“Definitely ought to ’ave opted for the cookpot,” said Mudge miserably.
They were marched in single file out of the village between lines of snarling, gesticulating hunters. Then the pirates turned west instead of north.
“Heading for the sea. Got a boat on the beach somewhere, you bet.” Cautious sniffed at the air. “Told you pirate folk stick to ocean. Pretty long walk from here, I think. Be night soon.” He threw Jon-Tom a significant glance.
His meaning was clear enough. Despite Kamaulk’s warning they had to try to get away before the pirates got them back aboard a boat. Once safely at sea Sasheem would muster all his arguments, insisting it was dangerous to let them live, probably regaling Kamaulk with an exaggerated list of Jon-Tom’s abilities and in general doing everything in his power to convince the new captain that it was safer to have the human and his companions dead than to try and wring a few gold pieces out of them. Excepting Weegee, of course.
They didn’t stop for dark until a scrawny, swarthy coyote tripped over a root in the darkness and got up cursing. “We need to halt ’ere, Cap’n” He carried a long pike and was gaudily clad in reds and greens. “The boys don’t relish tryin’ to find the beach in the dark.” Murmurs of agreement rose from the other crew members.
“Aye, sir, we’re about done in.”
“’Tis been a long enough day and enough marchin’. I’m for makin’ camp here.”
Sasheem glared at them. “Nonsense.” He jabbed a thumb skyward. “The moon gives plenty of light.”
“We’ll do better to rest tonight and make better time in the morning,” the coyote argued stubbornly. “One never knows what one might meet in a strange wood at night, especially in this unknown country.”
The leopard let out a low snarl. “Surely you don’t fear the simpletons we just left?”
The coyote spat at the ground. “First mate, I ain’t afraid of anything natural. We’re just plain tuckered, we are. I’m second to none in me desire to be back aboard a seaworthy vessel, but even a fanatic needs his sleep. Now that we got what we come for I don’t see the need to rush. They ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
Kamaulk put a restraining wing on his second-in-command’s arm. “I’m tired myself. The past few days have been a strain, har. This is a good place to nap, dry and cool. Even if we were to reach the beach we’d have to spend the night on the sand before sailing home. The currents along these shores are tricky and I don’t care to try the breakers at night. Let the crew have their sleep.”
A smart captain, Jon-Tom reflected, and therefore more dangerous than the impetuous, hotheaded Corroboc. He knows how to listen to his men and play them off against each other.
Sasheem set an ample guard over the prisoners and around the temporary encampment just in case the hunters they had bargained with were tempted to try and repossess their former property. The fat, badly scarred beaver who had been assigned to watch glared down at Jon-Tom, angry at having been singled out while his comrades fell to sleeping.
Jon-Tom and Mudge put their heads together and whispered, but in the end it was Weegee who determined their next course of action. She sat up straight and spat on both of them. Man and otter separated in surprise.
“I’m fed up with the lot of you!”
“Luv, wot are you on about? We risked our necks to rescue you from these bastards. Just because things didn’t work out the way we planned. …”
“Planned my arse. You don’t plan, you stumble, you ignorant twits. You don’t consider the unforeseen possibilities. My luck that my ‘rescuers’ turn out to be the biggest trio of dummies this side of Snarken.”
Mudge rose. “Now you listen to me, you bristle-nosed bitch!”
“Don’t call me names, fuzznuts. I’ve about had it up to here with you and your pimple-brained man-boy. You’re no good as rescuers and you’re no good as anything else. At least this bunch,” and she jerked her head in the direction of the sleeping pirates, “has some guts. Take him, for instance.” She indicated their guard. “You can tell just by looking at him that he’s too smart to get himself in a fix like this. Males like that, they’ve been around. They know the score, how to take care of themselves.” The beaver made a show of ignoring this verbal by-play, but he consciously tried to suck in his gut and stand a little taller.
“A real male would know how to take advantage of every situation, no matter how delicate, without getting himself in a bucket of trouble. Wouldn’t he?” She batted her lashes at the beaver, who pretended not to notice. She began to twist about on the ground in a seductive manner. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a good lover I’ve damn well forgotten what it’s like.”
The beaver swallowed, watching her movements out of one eye.
“Don’t you think,” Weegee cooed to him, “you and I could slip away for a few minutes and show these bottle-brains what a real male and female can do?” She cut her eyes right. “There’s a couple of nice, thick bushes over there.”
“I—I can’t.” The guard’s lips were twitching. “Sasheem would have my tongue out if I left my post.”
“But you’re not leaving your post. Your job is to keep an eye on us, isn’t it? Those useless neuters are securely tied. So am I for that matter. Why, I wouldn’t be able to keep you from doing just any old thing you might want to do. And you will be keeping an eye on me, won’t you? Along with other things?”
The guard turned, studied Jon-Tom, Mudge and Cautious. “One of them might get loose.”
“Why don’t you tie their necks together?” Weegee suggested brightly. “That way if they try to run off they’ll just choke each other. If they trip and fall two of them will break the third one’s neck—not that that’d be any loss. Besides, we’ll just be a few feet over there.”
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“What could a little weak thing like me do, all tied up like this?”
The temptation was too much for the guard. Drawing a length of heavy rope from his belt he quickly secured the three males neck to neck, so tightly the hemp burned into Jon-Tom’s skin. Then he lifted Weegee under her arms and dragged her off into the bushes. Mudge rolled over to face Jon-Tom.
“Let’s ’ave a chat, mate.”
“About what?” Jon-Tom was looking past him into the underbrush where the guard had taken Weegee.
“Anything you want,” the otter said tightly, “but let’s talk.”
So they talked, trying not to listen to the sounds coming from the bushes until Weegee reappeared. She ran bent over and low and though her wrists were still bound behind her, she made short work of their bonds with her sharp teeth. Her clothing was more disheveled than ever.
“How’d you get away from him?” Jon-Tom asked the question because Mudge couldn’t.
“I waited and let him do as he pleased, whispering sweet sillinesses into his ears and moaning and whistling, and when he was about done I kissed him as hard as I could and kicked his nuts up into his throat, that’s how. Then I picked up a rock I’d selected earlier with my feet—he forgot that we otters are very agile with our feet—and I hit him in the head. Many times. Until he stopped moving. I don’t think he’ll move again.”
Cautious was the last to be untied. As Mudge and Jon-Tom were helping him slip free of his bonds, Weegee vanished back among the bushes only to return a moment later with the guard’s knife and spear.
“We’ve got to get our backpacks and stuff.” Jon-Tom rubbed his wrists where the rope had cut into them. “We’ve at least got to get the sack my duar’s in.”
“How much is me life worth to you, mate?”
“Mudge, you know I can’t leave that behind.”
