Pearls of Lutra by Brian Jacques
‘What are we going to do now?’ she said.
53
UBLAZ HAD ARMED himself with a long curved sabre. He stood in the palace entrance hall, brandishing it at the forty or so Monitors left from his command. Zurgat came hurrying in from the rear courtyard.
‘Mightinezz, Razconza and hiz vermin are gone! The rear wall haz collapzed, but nobeazt iz out there!’
Ublaz breathed a silent sigh of relief, then began berating the Monitors who kept trying to edge away from the stairs. ‘You see, the wavescum probably perished in the flames trying to scale the rear wall. When we have cleared out those intruders from my throne room, the palace will once again be mine. Zurgat, you will head the charge upstairs – leave none alive. Now go!’
Zurgat saluted with her long spear and, bulling through the ranks of her subordinates, she mounted the stairs. ‘Follow me, we will zlay –’
A red- and a green-flighted arrow struck her simultaneously.
‘Ruddariiiiing! Holt Lutraaa aaa!’
The otter archers appeared around the stairwell, Grath slightly in front of Inbar, shielding her friend and the burden he carried. Both of them rained shafts of death at the Monitors.
Ublaz was turning to look for a safer place to command from, when he saw Martin and Clecky come thundering through the main doors. There were Monitors blocking his way to the rear door; dodging swiftly to a downward flight of stairs, he sped towards the cellars.
With his scimitar in one paw and a javelin in the other, Clecky pushed Martin towards the cellar stairs. ‘You get after him, I’ll help out here. I say, you chaps . . . Eulaliaaa aaaa!’
The perilous hare flung himself at the back ranks of Monitors, flailing his weapons like a windmill in a gale. Attacked at front and rear the lizards fought back savagely. Regardless of wounds, Clecky battled valiantly forward, through spears, teeth and claws, striving to cut a path to his friends on the staircase. A spear tore his ear, and he vanquished its owner with a curving downward stroke of the scimitar.
‘Fall back, the foebeast! Cleckstarr Lepus Montisle to the fray! A Montisle am I, ’tis death to stand before me! Particularly in line for dinner, wot! Forward the whites!’
Snatching a lighted walltorch from its bracket, Martin bounded down the cellar stairs. He raced along a short corridor and on to another downward flight of steps. The Warriormouse paused at the bottom and held up his torch. He was in an oblong chamber with a door at its far end. Martin could tell the door was ajar by the shaft of light that streamed out into the chamber. Taking a firm grip on his swordhilt, he moved cautiously up to the door and swung it open slowly. It revealed the eeriest sight he had ever witnessed.
Wearing a crown upon his head, the mad-eyed Emperor was crouching in front of a snake. He was murmuring a singsong chant as both he and the reptile swayed from side to side, their eyes locked in a frenzied stare. The small room shimmered in the golden torchlight. Everything was bathed in a radiance of gold, from the crown and the coils of the reptile, to the walls which swam in weaving patterns, cast by a large stone tank of water at the back of the room. Martin watched in fascination as the snake’s eyes filmed over and its head stopped moving, the serpentine body lost its threatening stiffness and it subsided to the floor. Ublaz touched the poisonous reptile’s head, stroking it softly as he spoke without turning to look at his pursuer.
‘A coral snake is the most deadly killer in the seas. See how my power can render it harmless. Nobeast alive can perform such magic; only I, Ublaz, Emperor of Sampetra, Ruler of all Monitors and wavescum. They call me Mad Eyes, but never to my face. What do they call you?’
Martin stared at Ublaz’s back draped in a flowing cloak of gold. ‘I am Martin, the Warrior of Redwall Abbey!’ he said.
‘Ah yes, I should have known. You have come to free your Abbot. Did you bring my six pearls, the Tears of all Oceans?’
The Warriormouse’s voice rang hard as the steel he held. ‘I brought only my sword!’
The Emperor’s voice took on a cajoling tone. ‘Swords are dangerous things to bargain with, Martin. Death is the only payment they exact. What if I told you that I am willing to let you and your friends walk free from here?’
‘I would say that you are lying and you would try to have us slain before we got to our ship.’
Whilst Martin spoke, Ublaz was slowly drawing the sabre from his waistsash. The movement was hidden by his flowing cloak. He tensed himself to spring as he continued talking. ‘I was not always an Emperor. Once I was a corsair, the most feared swordsbeast of the high seas. I ruled with my blade.’
Martin’s quick eye caught the shifting of the pine marten’s cloak. Silently he stepped sideways and took up the warrior’s stance. Ublaz made his move then, roaring as he whirled about and lunged with the sabre, ‘Mine is the last name you’ll hear. Ublaaaaaaaz!’
Clang! Clash!
Martin parried the thrust and brought his blade into play. Back and forth they dodged and skipped, slashing, riposting and countering, steel singing against steel to provide music for the dance of death. Warrior and Emperor, blade for blade, backing, weaving, their swordpoints seeking and questing, whirling in the flickering gold light. The pine marten rushed his opponent; gripping the sabre with both paws he battered the Warriormouse into a crouch. With a swift sweep of his sword, Martin sliced across his adversary’s footpaw, then, bringing the blade up in a flashing arc, he fenced Ublaz into a corner.
The Emperor bulled his way out, inflicting a gash in Martin’s side. They locked blades in the centre of the room, pushing sword hilt to sabre guard as each strove wildly to gain the upper paw. Panting and gasping, eye to eye, the combatants swayed, grasping for any hold their footpaws could find that might serve as a lever.
Then without warning Ublaz dropped his head to one side and bit savagely into the side of Martin’s neck. With a mighty roar of pain the Warrior lashed out; his paw, locked tight around the sword handle, punched Ublaz solidly in the eye.
The pine marten’s mouth fell open, coloured lights exploding on his vision as he staggered backward.
And trod upon the sleeping snake!
Faster than any eye could follow, the venomous reptile struck, burying its fangs in the leg of Ublaz.
Martin stood watching, his chest heaving as he sucked in air hungrily, a paw clamped to his wounded neck. Ublaz’s sabre clattered to the floor. He was swaying, his head drooping to one side, squinting as his vision blurred. He stared dazedly at the coral snake, as it slithered across the room in a golden fluid movement; back into its tank it slipped with hardly a ripple. The Emperor took a few unsteady backward paces until he reached the wall, then leaning against it he slid down into a sitting position.
Stretching forth his sword, Martin picked the crown from Ublaz’s head with his bladetip. The thick, garnet-studded circlet slid down the hilt; Martin looked down at Ublaz, who was staring back at him in disbelief, his lips moving.
‘Nobeast was mightier than me . . . Emperor . . . I was . . . Emp . . .’
Martin looped the crown onto his belt and squatted facing the dying pine marten. ‘So, yours wasn’t the last name I heard, but here’s the last name you’ll ever hear. I say it for a friend whose kin you had murdered for a half-dozen pearls.’
Martin brought his face closer to Ublaz and roared aloud, ‘Holt Lutraaaaaaa!’
54
CLECKY HAD SUCCEEDED in fighting his way through the ranks of Monitors to the stairway. He passed Grath his javelin and gave Inbar the short axe he had thrust into his sash. The two otters shouldered their bows, and Clecky and Grath placed themselves either side of Inbar, who still had the Abbot bundled upon his back.
Battling madly, they were halfway to the main entrance when Martin came charging from the cellar stairs to join them, shouting, ‘Mad Eyes is dead! I have slain Ublaz!’
There was an immediate lull in the fighting as the Monitors lowered their spears and stared dully at one another.
Martin got behind Inbar to protect
Plogg peered through the darkness at the huddle of creatures clattering along the jetty towards him. He drew his rapier, calling, ‘Who goes there?’
Clecky could not resist. ‘Just a one-eared hare, a wounded warrior, a sleepin’ Abbot and a couple o’ plank-tailed waterdogs. Yowch! I say, watch it!’
Grath smiled as she waggled the javelin tip. ‘Sorry, mate, I slipped.’
Plogg helped haul the Abbot aboard. He was still sleeping, wrapped snugly in the velvet wall hanging. The shrew glanced up towards the palace, saying, ‘There’s about a score o’ lizards millin’ round up there, looks as if they’re wonderin’ what t’do.’
Martin pulled Clecky over the stern rail then severed the ropelines holding Waveworm to the jetty. ‘We’re not waiting to find out what they’re going t’do. Make sail and let’s get away from this place!’
Viola and Welko dashed back and forth on the deck of Freebooter. With a pair of oars they had found the two of them were smacking every head or paw that showed over the rails. There was a moment’s respite. Quivering with fear and exhaustion the volemaid leaned wearily against the rail.
‘Oh dear! Oh goodness me! We can’t keep this up much longer. Good job they’ve given up for awhile. Yeeeek!’
Welko ran at her, swinging his oar. He brought it down, whooshing within a hairsbreadth of Viola, to crash upon the head of an evil-looking ferret gripping a cutlass between his gapped teeth.
‘Don’t turn yer back on the rail, miss, that’n near ’ad you,’ he said. He stared out into the flamelit darkness. The burning ships were beginning to hiss and sizzle as they sank lower into the shallows. Welko shook his head in despair at what he saw.
‘They’ve put some o’ that burnin’ timber out an’ they’re lashin’ t’gether a couple o’ rafts. We’re in real trouble if Martin an’ the others don’t show up soon!’
On the shoreline, Buckla touched the top of his head tenderly. ‘I’ll keel’aul that perishin’ volemaid for beltin’ me with that oar. Make those lashin’s tight, mates. Haharr, let’s see ’em try ter stop us this time. Gancho, are the rafts ready?’
Gancho locked off a vine rope with two half-turns and a double hitch. ‘Ready as they’ll ever be, bucko. Come on, we kin paddle with our paws, ’tis no more’n ten shiplengths out to Freebooter.’
Corsairs and searats piled aboard the two rafts until they were low in the water. Baltur licked the edge of his cutlass meaningfully. ‘Yaharr, keep the shrew alive, I wanna liddle fun with ’im afore the fishes get wot’s left!’
The vermin on the rafts’ edges began paddling with anything available: paws, spear blades and scraps of driftwood. Both rafts were making fair progress until about halfway. Suddenly the nightdarkened waters exploded beneath them.
‘Nuggoramaaa harrawoooom gurroochorrr! Harm not our friends. Go from here.’
The great bull seal Hawm and a pack of adult male and female seals had smashed the rafts to matchwood in seconds. Huge wet tails and strong flippers made loud thwacking noises as they rendered each vermin senseless with a single smack. Searats and corsairs flew out of the water and through the air to hit the sand, as the powerful mammals flung them ashore with mighty flicks of their sleek heads. Welko and Viola leaned over the rail of Freebooter laughing gleefully at the sight.
‘Ooh! King Hawm gave that searat such a crack, did you see him?’
‘Aye, lookit that ferret, ’e did a somersault in the air afore ’e landed onshore. Go on, mates, give it to ’em!’
‘Oh yes, please, belt that slimy stoat good an’ hard for me!’
King Hawm swam up to the side of the ship, then, clapping a flipper against his broad chest, he smiled and bowed.
Welko and Viola clapped their paws together joyfully, calling aloud, ‘Haaaaaawm! Haaaaaaaa wm!’
The king pointed his flipper at Waveworm rounding the cove. ‘Ma’tan! Ma’tan!’
Dawn found a happy party taking breakfast on the foredeck of Freebooter. Grath patted the rail, saying, ‘Y’did well t’save this ’un, mate, she’s a beauty. Martin, wot about ole Waveworm there?’
Wordlessly Martin thrust a torch into the breakfast fire. He leapt the gap between both ships, landed neatly on Waveworm’s deck and drew his sword. The searat Gowja screamed in terror as the blade whizzed past his head, severing the chain that tethered him to the mainmast. Martin hauled him to the side and booted him overboard.
‘I give you your life,’ he said. ‘Swim for the shore, rat!’
The Warriormouse set fire to the sails before pitching the torch into the hold. Leaping back aboard Freebooter, he severed the ropes holding Waveworm to its side. A loud wail of despair arose from the vermin nursing their injuries on the beach. Grath reached for her bow, but Martin stopped her.
‘Let them be, friend. They are marooned here for life, with no ships, no wood or trees growing. They could not even build a toy boat.’
Viola was sitting next to the Abbot. He was awake now, sipping hot soup, still wrapped in the velvet wall hanging. The volemaid wiped Durral’s chin with the tattered hem of her apron.
‘They’ve got better than they deserve,’ she said. ‘Fruit, fish and running water. Let them learn to farm the earth, like we do at Redwall. I’d say they were lucky to be alive, wouldn’t you, Father?’
Durral sat up straight and smiled at Viola. ‘I’d say we were lucky to be alive, young ’un!’
Clecky sniffed, helping himself to a fourth bowl of soup. ‘Indeed? Well, I’d say it’s jolly lucky for all here present with two ears! I lost one doin’ battle with the lizard thingees. I say, d’you suppose a chap’s ear’d grow again if he ate enough, wot?’
Viola checked the hare’s ear stump, shaking her head. ‘No, but if you like I could make you quite a nice ear with some of this red velvet backed with canvas. You’ve got enough ear left for it to fit over.’
Clecky snatched a chunk of shrewbread from under Plogg’s nose. ‘I say, what a spiffin’ wheeze, but that red velvet, it’d look a bit odd on parade, a chap with a red velvet ear, wot?’
Martin stifled a smile. ‘It’s not like you to be so picky, friend. How about if Viola makes it like a decoration, a sort of bravery badge?’
Clecky’s single ear stood straight up next to the wad of bandage wound round his stump.
‘Top hole! I could dine out on somethin’ like that for seasons t’come, wot!’ He imitated a female hare’s voice. ‘Oh, mister Montisle, I do like your ear, so picturesque! . . . Ahem, thank ye, marm, ’tis an old war wound. Pass me the salad and I’ll tell you how I jolly well came about it. There was I, surrounded by five hundred monstrous reptiles, armed only with a good breakfast under me belt . . .’
The crew of Freebooter dissolved into laughter.
‘Haaaaaawm Ma’tan, feryooday!’
They looked up to see the seal king waddle aboard. He turned to Inbar and held a lengthy conversation, then stood by, head held high and both eyes closed, nobly, as befits a real seal king.
Inbar explained what he had said. ‘The king said it is not the way of friends to desert each other, so he decided to return and help out. He is pleased your Abbot is safe and well, and he and his sealfolk would be honoured to tow your ship to Ruddaring.’
Martin shrugged, slightly puzzled. ‘But we are going to Redwall.’
Grath twanged her bowstring and shuffled her tail awkwardly. ‘Er, Inbar’s only told the king so far, but, er, y’see, me’n’Inbar, we’re goin’ back to Ruddaring t’live there. Sorry fer not lettin’ y’know sooner, Martin.’
The Warriormouse seized both otters’ paws in delight. ‘This is the most excellent news! May your seasons be long together with all the happiness that fortune sends you both!’
Congratulations were given all round to Grath and Inbar. In his strange seal language, the Hawm barked out the good news to his sealfolk, who somersaulted in the water, flapping and clapping their flippers in celebration.
Inbar passed on Martin’s information, conversing awhile with the Hawm before turning back to the Warriormouse, who was holding a short conference with the Abbot.
‘Martin,’ Inbar said, ‘our friend the Hawm says that he will be honoured to conduct your ship to within sight of Mossflower country when you leave Ruddaring. He knows secret routes and fast currents that can have you back home in half the time it would take any landbeast to navigate that distance.’
Hawm bowed regally, slapping the deck hard with an enormous flipper and gesturing at the seas in a wide arc, to confirm the truth of Inbar’s words. Martin and the Abbot approached him, Inbar translating Martin’s words as he proclaimed: ‘Haaaaawm! Truly you are king of all sealfolk! Please accept this gift from the Father Abbot of Redwall Abbey.’
Unlooping the crown of Ublaz from his belt, Martin passed it to Durral, who with quiet dignity placed it upon the Hawm’s head. The king clambered up onto the forepeak wearing the heavy gold ring that had once graced the head of the tyrannical Ublaz. There was a moment’s silence, then the crew joined voices with the sealfolk massed about the ship.
‘Haaaaaaawm! Manyahooday, Haaaaaaaaaawm!’
Wearing his new crown like a true king, Hawm did a sleek dive from forepeak to sea. He vanished beneath the waves, to emerge in a rush of water balancing the crown upon his nose, much to the amusement of everybeast present.
Lines were thrown out amidships and for’ard. Then, with a single slash of his sword, Martin severed the anchor cable as Clecky stood by shouting, ‘I rename this vessel Seaking, may her cookin’ fires be always lit an’ the whole jolly crew well fed! Set a course for Ruddaring an’ then head down for home, me beauties!’
Plogg and Welko had found an old attack drum in the hold. They beat on it with ladles and broke out into a Guosim voyaging song.