Eat up, m’dearie, this ain’t no day for mopin’ about. What ails ye, little sad face? Have some raspberry fizz!
Triss accepted her offer, forcing a smile. Are your creatures always as happy as this, Mimsy?
The shrew chuckled. Only when we’ve got nothin’ t’be sad aboutÑwe’ve got our ups an’ downs, y’know. I can sense that you’ve not led a carefree an’ happy life, Triss, but try an’ be like us. When ye get the good times, don’t stop to mope about the bad’uns. Enjoy yoreself while ye can.
Scarum lifted his nose out of a high-piled plate to agree, Well said, marm, that’s my motto too, wot. Even though I was reared poorly, often beaten an’ starved constantly. Crusts, roots an’ springwater, that’s what I was jolly well brought up on. Pale, thin little chap, that was me. Oof!
Sagax, who had given the hare a playful buffet on the back/ laughed heartily. Plus being a terrible fibber, a great fat scoffbag, and the biggest bounder at Salamandastron. If your mum and dad could hear you talking like that! Pay no attention to the flopeared fraud, marm.
Mimsy stroked Scarum’s paw. Let him be. I like a beast who can tell a good fibÑthis hare is fun t’be with. Come on now, Scarum, I’m sure you can manage some damson crumble an’ cream?
From behind the backs of Triss and Mimsy, the incorrigible hare made a face at Sagax, as he allowed himself to be pampered. Seasons bless you, marm, I’ve never tasted damson crumble an’ cream in m’life. I’ve watched Sagax stuffin’ it down many a time, though. He’s the son of a mountain Lord, y’see, while I’m just a lowly peasant type. I say, that tart looks rather nice, wot!
Mimsy carved off a large slice. Oh, you poor beast, here, try some, an’ have some more raspberry fizz.
Sagax looked on aghast as Mimsy and Triss plied Scarum with delicacies from every hamper. The gluttonous hare accepted everything coyly.
Oh, I wonder if I’ll be able to eat a portion that big? I’m only used to nibblin’, y’know, but thank y’marm. I’ll certainly try my best t’get through it, wot.
Kroova flicked an apple pip at the young badger. You should see yore face, matey!
32
Plugg Firetail awoke in the late evening and found himself lying by a fire, covered in an old blanket. Scummy and Grubbage hovered about, watching him anxiously.
Take it easy, Cap’n, don’t try to sit up, you been wounded.
Plugg lay still, listening to them relate what had taken place when the jollyboat was rammed by a stake. He put a paw to his lower back and grimaced. It’urts like the blazes, mates, but I’ll be shipshape soon. No real damage done, eh? He glared quizzically at the pair as they kept silent. Wot? Tell yore cap’n, wot’s up, am I bad’urted?
Scummy’s paw scuffed the grass awkwardly as he explained. That sharp cob o’ wood, Cap’n, it stuck deep in yore, botÑer,’indquarters. We managed t’get it out, me’n Grubbage....
Plugg was fast losing patience. He gritted at them. Stop picklepawin’
round an’ tell me wot’s wrong!
They both moved out of paw range. Grubbage stammered, You ain’t got no tail, Cap’n, it sorta fell off.
The Freebooter’s ugly face squinched up in horror. Me tail? Fell off?
Where is it?
Scummy held up the severed tail. I got it, Cap’n.
The fox covered his face and groaned in despair. Plugg’s tail had been his proudest possession. He had been born silver-furred, unlike other foxes. However, his tail was a beautiful goldy-red-furred one. This had given rise to his second name, Firetail. Often as a young Freebooter Plugg would wash his tail each day, carefully shampooing it with soapwort and almond oil. On going into battle, he had always ordered a crewbeast to run behind, holding a lantern close to display the shine and sheen of that tail. But now the feared Freebooting Captain, Plugg Firetail, had not even a stump of this former glory. Swiftly he snatched the tail from Scummy, looking about furtively.
Who else knows I’ve lost me tail, eh?
Nobeast, Cap’n, we never told any of’em!
Aye, on me oath, Cap’n, only us knows, an’ you, too, o’ course!
Plugg’s eyes danced shiftily as he pondered a solution. Get sticky stuff.
Grubbage leaned forward, squinting. Why d’ye want skilly’n’duff, Cap’n, are ye’ungry?
The fox swatted him with the tail. You shurrup! Scummy, get me some sticky stuff, any kind, but make it good’n’sticky,’asten now!
He stuffed the tail under his blanket as Kurda approached. She eyed him up and down in disappointment. So, you don’t be dead, yarr. Vot a pity, I vas hoping der shtake vould haff slayed you.
Plugg spat, but missed her. So sorry not to please yer, but’ere I am, fit’n’well, yore’igh royalness.
Kurda shrugged. Never mind, der vound might get poisoned and kill you, den I be very glad, yarr.
Plugg bared his crooked teeth at the Pure Ferret. If’n it does, I’ll come back an’ haunt yew, missie!
She stalked off, sniggering to herself.
Scummy returned with a beaker that contained a few lumps of pine resin.
He placed it on the fire. This should do the trick, Cap’n. I’ll’ave ye lookin’ good as new in a tick. Grubbage, you sit on the Cap’n anold’im still. This is goin’ to’urt, Cap’n,’old tight!
Yeeeeguuurrr! BHsterin’ barnacles, that stuff burns. Pour some in the wound, too, mate, that’ll keep it clean. 1 ain’t about t’die, just ter please that snotty liddle madam. Well,’ow does it look, Grubbage? Tell the truth now!
Looks pretty as a summer morn covered wid roses, Cap’n.
The Freebooter stood up, wincing. Never mind no summer morn wid roses, long as it looks like my tail, in its proper place, too. Well, does it?
Both crewbeasts nodded furiously. Oh, it do, Cap’n, it do!
Before they could blink, Plugg had them both by their noses. His claws sunk in ruthlessly. Now lissen, buckoes, one word of this gets out an’
I’ll be a laughin’stock. So, you keeps yore gobs buttoned tight, or I’ll skin ye both alive an’ make a cloak of yore’ides. Do yew’ear me?
Say ÔAye aye, Cap’n’ if’n ye do.
Tears flooding their eyes, both crewbeasts danced tip-pawed on the spot as they obeyed the command.
Hi hi, Capin, uth heerth yith. Yeeeeek!
Plugg limped a few stepsÑthe tail held firm. He wheeled on Scummy and Grubbage. From now on, wherever 1 goes, you two follow right be’ind me. Everywhere! Keep yore eyes on me tail an’ fix it if’n it slips, afore anybeast can see. Aye aye, mates, look who’s sneakin’ into camp,’tis the slavecatcher.
Riggan padded noiselessly down the bank to where Kurda and Vorto were sitting at their own fire, apart from the Ratguards and crewbeasts.
Plugg and his two followers trailed in her wake, Kurda stared haughtily at the three Freebooters, but they did not move. Leaning on his battle-axe, Plugg sneered back at her.
We knew yore spy sneaked out o’camp. Well, go on, Riggan, make yore report to liddle miss pinky eyes.
Kurda could see there was no fooling the fox. She nodded for Riggan to go ahead with what she had learned. Firelight glinted off the tracker’s keen eyes as she spoke. 1 picked up the slaves’ trail, marm, further upstream. They stopped there awhile, then joined up wid some shrews. Nobeast spotted meÑI kept ‘idden. I tracked them up t’the far side o’ that big water meadow, where we lost the voles. Fools! They was all singin’ an’ dancin’ an’ feastin’. So I got as close up to ‘em as I could an’ lissened. The stripedog said they was bound fer a place called Red-wall Abbey, an’ the leader of the shrews said ‘e knowed where it was. Said ‘e’d take ‘em there. Tomorrow morn at dawn light they’re settin’ off. Four logboats an’ yore vessel.