It was a splendid idea, but Willip found an obstacle. "I don't see any great long ropes hereabouts. You'll forgive my sayin', Brog, but the plan won't jolly well work without ropes."
Brogalaw was forced to agree with Willip. "Yore right, marm. Ahoy, Rulango's drawin' again!"
The Skipper of Sea Otters took one look at the sketch.
"Yer a crafty ole wingflapper, mate. Durvy, Kolam, Spraydog, come with me'n'Rulango. There's work t'be done!"
Chapter 22
Cloaked in lengths of old sailcloth, two Blue Horderats stood deck watch on the bows of one of Ungatt Trunn's vast flotilla of vessels, which were anchored in the bay facing Salamandastron. Both rats blinked rain from their eyes, staring miserably at the mountain.
"Bet they're all sittin' snug an' dry in there tonight, mate."
"Aye, quaff in' grog an' fillin' their bellies wid vittles."
"Nah, I wouldn't go s'far as to say that. Vittles is short an' grog's only fer Ungatt Trunn an' 'is cronies. I'll bet we gets stuck on 'alf rations in a day or so."
"Mebbe yore right, cully, but I wager they're all warm'n'dry an' sleepin' their fat 'eads off, snorin' like 'ogs."
"Huh, an' look at us beauties, stannin' out 'ere on deck watch in the storm, soakin', cold, 'ungry an' sleepy!"
"Whoa! Wot was that?"
"Wot? I didn't see nothin'. Wot was it?"
"Like some kinda big bird, swooped down aft there!"
"Never! I thinks you needs some shuteye. Y'see funny things when yore tired, or at least you thinks you sees 'em."
"But I did see it, I'm certain I did, down at the stern end!"
"Well, let's go down an' take a look. If 'tis there, a quick chop of me cutlass'll settle it. I'll take it down t'the galley an' we'll share it wid the cook."
Both rats staggered down the slippy deck, clinging to the rails, and climbed the stairs to the stern peak.
"Well, where is this big bird o' yours?"
"Er, it musta flew off, but I saw it!"
"Arr, yer talkin' through yore tail, mate. There wasn't no big bird 'ere. All the birds is long gone."
"Oh, they are, are they? Then tell me, where's that big thin heavin' line that was coiled up, right where yore stannin'?"
"I don't know, cleversnout, you tell me?"
"The big bird took it!"
"Why, 'cos it thought it was a giant worm? Don't talk rubbish, mate. The 'unger's gone to yore 'ead. That fox Groddil musta took it. He was 'ere t'day, lookin' fer ropes."
"No, I'd take me affidavit the rope was 'ere when we came on watch. I saw it!"
"Aye, just like y'saw the big bird. Lissen, mate, you keep on seein' big birds an' vanishin' ropes an' I'm not comin' on deck watch with you anymore!"
Rulango dropped the last rope to Brog and his otters, who were waiting in the sea. Silently they coiled nine strong, thin heaving lines about them and swam off shoreward, swift and sleek.
Durvy caused great merriment back at the cave as he related what he had heard, imitating the vermin voices expertly, while Brog knotted the heaving lines into one massively long rope. Purlow watched the long coils building up into a great thick cylinder.
"Great seasons, nobeast'd be able to lift that whackin' huge thing. How do we move it to the mountain?"
Brogalaw had thought it all out carefully. "Nine of us forms a line, each one carryin' only a single rope's length. When we reaches yore mountain, Rulango takes the end an' flies up t'the window an' passes it to 'em. No fancy twiddles, mate, a plain'n'simple plan. But not to worry. Me an' my crew will do ityou rest 'ere."
Stiffener had a word to say about that. "Sorry, Brog, but I'm comin' with you, mate. 'Tis my sworn duty. I wouldn't feel right, lyin' warm an' dry here while your otters were out facin' all the danger. I'm going!"
The otter Skipper shook his paw warmly. "Twill be a pleasure to 'ave ye along, Stiff mate. Now there's no time to lose while 'tis night an' bad weather. If we puts a move on, there's a chance we could get yore messmates down from the mountain afore daylight. Hearken, crew, we got a hard'n'fast night's work. Let's be about it!"
Though he was an old hare, Stiffener's seasons of exercise routines had kept him fit, and he bore his section of the rope as well as any sea otter. Brogalaw dog-trotted along in the lead, staying to the clifftops, which were easier to travel than the deep sands of the dunes. All nine creatures wore hooded cloaks of soft green-dyed barkcloth. Spume was whipped from the high-crested waves by the rain-sheeting wind, while dried-out seaweed flotsam from the tideline tumbled crazily about on the wet sand. The skies were moonless, strewn with banks of dark scudding cloud. Ahead of the column, Rulango winged low over the stunted grass, striving to keep a straight course to the distant mountain. Brogalaw had spoken truly: it was a task which was proving to be both hard and fast.
They halted not far from Salamandastron's base. Brogalaw and Stiffener, accompanied by the heron, went ahead to scout out the lay of the land. The other seven sea otters sat down on the lee side of a hillock, still carrying the rope. They rested, but stayed alert, ready to go again at a moment's notice.
On reaching the sheer rock face, Brogalaw and his friends crouched in the shelter of a bushy spur.
"Ahoy, Stiff, yore familiar with this place," the sea otter whispered. "Be there any exits or entrances 'round 'ere, mate?"
The boxing hare blinked out into the rainwashed night. "Not 'round 'ere, Brog. Ssshh! Somebeast's comin'!"
On leaden limbs, a weasel sentry plodded by, keeping his head down against the weather, glancing neither left nor right. Brogalaw breathed a sigh of relief as the weasel was swallowed up by the night. "Ship me rudder, mates, that was close!"
However, he spoke too soon. The sentry coming in the opposite direction heard the otter as he marched by. Thrusting into the shadows with his spear, he called for assistance to the weasel who had just passed that way.
"Hoi, Skel, back 'ere, quick!"
Stiffener heard a note of uncertainty in the guard's voice as he shouted around the spur at them: "I knows yer in there. Come out now an' show yerselves. Skel, will you 'urry up? I got prisoners cornered 'ere!"
Stiffener came out at top speed, bounding and leaping. He caught the nervous guard unawares and floored him with a massive uppercut. Flinging aside his cloak, the hare grabbed the fallen guard's helmet, shield and spear. Clapping the helmet on, he held the shield high, masking his face, beckoning Brogalaw and Rulango to step out, as if he had captured them.
Rather slow and cautious, the weasel sentry appeared out of the darkness, and approached Stiffener warily. "Where'd ye find these two, Reggo?"
Stiffener pointed around the darkened spur with his spear. "In there!" he muttered gruffly.
The weasel edged forward and peered around. He saw his companion lying sprawled on the ground and turned quickly. "You ain't Regg Unh!"
Stiffener's oaken spear butt rapped him sharply between the eyes and he dropped without a sound. Brogalaw and Rulango dragged the two unconscious guards into the bushes.
The otter Skipper began looping the rope end around the heron's long bony leg. "We'll stay down 'ere an' pay the line out, mate. You fly up there an' give 'em your end, they'll know what t'do."
Stiffener glanced up at the sky. "Too late, Brog. 'Twill be dawn in an hour or so. The journey here took longer than we thought. My friends are oldthey wouldn't stan' a chance in broad daylight, out on the mountain face."
Brogalaw was reluctantly forced to agree. "You got a good point there, Stiff. So, what's the drill now?"
Stiffener made a quick decision. "Only one thing for it, friend. Let Rulango take the line up. When they makes it secure I'll shin up there an' tell 'em what's goin' on. I'll take me cloak an' stop with 'em. You an' the bird go back an' hide out with yore otters for the day. All of you come back 'ere at nightfall an' we'll do it then. 'Tis the only safe way."