"Well bless m'paws, so it is. Why didn't y'say so, instead of pouncin' on a chap like that? Didn't hurt you, did I?"
Vurg could not help himself. He hugged Beau and kissed both his cheeks soundly, weeping unashamedly.
"Oh, Beau, Beau, I thought you were drowned long ago!"
The hare managed to extricate himself from the tearful crewmouse and held him off with both paws. "Well, if I wasn't drowned then I soon would be with you jolly well cryin' an' weepin' all over me, wot!"
Vurg stood staring stupidly at Beau. "Then you weren't drowned when you fell overboard?"
Beau could not resist striking a noble pose. "Drowned, me laddie? Pish tush an' fiddledy wotsit! Us Fethringsol Cosfortinghams don't sink that easily, just 'cos some confounded storm chucked me in the briny, an' not for the first time let me remark. Well, says I to m'self, let blinkin' Ma Nature use other fools as fish food, not me, sir! So I struck out for the old terra firma, an' stap me vitals if I didn't land up at Twin Islands. Had t'live on the far isle, of coursepesky little insects on this one would eat a body alive if you let 'em, wot."
Immensely cheered by the fact that he was no longer alone, Vurg smiled and clasped his friend's paw firmly. "But you're alive, that's the main thing!"
The irrepressible hare winked fondly at Vurg. "Pretty much alive, apart from havin' me paw squashed by some hulkin' great mouse. Righto, companion o' mine, come on. We'll cross the channel onto my island an' have a bite to eat while we swap yarns. Howzat suit you, ole mousechap?"
Vurg released Beau's paw and turned away. "There's something I've got to do first. My shipmates ..."
Beau sniffed. One of his long ears flopped down to wipe an eye before he answered, "Say no more, friend. I buried them m'self while you were sleepin'. Just finished the job when you sneaked up an' tried playin' piggyback with me, wot! Don't fret, old fellow, I've put the Sayna's crew t'rest in the shadow of their own ship."
Together they waded into the channel. However, Vurg still had a question to ask. "Was the whole crew slain, Beau?"
"Sadly most of 'em were, Vurg, though I never found Luke or wotsisname an' the other chap, er, Dulam an' Denno, that's 'em. Which means they were certainly taken for slaves aboard that foul vessel Goreleech. So, all in all there's four of the old gang left, five countin' yours truly. Hang tight to my paw now, gets rather deep here. We'll have to jolly well swim for it, wot wot. Chin up an' strike out!"
When they reached the far island, it was quite a climb to Beau's den. He had made it over the far side of the hill, facing out to the open sea. Because of this, Beau had not known about either the Goreleech or the Sayna until it was too late. But, as Vurg realized, there was little he could have done anyway against the red ship's crew.
The den was a small cave halfway down the big hill. Beau had made it comfortable and foraged around the island to provide food. Kindling a fire, he put dandelion tea on to brew and produced a meal with his own gatherings and a few things they had managed to salvage from the Sayna's galley.
Warming himself by the fire, Vurg allowed Beau to inspect his wounds.
"Hmm, that's a rather attractive shade of purple on your face there, old thing. Have t'make a compound, take out the pain an' swellin'. Cheer up, Vurg, you'll be as good as new in a day or two, my old nautical matey!"
Vurg heaved a sigh and gazed out to sea. "What do we do then, Beau?"
The hare sliced himself a wedge of fruitcake from the Sayna's stores, adding it to his plate of island salad. "What do we do then? Why, we sit here an' chunner while we grow old together, like two proper desert isle hermits, m'friend. Huh, an' if y'think that, you're a nincompoop! Do? I'll tell you what we're goin' t'do, laddie buck. Make a boat from the wreckage of our ship Sayna an' sail after the red ship. Rescue our friends, an' if we get half a bally chance, we're goin' to put paid to that evil blaggard who calls himself a captain. Disgrace to the blinkin' rank. Right?"
Vurg locked paws with his friend. "Right, Beau. And the sooner we get started the better, mate!"
Chapter 30
The crew of Vilu Daskar had a special name for the Goreleech's bottom deck: the Death Pit. After two days chained to an oar down there, Luke knew the place was aptly named. In hot weather it was airless and foul; when seas were rough, it was awash with stinking bilgewater. Wretched slaves, chained in pairs at each oar, port and starboard, lived and died there under the lash of Bullflay, the fat sadistic slavemaster, and Fleabitt the drummer, his cruel assistant. Both these creatures delighted in tormenting the helpless oarslaves, withholding drinking water, taunting the sick and generally enjoying the misery they heaped without mercy on their helpless victims.
Luke found himself up at the for'ard end, pulling an oar alone, singled out for special treatment under Bullflay's watchful eye. Before chaining his paws to the oar, Parug shackled the new slave's footpaws to a long running chain, stapled at intervals to the deck. The searat bosun pointed out the reason for this.
"Just in case the oar snaps an' you thinks yore loose to escape, well you ain't. This 'ere chain joins youse all to the ship. If it sinks, you go t'the bottom with 'er!"
If Luke turned his head slightly right, he could see Dulam and Denno, manacled to an oar on the other side of the aisle, about three rows back.
Bullflay's whip cracked, its tip catching Luke's ear. "Git yore eyes front, mouse, or I'll flick 'em out with this whip. Yore down 'ere t'row, not look at the scenery!" He strode off down the center aisle, laying about him. "Bend yer backs, lazy scum. Put some energy into it, cummon!"
Fortunately, a strong breeze sprang up later in the day. Fleabitt stopped drumming and gave the order to ship oars. A cup of brackish water and a hard rye crust was issued to each slave. Bullflay and Fleabitt went up on deck, to eat in the fresh air. Luke tugged at his paw chains, calling across to his neighbor, "Do they often leave us alone like this?"
Norgle the otter, seated behind on the right, answered, "Huh, where are we goin' to run to, matey, or are we fit enough t'bite through these chains?"
Another voice growled, "I'll find a way to break 'em someday!"
Luke could not help himself staring across at the creature who had spoken. Directly opposite, chained singly to an oar, just as Luke was, sat a ferocious black squirrel. Everything about her, from the scars to the savage glowing eyes, bespoke the fact that here was a warrior. He felt an immediate kinship with the dangerous beast. She spoke again.
"Look around. All these poor creatures are defeated, because they are slaves, in chains. But Vilu Daskar could not chain the heart, mind, or blood of Ranguvar Foeseeker. Aye, I'll bite through these chains one day, then I'll slay Vilu Daskar, Bullflay, Fleabitt an' as many of 'em as I can, until they bring me down an' slay me!"
Luke stretched his paw until the chains cut into him. "I am Luke the Warrior and I swear on the memory of my dead wife Sayna that we will break these shackles together, Ranguvar Foeseeker. I will stand beside you when the time comes, and we will take many with us before we fall!"
Ranguvar stretched her paw across to Luke. Where the chains cut the flesh, blood mingled from both creatures' wounds.
"We will do it together, Luke. I have waited long for another warrior to come to the red ship. You are here now!"
Gazing into the fearless dark eyes of Ranguvar, Luke had no doubt that they could accomplish anything together. Murmurings came from all around the bottom deck. Denno spoke for everybeast as he called out, "We'll be with you, to the death!"
Luke smiled grimly. "Good! But we need a plan."
By next morning Vilu Daskar had regained his voice, though he still kept the dark bruises on his neck covered with a white silken scarf. Accompanied by Parug and Akkla, he descended to the lower deck and paid Luke a visit. The stoat captain held the scarf end to his nose as the vile reek of the Death Pit assailed his nostrils. Luke kept his eyes down as Daskar addressed him.