The Rogue Crew

Aboard the Greenshroud, all talk of mutiny was forgotten as searats and corsairs saw the long-awaited prize within sight.

Jiboree stood on the prow end, pointing his sword at the distant Abbey. “Haharr—there she is, buckoes, big an’ ’andsome as ye likes!”

He summoned Shekra. “Go an’ tell the cap’n we’ve arrived!”

The vixen tippawed into Razzid Wearat’s cabin, thinking he would still be sleeping. Much to the contrary, he was sitting in his chair, wide awake, facing the door, with his trident placed within easy reach. His piercing eye was fixed on Shekra.

“What do you want, fox?”

The Seer saluted by tugging an eartip. “Lord, good news. The Abbey of Redwall has been sighted!”

Razzid did not appear unduly excited. “Where is it, and how far away are we from it?”

Expecting a happier reply, the vixen answered lamely, “Straight ahead, Lord. We should be there by noon.”

Placing the trident across his lap, Razzid continued staring at Shekra. “When ye entered my cabin, I noticed ye crept in—don’t deny it. I was supposed to be found lyin’ asleep, eh?”

The vixen came up with a reasonable answer. “Well, sire, it is only just dawn, an’ captains are allowed to sleep as they wish. I thought ye’d still be restin’.”

The Wearat pointed at the deck. “Come here, stand closer to me.”

Shekra obeyed hesitantly as Razzid urged her forward.

“Closer. Come on, fox, a bit nearer. That’s it!”

The vixen stood trembling, not knowing what to expect next. She was so close that she could feel his breath on her muzzle. When he spoke softly, Razzid’s voice had a hoarse quality.

“Is there ought your captain should know?”

Her lips quivered. “N . . . no, sire, nothin’.”

Razzid wiped moisture from his bad eye slowly. “Good! You’re still my Seer, ain’t ye?”

Shekra nodded dumbly, aware of the single eye’s intense stare.

His next enquiry came as a surprise to her. “Then, tell me, why did I not sleep well?”

The vixen relaxed slightly. “Were your old wounds troublin’ ye?”

Razzid spoke but one word. “No.”

She allowed a pause before speaking again. “A dream disturbed your slumbers, then, Lord.”

Razzid sat back slightly. “Aye, a dream. What do ye know of a warrior who carries a flaming sword?”

Even though she was puzzled, Shekra was on more familiar territory. “This warrior, what manner of beast was he, Lord?”

His reply startled her.

“A mouse, I think.”

The vixen covered her surprise by nodding, gaining time. “Sire, I will have to consult my omens. What did the mouse look like?”

As she rummaged for materials in her satchel, Razzid snapped irately, “Idiot, he looked like a mouse, in armour.”

Having gained a scrap of information, Shekra cast pebbles, bones and shells. Her tone became foreboding. “The omens predict a sign of warning. Do ye fear that, sire?”

Razzid laughed scornfully. “I fear nobeast, least of all a mouse. Wot else do ye see? Tell me!”

The vixen gained confidence, resorting to flattery. “’Tis right ye fear nobeast, Great One. The creature has not been born that can defeat ye. Ignore this mouse, go forward and conquer the redstone fortress. Nought will stop ye—’tis your right to rule there!”

She awaited his reaction. The Wearat seemed buoyed up by the fact he was nearing his objective. Then his mood swung suddenly. He fixed her with a fearsome stare.

“Do ye speak truly, Seer? Well, do ye?”

Shekra adopted her mystic expression. “When did I ever lie? I always speak truly to ye, Lord.”

Razzid mused aloud. “I often wonder if yore a Seer or just a Soothsayer. So, ye say truly I have nought to fear.”

The vixen decided to add a cautionary word, covering herself against future events. “One thing, my Lord—beware the flames from the sword of your dream. Remember, it was fire that almost killed ye!”

The Wearat scowled darkly. “Aye, that’s somethin’ I won’t easily forget. I’ll bear these scars for life!” Razzid sat silent briefly, drumming his paw lightly on the trident haft, then startled Shekra by rising speedily, an unexpected smile on his face.

“Come on, friend, let’s go and take a look at the famous Redwall, eh!”

The vixen stood to one side respectfully, but Razzid held back, making an elaborate paw gesture. “No, no, you go first. From now on, I want all my crew to go first, d’ye know why?”

Shekra shook her head. “No, Lord.”

She flinched as Razzid tickled her back gently with the trident prongs, answering casually, “Because I trust only those who are in front of me.”

The crew were jubilant. They cheered their captain as he strode out on deck.

“Ye did it, Cap’n, ye did it!”

“Aye, there’s the easy life, dead ahead of us, an’ ’twas you wot brought us ’ere, Cap’n!”