Rat Trap (Cricket Argyll)

[Substitute Author]

Well...that's just not cricket!

The raft stood complete in the early morning sands. It was a makeshift vessel, but it looked stable enough to hold the five creatures it would be home to for however long it took to reach land. In the center of the craft, the slaves had raised a mast and a sail, patched together using anything they could find, billowed with the occasional gust of wind. Cricket hated that sail, especially the blue patch just left of the center.

~

?We?re commandeering your bandanna,? Tassle informed the young rat, unceremoniously ripping the covering off the child?s head. Though Cricket longed to bite, kick and claw the uppity woodlander, she mastered herself and settled for a rigid nod. The shrew raised her eyebrows at this peculiar act of compliance, but said nothing as she walked off to continue sewing the sail together with the rough string they had designed by unweaving some of the shorter, useless pieces of rope. The child stuck her tongue out at the elder creature?s back. Let them keep working in earnest. All the better if they finished quickly?Her time was drawing near.

~
?So what should we name her?? Kelsey, the otter who was in the habit of ?accidentally? stepping on Cricket?s oversized tail, demanded.

?Name?? Ulrick snorted derisively at the idea.

?Aye!? the she-otter nodded, looking to the other slaves for support. ?Can?t sail a ship proper ?less she has a name, mates. Y?know that, Tassle!?

?What about namin? ?er after Mizz Shelby?? Brooga offered, but no one seemed keen on the idea.

?Maybe the Freedom?? the shrewmaid suggested, a paw curled thoughtfully under her chin.

?The Chance.? All eyes turned to Cricket who glared back. ?S?good name!? she chittered defensively. ?Yer all takin? a chance on this heap o? wood an? it?s a chance at real freedom an? a chance t?-?

?Oi think it be a wunnerful name, Cricket,? the mole?s wrinkly face crinkled into an ugly smile as she placed a digging claw on the rat?s back. Ugh! The child repressed a shudder at the woodlander?s touch. Really, all this play acting at being helpful was bad enough without the great oaf shoving her scummy paws where they were least wanted. ?Are ?ee sure ?ee doan?t want t?come with us?n?? A collective intake of breath from the other ex-slaves that was lost on the kindly mole, but not the vermin. Tch! As if I?d ever go anywhere with a buncha wet eared idiots by choice! ?Oi ?magine it?ll get lonely ?ere an? ?ee might get lost in ee caves. That wudd be scary. Burr, aye!?

?Nah, nah,? Cricket shook her head with a carefully formed smile that conveyed something between regret and excitement. ?I wanna go back an? ?pologize t?Cookie fer stealin? his ladle,? she indicated the cooking implement shoved through her rope belt. ?An? s?easier t?feed ya than it is t?feed me with ya when ya ain?t got much food or water t?start.?

The other slaves had moved off to drag the raft more fully into the water, gathering up the makeshift paddles they had hewn using Tassle?s stolen weapon and Ulrick?s brute force. Now that they were assured the despicable vermin would not be joining them, they could move on.

?We?m c?n manage with one moar,? Brooga pressed annoyingly. ??Ee ?elped so much with makin? ee raft. It be on?y fair ee ride it with us?n away from this turrible oisland.?

?Maybe,? Cricket conceded, unable to hide to the fiendish glee in her eyes. ?But ya keep fergettin? I?m a vermin, Broo-haha. We ain?t made t?be friends.?

The child delighted as the mole stumbled back in shock at this pronouncement, or perhaps it was her expression? Which could it be?! That was the sort of reaction Ashira was always getting, So what?d I do t?make it right? I wasn?t even tryin?! Well, if she could get that sort of terrified look from Broo-haha without any effort, Then I can?t wait t?see what happens when I really work at it!

?Brooga!? Roger called. ?C?mon or we?ll miss the tide. Don?t worry about the brat; she?ll manage.?

Cricket stuck out her tongue at the insolent mouse and turned to stalk back toward the caves when a howl from above stopped her.

?Wakeeha see death for all!? Oh, great, Whacky?s back. ?You can never leave island alive. Great spirits tell Wakeeha! Listen to wind! She whisper Big Evil. And death. You-?

?Oh, for the love of the Fates above us!? Tassle squeaked indignantly, already on the raft with Brooga and Roger, waiting for Ulrick to board so they could start rowing out of the cove with a bit of otter-powered help provided by Kelsey. ?We?re leaving. See?! We?re alive and we?re leaving! Go eat your tail, you loon!? With that, Ulrick was aboard and everyone took up a paddle.

?They not survive on raft,? Wakeeha intoned more quietly from her customary rock. ?Tide filled with blood.?

?Yeah, yeah, I know, Whacky,? Cricket sneered, looking up at the island rat.
?Death! Doom! Destruction! Dope! Stuff it, will ya? I ain?t stickin? around ?cause I like them woodlanders, ya know.? The child turned her gaze back to the rickety craft making slow progress through the relatively calm waters. Her maw curled into a terrible smile filled with gaps where sharp teeth should have been. ?I?m jist here t?watch yer ?predictions? come true.?

?An? they?ll come true a?right??

~

?Would ?ee ?elp us?n with ee ropes, Cricket?? Brooga smiled wearily at the rat. Both creatures were covered in sweat and the little rodent was panting heavily, not used to such intense and constant exertion. Woodlanders were built for this sort of thing that was why they were slaves. Cricket, though, she was not built for this at all. Her paws ached and she had a mind to scream curses at the sun until it set. Burnin? pot o? goop with a buggy brain, the child snarled at the orb positioned perfectly in the sky to blind her. They were all out to get her. Even that thrice dratted excuse of a day torch!

?Fine,? the rat removed as much discontent from her voice as possible.

??Ee seem t?be gettin? along better, if Oi may say, Cricket,? the mole observed distractedly as she wrapped the rope around the spars she was tying together and knotted it with some great difficulty. ?See ?ow easy it be when we?m all work together??

?Yeah?easy,? the vermin child agreed with a grin, furtively glancing about to make sure the others were occupied before sinking her teeth into the rope in several places. Many of the dry, salty strands severed their links with just a bit of chewing. Enough was left, though, that it held together and gave the appearance of a whole line.

More than she could count on both her fingers and toes. That was how many times she had bitten the ropes that were to bind the raft securely together in the absence of tar or pine resin. Not only that, she had made sure to put a few less noticeable cracks in the wood planks where she could. As Cookie was fond of saying, ?Every little bit counts!?.

~

They had passed out of the bay and into the rougher waters when it happened. The wind picked up suddenly causing the make-shift sail to puff up and the otter who was dutifully pushing the little raft along lost her grip and tried to hold onto one of the trailing ends of the rope knots as the Chance shot forward. Cricket and Wakeeha heard the slaves shouting encouragement and saw what might have been the mouse Roger reaching out to her as she strained forward. Then the rope snapped and she was much farther away.

?Cheheheh?? Tassle was trying desperately to untie the sail from the mast, but Cricket had made sure those were secure using the most complex knots she could imagine. The others paddled backward and they slowed just enough for Kelsey to catch hold of another trailing piece of line. She pulled herself forward with it until it too snapped under the strain, one of the broken ends whipping up from the spars and smacking Roger across the face and into the ocean. ?Cheeheehee??

Things were going brilliantly now as more ropes snapped and the loose wood shifted beneath the slaves? footpaws. Kelsey was occupied keeping Roger from drowning, but the scared mouse was only a burden to his rescuer as he clung like a rock to the weakened otter?s form. Tassle gave up on the sail and began shouting loud enough that the rats on the shore could hear, but not understand her words. ?Cheehee?Chiirruup!?

Cricket collapsed on the sand and cackled madly until tears came to her eyes. When next she looked up, the mast had fallen and she could just make out Meanystripe?s head and flailing paws.

?Tide filled with blood,? Wakeeha nodded and was gone.

?Chiirruup! That?s right! Chee!? the little rat yelled, raising her arms in a rude gesture at the drowning slaves. ?Take that ya half-witted potatah bugs! Cheehee! That?s what happens when ya try t?turn yer betters inta slaves!

?An? don?t fergit t?tell Davy Jones that Cricket Arg?? she paused for a moment, thinking. Cricket? That was not the sort of name that struck fear into the hearts of woodlanders, much less vermin. For as long as she could remember, her ridiculously ?cute? name had been the object of scorn among her peers. It was not what a proper vermin needed to get by. Something more powerful, more scary, more?fearsome was required! ?Tell him that Cutfang Argyll sent ya! Chiichiirruup!?