The Rogue Crew (20 page)

When Rake Nightfur and his party caught up with Scutram and the rest, the captain was a bit breathy.

“We routed 'em back there, an' they retreated, but Ah'm bound tae tell ye, Lieutenant, nae sooner were we in the clear than the wee villains came back in greater numbers than afore. There's a great, braw assemblage o' wee beasties hot on our tails. Like leaves in an autumn gale, ye ken. Och, there's far tae many for a score o' Long Patrollers!”

Scutram nodded. “I see, sah. Then we'd best put a bit o' jolly fair space betwixt us'n'em. Young Redspore's takin' us out o' these confounded dunes—t'the shore, she says, wot?”

Behind them the sandhills resounded with the yipping and hissing of countless pygmy shrews and sand lizards. Captain Rake signalled the column.

“Forward at the double, mah buckoes. Once we're on flat shoreland, we'll leave them a guid league in our wake. There's nae a creature livin' can outrun Long Patrol hares!”

Speed was imperative, even though it was heavy going through the soft, deep dune sand. Sergeant Miggory, bringing up the rear with another young ranker named Bribbs, could feel the enemy gaining on them. He jollied the young hare along, noting the look of fear on his face. “C'mon, young Bribbs, make a shape. Yore pa was battalion sprint champion. Let's see ye do h'as good h'as 'im. Those shrews'n'lizards are lighter'n us, so 'tis h'easy goin' for 'em. They don't sink h'in the sand like h'us, y'see.”

Miggory dropped back slightly, allowing Bribbs to take the lead. “That's the ticket, laddie buck, make 'em h'eat yore pawdust. We'll show the blighters, eh?”

Bribbs managed a tight smile. “Indeed, Sarn't, we certainly will!”

The column broke out onto the shoreline, setting a flock of gulls, who had been resting on the sand, wheeling into the air, crying harshly. Rake called a brief halt and issued further orders.

“Corporal Welkin, Lancejack Sage, take left an' right point! Redspore, front an' centre. Head north along the tideline. Scutram, ye an' Ah'll drop back tae the rear. Sarn't Miggory may need us, Ah'm thinkin'.”

As they ran back toward the rear, scores of foebeasts could be seen, sweeping over the dunes in massed waves. Scutram spotted Miggory, who appeared to have been slowed down. He was supporting Bribbs. They hastened to join him, relieving him of the burden as they shouldered Bribbs between them.

Miggory ran alongside, explaining. “Young Bribbs was'it by somethin', sah—a dart, h'I think. Couple h'of 'em just missed me, but 'e was unlucky. One or mebbe two of 'em got 'im h'in the back, sah.”

Bribbs winced, then blinked, his footpaws hardly touching the sand as he was rushed along. “Sorry about that, sah. Silly little things, never hurt much, just slowed me down a flippin' bit.”

Scutram peered across his shoulders at the two tiny spikes tufted with downy feathers. They were buried right in the centre of Bribbs's back.

“Slowed ye down, eh? Don't fret—we won't tell your pa. Get 'em out for ye once we've outdistanced this little lot, eh!”

As they rounded the final dune, Captain Rake was nonplussed when he saw the column waiting on their arrival. “Corporal Welkin, Ah thought Ah told ye tae take them north along the shore. What are ye doin' stannin' roond here?”

Welkin waved a lance in a sweeping gesture along the dunes. Both sides of the sandy hilltops, north and south, were teeming with the foebeast horde, ready to charge down on them. It looked like a hopeless position.

Scutram frowned. “Ye did well t'keep the column here, Corporal. If they'd have caught us runnin' north, strung out along the shore, it would've been a flamin' massacre, wot!”

Rake weighed the situation swiftly. Silence had fallen on the dunetops. A whole army of shrews and lizards were watching the hares, waiting for them to make the next move.

Queen Dukwina squeaked scornfully, “It's over, rabbets—surrender or die!”

Buff Redspore glared at the queen. “Nobeast asked for your comments, marm!”

Rake moved casually, flicking the sand with a footpaw as he spoke with Scutram and Miggory. “There's no way out o' this, mah friends. If we fled, they'd pick us off one by one, eh, Lieutenant?”

Scutram smiled grimly. “Fled, sah? Fled, did ye say? Sorry, but we ain't much good at fleein', doncha know.”

The tall, dark captain nodded. “Ah'm obliged tae ye for sayin' that. So how d'ye feel about stannin' an' fightin'?”

Scutram held out his paw. “Thought ye'd never ask, old lad!”

As they shook paws, Miggory's paw closed over theirs. “Pardon me sayin', but h'a quick dash down t'the tideline. Keep the sea at our backs, dig into the wet sand, make ourselves a trench an' make a barrier, a fort. May as well do h'it proper, sahs!”

Scutram smiled approvingly. “Jolly good, Sarn't—a tiptop plan. How'd ye think of it, wot?”

Miggory saluted both officers respectfully. “Put it this way, sah, h'I was fightin' vermin while you chaps was waitin' t'be h'enrolled as cadets.”

Captain Rake winked admiringly. “Och, there's a deal tae be said for experience. Thank ye, mah old friend. Ah, weel, we'd best be aboot our business!”

None of the horde on the dunetops was expecting the next move. Without a word or sign, the Long Patrol column broke away, going pell-mell for the sea, carrying their wounded and captives along with them. The departure was so sudden, it took their foes a few moments to realise what was going on and mobilise themselves. Some of their leaders, who seemed to be female shrews, began to scream and brandish their thin reed lances, urging the main body forward. The horde took up their cries and charged down the dunesides.

Big Drander had hauled the queen onto his back; the empraking was hurried along between Lancejack Sage and Ferrul; Crumdun, though fat, was quite fleet on his paws, running with the column. Bribbs had totally lost the use of his limbs, so Buff Redspore, Wilbee and Flutchers bore him between them. Captain Rake, Miggory and Scutram guarded the rear of the column. They made it to below the tideline just as the first of their pursuers landed on the flat beach.

Digging like madbeasts, young hares scrabbled in the wet sand, piling it up in front of them. Captain Rake was last to leap over the barrier, into the soggy trench. He gave rapid orders. “Dinnae hurl any lances, hauld on to 'em. Those wi' bows an' slings, load up an' stand ready for mah command! How's young Bribbs farin', Wilbee?”

The young hare saluted, choking back tears. “Bribbs's dead, sah. We left him a moment so we could dig the trench. When I went back to him, he was lyin' there all limp, lookin' up at the sun, poor chap!”

Sergeant Miggory, seeing Wilbee's distress, stepped in. “Loss of h'a young life—we're h'all very sorry, Wilbee. But stand ready for action now, h'or you'll be next. Time for grievin' later. Steady in the ranks, there!”

Corporal Welkin took a hasty look at Bribbs. “Cap'n, sah, they're usin' poisoned darts—otherwise, Bribbs would've been just wounded.”

Sergeant Miggory bellowed out an order. “Off tunics, wet'em in the seawater an' use 'em as shields. Darts won't git through wet cloth!”

Then the charge came like a breaking wave.

There were three bows and ten slings in the column. They launched a salvo at the attackers. All the hares were bellowing war cries, loud and wild. The strike of missiles, and the fierce shouts, seemed to drastically slow the enemy onslaught.

Captain Rake decided that it was time to utilise the queen once more. Holding her in front of him, he roared stridently, “Back, all o' ye, or Ah'll fling her intae the sea—take mah word for it, she'll drown!”

The empraking leapt about, assuring them eagerly, “He will, y'know, just you watch! The rabbets have lost one of their young uns, so they're out for revenge!”

Wriggling furiously in Rake's iron grip, Queen Dukwina shouted, “Hold! Keep back—don't charge 'til I give the command!”

The empraking whispered to Lancejack Sage, “That did the trick. She's terrified of the big sea. All of us are, really, an' the lizards can't abide salt water.”

Sage watched the horde shuffling back. “Jolly well seems to have worked, wot!”

Corporal Welkin lowered his wet tunic. “It'll work for a while, but the chaps at the back don't really know what's goin' on. They'll start pushin' those in front of 'em, right, Sarge?”

Miggory nodded. “Right enough, Corp. Sooner or later, the front rankers'll 'ave nothin' t'do but be pushed flat or shoved for'ard—that'll be the charge. I've seen h'it 'appen afore.”

An uneasy deadlock fell over both sides. The trench which the hares had dug in the damp sand below the tideline began to fill up. However, they stayed put, peering over the small barricade of sand.

A short distance from them, some of the queen's supporters were beginning to chant, waving their venomous blowpipes and lances. It was a highly charged situation.

Lieutenant Scutram conferred with the captain. “Won't be long now, sah, by the flippin' look of it. Seems like we're up the jolly old creek without a blinkin' paddle, wot!”

Rake twitched his dark furred ears grimly. “Aye, they'd have charged long since, if only they knew Ah wouldnae drown their queen in the sea. Yer right, mah friend. There's little left for us tae do but stan' an' go doon fightin'.”

Big Drander brandished his sabre. “Take as many o' the blighters with us as we bloomin' well can, sah—what d'ye say?”

Rake Nightfur gave the sturdy young hare a smile. “Ah, weel, laddie, we've got a braw day for it. Ah'm thinkin' we may's well open the ball!”

Drawing both claymores, the tall captain was about to launch into a war cry when a piercing scream rent the air. “Yeeeeeggh!”

This was followed by another, and yet a third scream. Pygmy shrews and sand lizards began scurrying hither and thither. A long red-fletched arrow with a fishbone tip came soaring over the enemy ranks, thudding into the sand barricade.

Buff Redspore climbed onto the sandy rampart, pointing toward the dunes. “Otters, sah—they're bein' set upon by otters!”

Queen Dukwina threw herself flat into the flooded trench, moaning, “Axehound's beasts, the Rogue Crew!”

There were only six of the sea otters, and a seventh one who did not seem to be one of them. Their leader, a burly young beast, armed with a longbow, quiver and battleaxe, came running forward, giving a long ululating call. “Hoolawhey! Hiyareeeee! Fall down or be slain! Hoolawhey!”

The effect of this was astonishing to see. Pygmy shrews and sand lizards dropped their weapons, flinging themselves flat on the shore and covering their heads with their paws. The lead otter strode boldly up to the barricade, treading purposefully on the foebeasts' prostrate bodies. He was a barbaric sight, wearing a woven bark kilt, carrying a round shield across his back and sporting a chunky coronet of amber pieces strung through with silver.

He pointed a battleaxe at the hares in the trench. His voice bore no sign of welcome. “Who are ye, an' where come ye from? Speak!”

Rake mounted the barricade, matching him eye to eye. “Ah know you, mah bucko. Ye'll be Ruggan Axehound, son o' Skor, the bigbeast hissel'. Last time I saw ye, y'were nought but a wee bairn huntin' crabs. Ah'm Captain Rake Nightfur o' the Long Patrol. Did yer daddy never talk o' me?”

The faintest hint of a smile crossed Ruggan's fierce face. “I recall he did. We'll talk of this soon—give me but a moment, Nightfur.”

He turned to scan the shrews and lizards, none of whom dared look up at him. Ruggan spoke out, harsh and loud. “Who gave ye right to war upon the lands o' my father? Ye live here only by the grace of Skor Axehound, mighty Warchief of the High North Coast! Ye skulking shorescum, where are your rulers? Send them here to stand before me!”

Trug Bawdsley pushed the queen forward. “C'mon, old gel. I think he wants a word with you, wot!” Lancejack Sage collared the empraking, who was trying to hide himself behind Drander.

“Up ye come. I think this jolly well includes you, sah!”

Drawing his battleaxe, Ruggan tested its edge. “Now, speak truly. How came all this to be?”

Captain Rake interrupted courteously. “Ah think it'd be mahsel' should explain. Y'see, in a manner o' speakin','twas us who were the cause o' the ruckus.”

Ruggan nodded to a female sea otter. “Endar Feyblade, guard these two, hold them here. I will talk with them later. Nightfur, we will rest and dine in drier sand, by the dunes.”

One of the other sea otters turned to the vanquished army. “Did ye not hear my lord? Go you and bring the best of food an' drink for his guests. Then stay in your dwelling until he comes to speak with ye!”

The seventh otter, who did not seem to be one of Ruggan's warriors, came across to Miggory and pounded his back cordially. “D'ye remember when ye visited Redwall, we sat drinkin' good October Ale in my cellars one evenin'? Sergeant Miggory, ain't it?”

The sergeant shook the otter's paw warmly. “By me scut, h'I do believe 'tis ole Jum Gurdy! Wot are ye doin' h'around'ere, mate?”

Jum slumped down in the warm sand at the foot of a dune. “Oh 'tis a long story, Sarge, a long story!”

Bread, cheese, pasties, soup and cordial were served to them by a group of grovelling shrews and lizards. They rested and ate in the early noon sun whilst Rake narrated what had happened since he saw the line of skulls and hair strung out on spears. Ruggan listened intently to every word, then sent for Dukwina and the empraking to be brought before him.