Most of the prisoners were sleeping in the high mountain cell. Torleep and Sailears were on duty rota, standing by the window, listening to see if they could hear any news from the chamber below them. Torleep leaned on the sill and rubbed his red-rimmed eyes.
"These two new brutes, Ripfang an' Doomthingy, not much at gossipin', are they? Snore snore all night, that's all they've blinkin' well done. I say, marm, what's the matter?"
Sailears was facing the window. She tried to keep her voice calm as she explained the situation. "Don't move, Tor, stay completely still, eyes front. Don't turn 'round whatever y'do. There's a whackin' great bird of some sort perched on the window ledge. Bloomin' creature could take your head off with a single swipe of his beak from where he is. Don't move! Let me deal with this, wot."
She put on her most winning smile and spoke softly out of the window. "Dearie me, you are a fine big feller, ain't you? What brings you up here on a night like this, friend?"
For answer, Rulango lifted his leg. Sailears was taken aback. "Well, biff me sideways, he's brought us a rope!"
Torleep turned slowly and found himself staring into the heron's fierce eyes. He moved closer and waited a moment. "Well, he ain't taken m'head off, so he must be a friend come to help us. Am I right, sah?"
Rulango nodded twice, shaking the rope-draped leg. Under the bird's watchful eye, Sailears unfastened the line and began knotting it to an iron ring set in the wall.
"Take it from me, my fine feathered friend, if I were twenty seasons younger I still wouldn't live long enough to thank ye for the favor you've done us, wot!"
Torleep was wakening the sleepers. "C'mon, chaps, up on y'paws, we're bein' rescued. Woebee marm, I'd be obliged if you keep the old voice down, wot!"
Rulango flapped off into the greying dawn. Sailears had half of her body out of the windowspace when she looked down. "Well, I'm blowed! Guess what? There's somebeast, a hare I think, tryin' to climb up the bally rope. Look at this, Torleep!"
Torleep squinted down through his monocle. "By the left, you're right, marm, looks like a hare. Hey there, you chaps, lend a paw to haul the feller up here!"
When Stiffener was eventually hoisted into the cell and they recognized their old companion, there was profuse hugging, kissing and paw shaking. The boxing hare put a paw to his lips, urging them not to make too much noise. "Coil the rest o' that rope in afore anybeast sees it, mates."
Doomeye lay back on a straw pallet, facing the long rectangular window of the chamber below the hares' cell. Half asleep, he rubbed his eyes.
"Ripfang, you awake, brother? Was that a rope I saw goin' up in the air just then?"
Ripfang sat up and yawned.
"Aye, 'twas prob'ly Groddil an' Fraul escaped. Tryin' to catch a passin' cloud, the fools was. Hawhawhaw!"
Doomeye probed at one eye, blinking furiously. "Musta been an eyelid dropped down over me eye. That blue dye plays 'avoc with my eyesight. Thought it was a rope!"
Ripfang was now up and about. "Y'never know, it mighta been. Let's go an' check on them longears they got locked upstairs."
But the two rats never got that far. On emerging from the chamber they were faced with the sinister form of Ungatt Trunn's Grand Fragorl.
"His Mightiness would have words with you. Follow me."
The wildcat looked as if he had passed a sleepless night. He sat in front of a blue-smoking brazier, draped in a silken blanket. Ripfang and Doomeye stood stiffly at attention, both thinking that he knew about the wanton slaying of Mirefleck. Trunn surveyed his two new captains from the corner of a red-rimmed eye.
"You two were searatsyou must have sailed many places and seen lots of strange things, eh?"
Ripfang, being the more eloquent, spoke for them both. '"Tis so, Mighty One. Why d'yer ask?" He quailed as the frightening eyes turned to meet his.
"Never answer a question with a question when speaking to Ungatt Trunn; that way you may see the next sunset. In all your travels, have you ever met a badger, a big beast who carries a double-hilted sword on his back? Think now, did you ever encounter such a creature?"
"No, Yer Mightiness, we never met such a beast, sire."
The wildcat dismissed them with a wave of his tail. "Leave me now. Go about your duties."
On their way down to the dining hall, Doomeye chuckled with relief. "Heehee, I thought 'e'd found out about Mirefleck."
"Shuttup, oaf. 'E will if'n yew keep shoutin' it 'round. Funny, though, 'im askin' about a badger like that?"
"Aye. I've never even seen a badger, 'ave yew?"
"Not real like, but sometimes I gets 'orrible dreams about one, a big 'un, like Trunn said, but not carryin' a sword like the badger 'e wants t'know about."
"Is that right? I never knew you dreamed about a badger, Ripfang. Er, 'ow d'you know wot a badger looks like if'n you ain't ever seen one?"
"I never said I ain't heard of one! Look, will you shuttup about badgers? I don't like badgers, an' I can't 'elp it if I dream about one, can I? Let's go an' get some brekkist. I'm starvin'."
But breakfast was disappointing. Doomeye prodded with his dagger at the tiny portion of mackerel on a dock leaf and wrinkled his nose, sniffing at it suspiciously.
"One stingy liddle cob o' fishgoin' bad, too, I think. Is this all the vittles we gets? I thought we signed on fer better grub than rotten fish. 'Ey yew, c'mere!"
The Blue Horderat cook saluted. "Anythink I kin do fer ye, cap'n?"
"Cap'n? Oh, aye. Wot's wrong wid the vittles 'round 'ere?"
"That's all there is, cap'n. Wish 'Is Mightiness'd get that fox of his to magic up some more provisions."
Ripfang puffed out his narrow chest. He felt it was beneath him to bandy words with a mere low-ranking skivvy. "Right, well. Anythin' else to report?"
"Aye, two outside guards deserted, cap'n," the cook informed him with an insolent grin. "There'll no doubt be a few more if'n the grubstakes don't improve."
Ripfang had taken a dislike to the cook, so he prodded him several times on the end of his bulbous nose. "Bad fortune to 'em if'n they dowe'll fetch 'em back an' use 'em t'bait up the fish 'ooks. Now stop yer gossipin' an' git back t'work. Oh, those two who've gone missin'. Bring us their pieces o' fishthat's an order!" He nudged his brother and winked broadly at him. "One o' the joys of bein' a cap'n, eh!"
Outside the weather was beginning to clear. Mist rose from the damp rocks and a warm breeze started to sweep the clouds away. Summer had begun. It was to be a most memorable season for all.
Most memorable!
Chapter 23
The storm had not penetrated inland; it was driven upcoast and out to sea. Dotti sat on the streambank, breakfasting on fresh fruit salad with her friends. The haremaid was now under instruction as a contender for King Bucko Bigbones's crown.
Grenn read out the rules which had been delivered by the king's seconds. "Two days from now, the three events will commence: the Bragging, the Feasting and the Fighting. The Bragging will take place on the eve of day one. Whichever beast wins the Brag will be the creature voted by common consent of the crowd to have outbragged the other. Dawn of day two the Feasting will commence; the victor will be the one left sitting, still eating, at sunset, or until one creature yields to the other. Noon of day three is the Fighting. No weapons or any arms whatsoever are allowed to be taken into the ring. All supporters and seconds must have vacated the ring by the time the crown is dropped. The king has the right to decide whether the contest be from scratch, or moving freely. The moment one beast cannot rise and continue fighting, the other will be declared the winner. Note: in the event of Bragging or Feasting being won, lost, or declared a tie, the winner of the Fighting will be declared outright king. These are the approved rules!"
Fleetscut laughed scathingly. "Bucko's rules made by himself, eh? He's only got to win the jolly old Fighting an' he's home'n'dry, wot?"
"That's right, ole feller. King Bucko makes the rules in his own courtyou've got t'be better'n him to change 'em!"