Sometime after midnight there was a rap on the cabin door. Chopsnout snarled at the beast without, "Go 'way an' leave me alone!"
The rapping persisted, accompanied by a voice. "But cap'n, lissen, 'tis yore ole mate Floggtail. I've spotted somethin' on the shore. Come an' look!"
Adopting a stern face, Chopsnout emerged from his cabin. The crew were gathered on deck, peering at a fire burning on the beach some distance away. The Corsair fox could not help smirking as he addressed Floggtail, the searat first mate.
"Well well, a fire, eh? Looks no different from any other I've seen. What d'ye plan on doin' about it, mate?"
Floggtail stared hard at the firelight, scratching his fat stomach distractedly. "Er, er, Scritchy an' Wippback reckons we oughter tack a bit an' sail beyond that point stickin' up south'ards, cap'n."
Chopsnout smiled encouragingly at the two searats. "Hmm, clever thinkin', you two. Wot next?"
Both searats hastily explained their plan.
"We drops anchor t'other side o' the point, cap'n."
"Aye, then, er, we climbs over that point an' drops in on 'em."
"That's right, then we slaughters 'em all an' robs any vittles we find!"
Chopsnout shook his head in despair at their stupidity. "How d'ye know that those creatures on shore ain't already sighted us an' armed theirselves up, eh? An' tell me this, wot's t'stop this ship sinkin' if'n you takes the time to tack around be'ind yonder point? Well cummon, I'm waitin' fer an answer off'n some bright spark?"
There followed a deal of paw shuffling and blank looks, then Floggtail appealed sheepishly to Chopsnout. "Er, cap'n, 'ow would yew go about it, sir?"
Chopsnout snorted airily. "Ho, yore in trouble now, so youse need yore ole cap'n agin, eh? Well I ain't makin' a move 'til I gets a full apology off'n this crew for the insults I've bore!"
Staring at the deck as if the answer lay there, the vermin crew mumbled disjointedly.
"Sorry, cap'n, er, about yore no ..."
"About wot we said to yer."
"Aye, we didn't mean it, cap'n."
" 'Twas on'y a joke, cap'n, we won't say nothin' no more."
"Yore the best cap'n ever t'sail the seas, sir!"
Chopsnout attempted a sniff, holding onto his nose, which was starting to wobble slightly. "Well all right, so be it. But next time you start any o' that I'm done with ye for good. Now, 'ere's the way I sees it. That fire on shore is only a liddle 'un, an' all I can see is two beasts sittin' by it, mouses mebbe. If'n there was a full tribe o' them, there'd be a great big fire, so I figgers there's on'y the pair of 'em, prob'ly some ole hermit an' his wife. They're either daft or blind, 'cos they ain't seen us, or they wouldn't've lighted a fire an' give themselves away. Hark t'me now, this is my plan. Leave off fixin' the mast an' balin' out water, all four paws on deck 'cos the tide's starting to ebb. Grab any spare planks, timbers or oars an' start paddlin' 'er for the shore double quick. We'll run the Greenhawk up on the sand an' beach 'er high'n'dry. Then we'll capture those two mice an' torture 'em 'til we finds out where they've hid all their vittles. After they've cooked us a good feast, the rest's simple. We fixes the leaks an' the mainmast, chops the ole mouse'n'his wife up fer fishbait, then sails off south fer a bit o' sun an' plunder!"
Bootbrain nodded his head in admiration of Chopsnout. "Stripe me, 'ow d'you remember it all, cap'n? Yore a clever 'un, no two ways about it!"
The Corsair fox drew his ragged frock coat about him haughtily, staring down his imitation nose at the astounded vermin crew. "Aye, that's why I'm a cap'n, so mind yore manners an' git about yore business, you dumbclucks!"
Vurg raised his eyes from the fire on the beach that he and Luke were sitting by. "She's headed straight for us. They've put out paddles. You were right, Luke, that ship'll land here around dawn."
Luke reassured himself by touching the sword concealed beneath his cloak. "Good. Is everything ready, Dulam?"
The mouse who had crawled up in the sand behind Luke made his brief report. "Aye, ready. Old 'uns an' the babes are well away, hidden beyond the cliffs, an' our fighters are waitin' in the caves."
Luke watched the Greenhawk moving closer to land, speaking to Dulam without turning his head. "Tell them to make every shaft count'twill be kill or be killed. We'll only get one chance to capture that vessel."
Dulam wriggled off back to the caves. Luke sensed Vurg's trembling, and he placed a steadying paw on his friend. "Take it easy, Vurg. This is the best chance we're ever goin' to get of startin' to avenge our loved ones. Trust me."
His companion stole a glance at the hard-eyed warrior sitting beside him. There was not a shred of pity or unsureness showing on Luke's face, just cold wrath and determination. Vurg suddenly stopped trembling.
"I'm all right, Luke. I trust you. All of yore tribe do!"
The Greenhawk was aided by a light breeze caught by her square-rigged aftersail, speeding up the vessel's progress, drawing her closer to the pair of forlorn figures huddled about the guttering fire onshore. Reynard Chopsnout drew his cutlass and climbed up to the prow. He crouched there, putting a final edge to his blade on an iron cleat. Already he could mentally hear the whimpers of the two shorebeasts, pleading for their lives. This was going to be as easy as falling off a log!
Chapter 20
Somewhere on the clifftops a small bird raised its beak to herald the dawn, as day's first pale streaks washed the sky outward from the east. The crew of the Greenhawk sweated and cursed as they pushed their craft onshore with makeshift paddles. She rose on a swell and forged forward, scraping her hull into the sand and listing to port, keeling slightly as the ebbing water dropped her on the beach. Roaring and shouting, Chopsnout urged his vermin over the side. "Grab 'em, mates, I want those two alive!"
Luke shrugged off his cloak. Raising his sword, he watched the savage-looking Sea Rogues pounding up the beach. Vurg took up his position, spear at the ready, steeling himself against the wild war cries of the charging foe.
"Haharr, let's see the color o' yer innards, mice!"
"Lop off'n their footpaws so they can't run away!"
"Gimme a cloak made out o' mouse's skin!"
"Eeeeeyaaaaargh!"
Chopsnout could scarce believe his eyes. Leaping down from the prow to bring up the rear, he saw the first wave of ten or so crewbeasts vanish into the ground.
Halfway up the beach, Luke's fighters had dug a trench, lining it with sharpened stakes and covering it with rush mats strewn thinly over with sand. Vermin screamed in shocked agony as they plunged into it. Luke gave the signal, letting his swordpoint dip as he bellowed aloud to his companions, "Now! Strike now!"
Both Luke and Vurg dropped into a crouch. Arrows hissed angrily overhead, thudding into the vermin who were hovering on the edge of the spiked trench. Two more flights of shafts followed speedily, then Luke leaped upright, wielding his sword as the archers dropped their bows and seized fire-hardened lances.
"Chaaaaarge!"
They dashed forward, with Luke and Vurg out in front, leaping the trench and hurling themselves upon the enemy.
Chopsnout had lost his pitchblob nose as soon as he hit the sand. He stood yelling hoarsely at his vermin crew. "Retreat, back to the ship, retreat!"
However, they were suddenly outflanked. The rest of Luke's small force thundered out from a cave situated on the far edge of the point, armed with long cudgels and slings. Rocks whistled through the morning air, cutting down several of the routed vermin, then they were hit from both sides by Luke's lances and the swinging clubs of grim-faced, ruthless mice. Reynard Chopsnout leaped ineffectively at the high beached bulwarks of the Greenhawk. He slid awkwardly back to the moist sand, half raising his scimitar as Luke's battlesword found him. It was over in less time than it had taken for the vermin to beach their boat.