Sea Rogues had come running to surround Luke. He relaxed and stood with the blade hanging loosely from one paw. Vilu Daskar stood and bowed slightly. Motioning his crew to stand off, he pointed the scimitar at Luke. "My compliments. You are not only brave, but wise also."
Luke nodded toward the vermin all around him. "The numbers are a bit one-sided, Daskar. I'll slay you one day, but I'll pick the time and place!"
Smiling and shaking his head, the pirate stoat replied, "Well said. I like an enemy who uses his brains. Take him below and chain him back to the oars."
Zzzzipthunk!
Before anybeast could move, Luke had thrown the dagger, embedding it deep in the mast alongside Daskar's head.
"Sometimes a knife can reach further than a sword. Remember that, stoat!"
Luke went down under the press of crewbeasts. Vilu Daskar stood over him, shaking with rage. He raised the sword, holding it trembling over the fearless slave, then, thinking better of his actions, he snarled, "Get him below, out of my sight!"
Sea Rogues hoisted Luke upright and dragged him off, back to the Death Pit of the lower deck.
Bolwag's flipper, damp and heavy, touched Vurg's face, wakening him. The sea lion was back in the water; it was midnight of the second day since leaving Twin Islands. The dolphins were gone.
"Vurg, wake up, liddle friend. Give Beau a shake. Look yonder. Wood Isle an' the red ship!"
Moonbeams danced on the phosphorescent sea. No more than an hour's sailing time away, the Goreleech could be seen, riding at anchor, close to the shore of the island, which looked for all the world like a chunk of forest sticking out of the main.
Beau rubbed his eyes drowsily. "I say, does look jolly pretty in the moonlight, wot!"
Bolwag drifted off from the raft. "Aye, pretty dangerous, too, mate. Well, shipmates, this's where we parts comp'ny. I wouldn't be of much use to ye on land or aboard a vessel. But I got ye here."
Vurg waved at the friendly giant. "So you did, Bolwag, an' our thanks to ye for that. You've done more'n enough for us. Good fortune to you an' those bottlenosesgive 'em our thanks if'n you see 'em again!"
Beau added his farewells to those of his friend. "Toodle-oo and farewell, you old rascal, wot. I'd watch out for sharks if I were you. Remember how they scoffed your ole auntie, bit careless that, keep your eyes peeled, sir. Oh, an' give my regards t'those bottlenose chaps, not bad types really, except for all that pesky spittin' an' squeakin'. G'bye now!"
Bolwag sank beneath the surface and was gone.
Now they were alone, with only their wits to rely on. Lying flat on the raft, they paddled with their paws, discussing the situation, while they were still out of earshot of the Goreleech.
"Well, Beau, we've got this far. What's the next move?"
"Patently obvious, m'dear feller. Got to free our friends from durance vile, wot!"
"Huh, I know that, but we won't get very far jumpin' aboard the Goreleech an' challengin' 'er crew now, will we?"
"Of course not, we'd need at least three of us t'do that. We need a scheme, a plan, an idea, or a combination of all three. C'mon now, Vurg, get the old mousey thinkin' cap on. I'm more a leader than a planner, don't y'know."
As they drew closer to the monstrous red ship, Vurg weighed it up carefully, an idea forming in his mind.
"Beau, d'you see those rope'n'canvas fenders hangin' over the sides to protect the Goreleech from rocks?"
"Indeed I do, whackin' great things they are, too, some of 'em, bigger than our little raft. Why d'you ask?"
"Because I been thinkin', we could be a fender, too!"
"The deuce y'say, an' what good'll that do, pray?"
"Well, I notice that the stern fenders hang a bit low. S'pose we was to cut one loose an' let it float off. Then we ties our own up in its place an' hides there."
Suddenly Beau was thinking along the same lines as Vurg. "Rather! Spiffin' wheeze, wot. From there we could contact the oarslave chaps at night, when nobeast's about!"
"Aye, get word to them we're here. See if we can't pinch a few weapons t'help Luke an' the others!"
"By the left, I'm glad I thought o' that little plan. Don't slack, Vurg, paddle harder. Please. Hmph! It's one thing strainin' m'brain t'think up these plans, but it's a bit much to expect me t'do all the paddlin', old chap!"
"Oh, button up, Beau, y'make more noise than a squeakin' bottlenose!"
"I beg y'pardon, sah! Confounded nerve o' the mouse, wot?"
"Stop natterin' an' keep paddlin'!"
"Pish tush, I could say the same for you, whiskerface!"
"No you couldn't, floppylugs!"
"Yes I could, bottlenose!"
"Bottlenose y'self, gabbyguts!"
Glaring at one another and arguing heatedly, they ran smack into the Goreleech 's stern. Thud!
High up near the afterdeck a window swung open. Poking his head out, a searat, blinking from the cabin lanterns, called, "Ahoy, who's out there? C'mon, show yerself!"
The two friends grasped the bottom of a fender, pulling the raft close in beneath the stern. Huddled together, they held their breath, listening as somebeast joined the searat.
"Aye aye, wot's goin' on 'ere, mate?"
"Thought I 'eard a noise out there. Sounded like two beasts arguin', then summat struck the ship."
A third voice joined the conversation angrily. "Some-thin' will strike you if'n yer don't shut that winder. Can't a beast gerra bit o' rest without bein' blown outer the bunk by draughts from the seas at night!"
The window slammed amid sounds of muffled argument. Both friends gave a quiet sigh of relief. Vurg whispered, "Better wait until later, when they're all asleep. Then we'll see what can be done. What's the funny face for, Beau?"
"Funny face nothin', old lad, I'm blinkin' well famished!"
"Wot, y'mean the vittles are all gone?"
"Exactly, an' the water, too. We'll starve t'death!"
"Don't talk rubbish. You could live off'n yore fat for ages."
"Yukk, urroogh, blaaaah!"
"Don't make so much noise. What're you up to now, Beau?"
"Yurkk, this bally bladderwrack tastes absolutely foul!"
"I ain't surprised, matey. Bet even the sharks turn their noses up at that stuff. Beau, where are ye goin'? Come back!" But Beau was shinning up the stern gallery with the alacrity that only a hungry hare could muster.
"Won't be a tick, old thing. Hold the fort 'til I get back."
A moment later the gluttonous creature had vanished into the darkness. Vurg perched on the raft, nibbling anxiously at his paw, wondering where his friend had gone to. A ferret and a searat were working in the galley. The ferret laid out loaves of hot bread to cool at the open serving hatch, while the rat was occupied chopping up fruit, which he mixed in a bowl with honey.
"Good fresh fruit they got from the island t'day, cullie. Cap'n doesn't go much fer it, but it'll look nice on 'is table fer brekkist."
Sampling a slice of apple, the ferret licked honey from his paws and winked at the rat. "We'll 'ave it fer lunch, after we clears the cap'n's table."
Wiping his paws on a rag, the rat took down a dead pigeon from a hook. "Lend a paw ter pluck this willyer, mate?"
They both bent to the task until the bird was plucked. Shuffling to the cupboard for a roasting spit, the rat stopped, looked at the empty space on the table, just inside the window ledge, and turned angrily on his mate.
"Think yore funny, don't yer? Cummon, put it back!"
"Put wot back? Wot's up, matey?"
"Hah, don't you matey me, y'fat robber. Where's me fruit salad got to? Now give it back 'ere."
"I never touched no fruit sal Hoi! Where's me bread gone? It was laid out there t'cool a moment ago."
"Lissen, slopchops, never mind usin' yore bread as an excuse. I saw yer pinchin' slices of apple outta that fruit salad. I'll chop yer thievin' paws off wid me cleaver!"
"Ho, thief is it? Well you kin explain t'the crew where the bread's gone when there's none fer brekkist, so there!"