Pearls of Lutra by Brian Jacques
Rollo threw up his paws in despair. ‘So we’re not looking for a hive, just a crack in a wall! This is a big Abbey with lots of stonework, it could be anywhere!’
Furlo took off his work apron and patted Rollo’s paw. ‘Don’t look so down’earted, sir. There’s six of us altogether, and me’n Foremole will ’elp you look, ’tis the least we could do.’
Gerul came hopping in, picking crumbs from his feathers. ‘Good day to ye, the ould Friar Higgle sez that there’s some food testin’ t’be done down here, so I thought I’d be brave an’ volunteer me services, so I did!’
Foremole waved a digging claw at the drinks and cheeses. ‘Hurr, zurr, we’m already dunn et, but thurr’s ee vittles if’n ee’d loik to try.’
The owl’s eyes widened with pleasure. ‘Ah well, ’twill be a terrible task but I’ll do me best. You goodbeasts be off about yer business now. I’ll give ye the results of me labours at supper tonight, so I will.’
Grinning and winking at one another, they quit the cellars.
Tansy stood at the centre of the Abbey lawn with the search party, her eyes roving about to and fro. ‘Where to begin, anybeast got a helpful suggestion?’ she asked.
Foremole came up with a scheme immediately. ‘Ho aye, miss, you come’n wi’ Furlo an’ oi, us’ns search ee walls. Miss Craklyn, ee go with Rollo an’ Dormal, you ’uns lukk round ee Abbey buildin’. That ways both parties do ’ave one young set o’ eyes to ’elp.’
It was a good suggestion. The two parties went off to their allotted places and began searching.
Afternoon shades were lengthening towards evening when Rollo sat down against the east Abbey wall and polished his spectacles wearily. ‘My old eyes are dizzy from looking. Searching for a mason bee nest may sound simple, but it’s definitely not!’
Tansy and her party were halfway round the west wall, having just passed the gatehouse, working towards the south wall, and they were becoming equally dispirited. Sitting on the steps by the gatehouse, they took a brief rest. The hedgehog maid glanced up to see Sister Cicely approaching with a stern face, and said, ‘Oh dear, here comes trouble. I wonder what the Sister wants?’
Folding her paws into her habit sleeves, Cicely pursed her lips and tapped her footpaw, the picture of righteous anxiety. ‘It’s those three Dibbuns again, missing! Take my word, ’tis not the seasons greying my fur or ageing my bones, it’s that villain Arven and those two molebabes who follow him anywhere!’
Tansy tried hard to keep her patience with the pernickety mouse. ‘I’m sure they’ve not gone far, Sister,’ she reassured Cicely firmly. ‘We’re very busy here with a most important task, but if we see them I’ll let you know right away.’
Cicely stood for a moment, gnawing her bottom lip, then she turned abruptly and swept off, muttering, ‘If I find them in the usual state, smocks torn, filthy and dirty, scratched and bruised, they’d better watch out!’
Furlo pulled a face at Tansy and winked. ‘That ’un’s a good ole mouse in lots o’ ways, but ’er temper don’t improve with age. I wouldn’t like to be those Dibbuns when she finds ’em, miss.’
Tansy watched Sister Cicely flounce into the Abbey. ‘I agree with you, sir. Sometimes I think her main purpose in life is chasing after Arven and the molebabes, though half the time they’re not missing, just playing somewhere. Matter of fact I know where they are right now, though I didn’t tell the Sister because she’d only send ’em off t’bed early.’
Foremole chuckled, his small round eyes twinkling. ‘Whurr do ee liddle rarscals be, missie?’
Tansy nodded in the direction of the east wall corner. ‘Over there behind the bushes. They’ve been hiding there all afternoon, I can see the bushes shaking from here. Come on, let’s take a walk across and see what they’re up to.’
Arven, Diggum and Gurrbowl were prancing about in a den they had built among the bushes. They squeaked in dismay as Furlo Stump’s strong spiked head poked through into their lair.
The kindly hedgehog grinned at the Abbeybabes. ‘Now then, y’liddle maggots, what’re you doin’ in ’ere?’
Arven held a tiny paw to his lips and whispered furtively, ‘Us ’idin’ from Sissy Sissly an’ dancin’ bees dances, don’ you tell ’er or she choppa tails off us!’
Tansy and Foremole joined the Dibbuns, and they all sat down together in the cool green shade. Tansy narrowed her eyes at Arven fiercely, but he knew she was only joking.
‘Tansy pansy, we do’s a bees dance for you,’ he said.
Trying hard not to burst out laughing, the searchers watched the three Dibbuns go into their dance, whirring their paws and weaving circles about each other, stopping now and then to stab the air with their tails as they made bee noises.
‘Fzz bzz bizzy buzz, fzz bzz fzzz buzz!’
Gurrbowl and Diggum buzzed on either side of Arven, who had appointed himself chief bee. They held the bushes aside and he danced his way in between them, fuzzing and buzzing comically. Then they let the bushes fall back into place and buzzed aloud as they poked at the air with stubby tails, awaiting his emergence. Suddenly Arven leapt from the bushes, all three buzzed once and bowed, and the dance was over.
Their audience applauded, and Furlo stroked Arven’s head approvingly. ‘Well done, mate, I thought you was real bees for a moment there. I like the way you flew back out o’ yore hive.’
Arven looked pityingly at the cellar-keeper. ‘Tha’ notta n’ive, we norra bees wot live inna n’ive, us bees tha’ live inna wall an’ dig likkle ’oles.’
Furlo gave Tansy and Foremole a quick glance, and began questioning the Dibbuns.
‘Bees wot live in a wall? Don’t be silly, bees don’t live in walls, they’d need ’ammers an’ chisels to make nests!’
Arven shook a small grubby paw under Furlo’s nose. ‘Hah! Grayshuss me, you a bigga sillybeast, you know noffink. Us’ns know bees live inna wall, don’t we, Diggums?’
The molebabe nodded her head solemnly. ‘Ho yuss, zurr, they’m our frien’s, ee beez give’n h’Arven a prezzink for umself, ho aye!’
Arven shot a warning glance at the molemaid. ‘Garr, Diggums, you promise a say noffink to nobeast!’
Tansy leaned close to Furlo and whispered, ‘Did you hear that? Diggum said that a wall bee gave Arven a present, a gift! Leave this to me, sir, I’ll get the truth out of him.’
Arven waggled his tail in Tansy’s face. ‘Tansy pansy toogle doo, worra you been telled about whisperin’, grayshuss an’ dearie, bad bad manner it is!’
The hedgehog maid caught him firmly by the paw. ‘Come here, my little maggot, and tell me, what is this gift the bee gave to you?’
Arven clapped both paws over his ears, closed his mouth firmly and screwed his eyes tight shut, just to let his inquisitors know that he was going to be stubbornly silent.
Foremole winked at Tansy and tried his mole logic on Gurrbowl. ‘You’m loik deeper’n ever pie, zurr?’
The molebabe beamed broadly. ‘Oi serpinkly doo, gurt bowls o’ et oi can h’eat, zurr!’
Foremole took the little fellow’s paw. ‘Hurr, you’m a growen choild, oi ’spec y’can. Show us’ns ee ’ole in wall whurr bee lives, an’ oi’ll give ee a deeper’n ever pie bigger’n thoiself!’
With an apologetic glance at Arven, Gurrbowl took them through the bushes to the southeast wall angle and pointed to a joint between the huge red sandstone blocks, only two courses up from the ground, where the mortar had crumbled. ‘Thurr be whurr our friend ee bee lives, zurr,’ he said.
Furlo picked up a twig and pushed it gently into the crack. Buzzing irately, a dusty rust and brown striped wall bee emerged. Furlo blew gently upon its tail and it zipped off into the air like a pebble from a sling. Furlo probed the crack delicately with his twig, pulling forth a torn and dusty scrap of parchment. He gave it to Tansy.
Spreading the tiny fragment carefully, she read aloud,
‘Your search is done, the sixth pearl found,
Perfect, rose-hued, pink and round,
Back home now in a scallop shell,
Which I hid well and good,
Tears of all Oceans, truth to tell,
Lie stained by death and blood.’
Tansy looked at Furlo. ‘What do you make of that?’ she said.
Tapping the wall crack with his twig, the wise hedgehog explained. ‘I c’n guess wot ’appened ’ere. The wall bee came across this ’ere ’ole by accident, so she thought she’d jus’ clean it out an’ use it ’erself. But first she ’ad t’ get rid o’ that ole pearl. An’ I bet the Dibbuns were playin’ ’ere jus’ then, an’ the bee pushed the pearl straight into Arven’s paws. Be I right, Gurrbowl?’
The molebabe nodded emphatically. ‘Ho aye, zurr, ee’m buzzybee gave et to h’Arven!’
Rollo, Craklyn and Brother Dormal were called from their search of the Abbey building, and everything was explained to them. Furlo, who was a great favourite with the Dibbuns, meanwhile continued the task of making Arven talk.
‘Now then, me liddle mate, you kin take those paws out’n yore ears an’ listen to wot I’ve got t’say.’
The squirrelbabe kept his ears well plugged, but opened one eye. ‘A not lissenin’ an’ me not talkin’, an’ me can’t see ya!’
The friendly cellar-keeper merely smiled. ‘Fair enough, ole pal, you stay like that, I’ll jus’ chat to Diggum an’ Gurrbowl ’ere about the feast in my cellars. Right, you two liddle snips, this evenin’ I’ll let yer stay up late. We’ll play ’ide’n’seek ‘midst the barrels, I’ll rig up a seesaw, an’ I’ll roll you round an’ round in a big empty barrel. Whilst we’re doin’ that down in my winecellars, I’ve no doubt miss Tansy an’ ’er friends will make a fine feast an’ bring it down to us. We’ll ’ave a great party an’ I’ll supply the drinks, strawberry fizz, dandelion an’ burdock an’ gooseberry cup.’
Arven unplugged his ears and opened both eyes straight away. ‘Worra bout Arven, me come a party too?’
Rollo polished his glasses brusquely. ‘Certainly not! Any Dibbun who hides things from his friends and carries on in such a badly behaved manner deserves only one thing. Early bed and warm nettle soup!’
The squirrelbabe shot into the bushes and was out again in a flash. Dropping the pearl into Tansy’s paws, he dashed about hugging and kissing everybeast.
‘I norra bad Dibbun, see! Me a good frien’, Arven like alla you!’
51
GRATH LONGFLETCH TAPPED her tail impatiently on the ground as she scanned the cove at midday. ‘Great seasons o’ slaughter, here we are all ready to go an’ that long lollopin’ hare’s gone missin’. Where’s ’e got to?’
‘Ahoy there, you hearties, all aboard! I’m all kitted out an’ ready to jolly well go an’ do battle, wot!’
Viola had to sit down laughing at the sight of Clecky perched nobly on Waveworm’s prow.
The hare had done a thorough search of the vessel to outfit and arm himself. He had rigged himself out in a pair of baggy red pantaloons and a tawdry cream tunic fringed with blue silk ruffles. Both his long ears flopped under the weight of massive brass rings.
He carried a long piked boathook and a javelin, and into a gaudy green waistsash he had thrust a short axe, three curved daggers and a fearsome scimitar.
‘All aboard the good ship Wavethingy, me buckoes, come on! Time an’ tide wait for nobeast, doncha know!’
Martin turned to Grath. ‘Have you got everything you need?’ he asked.
The otter patted a pouch at her belt. ‘Tinder, flint, canvas, flask o’ lamp oil. That’s all I’ll need beside my bow and arrows. Two hours before sunset, then!’
Martin and Inbar clasped her paws. ‘Good luck and good hunting, and fates go with you!’
Grath held tightly to Inbar’s paw a moment longer. ‘Remember wot I told you, matey, show no quarter to ’em. If they ever found yore father’s island they’d slay yore kin an’ laugh while they were slaughterin’. Keep that in mind, Inbar Trueflight!’ Then, releasing her friend’s paw, Grath took off southwest at a fast trot.
Martin and his friends boarded and got Waveworm under sail, skirting the coast northward to where the corsair ships lay.
The six wave vermin who had been left to guard the disabled fleet were ashore. Well supplied with grog and food, they lounged about on the sand near the shallows, gambling with shells for trinkets. They cheated and swilled grog, throwing the shells in the air, wagering on how many would land upside down.
‘My dagger sez six on their backs, Crabsear!’
‘Taken. I’ll wager me bracelet agin yore blade, Kuja!’
The shells fell onto the sand; Kuja the corsair stoat crowed triumphantly at the searat Crabsear. ‘Only five upside down, gimme the bracelet, I win!’
‘No ye don’t, ’tis six, the dagger’s mine, mate!’
‘Five I say, you turned that’n upside down yerself, cheat!’
‘Cheat is it, yer slime-tongued eel, I’ll give ye the dagger all right, straight in yore stinkin’ neck!’
They were about to leap on each other when Clecky appeared, wading through the shallows around the cove’s edge.
‘Ahoy there, you unspeakable rabble, surrender your ships or I’ll frazzle y’gizzards with me frogslicer, or whatever it is you chaps say to each other, wot!’
Exchanging wicked smiles, the six guards rose slowly, drawing their blades as they advanced on the lone hare.
‘Well, stripe me, buckoes. Who in the name o’barnacles is this ’ere popinjay?’
Whipping out his scimitar, Clecky bounded forward to meet them, slaying the speaker with a single swipe of his enormous blade. ‘Stripe you? Certainly, sir, anything to oblige. Next?’
They rushed him, failing to see Martin bearing down the hill at their backs with his sword ready for action.
Around the other side of the cove, Inbar heard the cries and mounted the rail, reaching for his bow. Plogg put a restraining paw on the otter.
‘Best stay ’ere, friend, Martin an’ Clecky’ll be back shortly. There ain’t no warrior in all Mossflower like Martin.’
Inbar allowed himself to be pulled down to the deck. ‘But what about Clecky?’ he said. ‘There were six guards on those ships, I counted ’em myself!’
Plogg leaned back against the rail. ‘Only six? Clecky could ’ave taken them ’imself! Don’t be fooled by that’n’s silly talk an’ comical manner. As my ole dad always sez, hares are dangerous an’ perilous beasts.’
The shrew’s estimate was correct; it was but a short time until the two waded back around the cove, Clecky chatting animatedly.
‘That vermin was cheatin’, y’know, saw him m’self, he tipped a seashell wrong side up with his footpaw. What a rotter! I’d hate to have that’n sittin’ alongside me at supper, he’d swipe all the salad whilst I had me back turned!’
Martin washed his swordblade in the water and wiped it dry on his sleeve before sheathing it. ‘Hah! When did you ever turn your back on a salad bowl? Any creature trying to steal food from you would starve to death.’
When they had both climbed back aboard, Martin gave Welko and Viola their instructions.
‘Throw all the canvas, spare wood and lamp oil into the hold of each ship – the grog too, that’s pretty flammable stuff. You’ve got flints and tinder enough to do the job. Wait until you see the signal. We’ll pick you up as soon as we can get back here – one of you watch for our ship from the covetop. Good luck!’
Waveworm sailed onward, still hugging the coastline. Welko and Viola stayed with the corsair vessels, waving to their friends until they were out of sight.
Grath Longfletch had gained the highest point overlooking the palace of Ublaz. Two Trident-rats lay limp close by; they had been standing sentry there when the vengeful otter visited them, silent as a leaf on the wind. Kindling a small smokeless fire in a hole she had dug, Grath sat binding oil-soaked canvas strips to four arrowheads. She had seen the exact targets where her shafts would do their work best.
Ublaz Mad Eyes peered
‘Zurgat,’ he rapped out, ‘get the fire bales ready for tonight. I have a strong feeling they’ll mount a major attack on us once it’s dark. Rasconza’s vermin haven’t bothered sending anybeast at us for hours. Look at them – lounging about over there doing nothing.’
Zurgat turned her slow reptilian gaze upon the far encampment. ‘You are right, Lord, they are zaving themzelvez for the battle tonight. Fire balez will burzt upon them in the darknezz.’
Keeping his head low, the pine marten strode the length of the woodpile stacked against the wall, stopping at each of the four large firebales to inspect them. They were heaps of splintered dry wood and dead reeds, wound about with sailcloth and withered grass, liberally doused with vegetable oil.
Ublaz chanced another peek at the enemy camp before turning to the Monitor and saying, ‘When I give the order, and only then. Have your lizards lift the bales clear of my woodpile to the walltop, light them and drop them over onto the vermin. That field is as dry as tinder, the flames will race across it and engulf Rasconza’s camp. If it does sufficient damage, wait again for my command. We should be able to charge around the ashes and finish them off in the confusion that will follow. But await my orders, Zurgat.’
The Monitor bowed after her Emperor’s retreating figure. ‘Mightinezz, I wait your commandz!’
She called sibilantly to the other reptiles guarding the walls. ‘Victory will bring uz lotz of meat . . . Roazted by the firez!’
Dark forked tongues slithered in and out as the lizards hissed wildly.
Leaning over the rail of Waveworm, Martin watched the sun start to dip towards the western horizon.
Inbar checked the tension of his bowstring, and said, ‘Grath should be starting an uproar about now.’
A green-flighted arrow stretched its length on Grath Longfletch’s bowstring; the supple yew arched back as her powerful paw pulled against the beeswaxed string. Dipping the arrowhead into the fire, she watched it burst into flame. Sighting swiftly as she brought up the bow, Grath gave an extra heave against the yew and fired.