The Rogue Crew

“Now, don’t ye think of takin’ no after-vittle naps. Douse those fires, mates. All aboard the boats, quick as y’like. I wants t’be on the Moss afore midnight!” As Log a Log, Dandy Clogs brooked no arguments. Shortly thereafter, the logboats were on their way along the stream as twilight turned to dusk.

Posy dozed in the stern of the back boat, but she was aware of the little flotilla entering the main river. The boats eddied in the swirl of changing currents and gurgling waters. Downstream changed to upriver. The paddlers dug deep, though the river was not running at any great speed. They had been travelling awhile when Dandy called out orders.

“String ’em together across the river. Rawkin, Swiffo, moor the lead an’ rear craft to those elms. Finished with paddles, mates. Make the most of yore shut-eye—there’s another hard day t’come in the morn!”

Roped together and secured to an elm trunk on either bank, the logboats bobbed gently on the darkened river. Within moments, all that could be heard above the waterflow ripple was the snuffling and snoring of exhausted creatures. Everybeast was so wearied that they gave no thought to guards or sentries. After all, what need of keeping watch in mid-river? They slept deeply, every last creature.

Greenshroud came out of the night like a giant predator. The river was wide enough for Razzid to order full sail; she caught the wind from the sea that she had enjoyed earlier that day. The current was gentle. Mowlag was taking a turn around the deck when he discerned the glimmer of a single lantern on the water. As the big vessel closed in over the darkened river, it became clear that several small boats were moored, stem to stern, across the water. It was but the work of a moment for Mowlag to rouse his captain and the vermin crew.

The Wearat felt a shudder of evil joy run through him. This was too good an opportunity to miss, defenceless sleeping creatures with no knowledge of what was about to happen.

Greenshroud struck the rope at its centre, the force ripping both ends from the elm trunks. This left the Guosim logboats trailing both sides of the big ship, being towed upriver. Bleary-eyed shrews, still half asleep, sat up in bewilderment as Razzid Wearat gave his signal for the slaughter to begin.

21

Though he had never been a great walker, Skor Axehound marched doggedly onward alongside Rake Nightfur at the head of the column. It had been a difficult trek; Rake could hear Skor breathing heavily. Accordingly he enquired, “D’ye no’ think ye need tae rest awhile, mah friend?”

The sea otter Chieftain replied gruffly, “I don’t need any rest. D’you?”

The hare Captain chuckled. “Och, no. Ah’m jist fine, thank ye!”

Skor replied stubbornly, “Well, I’m fine, too, an’ I can march just as good as you can, Nightfur!”

Knowing his friend was in a prickly mood, Rake changed the subject by casting a glance at the waning stars. “It’ll be dawn soon, Ah’m thinkin’. We’ll both rest then.”

He was about to say more when Sergeant Miggory called out, “Scouts returnin’, sah. May’aps now we’ll find ’ow far h’off this bloomin’ Moss River we h’are!”

Buff Redspore, with the sea otter trackers, Gil and Dreel, loped out of the half-light. Buff saluted.

“River’s through that pine grove an’ over a small rise, sah!”

Jum Gurdy nodded to Ruggan. “We’ll be there in no time now, matey.”

The fine golden mist of a new day touched the eastern treetops as they arrived on the broad banks of the Moss. Lieutenant Scutram inspected the scene. “No signs of comin’s or goin’s, I fear.”

Trug Bawdsley giggled under his breath. “Ships don’t often leave blinkin’ tracks, do they?”

Corporal Welkin Dabbs commented tersely, “When we want your opinion, young Bawdsley, we’ll jolly well ask for it, eh, wot!”

Jum Gurdy spoke his piece. “The young un’s right, though, Corp. We don’t know whether they’ve passed ’ere, though mayhaps they’ve not yet come this far upriver. Wot d’ye think, Skor?”

The burly sea otter leaned on his battleaxe before giving a verdict that everybeast was secretly glad to hear. “I think we should rest, camp an’ eat right here. No cookin’ fires, though. Then if’n they ain’t sailed by us, we’ll have to assume they’ve already passed an’ are someplace ahead upriver. Does that suit ye, Rake?”

The tall, dark captain unbuckled both his blades. “Aye, that suits me grand. Ah’m fair starved!”

Jum Gurdy murmured, “If I ever meets a hare who isn’t,’twill be a rare sight. . . .”

Rake overheard the remark. He stared at the otter Cellardog. “Ye were sayin’ . . . ?”

Jum replied neatly, “I was just sayin’, Cap’n, we ain’t had a bite to eat since last night!”

They breakfasted on a make-do assortment of bread, cheese, wild onions, some dried fruit and clear, sweet water from the river. The older creatures took a rest, sunning themselves on the bank. However, the two young sea otter trackers went straight into the water.