Evening shades were falling fast over the small cove on the east of Sampetra. Grath and Inbar were resting on the grassy slope when Viola came and shook them. "There's a ship coming this way. Look!"
Welko waved to them from the forepeak of Waveworm. "Ahoy, mateys, d'you like our new ship? No more logboats fer us!"
Grath took the heaving line which Plogg threw to her and made it fast to a rock. Martin and the shrews waded ashore, Martin calling to Inbar, "Is Clecky back yet? We lost touch with him over the other side of the islandhe probably found something to eat."
"Don't you worry about mister Clecky," Viola giggled. "He can take care of himself."
There were still plenty of provisions left in the logboat, so as night fell Viola and the two shrews lit a fire whilst Martin and Inbar began preparing a meal. Immediately as a vegetable stew began to simmer, a jovial voice hailed them from the darkness.
"What ho, the jolly old camp! Rovin' fighter returnin' with tales of derring-do, high adventure an' all that nonsense, wot!"
The friends burst out laughing, and Viola called back, “I had an idea you'd arrive as soon as supper was ready, you great furry foodbag. Where've you been?"
Clecky ventured into the firelight, pulling behind him a searat tied up with his own belt. "Evenin', chaps. I say, that smells rather nice. By the by, I don't suppose you've met this vile felon, captive o' mine, says his name's Gowja. Say hello to the nice creatures, Gowja."
The searat, who sported an enormous lump on his head, stood glaring at them. Clecky pushed him so he fell into a sitting position.
"Old Gowja's the strong silent type, doncha know. Come on, you jolly old sulker, no hard feelin's, wot? Say hello to the chaps, don't sit there like a lovelorn limpet, speak up!"
Martin ladled stew into a deep shell and passed it to Clecky. "Leave him for the moment. Let's have supper in peace. Later on he can talk. There's a lot of information we need about this island, the big building I saw today, and what both sides are fighting about. I'm sure Gowja can tell us that."
Baring his yellowed teeth, the searat spat on the ground. "I ain't talkin' to nobeast an' you can't make me!"
With startling speed, Grath leapt over the fire, landed in a crouch facing Gowja and fixed him, eye to eye. Her voice was dangerous, like the growl of thunder on a far horizon.
"Keep lookin' at me, scum, an' don't dare blink! I am Grath Longfletch of Holt Lutra, the only one of my tribe left alive after yore kind visited my home. When I've eaten me vittles you'll talk t'me, in fact I'll wager you'll make a babblin' brook seem dumb by the time I'm finished with you!"
Wide-eyed with fright, Gowja whined fearfully to Martin, "I'll talk to yer, I'll tell everythin' you needs t'know, but keep this otter away from me, I beg yer, please!"
The searat winced as Clecky patted the bump on his head. "That's the ticket, me heartie, we'll even let y'sing us an 'or-rible pirate ditty if you behave nicely, wot!"
While they ate supper, Inbar told Martin of what Grath, Viola and himself had discovered that day.
"We ranged as far as the northwest coast an' found a steep cove, much bigger'n this one. Six vessels were berthed there, big ships, each one about the size of the craft you captured, Martin. There were about five or six vermin guarding them we figured that there must be lots more on this isle to crew the ships, though."
Clecky tore off a hunk of barleybread from a big flat loaf. "Oh, I found those blighters, there's a great crowd of 'em, pas-tin' the blue blazes out o' a pack of those lizard types who seem t'be defendin' the back walls of the palace. I overheard 'em sayin' it belongs to a chap called Mad Eyes. Anyhow, the jolly old vermin want the palace, and the timber stacked behind the back wall, to repair their ships, but Mad Eyes isn't too keen on lettinem have eitherthe blighter's keepin' tight hold o' both, like a squirrelbabe holdin' on to a candied chestnut."
Martin contributed his intelligence to the hare's. "Aye, I've seen that palace from the front; there's a harbor with a jetty there. Saw Mad Eyes too, in fact we saw each other. I'm pretty certain that he's holding Abbot Durral prisoner in that palace. I'll get all the information I can out of the searat and then we'll have a better idea of a rescue plan."
Whilst Martin questioned the prisoner, his friends sat around the fire in the still tropic night. Viola lay on her back, gazing up at the velvety vault of dark skies, scattered with countless stars and a half-moon. The volemaid marveled at the sight of random comets, trailing fiery tails across the wide infinity in brief glory.
Inbar and Grath moved away from the roisterous snores of Clecky and the two shrews. The son of Wallyum watched Waveworm tilt into a slight list as the ebbing tide allowed her keel to rest in the shallows, and said, “Never have I seen such hatred on any face as I saw when you faced that searat this evening, Grath."
The powerful otter glanced sideways at her friend. "And I never told you my story. When I was huntin' alone I formed the whole of my tale into a poem, because I don't ever want to forget, nor want the otter people to. Would you like to hear it?"
Inbar nodded. "I'd be honored if you'd say it for me."
Grath's voice rose and fell, sometimes quivering, often ringing like a brazen bell, as she recited the verses. The words burned themselves into Inbar's memory.
"Sad winds sweep the shores,
Near a place called Holt Lutra,
Where first I saw daylight the day I was born,
And the lone seabirds call
O'er the grave of them all,
Whilst my tears mingle into the seas as I mourn.
For those Tears of all Oceans,
Six pearls like pink rosebuds,
Once plucked from the waters beneath the deep main,
Oh my father and mother, Dear sisters and brothers,
In the gray light of dawn all my family were slain.
They sailed in by nightdark,
Those cold heartless vermin,
Their pity as scant as the midwinter's breath,
Then laughing and jeering,
As slashing and spearing,
My kinfolk were slaughtered by wavescum to death.
But their greatest mistake was,
They left Lutra's daughter,
I swore then an oath that the seasons would show
My green arrows flying,
And seavermin dying,
Cursing with their last breath the swift song of my bow.
So vengeance will drive me,
As long as my paw's strong,
To sharpen a shaft and my bowstring to stretch.
The price vermin paid,
For six pearls from a raid,
Is that death bears the same name as I, Grath Longfletch.''
Inbar Trueflight turned slowly to look at his companion. "That is a tragic an' terrible tale, Grath. I see now how close to death that searat came when you spoke to him."
Grath plucked an arrow from her quiver and sighted down its shaft, testing it for straightness. "Since I laid my family to rest an' went rovin', many corsairs an' searats have fallen to these arrows o' mine."
Her friend shook his huge head in wonderment. "I've never known killin' or war. Ruddaring Isle is a place touched only by good order an' peace. You've seen my archery skills, I'm a deadshot with bow an' arrow, but never did I aim at a livin' thing."
Ramming the arrow back into its quiver, Grath stood upright. ' T was the same till the wavescum came to our holt on the far north shore, but I've learned different, mate. Any creature hol-din' out the paw of peace to searats or corsairs will get it chopped off by a sword. That's the lesson I've been taught, an' you'll learn the same soon, so get used to it. I'm goin't'sleep now."
Turning on her footpaw she stalked off to her place by the fire. Inbar remained seated, staring at his wide, powerful paws. His father had told him that the outside world was a different place; he was not sure he was going to like the difference.