The Rogue Crew

Drogbuk stamped his paw down hard; there was a rattle of falling spikes. He turned on the young sea otter fiercely. “Who are yew callin’ an ole idjit, eh? Lissen, fuzzface, ye’ll be old yoreself one day. Hah, I ’opes they cut yew loose then, widout a crust or a drop t’drink, so there! Besides, you ain’t so smart, the lot of ye, or haven’t ye noticed anythin’ amiss?”

Buff Redspore looked up from a beaker of pennycloud cordial. “Not really, sah. Er . . . can you see anythin’ amiss, wot?”

Drogbuk employed a grimy claw to root amidst his tooth stubs. “While ye’ve been so busy feedin’ yore faces an’ tellin’ me wot an ole fool I am, yore foxes ’ave escaped.”

Captain Rake dashed toward the deserted tree trunks. “Why didn’t ye say somethin’, auld un?”

Drogbuk inspected his claw before wiping it, commenting, “’Cos ye never asked me. Besides, I’ve only just noticed it.”

Sure enough, Ketral Vane and his six foxes had vanished, leaving behind their long black and green capes amidst a lot of severed bonds. Big Drander stared in disgust at Endar Feyblade, one of Skor’s crew.

“I say, weren’t you supposed t’be watchin’ ’em?”

Ruggan confronted the big young hare. “No, I thought that was yore famous Long Patrol’s job!”

The ottermaid Kite turned sternly on Log a Log Dandy. “We just saved you lot. The least ye could’ve done was to keep an eye on them foxes!”

Captain Rake had to shout to be heard over the squabbles which erupted. “Och, will ye no hauld yer whisht! We’re no’ gettin’ anywhere yammerin’ on like a lot of auld ninnies. Silence, Ah say! Those foxes slipped away like smoke. They’re vermin, aye, but braw, canny beasts. So what d’we do now? Ah’m lookin’ for sensible ideas, ye ken!”

“We runs fer our lives afore they come back in force!”

It was Drogbuk who had spoken.

Skor Axehound brandished his battleaxe, towering over the old hedgehog. “Not whilst I’m Warchief o’ the Rogue Crew. We don’t run from anybeast!”

Drogbuk sucked on a roasted acorn and chuckled. “Brave words, wavedog. I’m goin’ t’run fer it. You can stay’ere an’ face a load o’ toads armed with blowpipes an’ poisoned darts. That Ketral comman’s some snakes, too. Ye can always take a chance whether they’re poison or not. Shouldn’t be much trouble to fightin’ beasts like yew lot.”

Sergeant Miggory squatted down in front of Drogbuk. “We gets yore point, h’old feller. None of us ’ave been ’ere afore, so we wouldn’t know where t’run. Where would you’ead for, mate?”

Drogbuk tapped the side of his snout and winked. “I knows one place they stays well away from. D’ye want me to take ye there?”

Lieutenant Scutram held forth a paw, helping the old one up. “Lead on, dear chap, lead on. We’re with you!”

They all moved off, with Drogbuk in the lead, assisted by Uggo and Posy lest he stumble. He took them on a twisting route through the big trees, fern beds and yielding loam. The atmosphere became distinctly gloomier.

Young Flutchers cast a worried glance at their surroundings. “I say, can’t get much bloomin’ murkier, can it? There’s not even that sort o’ green light about anymore, wot.”

Corporal Welkin tweaked Flutchers’s ears to silence him. “That’ll be because it’s nighttime, laddie buck. Now no more talking—mum’s the word, wot!”

Flutchers was about to ask why when he heard Dandy the Guosim Chieftain murmuring to Ruggan. “They’re on to us. We’re bein’ followed, listen to that.”

A high-pitched yipping could be heard from some distance.

Sergeant Miggory identified it. “Fox call, h’if I h’aint mistaken. Comin’ from h’off t’the left. There’s a couple more fox cries, one t’the right an’ two t’the rear of us someplace. D’ye ’ear ’em, sah?”

Captain Rake nodded. “Aye, Ah can that, Sarn’t. Sounds tae me like they’re tryin’ tae trap us in a pincer movement. We’ll have tae march double quick an’ stay quiet.”

Skor caught up with Drogbuk in the lead. “Ahoy, old un, where’s this place yore takin’ us to, an’ how far away is it?”

Accompanied by Uggo and Posy, the ancient hog was limping. “Can’t be too far off now. Hear that runnin’ water? It’s over that way. Me ole footpaws aren’t workin’ right. I’m slowin’ down, but there ain’t much I can do about it.”

The sea otter Chieftain summoned four burly Rogue Crew members. Lashing two shields to spear poles, they made a portable chair. Skor gave his orders.

“Carry this ole beast, an’ go whichever way he tells ye.”

As the sounds of running water drew closer, so did the fox calls. Captain Rake found the water source first. It was a medium-sized stream with steep banks.

Drogbuk pointed ahead. “Keep goin’ this way ’til ye see the hill with a tunnel goin’ into it. That’s the place we want.”

Lancejack Sage was heard to remark, “Well, we’d better find it jolly soon, chaps. Sounds like those bloomin’ foebeasts are right on our tails, wot!”

Skor issued a command to his best archers. “Fall back t’the rear o’ the column an’ pick off any enemy ye can spy. Nothin’ like a good ash shaft to discourage pursuers.”

Wilbee whispered to Kite Slayer, “He’s enjoyin’ this, ain’t he?”