"Haharr, lookit 'em go, like frightened chicks with an eagle on their tails. Run, Mad Eyes, run, y'swab!"
The steersrat Guja, who had not been privy to his leader's plans, looked questioningly over at the fox. "But Cap'n, why aren't we chargin' faster? We could've beaten 'em in an open battle with our numbers!"
Rasconza winked craftily and chuckled. "Aye, may'ap we would, matey, but it would've been a great slaughter an' who knows 'ow many of us would've fallen to those long tridents. My way's better, Guja; now we'll 'ave the mighty Emperor just where we want 'im, outsmarted an' isolated!" Ublaz was astounded to find his palace unharmed. Monitors held gt;ipen the gates as he hurtled in ahead of his pawsore followers. Straight through to the throne room he hastened, to find Sagitar and a Monitor called Flaggard surveying the harbor from the window. The pine marten slowed, regulating his breath, allowing himself a brief smile of relief.
"So, the seascum did not attempt any attack here. How foolish of Rasconza, he might have taken this place in my absence."
Sagitar pointed down to the deserted jetty. “Sire, after you left a small force of them sailed in to the jetty aboard the vessel freebooter. They have made it seaworthy again. They towed -way all the ships that were docked there, from right under our noses. Lord, they laughed at us and waved their swords in the air. It was as if they knew that we could not desert the palace and go outside to do battle with them."
Ublaz dismissed the Monitor with a nod, then poured wine tor Sagitar. His mind was forming a plan even as the wine gurgled into the two goblets. Sagitar looked slightly bemused that her master was not angry. He gazed at the empty harbor and nodded.
"The fox has won a battle, but I will win the war. Come!"
Rasconza and his vermin stood on the rocks, a safe distance away from the rear of the palace. Guja the steersrat perched on top of a rocky outcrop, his keen eyes watching the high back wall of the building.
Then Rasconza addressed his captains and their crews.
"Ole Mad Eyes is trapped like a rat in 'is own cage now, buckoes, he ain't got nowheres t'go. We got the ships, so we rule the seas. We got the island too. Looks like we're in charge as long as Ublaz is bottled up in there. Any signs o' movement, Guja?"
Shielding his eyes, the steersrat peered toward the wall. "Nah! ... Wait! Aye, there 'e is, ole Mad Eyes 'isself, an' the rat Sagitar, too, if'n I ain't mistaken. Hah! Sagitar's got a bow an' arrow. Look out, she's about to shoot!"
Rasconza flicked his favorite dagger high, catching it as it spun downward. "Hoho! They kin fire shafts all day, we're well out o' range!"
The arrow cut the air in a high arc, dipping to hit the ground far short of the Wave Brethren.
Rasconza nudged a couple of rats. "They ain't shootin' to slay nobeast, that's some kind o' message. Go an' fetch it, mates, we'll see wot Ublaz has t'say."
Rasconza read aloud the message written on a parchment attached to the arrow.
"The five ships you have are useless without rudders and tillers. I still hold the timber stock needed to repair them. At dawn tomorrow I will meet you where this arrow fell to earth. I will come alone, unarmed, ready to reach an agreement. My compliments to your skill as a leader and an adversary. I do not wish any further enmity to you; we will make peace and rule together.
Ublaz"
Rasconza tied a red silken kerchief to a speartop and waved it back and forth, signaling agreement to the meeting. As he did so, he said to his captains, "So, wants to talk peace, does 'e? Haharr, I'd trust that 'un like I'd trust you lot with a keg o' grog. But never fear, buckoes, I knows wot Mad Eyes is up to, an' I'm ready!"
Ublaz tied his green silk kerchief to Sagitar's bow and waved heartily in reply as he gave instructions to his Chief Trident-rat.
"This time there will be no mistakes. You have your orders."
Sagitar averted her eyes from the mad hypnotic stare. “Sire, your orders will be carried out."
The pine marten continued waving the kerchief, his voice laden with menace.
"Fail me this time and your trident shall be fixed to the jetty, Sagitar. With your head mounted upon it!"
Chapter 40
It took quite some time for the Abbot to muster up his courage and uncover his eyes. Lowering the blanket slowly, he peeped out at the head of Lask Frildur protruding through the smashed panel of the cabin door. Durral sat fascinated with horror, staring at the big lizard's head, until gradually the truth dawned upon him. There was no foul-smelling breath, the mouth was loosely open and the reptilian eyes were glazed over, half closed. Then the old mouse heard the drip drip onto the floor from a hideous slash beneath the scaly chin, right across the neck ...
The Monitor General was dead!
Durral began to shake all over, his frail body quivering with relief. Slowly he rose and ventured towards the door.
"Hello, is anybeast out there?" he called.
A low, hoarse voice answered. "Ahoy, mouse, 'tis yer old messmate Romsca. Open the door!"
Fearfully, the Abbot shifted the table that had been wedging the door. Trying not to look at the slain monster he unbarred the shutter, pulling inward. Hampered by the weight of the Monitor the door sagged open; Durral hurried past the dead lizard, out onto the open deck.
Romsca sat with her back to the mast, a cutlass clutched loosely in her paws. With an effort she lifted her head and smiled weakly at the Abbot. "You ain't goin' t'start callin' me yore child, are yer?"
Durral shook his head numbly, trying to ignore the scene of carnage around him. Deadbeasts were draped everywhere on the silent ship as it ploughed the watery wastesfrom the masts, over the rails and on the deck, from stem to stern. Waveworm resembled a floating slaughter house. Romsca's head fell forward and the cutlass slipped from her grasp, her voice half chuckle, half gurgle.
"Pretty, ain't it? There's only you'n'me left, Durral."
Hurrying to the corsair's side, the Abbot cradled her head, using the blanket he had brought with him as a pillow.
"Friend, you're hurt!" he cried.
Romsca's head lolled against Durral's stained habit. "Aye, that's the truth, bucko, but I fixed ole Lask good'n'proper, didn't I! Aaahhh! Don't move me, there's only this mast holdin' my back t'gether..."
Durral tried to glance over the ferret's shoulder at her back. She winced and shook her head slightly. "Don't look, you don't wanna see wot that lizard's claws'n'fangs did ter me, mate. Now lissen careful, 'cos there ain't much time. Let go of me easy like, an' make yer way t'the tiller. She's still 'eaded due west, so take a stern line an' lash 'er steady. Go on, Father Abbot, do like I say!"
Making Romsca as comfortable as possible, the old mouse eased himself away from her and scurried aft. Taking the stern rope he tied it to one side of the gallery rail, looped it several times round the tiller and tied the other end to the opposite rail, lashing the ship on course, due west. Then he went on a tour of the vessel. Stumbling over a slain Monitor and two searats he found glowing embers in the brazier in Lask's cabin. He added wood, lamp oil and sea coal and soon had a fire rekindled. First he put on some water to heat, then hunted around until he found an old canvas and some blankets. It was still drizzling lightly when he returned to Romsca; she had dozed off. Durral made a lean-to with the canvas and covered the corsair ferret with blankets to keep her warm, then he resumed his search of the ship.
Noon found the sky darkening. Bruised purple clouds hung over the oily foamless swell of billows, and now the drizzle had turned to steady rain. It was still warm, though, and steam rose from Durral's fur as he bustled out to Romsca with food and drink.