The Rogue Crew

Scutram put on a similar act in agreement. “D’ye know, sah, I think we’re all ready for a jolly good old nap. Must be with trampin’ through the sand all day, then tuckin’ in to all that scrumptious fodder, wot!”

Dukwina gestured magnanimously. “Why not sleep right here? It’s warm and the floor mats are easy enough to lie upon. I’ll have some rugs brought for you all. Dibby, you and Vigbil get some rugs for our guests. Come on, stir yourselves. Can’t you see they’re tired?” The little empraking and his aide hurried to obey their overbearing queen.

The two pygmy shrews were covering the supposedly sleeping hares over with soft rugs when Wilbee whispered to the sergeant, “I say, Sarge, I think big Drander must’ve drunk that bloomin’ stuff. He’s snorin’ away like a flippin’ hog!”

Miggory muttered sternly as he peeked over at Drander. “The great wallopin’ lump’ead. I’ll deal with him later. Keep yore ’ead down, Master Wilbee, an’ be quiet!”

The empraking knelt alongside Captain Rake, making a pretence of tucking him in as he spoke quietly. “As soon as the queen thinks you rabbets are unconscious, she’ll have your maids moved out of here.”

Rake Nightfur spoke out the side of his mouth. “Where’ll she take the lassies?”

Empraking Dibby moved close to Rake’s ear. “Outside, to the left, it looks like an ordinary dune, but it’s been built like this place. It’s got a secret entrance which only Dukwina an’ her cronies know about.”

Corporal Welkin had sharp ears. He had caught all the conversation, so he joined in. “Beg pardon, ole Majesty, but how’ll she explain their disappearance, wot?”

Empraking Dibby fussed with the rug as he replied. “She doesn’t need to. Once they’re hidden away, she’ll just come back in here an’ sleep where she is now. She’ll act as surprised as you when you see the maids are gone. I know her well. She’ll say that they’ve probably gone on alone, an’ the best course is for you to follow them. I must go now, before she gets suspicious. Good luck, Captain.”

After some moments had passed, Captain Rake felt a footpaw nudge him a few times. He lay inert, not moving a muscle. One of Dukwina’s courtiers called out, “If they’re all flat out like this one, Majesty, then there’s no need to bother with any of these rabbets.”

The queen and a group of her helpers bundled the three haremaids, Sage, Ferrul and Buff Redspore, in rugs, rolling them up and dragging them off.

Through half-closed eyes, Miggory watched until they left the dwelling. “They’re gone, sah. Wot’s the next move?”

The tall, black-furred captain outlined a swift plan.

Young Trug Bawdsley, who was lying at the back of the others, hissed a warning. “Silence, chaps—be still now. They’re comin’ back!”

Dukwina strode in with her attendants in tow. She noticed the empraking and some other males settling down. “An’ what, pray, are you idle beasts up to?”

Her husband answered meekly, “Just goin’ to sleep, Dukky darling.”

She bustled over to him, paw jabbing the air. “Never mind Dukky darling. Have you cleaned all the dishes an’ pots an’ tidied up? No, you haven’t! Don’t you, or any of your idle good-for-nothing friends, even think of sleep until all the chores are done!”

The empraking and his little following scuttled off quickly.

Dukwina chuckled grimly as she and her ladies settled close to the ovens, wrapped in their rugs. “Keep them on their paws an’ give them lots to do. Empraking, indeed! All Dibby an’ his friends are good for is fetching, carrying, mopping an’ dusting. Make them know their place, that’s what I say!”

In the warmth and comfort of the dwelling, it would have been easy to relax and sleep. However, apart from big Drander, who was snoring gently, the hares of the Long Patrol lay awake, listening and watching Queen Dukwina and her retinue of pygmy shrews and sand lizards intently.

After what seemed a long while, Captain Rake moved into a crouch, issuing whispered orders. “They’ve all gone off tae sleep now. Flutchers, go an’ keep that wee stoat quiet. Sergeant Miggory, collect up all the rugs. Scutram, Welkin, watch our backs. The rest o’ ye follow me, wi’ nae clankin’ o’ weapons, ye ken!”

Drawing both his claymores, the dark-furred captain crept like a night shadow toward the queen and her companions.

12

Earlier that day, whilst Captain Rake and his column were inside the Pygmy shrew dwelling being entertained, the storm broke out over the sea. Heralded by dull thunder and some forked lightning flashes, the purple-grey cloudbanks released a veritable deluge of rainwater. With winds prevailing westerly, the face of the deep became a scene of chaos. Foam-crested waves were lashed into a fury of mountains and troughs, battered by the incessant downpour.

Without sail, rudder or any means of propulsion other than branches broken from the pine trunk, the escapers were in real trouble.