Wullger looked pleadingly at Auma. "I can't get no sense outta them, marm, but I think somethin' terrible's 'appened down at ole Ninian's church!"
Auma was around the table surprisingly quickly for one of her long seasons and great girth. The big badger bathed the Abbeymaids' tearstained faces with cold water from a bowl. Skipper and Log a Log kept back the press of anxious Redwallers who had left their seats to crowd around the two exhausted creatures.
Goodwife Teasel assisted, bathing Tansy's brow and calming her until she had recovered enough to speak coherently. Teasel leaned close to the hedgehog maid, stroking her cheek, and said, "Easy now, liddle 'un, take your time, yore among friends."
Tansy's voice was racked by sobs, and great tears coursed down her face as she explained breathlessly, "Ran all the way here ... Attacked by jackdaws ... Ninian's ... Rollo hiding ... in ditch ... Gerul said get help ... Piknim ... Piknim ... Oh, no ... Oh, Piknim!"
Auma was nursing Craklyn; she heard what Tansy said as if from afar. The badger clasped the squirrelmaid's face between her paws and asked, "Is this true?"
Craklyn nodded, her head falling forward in exhaustion. The badger Mother looked at her paws, bloodstained from the deep scratches on the squirrelmaid's face.
Log a Log drew his rapier, his paws trembling with rage as he turned to Skipper. "Fetch back yore daughter an' her crew. Guosim, arm yoreselves, we've got business to attend to double quick. Come on!"
Chapter 35
The Emperor Ublaz Mad Eyes rose in a thunderous mood. He had been awakened by timid tapping on his bedchamber door.
"If you must knock, then knock! Don't stand around there all day tipping and tapping. Get in here!"
Chief Trident-rat Sagitar gingerly stepped into the bedchamber. A shaft of early morning sunlight cut across the rumpled silk sheets onto the face of the pine marten. Ublaz shaded his eyes with a paw, blinking irately at the hapless rat.
"What is it now? Speak up!"
Sagitar took a deep breath before launching into her report. “Sire, one of your Monitors was washed up on the tideline this morning at dawn. He was lashed to a rudder and tiller, slain. This was stuffed in his mouth, Sire."
Ublaz snatched the damp scrap of sailcloth from the rat's nervous paws, unrolled it swiftly and sat staring at the message written in the blood of the Monitor.
"Death to Mad Eyes from Rasconza and the Wave Brethren!"
Flinging the sailcloth from him, he ran to the window and glared out at the hot tropic seas, peaceful and quiet in the early morn. "That makes four altogether in two days, all Monitors! Tell me, have the wavescum returned to the taverns?"
Sagitar shook her head decisively. “No, Sire, nor have they sought to board their ships; the whole harbor area lies deserted. The corsairs and searats have taken to the hills ..."
Ublaz pushed the Trident-rat aside with a snarl. "I know that, blockhead. They have food, supplies and arms that they took with them."
"Could we not hunt them down, Sire?" Sagitar suggested helpfully.
Ublaz whirled on her, his temper rising. "No, we could not. They are only waiting for me to leave this palace unguarded and they will be in here immediately! Go away, marshal all your Trident-rats and the remainder of my Monitors, place guards around the whole area and keep me informed of any movements out there. Leave me now, I must think."
Buckla the searat captain, Guja the steersrat and Groojaw the stoat captain had captured another Monitor. They had the lizard bound and gagged; he tottered ahead of them as they prodded him forward with stolen tridents.
Rasconza sat roasting a lobster over the embers of a campfire at the northwestern inlet of Sampetra. He nodded affably at the trio as they hurled the lizard to the sand.
"Haharr, another prisoner, eh, mates? Wot's 'appenin' down at our Great Emperor's palace?"
Buckla squatted in the shade of a rock, away from the sun's fierce heat, and took a swallow from a jug of seaweed grog. "Aaaah, that's better, ain't gettin' much cooler, is it? Ole Mad Eyes is forted up in 'is palace, afraid t'move out. We delivered the last Monitor like y'said, floated 'im in all pretty like. Sagitar took yore message up ter Ublaz. We caught this'n guardin' the ships on the jetty."
Rasconza prodded the glaring lizard with his swordpoint. "Don't you fret, matey, you won't 'ave to suffer such rough company as us much longer. We'll deliver yer back to ole Ublaz by nightfall, one way or another, eh, mates?"
The corsairs and searats lying about the camp laughed uproariously at their leader's crude jest.
"Do we deliver 'im back in a bit, or bit by bit? Hawhawhaw!"
Groojaw was not interested in the banter. “When do we take back our ships?" he said, scowling at Rasconza.
The fox smiled craftily. "When we're good'n ready, mate; that's wot Ublaz is expectin' us t'do, raid the jetty to get back our vessels. Hah! Ole Mad Eyes'd 'ave a plan laid to stop that, never fear. No, the palace is more important than the ships to us right now. We'll keep Ublaz 'emmed in there until he's ready to parley ..."
Guja looked quizzically at Rasconza. "Then wot?"
The fox drew his favorite dagger and licked the blade slowly. "Then we plays 'im false an' kills 'im.Pine martens ain't the only ones good at treachery, y'know."
Groojaw was still not happy. "But we need ships. What about our vessels?" he said.
Rasconza thought about this for a moment, then he stood and walked to the hilltop overlooking the cove. He pointed down at the vessel that had been scuttled there.
"Yer want a ship, Groojaw? See, there's Barranca's ole craft the Freebooter, she's only been scuttled. I'll wager a goodbeast like yerself with a decent crew could seal 'er up, bale 'er out an' drag 'er ashore at low tide. Once the ole Freebooter is seaworthy agin there ain't a faster craft in all the seas."
Groojaw took a crew down to the cove. When he had gone, Rasconza lay back and cracked the shell from his roasted lobster. "There, that should keep Groojaw 'appy. Besides, we could do with 'avin' a ship afloat that Ublaz don't know about, it'll come in useful."
As night fell Ublaz himself went down to the escarpment to view the body of the Monitor that had been dumped there by Rasconza's crew. Surrounded by an armed guard of Monitors and Trident-rats, the pine marten paid little attention to the dead lizard. He was more interested in the sailcloth that had been thrust into its mouth. Retrieving it, he stood to one side and read Rasconza's scrawl.
"We will talk together tomorrow. Ignore this and I will burn you out. Hoist a green flag if you agree to meet me, midday in middle of island. Rasconza."
Ublaz motioned Sagitar away from the rest, then he walked her out of earshot along the escarpment before whispering to her, "Bring six good archers to my throne room before midnight. Let nobeast see them and speak of this to none."
Ublaz smiled to himself as he strode back to his palace. He was once more back in the game. The fox would soon know he could not outsmart an Emperor.
Waveworm had been free of the fog and ice for more than two days. She ploughed on westward as the weather grew more clement. The sun shone, although the wind was still cold and the seas were rough. Abbot Durral sat in the cabin of Romsca the ferret captain. He gnawed hard ship's biscuit and sipped at a beaker of none-too-clear water. Durral's mind was anywhere but aboard a corsair vessel; mentally he was back at his beloved Abbey, picturing himself pottering about in the orchard with his friend Rollo, or helping Teasel and Higgle with the baking. The old mouse wrinkled his nose, sniffing, and imagined laying a tray of hot scones, fresh from the oven, on a window ledge to cool. Smiling, he had a vision of several mischievous Dibbuns loitering near the scene, to see if they could liberate the odd scone. Durral actually wagged a paw, warning them off. Little rascals!