cordial poured from a keg into serving jugs. and brought up more supplies. Beau relented, and aided by Folgrim and Trimp he began mixing a big plum pudding. Gonff helped the Guosim cooks to bake scones and bread. Martin and Chugger cut up an excellent cheese, studded with beech mast and hazelnuts. Dinny put together a salad with any spare vegetables he rooted out. Mint tea was put on to boil, and dandelion and burdock cordial poured from a keg into serving jugs.

After the tables were pushed together and set, they sat down. Gonff proposed a toast.

”To the end of a journey, to my best friend Martin the Warrior an' to the wonderful vittles an' good hospitality showed to us by the crew of the Arfs.h.i.+p! Arfs.h.i.+p!

Everybeast raised their beakers and drank cheerfully. As they ate, Furmo could not resist asking the question that was puzzling him greatly.

”Tell me, Vurg, 'ow did the for'ard half of a great s.h.i.+p land up 'ere? It just don't seem possible.”

Vurg munched shrewbread and cheese as he explained. ”Yore right, mate, I wouldn't 'ave believed it meself if'n I hadn't been aboard at the time, but 'ere's how it came about. Durin' the biggest storm anybeast'd ever seen, the Goreleech Goreleech for that was once wot this s.h.i.+p was calledstruck that big rock pillar out in front. I tell ye, waves twice as high as this vessel were runnin' on a sea driven by wind an' rain. 'Twas more like a hurricane than a gale. Well, she whacked that big rock side on, with a force you couldn't imagine. Smashed the for that was once wot this s.h.i.+p was calledstruck that big rock pillar out in front. I tell ye, waves twice as high as this vessel were runnin' on a sea driven by wind an' rain. 'Twas more like a hurricane than a gale. Well, she whacked that big rock side on, with a force you couldn't imagine. Smashed the Goreleech Goreleech clean in two, like an 'ot knife goin' through b.u.t.ter. On board the for'ard part were oarslaves an' Sea Rogues doin' battle. We were flung to the decks like wet leaves in a wind. There was screamin', shoutin' an' weepin'everybeast was sure they'd met their deaths. The stern half fell backward into the sea, and sank in the blink of an eye. clean in two, like an 'ot knife goin' through b.u.t.ter. On board the for'ard part were oarslaves an' Sea Rogues doin' battle. We were flung to the decks like wet leaves in a wind. There was screamin', shoutin' an' weepin'everybeast was sure they'd met their deaths. The stern half fell backward into the sea, and sank in the blink of an eye.

Now, the same great wave that sank it carried us, an' the other half, swirlin' 'round to the back of the big rock. Down, down we went as the wave ebbed away in a torrent of suckin' an' whirlin', an' we thought we was surely done for. Then another giant wave rounded the rock an' lifted us, easy as a paw lifts a grain o' sand. Up we rose, up, up, high in the air. From where I lay on the deck, I saw the two pinnacles as the wavecrest flung us forward. Suddenly a shudderin' shock ran through me from tail to eartips. Then everythin' went still.

”I opened me eyes and stood up. We were wedged fast, right up 'ere, the broken mids.h.i.+ps restin' flat on a ledge of one column, the prow on another, with the big iron spike that stuck out front, driven like a nail, deep into the rock!”

Gonff forgot the beaker which was halfway to his lips, and sat shaking his head. ”An' what happened next, Vurg?”

The old mouse chuckled as he speared a scone with his knife. ”Me'n'Beau rallied our fighters fast an' finished off those sc.u.mmy Sea Rogues afore they 'ad a chance t'get us. We've lived 'ere ever since. Nothin'll s.h.i.+ft the ole Arfs.h.i.+p. Arfs.h.i.+p. She's weathered time'n'tides, storm an' seasons, aye, an' never budged a splinter. After a while we made a rope cradle an' rigged a line over t'the cliffs on sh.o.r.e. Many creatures left an' went off t'find their ole homes. A score of us stayed 'ere. But that was long ago. Now there's only Dulam, Denno, me'n'Beau left out o' them all. Most o' our mates died. They're wrapped in sailcloth, weighted down with stones, sleepin' on the seabed far below us. Fates be kind t'their memories!” She's weathered time'n'tides, storm an' seasons, aye, an' never budged a splinter. After a while we made a rope cradle an' rigged a line over t'the cliffs on sh.o.r.e. Many creatures left an' went off t'find their ole homes. A score of us stayed 'ere. But that was long ago. Now there's only Dulam, Denno, me'n'Beau left out o' them all. Most o' our mates died. They're wrapped in sailcloth, weighted down with stones, sleepin' on the seabed far below us. Fates be kind t'their memories!”

Martin decided that the time had come. ”Tell me, Vurg, what became of my father, Luke the Warrior?”

Beau rose stiffly and went to a cupboard. He returned to the table with a large, dusty volume. ” 'Tis all within these pages, Martin, everything, as best as the four of us can recall. We spent many a winter an' autumn night recordin' the entire tale. 'Twas a joint work. D'y'know, I thought it might be found by somebeast, long after we were gone. But fate an' fortunes've smiled on us, laddie buck. There's food'n'drink on the table an' a long night ahead of us, wot! Here, Denno, you young whipper-snapper, you can understand your own writing best. Read the journal to our friends, there's a good chap!”

Denno polished a tiny pair of gla.s.ses. Perching them on his nose, he looked over at Martin. ”I was the scribe, y'see. Right, let's start at the beginning. I 'ope you like the t.i.tle. 'Tis called 'In the Wake of the Red s.h.i.+p,' this being an account of Luke the Warrior, written by his friends.”

Outside, the eternal seas washed against Tall Rocks, and breezes sighed a wistful dirge about the basalt columns where seabirds wheeled and called. In the cabin, high among the pinnacles, Martin of Redwall listened as the saga of his father, Luke the Warrior, unfolded.

Book 2

Luke

Chapter 17.

There were other mice in the tribe, older and more experienced, younger mice also, bigger and stronger. But everybeast regarded Luke as their natural leader. As mice? go, he was nothing special to look upon, of average height and stocky build. However, on closer observation it became obvious that Luke was a warrior born. Behind his calm dark eyes there lurked a flame, his stance bespoke fearlessness, some indefinable quality in his whole att.i.tude marked him as one in whom others could put their unquestioning trust. A mouse tribe could look to him for guidance, and he could always be counted on for fairness and wisdom in his decisions. Such a creature was Luke the Warrior.

Over many seasons the tribe had wandered under his leaders.h.i.+p. Long ago they had left the warm areas of abundance, those places where verminous villains preyed upon any who sought the peaceful life. Constant warfare against outnumbering odds had forced Luke's tribe into the nomadic way, always seeking and searching for some place where they would not have to sleep paw on sword, with one eye open. From the fertile middle lands they roamed north, where the weather was cold and the land bleak and spa.r.s.e. On the day they reached the northland coast, Luke thrust his sword into the earth. This would be his tribe's new home. It was a lonely place, quiet and undisturbed.

The tribe approved Luke's decision. Hardworking beasts could wrest a living from the ground here, providing they were left in peace to do so. There were caves in the base of the cliffs which backed the sh.o.r.e, a high rocky cape thrusting out into the sea at the southern point. It felt safe, with cliffs at the back and the seas in front of them. There was good soil on the clifftops, which could be planted and farmed in spring, summer and autumn.

For the first few days they kept a low profile, living off what supplies they had stored, making the caves habitable. During this time, Luke and his friends patrolled the area, watching out for enemies, robber bands and vermin raiders. Luke knew that his tribe was only a small one, wearied by constant travel, and would not be able to resist any major attack from a large force. But happily there was neither sight nor trace of foebeast.

Then, on the fourth day, Luke strode ahead of the rest as they made their way back to the caves. His step was light, and a shudder of joy ran through him. He felt that this forsaken northland coast was already bringing him happiness. Only two days before, his wife Sayna had given birth to their first little one, a son. They would call the new baby mouse by the name of Martin. Luke's grandsire had been named Martin, and when he was young, Luke had often listened to tales that were told of the formidable Warrior mouse. It was his sword that Luke carried in the sheath on his back, given to him by his own father. Luke was the third of his family to carry the old battleblade, and one day, when the time was right, little Martin would be the next.

The tribe was busy preparing a feast for Luke and Sayna's son, the first little one to be born on the northland coast. There was to be a great bonfire, too. As Luke came within sight of the caves, he could see the ever growing mound of driftwood and dead timber being piled above the tideline. Two young mice were struggling to drag a big chunk of driftwood along the sh.o.r.e. Luke approached them, a smile hovering on his face at their efforts.

”Well well, Timballisto and Fripple, when d'you plan on gettin' that log to the bonfire pile, next season?”

Both mice were little better than three seasons old. They sat down wearily on the log, big round eyes imploring Luke.

” 'S too blinkin' big for us, Luke. Will y'lend a paw?”

The Warrior mouse drew his ancient battlesword from its sheath on his back and swung it high overhead, bringing the sharp blade down to bite deep into the wood.

”Righto, you two rascals, grab ahold of the swordhilt with me. We'll see if it moves any easier with us three strong beasts pulling it. Come on!”

Heaving energetically, Luke tugged the lump of wood through the sand. He watched fondly as the two little mice pulled valiantly, each latched onto the cross.h.i.+lt.

When they brought the log to the pile of timber, Luke allowed Fripple and Timballisto to help him loose the swordblade, though he could have easily done it alone. He pa.s.sed a paw across his brow, winking at them. ”Whew! Thankee, mates, 'twas a job well done!”

The little mousemaid Fripple took hold of Luke's paw. ”Please, Luke, will y'take me to your cave to see your new baby Martin, please, Luke?”

Luke could not help chuckling at the beseeching look on Fripple's face. He tweaked her paw gently. ”Of course I will, pretty one. What about you, Timbal?”

Timballisto scowled fiercely. ”I'll stay 'ere an' guard our wood 'til y'get back!”

Martin's cradle was a hollowed-out log, lined with soft moss and a woven blanket. The only family Luke had left in the world sat by it, his wife Sayna and her mother Windred. Crowing with delight, Fripple leaned over the cradle and took the baby's paw in hers. ”Oh my my, isn't he a lovely likkle feller!”

Sayna held the mousemaid's smock, lest she fall into the cradle. ”Aye, he's a good baby, no trouble at all. I think he will grow bigger and stronger than his daddy.”

Martin's eyes watched solemnly as his father loomed over him. He raised a tiny paw, reaching for the hilt protruding over his father's shoulder. This delighted Luke.

”Hoho, look at this bucko, tryin' to draw my sword!”

Windred hovered around the cradle anxiously. ”Be careful, he might cut himself on that blade!”

Luke rea.s.sured the fussing old mousewife. ”Oh no he won't. Martin's a warrior born, I feel it. Let my son hold the sword. It'll be his one day.”

Sayna watched her serious-faced babe trying to wrap his little paws around the blackbound haft with its redstone pommel. She s.h.i.+vered slightly. ”May the fates forbid that he'll ever have to use it in war.”

Luke released Martin's hold and stood up straight. ”Don't worry, Sayna. That'll never happen while I'm around. Besides, I don't think we'll be bothered here, being this far north. We searched the sh.o.r.es an' cliffs both ways. There's nothin' much to the south, an' if you go farther north there's only some great tall rocks stickin' up out o' the sea about three days from here. Not a pawprint of vermin anywhere. Now, what about our son's feast?”

Windred turned to the cave entrance. Out on the sh.o.r.e the mice of the tribe were setting out what food they had foraged by the unlit bonfire. Each had brought what they could afford to spare, but it was not much. Windred spoke. ”Hah! Feast, you say? 'Tis a wonder we keep fur around bone on this forsaken coast. You've brought us to a cold an' hungry place, Luke!”