Subject:  Gettin' near the end o' the story somewhat. |
Author:
Rigg
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Date Posted: 20:24:34 04/07/04 Wed
In reply to:
Log-a-log Rigg
's message, "**An old shrew sits by the fireside.**" on 13:19:01 03/28/04 Sun
The Winter of the Nasty Nipper
The icey, dangerous waters of winter caused Dodge to stay south and usually only a day's sailing away from shore so they could make raids here and there. From the time Didge had first come, his presence had changed the ship. The little stoat, once thin and raggledy, was now well filled out and full of energy. The mischeivious creature had armed himself with a sling, and he'd go about shooting seashells at the crew. Didge hung around Dodge alot, and often went perched on his shoulders, mimicking the captain as he gave orders. Despite being a menace, and quite against Dodge's instincts, the corsair weasel had taken a liking to Didge, though he tried desperately not to show it.
Dodge now stood in the bow, Didge perched on his shoulder, as the Briny Bruiser drew closer to shore, on its way to pick up fresh food and water. "Drop anchor mates, an' get them longboats ready. We'll bide 'ere!" Didge clambored onto the railing, looking out eagerly at the shore. A shudder passed through the ship as the anchor was dropped. It moved forward a second more, then halted abruptly, sending Dodge flying over the side. "Yaaah!" Didge looked down at him. "Heehee, it norra time ta go paddlin'!" Pinky appeared by Didge's side, a coil of rope over his shoulder. "Don't ye worry cap'n, I'll get ye out!"
Dodge tread water, grumbling angrily. "Every time! Why can't they learn t'do it gentle-like? Yow!" The heavey rope hit him between the ears. Dodge grabbed it and was hauled up, barking his shins and hitting his elbows against the side of the ship as he went. Dodge shook the water off his body, still grumbling as he stepped into a longboat and was lowered back into the water, Didge seated happily in front. Soon several longboats were skimming over the sea, into the shallows, where they were beached and pulled safely away from the waves.
Dodge seated himself on a sunwarmed sand dune; Didge did the same. "Now, get lookin' around, mates. A fruitful land like this'n ought t' have plenny o' beasts in it, wid plunder an' food. Go on, get!" Dodge closed his eyes and tried to catch a quick nap, but Didge clambored to the top of the dune. The little stoat loaded his sling with a seashell fragment and began aiming at anything that moved, mainly small seabirds and some insects. He was about to hop off the dune and start chasing a group of gulls, but something out at sea caught his eye. Didge stood on tip-paw, squinting out at it.
With a hop and a sliding tumble, Didge sent himself landing straight on top of Dodge. "'Ey! Y'liddle whelp, leave me be. I got stuff t'plan." Dodge closed his eyes again and started sleeping. Didge tried to shake him awake, pointing out the object in the ocean. "But dere a ship! It comin' diss away! Wakey h'up!" Though the stoatbabe shook, pinched, and even jumped on Dodge, the weasel continued snoring. Didge heaved a frustrated little sigh. Why did he have to do everything?
Didge cast about for seashells, carrying them in his pockets. Then he set off down the shore at a tangent; he would meet this ship by his little lonesome.
Nobeast who sailed the Briny Bruiser would've imagined Singe Arro arriving that very day, least of all Didge. But indeed it was Singe, standing confidently on deck, directing his own crew to shore. He had survived the storm, and went for one brutal day without food or water, the salty sea making it all worse. Then he landed on an island, where there were quite a few marooned and shipwrecked corsairs. It was Singe who organized them, and one day captured a ship that had come for fresh water. Then he found himself proud captain of his own ship, the Wily Waver. As a result of the beating his legs had taken, the stoat was now bowlegged, reminded every time he walked of how he hated Dodge. Knowing that the weasel had always preferred the warm waters of the south, Singe had set sail in that direction, hoping to someday meet up with his old foe and settle things once and for all.
He had good reason not to sail straight for the ship. It was most probably gaurded, and they'd be spotted right away. Singe was hoping to either capture anybeast on shore, or wait until nightfall and launch a surprise attack then. The stoat leaned on the rail, his eyes fixed on shore. "Head 'er into that there cove. Those sailors won't suspect a thing. Haharr, they'll be in fer a surprise! We'll slay the crew an' plunder their ship, an' arter that we'll 'old a big ole party t'celebrate." When the ship reached the cove, and the anchor cast, Singe had all but six of his crew pile into rowboats and paddle to the beach.
Didge met him in the shallows, waiting with loaded sling. The little creature bared his teeth and growled. "Arr, me Cap'n Didge, 'oo be you?" Singe jumped into the water and raised his eyebrows at Didge. "Where'd you come from?" Didge shook a paw, hoping to appear menacing. "I come fromma me ship, da Biny Booser! I a cap'n too. Um, otay, maybe second cap'n, but I is good at it." Singe finished dragging his boat onto the sand and sat to pour the water from his boots. "Huh, all well an' nice, whelp. You go on an' git back t'your mama, or whatever." Didge shrugged and started wandering away. "Otay, me go backa Dodge!"
Singe was up on his footpaws, one booted and one bare, immediately. "Ahoy, wait up there, liddle cully, what about Dodge?" Didge turned and looked at him suspiciously. "Uhh, he a first cap'n onna ship. He over dere now, takin' 'is nappy. I go find 'im now." Singe grabbed the little stoat's arm, restraining him. "'Old up liddle feller, where'd 'is crew go? Y'know, the sailorbeasts?" Didge pulled his paw away, annoyed. "Dey is lookin' onna beach, I fink." "You mean they're on the beach with Dodge?" "No! Dey is past da beach. Me is wiff Dodge!"
Singe grinned evilly and beckoned to some of his crew. "Aye, good work, liddle feller. Only you ain't wid Dodge now. You're wid me, Singe Arro. I'm, er, an' ole friend o' his. Why don't yew stay wid me, we'll find 'is crew, an' give 'im a liddle surprise?" Didge nodded and smiled. "Hokeypokey!" Singe made sure that Didge didn't stray from his sight as he and his crew ventured out among the dunes and scrub bushes, seeking the capture of the weasel's unsuspecting crew.
Dodge awoke at late noon with a start. He sat up and stretched, wondering were everybeast was. The crew should've arrived ages ago. The weasel scaled the sand doon and scanned the beach. There wasn't a sign of anybeast, not even Didge. An uneasy feeling began to well up inside him. Dodge skidded down the dune on the other side to find them. He didn't go, however, before he spotted somebeast running toward him. Pinky dashed to his side, breathing hard. "Cap'n! Whew, so glad to see you..." Dodge grabbed his friend's paw, asking, "What 'appened? Where'd they all go? The crew, Didge, all of 'em?"
Pinky sat on a stump to catch his breath. "Dodge, we scouted it all out, found a bunch o' voles'n'edgepigs, a bit west'n'south o' here. We was debatin' whether to get 'em or tell you first, but we was the ones attacked. A whole bunch o' pirates, cap'n, wid none other'n the ghost o' Singe Arro standin' with 'em. Didge was there too, tied up like. It was all I could do t'get out o' there on time. We'd best get back t'the ship, they'll probly go for that next." Dodge shook his head and frowned. "Singe's ghost? Arr, shoulda killed 'im proper when I 'ad the chance, mate! C'mon, let's get t'those longboats an' get back t'the ship."
Pinky stood up and was about to follow Dodge when a slingstone glanced off his hat, laying him low. "Owweeee!" Dodge turned to see a group of angry hedgehogs and voles bearing down on him. The weasel grabbed Pinky's paw and helped him up, but by that time they were surrounded. A heaveyset vole waved a curved sword at them menacingly and growled. "Alright vermin, take us t'your leader, or whatever, an' give us back our family, else we kill you here'n'now!" The others bobbed their heads, murmering agreement and brandishing weapons. Dodge's paw strayed to his belt, resting on the silver hilt of his dagger, but he restrained himself from unsheathing it. "Aye aye now, calm down. I'm Cap'n Dodge Spiketail, o' the Briny Bruiser. Er, what seems t'be the trouble?"
The vole narrowed his eyes and snorted. "Hah! Don't play stupid with me, you nogood beastnappers! A bunch of your lot attacked our homes, an' carried off our family'n'friends. So free them an' we'll let you go alive!" Pinky held up his furless paws and piped up. "Sure sorry t'hear it, but twas our lot got attacked too. I know, I was wid 'em. Some o' you saw me. Twas a beast called Singe Arro gone an' carried yore friends off, an' arf our crew too." Pinky looked at the doubtful faces around him and added. "Er, took a liddle one, youngish stoat, an' I'm sure all goodbeasts like yew wouldn't want 'im 'armed? I'm tellin' the truth 'ere, I swears it!" Dodge nodded and backed his friend up. "Aye, twas my liddle 'un taken." The weasel started when he realized what he had just said. His little one? Hmm, things were really getting bleak.
The vole relaxed the sword a bit, but he still watched the vermin intently, suspiciously. "Well then, you know who's the brute wot took our young'ns, or where 'e is?" Dodge shrugged. "I never saw 'em, but Pinky 'ere did." Pinky nodded. "Aye, it was a stoat called Singe Arro, though 'e was s'posed t'be dead seasons ago. I wouldn't know where's he gone. Dodge'n'me were gonna get back'n protect our ship when you alls came along."
The vole stuck the swordtip in the sand between his footpaws, staring at them. "We ain't goin' on your ship, if that's what you're thinkin'. We ain't stupid." Pinky turned and gazed out at the Briny Bruiser. "We have to defend the ship, an' get our crew back, an' I suppose you wants your nippers back." Dodge stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Arr, may'aps we kin work some'at out 'ere. Pinky, you'n'me take the ship, use it as bait t'draw Singe to it. We leaves these beasts 'ere to row the longboats. They'll be 'idin' in that rocky cove there, see. When Singe attacks us, theybeasts paddle out an' make a surprise attack."
The vole bit his lip and gazed out at where the ship was anchored. Finally, he seemed to make up his mind. Stuffing his weapon in his belt, the goodbeast nodded. "Aye, we goes with your plan then, but no tricks weasel, else you'll find this blade tucked 'tween your ribs. Best put a move on it now." Dodge sighed with releif, thankful to have earned the trust of the group. He and Pinky began dragging a longboat into the water. "Aye mate, no tricks, y'have me word on it." The weasel and the vole shook paws, and the plans commenced.
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