Scrabbling wildly, Kurda found her sabre. She wielded it and turned to face her adversary:The Freebooter jumped upright, ignoring his injuries. Everybeast present was witness to what happened next.
There was a loud hissing, and the bushes parted. Plugg half turned to see what was behind him. The three snakes hit him with terrifying force, sinking their fangs deep. The silver fox was wrenched screeching into the air, vanishing backwards into the woodland thickets with eye-blurring speed.
Mates, ‘elp meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
His piteous last cries hung on the still air. Then there was total silence.
Plugg Firetail, famous Freebooter Captain of the Seascab, was gone forever. The sabre dropped from Kurda’s nerveless grasp. All around her, Ratguards and vermin crew stood or lay, open-mouthed in shock.
Grubbage’s small whimper broke the stillness. It’s took our Cap’n.
A concerted wail arose from the Seascab’s crew.
Riggan picked up the fallen sabre and placed it back in Kurda’s paw.
Blood, fur anellgates! Did y’see that thing, marm?
Still staring into the woodlands, Kurda replied, You can track it, Riggan?
The slavecatcher gulped. Ablindbeast wid only a nose could trail that smell, but who’d want to track that thing?
The sabre point was suddenly forcing Riggan’s chin up. Unless you vant to die here, you vill track it. Dat is mine command. De t’ing vas vearing de crown of Sarengo. Dat crown is mine by right!
Morning arrived with pale skies and a light drizzle. The Abbot and Malbun followed the breakfast servers around the walltops, issuing blankets to the defenders. Scarum accepted his blanket and saluted.
Drizzle shouldn’t last long, sah, it’ll break before noon.
Scanning the sky, the Abbot nodded. You could be right, there. Enjoying a full breakfast this morning, I see?
The young hare dipped his spoon into an outsized bowl of oatmeal. I should jolly well say so, an’ I ain’t sharin’ it with any vermin, sah.
I say, those rotters don’t seem to have shown up this mornin’, wot?
Malbun chuckled. No, perhaps you scared them off altogether, after the brave show you put up yesterday.
Scarum made an elegant leg and allowed her a slight bow. Only doin’
my duty, marm, far too modest t’men-tion it. Though if they have turned tail, one would’ve thought the blighters’d let us know. It ain’t much fun standin’ atop of a bally wall for a couple o’days, wot?
Patting Scarum’s paw sympathetically, the Abbot replied, You’re right, of courseÑMayhap you’d be better off inside the Abbey, looking after the Dibbuns. They get a bit restless after a few days indoors ...
Scarum shot to attention, his eyes roving theatrically over the woodlands, as if expecting immediate attack. Wot, an’ leave the little ones unprotected? Not I, sah. Never can tell, the flippin’ bounders might be sneakin’ up on us even as I speak. I’ll hold my post, if y’don’t mind. Faithful unto death an’ true blue, that’s me, sah!
Triss was sitting within earshot of Scarum, taking breakfast with her friends. Sagax laughed. Listen to him, the rogue, he could talk his way out of a beehive with that silver tongue of his!
Kroova remarked drily, Aye, after he’d eaten the honey.
The squirrelmaid chided them. I think you two are being unfair to ScarumÑhe’s very brave and dependable. I’ve grown to like him a lot since we met/’
Shogg put aside his empty bowl. Well, that’s nice of ye, Trissy. Per’aps you’d like to go an’ mind the Dibbuns. It’d save the Father Abbot havin’
to ask Scarum again.
Triss murmured as she applied herself to the oatmeal, There is such a thing as stretching friendship too far, y’know.
Scarum had not heard the conversation, but he sniffed haughtily at the sound of their laughter. Hmph, gladthere’s some chaps enjoyin’
themselves, stuck up here on a drizzly mornin’, wot!
Over at the south walltop, Mokug and Crikulus took their blankets from the Abbot and made a small tent by draping them across the battlements.
Mokug and Crikulus heard the laughter of Triss and the others. The golden hamster remarked to the Abbot, Good t’see they’re keepin’ in’appy spirits, Father. I likes to see that. Young Triss there, she told me she was a slave at Riftgard since she was a babe. Nice to know a pretty maid like’er can come through it all an’ still smile.
The Abbot watched Triss bantering and joking with her friends. Yes, there’s a lot more to that young squirrel than any of us realise. See how she carries the sword of Martin the Warrior, as though it were part of her. I think that our Triss will leave her mark upon Redwall Abbey, one way or another.
Crikulus paused over his bowl of oatmeal. I’ll second that, friend, that young’un looks bound for greatness!
36
Without Plugg to lead them, the Freebooter crew was hopeless. Huddling together at one end of the camp, they sat about, slack-jawed and dull-eyed. Kurda watched them as she discussed the next moves with Vorto and Rig-gan. The Princess had little else than contempt for the Freebooters, and she showed it openly.
Tchah, look at dem, stupid bunch of mudbrains!
Vorto was inclined to agree with her. Aye, marm, they ain’t foraged for food, nor lit a fire. Scum like that are no use to anybeast, eh, Riggan?
The slavecatcher was not so quick to condemn the crew-beasts. Riggan was a thinker, with a wide knowledge of animal habits.
Mebbe they do seem in a bit of a mess, but look at our own Ratguards.
They ain’t farin’ much better, are they? We’ve all’ad an’orrible shock today. They’re frightened, an’ wid good reason, too.
Kurda respected Riggan’s advice, though she tried never to show it.
So, den, tell me more.
Riggan explained, sure that Kurda would take her advice. Well, first we needs to break camp an’ find some-wheres where that bad serpent smell ain’t hangin’ about. Wot everybeast needs is a strong leader, like yoreself, marm. Settle’em down in a new camp, get a good fire goin’Ñnot two fires, but one good blaze for all. Post sentries, get foragers searchin’ fer vittles. Crack’em back into shape.
Kurda was nodding as she listened. Gutt, gutt, go on.
Riggan warmed to her scheme. When everybeast’s lookin’ better, you got to make it clear that yore chief, marm. Don’t take no backtalk or nonsense from Plugg’s ole crew. Y’see, I know yore bound to’unt that monster down an’ git yore crown back. That’s goin’ to mean a lot o’ deaths.
So why waste the lives of me’n’ Vorto an the Rat-guards, when there’s a full gang o’ seascum fer ye to use?
The Pure Ferret allowed Riggan one of her rare smiles. Yarr, ve might even spare der liddle deaf’un, Grubbage, to sail de Seashcab back to Riftgard for us, eh?
The slavecatcher bowed her head briefly. Yore idea is a good’un, marm.
Right, Vorto?
The Ratguard Captain agreed immediately. Good idea, marm!
Kurda patted her sabre hilt. All mine ideas are gutt!
Nobeast objected to moving camp. Riggan chose a spot closer to the path, a clearing in a fir grove with a clean smell of pine. By nightfall things were beginning to look up; a large fire burned in a freshly dug pit and the foragers had brought in berries, roots and several fat wood-pigeons. The weasel Tazzin and a female ferret, aptly named Fatty, were self-appointed cooks. They set about providing a meal for everybeast. Riggan played her part well, jollying both sides along.