“Don’t matter, mate. Sasheem’s who matters. That cat would remember us for sure. Get ’is claws into us and ’e’d disembowel us as slowly as possible, lookin’ into our eyes all the while. Not out o’ any misplaced sense o’ loss over ’is late unlamented captain but to satisfy ’is own sense o’ revenge. Made a fool of ’im, we did, and a cat like that don’t forget.”
“We’ll just have to deal with him as best we can. If our fuel holds out I think we can catch them in the zodiac.”
“Now wait a minim, mate. Wot about wot I just said about Sasheem, and that murderin’ lot? You know wot’ll ’appen to us if they get their paws on us?”
Jon-Tom hesitated. “All right. This is your decision to make, Mudge.” He nodded toward the dark water. “That’s your lady out there, not mine.”
The otter stared blankly back at him, then turned and stumbled over to the railing. “Weegee!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “You ’ear me, Weegee? Damn you for gettin’ me into this. Damn you from your whiskers to your bloody beautiful tail, an’ double-damn you for makin’ me fall in love with you!”
Jon-Tom put a comforting hand gently on the otter’s shoulder. “You really mean that, Mudge? Or is it just another term of convenience for you?”
“’Ow the ’ell should I know, mate? I ain’t never felt like this before. ’Ow the ’ell do you tell?”
Jon-Tom stared down into the otter’s eyes. “There’s one simple way. Is she worth dying for?”
“Dyin’ for.” The otter looked past him. The captain and officers remained discreetly behind on the bridge. It was lonely on deck now, lonely and quiet enough to hear the sound of the waves slapping against the catamaran’s hulls.
“I never thought a lady were worth gettin’ excited over, much less dyin’ for—but this one, Weegee. I dunno.”
“How do you feel, inside?”
“Angry. ’Urt, upset. ’Urt outside too, far as that goes. Shit. This is a ridiculous position to be in.”
“Another fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into, Stanley?”
“Wot? Wot’s that?”
“Forget it.” He waited another minute, then turned toward the nearest gangway. “I’m going back to sleep. It’s still a ways to Orangel and I’m flat worn out.”
A furry paw grabbed him by the belt. “Now ’old on a minim there, mate. You ain’t goin’ nowheres.”
“Oh?” Jon-Tom was glad he was facing the other way so that Mudge couldn’t see the grin spreading across his face. “We going someplace else then?”
“You bet your bald arse we are. We’re goin’ after me true luv, that’s where we’re goin’.”
Jon-Tom looked back and down. “‘True love’? Am I hearing these words from that mouth or am I imagining them?”
“We’re wastin’ time. With just the pair of us in a small open boat you’ll ’ave all the opportunities you want to snigger at me an’ make jokes.”
“What do you mean ‘the pair of us’?”
“You’re comin’ with me. Remember? Friends to the end, you watch my backside, I watch yours?”
“Let me see now.” Jon-Tom struck an exaggerated pose. “Am I listening to the same otter who’s always having a fit because he’s stuck tramping all over the place with me? Who can’t stop cursing his ill luck at being my companion on similar journeys? Who is constantly bemoaning the fact that fate has made me his friend?”
“There’s only one Mudge ’ereabouts, an’ it ’appens to be the selfsame one you’re foamin’ at the mouth about, only maybe just a titch changed. Even an otter can change, you know. Let’s not babble on about past disagreements. You owe me, this time. I’ve pulled your arse out o’ the fire often enough, an’ I’ve the singe marks to prove it. You really think this boat o’ yours will run out of fuel somewheres in the middle o’ the sea?”
All business now, Jon-Tom considered. “I don’t know. I wish I’d paid more attention to Clothahump’s hydrocarbon spells. I’d take a shot at it with the duar, but with this suar I’d probably just gum up the engine.”
“Then we’ll need us a sail. As for dealin’ with me luv’s abductors, I don’t need no magic. I’ll rely on me other old friend.” Fingers flipped the short sword into the air. It did a triple twist and he caught it neatly in one paw. “Sword and longbow and don’t sing me no lullabies, pater, because it ain’t firewood I’m off to cut.” He glanced back at Jon-Tom. “Sasheem’ll be onto us the moment we put in our appearance.”
“I know that,” Jon-Tom replied solemnly.
“Wish we ’ad your striped sassyface Roseroar with us. She’d like to meet up with Sasheem ’erself.”
“And I’d like for her to also, but she’d sink the boat.” He looked over the side. The zodiac trailed alongside the catamaran like a puppy on a tether. “I’m sure we can rig a brace for a small mast. With luck we won’t need it. How are you at tracking on water?”
“I’m an otter, mate. Not a fish.”
“Then we’ll have to try and raise some porpoises because we’ve no idea which way the pirates went.” He waved vaguely at the night. “East isn’t much of a heading to go on. We need something more specific.”
Mudge came up close and put both paws on the human’s waist. “I’ll never forget this, mate.”
“Damn right you won’t.”
Even as they were helping to outfit the zodiac with a flexible mast and sail, the ship’s crew tried to discourage them from setting out on what they perceived to be a futile and possibly fatal excursion. The first mate stared out into the night.
“You’ll never find them. Too much ocean out there.”
“We’re not going completely blind. They won’t be expecting any pursuit, so they’re likely to head for the nearest landfall. Captain Magriff’s already told us there are no islands between here and the coast, so we’ll be able to track them after they make land if not before.”
“Aye,” said another sailor, “but which landfall are you talking about? That’s a lot of coastline to be searching.”
“I think they’ll head due east, give or take a few degrees. They’ll need a place where their wounded can recover. The sooner they’re put on land, the better they’ll do.”
“Perhaps your magical oar will let you overtake them and allow you to sneak up on their stern at night.” The sailor sounded dubious. “You’re both crazier than a couple of loons.”
“That’s wot luv does to you,” Mudge told him.
