The Warrior Sheep Down Under (2 page)

What the heck are
they
?”

“Sheep, Skip,” replied the deckhand.

They were indeed sheep. Five of them. Standing at the top of the gangway, blinking at the two men.

“Where did they come from?”

The deckhand shrugged. “One of the vans, I s'pose. I'll ask the drivers when they get back from coffee.”

The skipper glanced irritably at his watch. “No. Just get rid of them.”

“What if they're her pets?” asked the deckhand helpfully.

“She never said anything about bringing sheep!”

“She never said anything about bringing her own chef,” replied the deckhand. “And he's already in the galley slicing up mangoes.”

“Yes, all right, all right.” The skipper gestured sharply.

The sheep saw and nipped quickly aboard.

“Put them in hold number one,” said the skipper.

“Can't,” said the deckhand. “Her multigym's in there. I could make them a pen under the life rafts?”

“OK.” The skipper, Ed, blew a sigh. He had a feeling that the next few weeks wouldn't be all plain sailing.

“Captain Ted, I presume. Lovely to meet you.”

The owner had breezed on-board. A shortish, plump woman swathed in pink trousers and a silky tunic. Expensive perfume filled the air. Ed gulped in several hundred dollars' worth as he turned to face the pearly toothed smile, the flawless complexion, the neat plum-colored hair of Alice Barton.

“It's, um, Ed, ma'am, not Ted—”

“Oh, do forgive me.” She was wrinkling her smoothly powdered nose. “There's an ambience, Ted,” she purred. “Do something about it, will you?”

The skipper stared at her. If by ambience she meant a smell, then of course there was an
ambience
. She'd brought a bunch of sheep on-board. He bit his tongue and said nothing. Alice swept on past and Ed noticed behind her a skinny, pale young woman stumbling down the gangway, bent double under the weight of a huge rucksack marked
Laptops and Other Important Stuff
.

“Where shall I set up the office, Miss Barton?” she gasped.

“In my room, dear,” said Alice over her shoulder.

“Cabin,” corrected Ed, then wished he hadn't. Alice turned, her beaming smile frozen.

“My
room
, Ted,” she said. “On
my
boat. Do we understand each other?”

Ed shrugged and nodded. “I think we're beginning to,” he said.

Alice's smile returned to full brightness. “That's all right then. Do get a move on, Deidre, poppet. I've got phone calls to make.”

Deidre, who was Alice Barton's new personal assistant, gave Ed a nervous little smile as she struggled past with her load.

• • •

By now, the sheep had been penned in a little space under the life rafts. They could no longer hear the plaintive cries and tap, tap, tapping of the maiden in distress, only the low throb of the idling engines and the hiss of white water around the stern of the boat.

Wills was trying to explain. “One of those men said this boat's going on her
maiden
voyage,” he whispered.

Links nodded. “'Nuff said.”

Wills hoped so. “And there's another thing. The boat's called
Destiny
.”

The others stared at him blankly.

“Destiny's something that's
meant
to happen.”

“What, like supper?” asked Oxo.

“More important than supper,” said Wills. Then he added quickly, before Oxo could ask, “More important than breakfast too. Something
really
important. Something like having to rescue a maiden in distress.”

Sal had caught on and, raising her head, she suddenly bleated loudly, “We are coming, Tuftella. It is our Destiny!”

The sheep huddled together, staring toward the endless sea, suddenly rather scared. Could it really be that the future was not entirely in their own hooves? That Destiny might be guiding them? Perhaps it always was.

They became aware that the other
Destiny
, the boat guided by Skipper Ed, was now moving. She'd been untied and was gliding gracefully out of the harbor. When she was clear, her engines surged to full speed, and for some time the sheep could only brace themselves against the wind and spray, and watch the little town of Murkton dwindle behind them. Finally, when
Destiny
was well out to sea, Ed slowed to cruising speed. The engine noise softened again and the wind and spray eased.

“Ohmygrass…” Jaycey shook her pretty head. “What a relief. I can hear myself think again.”

“Don't worry,” grunted Oxo. “It won't deafen you.”

Jaycey gave him a look, then turned to Wills. “Correct me if I'm wrong,” she said, “but we're on this boat because
some
of us think a maiden in distress called to us. Right?”

Wills nodded warily. He knew what she was going to say next.

“So,” continued Jaycey, fiercely, “if she's in that much distress, why can't we still hear her sobbing and sighing and tap, tap, tapping?”

Wills was actually wondering the same thing. He was also thinking back to the wind in the rigging of the yachts in the harbor. He was beginning to fear he'd made a truly dreadful mistake. But as he opened his mouth to admit it, Sal spoke.

“It's because of the sea air, dear,” she said, nodding wisely. “The salt gets in your ears and makes them go a bit funny. My aunt Sybil told me that, when I was a lamb—”

“Yeah, and my stomachs have gone a bit funny too,” said Oxo. “I'm starving.”

There was a moment's silence as the others realized they were too.

“Ohmygrass…” whimpered Jaycey, looking about at the bare wooden planks. “Ohmygrass…There
isn't
any grass.”

But Oxo's nose was twitching. “Stick with me, kid,” he said to Jaycey. “You'll be all right.”

He ducked under the rope the deckhand had put up to keep them in, and trotted off. Quickly, the other warriors followed. Oxo's nose led him to a cabin in the middle of the boat. The sheep crowded around the partly open door and peered in.

Alice Barton was seated at her dressing table. Her short legs only just touched the ground and her rather fat bottom sagged on either side of the elegant little stool. She was surrounded by expensive skin creams and makeup and perfumes in little jars and bottles. She was mixing little dabs of this with little dabs of that. Eventually, she smeared a little cream on her slightly puffy face.

“Ah, that is so good…” she murmured, gazing at herself in the mirror. “Alice, you must never neglect the face beautiful.”

She took a slice of mango from the large plate of chopped fruit beside her. Oxo's nose was twitching violently now but Wills held him back.

“Not yet,” he whispered.

“Excuse me, Miss Barton.” An adjoining door opened and Deidre tiptoed into Alice's cabin.

“What is it, poppet?” sighed Alice, turning from the mirror.

“A phone call from someone who won't speak to me. Says it's private and he must talk to you personally. About Maiden Tower?”

Alice's eyebrows hit her plummy bangs. Wills's eyes opened wide too.

“I'll take it next door,” Alice said. She took the phone Deidre was holding and marched briskly into the adjoining room. “Do go and get me some iced tea, angel.”

“Yes, Miss Bart…” The door slammed in Deidre's face.

Wills and Oxo pressed themselves flat against the wall outside the cabin as Deidre came out on deck, but she turned the other way.

Wills's brain was racing again. The Alice woman was at this very moment talking to someone about a place called Maiden Tower. Could this be the tower where Tuftella, the maiden in distress, was locked? And if so, why would a human know anything about it?

Oxo's mind was still on his stomachs. As soon as Deidre had gone, he was back in the doorway. This time he just couldn't wait. He barged in, snaffled up a mouthful of mango from the plate, and began to chew noisily. Jaycey followed him into the cabin, sprang on to the dressing table, and gazed at herself in the mirror.

“What shall I try first?” she asked excitedly, sniffing the perfumed air.

“Get down!” called Wills, as loudly as he dared.

Just then the plate of fruit slid from under Oxo's nose and crashed to the cabin floor.

“Ohmygrass…” bleated Jaycey. “Ohmygrass!” She turned quickly, trod in one of the little pots of greasy skin cream, skidded, and fell to the floor, followed by a shower of pots and bottles and jars. Their contents splashed and spilled in all directions.

“Deidre?” yelled Alice from the adjoining cabin. “What's going on in there?”

Led by Oxo, the warriors turned tail and ran out, skittering across the messy floor. They charged back toward the little roped-off area under the life rafts, all of them slipping and sliding on their greasy hooves.

Alice burst into her cabin, surveyed the mess for a moment, then strode out on to the deck, colliding with Deidre, who'd responded to her call. Deidre peered in, shocked.

“It wasn't me, Miss Barton. Honestly it wasn't.”

Alice pushed her aside and began to follow the trail of lotions and potions. “Then we shall find out who it
was
, shan't we…”

Back in their little pen at the stern, the warriors huddled close together.

“I only wanted to try some perfume,” whimpered Jaycey.

“Quite nice stuff this,” mumbled Oxo through a mouthful of face cream. “Dunno what it is but it's all right…”

Links was looking at a trembling Wills. “What you tinking now, man?” he whispered. “You's 'bout to explode.”

“Didn't you hear?” breathed Wills. “Maiden Tower…She was mixing up lotions and potions and she knows about a Maiden Tower…”

“Mm…” said Oxo, licking off the last of his face cream. “Lotions and potions, eh? Must remember that—”

“Listen,” hissed Wills excitedly. “When I was in the farmhouse, Tod had a book about knights. Knights were sort of warriors. Like us? Only in the olden days.”

Sal started listening. She was interested in the olden days. Even human olden days.

“And these knights,” said Wills, “went about doing good deeds. Like rescuing maidens in distress.”

“What, even tacky ones?” asked Jaycey.

“Yes! And here's the strange thing.
Sometimes
they had help from a lady. I think Tod called her a fairy godmother. Anyway, this lady always had lots of special lotions and potions she mixed together to make things happen to other people.”

“Ohmygrass…” Jaycey's eyes stretched wide. “You think the Alice woman is a fairy whatdidyoucallit, then?”

Wills shrugged. “Yes—maybe.”

“Ohmygrass…” repeated Jaycey. “You don't…you don't think she'll be angry and make something happen to
me
, do you, Wills? She won't make me
ugly
?”

“No, Jaycey,” said Wills. “That's the whole point. If we're right about her, she'll be on
our
side!”

But as he spoke, a shadow fell across the sheep. Alice Barton was looming above them.

She stared silently down, but then turned abruptly and strode away. Ed the skipper had heard the earlier commotion and was coming down the steps from the bridge. Alice barred his way.

“What…” she demanded, when they were face to face, “are those filthy creatures doing on
my
boat?” She didn't give him a chance to answer. “In fact, I don't
care
what they're doing,” she added through gritted teeth. “Get rid of them at once. Throw them overboard!”

Skipper Ed could feel his jaw jutting.

“If you don't want them,” he demanded, “why did you bring them?”

Alice was astonished. “
Bring
them?” She looked at her unfortunate assistant. “Is this another of your mistakes, Deidre, poppet?”

“No, Miss Barton—”

“What are they going on about?” murmured Oxo to Wills.

“I can't hear properly. They're too far away. But, um, I think she wants to throw us in the sea,” replied Wills awkwardly.

“Ohmygrassohmygrass!” squeaked Jaycey. “Can I swim?”

“Man,” said Links to Wills, “I thought you said the Alice Barton dude was on our side?”

“Now, Links, dear,” said Sal. “Wills
is
only a lamb, remember, and lambs do make mistakes. It's part of growing up.”

“And now his growin' up's finished. We's gonna drown. That's almost the same as dyin'.”

“I'm sorry, guys,” Wills said quietly. “Maybe she's a wicked witch, not a fairy godmother.”

Alice raised her voice a little. “Well, Ted? What are you waiting for? I told you to ditch them.”

“Can't, I'm afraid,” replied Ed. His jaw was jutting out even farther.

“Can't?”

“It's against regulations.”

“What regulations?”

“The Non-Disposal of Fleeced Animals in the Sea regulations.” Ed had just made this up. He glared at Alice, defying her to argue.

Bur she didn't. She leaned closer until her nose was almost touching his. “Then
slaughter
them,” she hissed quietly. “You can have lamb chops for supper every day for a month.”

When Alice had gone, quietly closing her cabin door behind her, Ed and Deidre stood looking at each other.

“You any good at butchering?” asked Ed.

Deidre shuddered. “Oh, I couldn't.”

“Me neither.” Ed sighed and called to a deckhand. “Make room for them in number two hold,” he ordered. “Out of sight, out of mind.”

A few minutes later, the sheep were following the deckhand down some stairs to a small but airy hold on the other side of the boat.

Sal looked around the hold approvingly. “How very pleasant,” she said. “You see, she's already assisting us.”

“Who is?” asked Oxo, scoffing some cauliflower the deckhand had thrown in.

“The, um, you know…”

“Fairy godtingy,” supplied Links helpfully.

“Exactly. Our fairy godtingy. Just as Wills predicted she would.”

Wills tried to protest. He was very confused. “But she told the Ed man to ditch us. That means—”

“No, no, no, dear.” Sal beamed triumphantly. “I'm sure she didn't say ditch. I expect she said
dip
.”

Wills blinked. The other warriors stared.

“Of course,” conceded Sal. “Being dipped is not pleasant. None of us likes being pushed into a tank of stinky water, but it's for our own good. That's why Ida does it every spring: to stop us getting scab and other nasty diseases.”

Wills was even more confused but he didn't have the chance to say more because Sal had closed her eyes and was beginning to sway slightly.

“Hello, she's off again,” muttered Oxo.

“The sheeply warriors brave and true…” cried Sal,

“Will need some help to find that Ewe.

A human, strange in word and deed,

Will be their star and take the lead.

Through foaming waters, Outback dire,

Through thirst and famine, mud and mire,

Her actions may seem
odd
, it's true…”

Sal opened one eye meaningfully.

“But if they want to save the Ewe,

They must stay by the human's side,

They must stay close, for she's their guide…”

Sal opened both eyes and smiled at Wills. “Does that help?”

“Er, yes…I think so.”

Jaycey added excitedly, “If we stay close, she might give me some hoof varnish.”

“What is written is written,” announced Sal.

And nobody could really argue with that.