20
Kurda pointed with her sabre at the rock sticking up in the distance, framed purple by the setting sun, Vot is dat island called?
Plugg Firetail had already seen it; he did not even turn to look at Peace Island. That ain’t no island,’tis nought but a big rock stickin’
up out o’ the main. A big lump o’ stone, that’s all.
The ferret Princess kept her sword pointed at the object. You vill sail over dere. I vant to see it, yarr!
Slitfang was on duty as steersbeast. Plugg gave him a look. Keep’er steady on course, I’m the Cap’n o’ the Seascab. He turned his attention back to Kurda.
Yore daddy didn’t say nothin’ about stoppin’ ter look at rocks. My job is t’get ye to Mossflower country an’ catch those runaways if’n we spots’em. Now, why don’t yer let me gerron wid me job. Go an’ lissen t’the crew entertainin’ themselves on the fo’c’sle’ead. Run along now, there’s a good liddle missy!
The Pure Ferret’s eyes blazed scarlet in the setting sun-rays. Von day I cut out your insolent tongue, Freebooter.
Seething with rage, she strode off to the forecastle of the big ship.
Plugg grinned at Slitfang. That proud liddle beauty frightens me t’death.
Hawhawhaw!
Prince Bladd was seated amidst the crew. Tazzin and Grubbage had their paws around his shoulders, teaching him an old Freebooter ditty: Ho’tis nice t’be a villain, wot all honest creatures fears, An’ terrorise the beasts for miles around.
Their scringin’ wails fer mercy is music to me ears, Aye us bad’uns loves to’ear that mournful sound!
A weasel twiddled the last two words on a one-string fiddle as the Freebooter crew echoed them soulfully: Mawhawhawhawnful soooound!
A searat with a ribbon-braided beard took the next verse.
Lissen, mate, I’m tellin’ you, we’re a dirty desperate crew, Each wid a cloud o’ flies around’is’ead.
Filthy Fox an’ Fatty Ferret an’ old Stinky Weasel, too, We’re enough to fill an’onest soul with dread!
Wihhihith derrrread!
He threw his paw affectionately around another searat.
Lookit my old matey’ere, we all calls’im Ripper Rat, Wid no tail, one eye, anarf a greasy ear, Burnt down’is granpa’s’ouse, now wot do ye think o’ that, Just because’is granny called’im’er sweet dear!
Sweeeheet deeeeear!
Ripper smiled bashfully. Pointing at another crewbeast, he sang: Now you take this bully’ere, Scummy Stoat’s’is given name, ÔE’s never’ad a bath,’e’s proud ter say,
‘Til one day far out at sea,’e fell in the watery main, An’ the fishes all jumped out an’ ran away!
Rahaaan awaaaaay!
Grubbage wiped away a tear and blew his snout on Prince Bladd’s embroidered sleeve. Ain’t it luvverly? That’s me favourite ditty.
Though I can’t’elp sheddin’ a tear at the verse where old Scummy fell overboard, it breaks me’eart, mate, every time!
Kurda did not like what she saw. The Riftgard soldier rats were mingling with Plugg’s crew in a free and easy manner. She called their captain to her. Riftun, get de guards down der maindeck. You vill tell dem to stay avay from de Freebooters. Make dem see to their uniforms an’ keep de spears sharp an’ polished!
Keeping his expression blank, Riftun saluted with his spear. I’ll see to it right away, yore’ighness!
Watching from the stern deck, Plugg nodded approvingly. Now, there’s a maid after me own’eart. It ain’t good manners t’make shipmates o’
those Riftgard rats, especially when we’re gonna slay’em later on. Not nice, Slit-fang, I don’t’old wid false’ood.
The steersbeast chuckled. Yore a real gentlefox, Cap’n!
The vast dark bulk of the Seascab plowed on into the night.
Next day was well advanced when Triss and Shogg took their leave of Peace Island. Bistort waited patiently by as they made their farewells to newfound friends.
Welfo stood paw in paw with Urtica, tears shining in her eyes. Say you’ll come back one day, please!
Triss was lost for words, but Shogg replied, We’d be lyin’ if we did, you know that, mate. But no matter where we goes, you’ll be in our thoughts, you’n’Urtica. So both of ye,’ave a good’n’appy life, an’
remember us fondly, that’s the best thing for all. Goodbye, friends!
Bistort caught the otter’s glance and nodded. Come now, else’twill be dark ere you reach your ship. He strode off swiftly, and they followed him without a backward look.
A long meandering fault in the rock ran from the crater rim down to their vessel, which lay hidden in a secret cove. There were pegs, a long rope and some rough steps at intervals. Bistort left them on the rim.
Thy craft lies ready. I wish to thank thee for bringing Welfo to our island. She will be a wife to my son and a daughter to Downyrose and myself. Mayhap the seas will carry ye back this way one day, who knows?
Speak no more now, but go, Let good fortune attend thee and may thy desires be fulfilled, the earth needs good creatures like thee.
No sooner had they cast off than the small craft was swept out into a swiftly running sea, even without the aid of a sail. Triss took the tiller as Shogg unfurled the sail and trimmed up the ropes. The sea made little noise. There were no crests of white foam on the grey-green waves, which moved with an alarming speed and smoothness. When Triss looked back, Peace Island was far away and rapidly diminishing below the horizon.
There was little time for talk or reflection as they hurtled along with the massive oily swells. Shogg relieved the squirrelmaid at the tiller, allowing her to prepare some food for them both. Triss glanced anxiously at the towering green walls of water as the ketch scudded from valley to peak of each one. There was hardly any wind, yet the current was running faster.
She enquired cautiously of her friend, Are we still on course, Shogg?
Staring dead ahead and clenching the tiller tight, the otter replied, Can’t say, matey, we’ve even lost sight o’ the island to use as a point.
I reckon we’ll do well just to stay alive in waters like these. Better reef in our sail, Triss, afore a wind springs up. It might come from the wrong direction, an’ these waves’d swamp us.
There was no sign of the high seas abating as darkness fell. It was going to be a long and sleepless night. Taking a crust of bread and a flagon of water, Triss stationed herself in the bows, keeping a lookout for anything at all that lay ahead. She found herself gazing over desolate watery wastes every time they rose on the waveswell.
Shogg manoeuvred the tiller, hoping against hope that Triss might sight land. Dark cloud masses, muddy purple and smoky cream, began obscuring the stars as they boiled up over the horizon ahead. There was no hint of a breeze. Then suddenly an earth-shattering boom crashed overhead and lightning ripped the heavens into fleeting brightness.
Shogg roared at Triss, Get back’ere with me, there’s a big storm brewin’!
The wind came then, howling out of nowhere. It soaked Triss, whipping water over the bows as she retreated to the stern and grabbed the tiller with Shogg.
Squinting their eyes against the blinding rain, they huddled together, awed by the mighty forces of nature. Every moment Shogg expected one of the mountainous waves to crash down on the tiny craft, but miraculously it stayed afloat, still whipping onward over the storm-rent deeps.