Bullflay winked at him, nodding toward Ranguvar. "See that, Fleabitt? Cap'n Vilu said this squirrel's a real tough 'un. We'll 'ave ter pay 'er some special attention, won't we?"
Fleabitt's narrow frame shook with unconcealed glee. "Special attention, right, chief. We'll learn 'er!"
Ranguvar's piercing stare raked the rat scornfully. "What could I learn from you, cocklebrain?"
Craaack!
Bullflay's whip struck her. Ranguvar transferred her dead stare to him without even blinking.
"Is that the best you can do, barrelbelly?"
Choking with rage, the burly weasel flogged away at his new oarslave, using all his strength. When he finished, his stomach was heaving in and out, and both his paws were shaking violently with the exertion.
"You . . . you dare talk ter Slavemaster Bullflay like that! I'll flay yer to dollrags!"
Ranguvar, who had ducked her head to protect her face, raised her eyes. There was death dancing in them as she growled at Bullflay, "You big useless lump o' mud, one day I'll kill yer with my bare paws, even if'n I have to bite through these chains to get at yer. Remember that, weasel!"
Bullflay could not bring himself to answer or raise his whip again. Ranguvar's eyes had frightened him. He strode off down the walkway, laying left and right with his whip at the other oarslaves.
"Silence there, quiet! An' be ready ter row when my drum starts to beat, if you want t'keep fur on yore backs!"
Two hours after daybreak next morning, a searat called down from his watch in the crow's nest, "Away to the north, a sail, cap'n, a sail!"
Vilu Daskar leaned out over the stern of the Goreleech, shading his eyes, peering hard at the faraway smudge.
"Sail? Are you sure? What kind of craft is she?"
"Too far off t'tell, cap'n sir, but 'tis a sail fer sure!"
Akkla kept the tiller steady, awaiting Vilu's order.
Striding the afterdeck, the pirate stoat stroked the yellowed bone handle of his scimitar pensively. "Hmm, a sail, eh? How far off are the Twin Islands, Akkla?"
"We could make 'em by tomorrow midday wid all sail an' full speed on the oars, cap'n."
His eyes still fixed on the far-off object, Vilu replied, "Too fast, we'd lose her. No ship can keep up with mine under full sail and oars. Take her to half sail and tell Bullflay to set the rowers a steady beat. We'll let her keep us in sight, and that way we'll land at Twin Islands tomorrow night. Set your tiller south and a point west."
The red ship sailed off on her new course, with the whips cracking on all three decks below. Oars rose and fell, pulling the Goreleech through the waves. The fresh captives groaned miserably as they bent their backs under the lash.
Chapter 26
Vurg snuggled deeper in his hammock. Morning sunlight streamed through the cabin window, and he tried to ignore it, closing both eyes tight, but he could not close his ears to the raucous duet which the cook and his assistant were yelling from the galley. Other crewmice were already awake, hurling objects at the galley door, haranguing the singers within.
"You'll turn the grub sour wid that noise!"
"Aye, belt up, you two, stop that awful racket!"
"I thought somebeast was tryin' to squash a dozen frogs!"
But Beau and his assistant Cardo were in full cry and not about to give up for mere threats and insults.
"Ho wot d'you give to a saucy crew,
Stew! Stew! Stew!
Wot's better than a bowl o' stew?
Why a bowl o' stew or two!
We fries the varnish off the mast,
Then adds some ole rope ends,
An' the cap'n's boots all boiled up slow,
Good flavor to it lends.
So scoff it up 'tis good for you,
Stew! Stew! Stew!
Made with a drop o' lantern oil,
An' a barnacle or two,
Some fine sail threads an' fishes' heads,
Then roast the cook's ole socks,
An' add to that some o' the fat,
They use to grease the locks!
Ho stew, stew luvverly stew,
No skilly'n'duff or brown burr goo,
Just swallow the lumps that you can't chew,
An' fill a plate for yore worst mate,
Then sit an' watch him temptin' fate,
With face so green an' nose all blue,
Stew! Stew! Steeeeeeeeeeewwww!"
Luke was guiding the tiller, smiling as he listened to the crew voicing their doubts about breakfast.
"D'you think they really mean it, Cordle?"
"I don't know, mate. Mebbe they're just jokin'."
"But they wouldn't use lantern oil an' lock grease, would they, Vurg?"
Vurg winked at Luke as he answered Denno, who was prone to bouts of seasickness at the slightest thing. "Who knows, mate? Ole Beau's a great 'un for playin' pranks an' I remember that salty stew Cardo made when we first set sail. Wot d'you think, Luke?"
The Warrior was hard put to keep a straight face. "No, Vurg, I don't think Beau an' Cardo'd do that to our vittles, though I couldn't find my seaboots this mornin'."
The cook and his assistant staggered out of the galley, bearing between them a steaming cauldron. Denno's usually ruddy face took on an unhealthy pallor. "Urgh! I ain't eatin' none o' that stuff!"
Grinning wickedly, Beau dipped a beaker into the cauldron. "Wot? After all the blinkin' trouble we went to preparin' this delicious stew? Now see here, Denno m'laddo, I'm goin' to see you eat this, even if I have t'feed it t'you m'self. It'll put the jolly old roses back in your cheeks. Now open your mouth wide, old chap!"
"Yaaaah! I'm too young t'die!"
The crew of the Sayna shook with laughter as Beau chased Denno round the deck with the beaker of stew.
"Oh, c'mon, you great big silly, stan' still an' open wide!"
"Gerraway from me, you lop-eared poisoner! Help, somebeast stop 'im! Do somethin', you rotten lot!"
Beau pursued Denno from stem to stern, stew slopping from the beaker as he coaxed and cajoled. "Never grow up strong an' handsome like me if you don't eat all your blinkin' brekky up, wot wot?"
Denno scrambled up the mainmast for the crow's nest, with Beau scaling the rope ladder close behind him. When he reached the topmost point, Denno suddenly yelled, "Sail, I see a sail!"
Beau grabbed his footpaw, chortling. "No excuses now, laddie buck. I'll pour it down your ear if you don't hold still!"
Luke's sharp command caused the hare to release the crewmouse.
"Beau, let him be! Are you sure it's a sail, Denno?"
"Aye, Luke, I saw it a moment ago, but it's gone now!"
Beau let the beaker drop and clambered swiftly up alongside Denno, his keen eyes following the mouse's paw.
"Over there it was, south, mebbe a touch west!"
The hare concentrated his gaze upon the horizon for a while, then he climbed down to the deck and made his report to Luke.
"There was somethin' out there, but bad weather's risin' from the sou'westsea's gone quite choppy an' the clouds are lowerin'. Mayhap 'twas a shipcouldn't really tell."
Luke came to a decision speedily. "Vurg, steer her over that waysouth goin' west. Coll, Dulam, Cordle, pile on all sails. Beau, get the food to my cabin, an' the rest of you, make sure everythin' is battened down tight. Looks like we're in for a storm."
When the orders had been carried out, the crew gathered in Luke's cabin to share the meal. Contrary to Denno's belief, the stew was delicious. Beau was quite huffy that anybeast should think it otherwise.
"Phuff! Never cooked rubbish or wasted good food in all m'life, wot. Vegetable stew, sah, with lots of carrot, dandelion root, leeks, dried mushrooms, onions, taters an' my own special barley'n'oat dumplin's. Puts fur on the chest, a glint in the eye an' a splendid spring t'the paw. Stuff t'give the crew, eh, Luke?"
The Warrior cleaned his bowl with a chunk of bread. "It certainly is, mate. D'you think we should allow Denno a second helpin'?"