Friends

[Gordon Hagglethrump]

Atlas Stormstripe, his worst enemy, was about to kill his only friend.

Mr. Rosequill, the Navigator, held Gordon tightly as he flailed, pulled, pushed, kicked, and screamed. His body moved and twisted without thinking, trying to escape the hedgehog?s grasp as though he was caught in a trap. The bell was ringing to indicate an enemy vessel: CLANG-CLANG Clink-Clink-Clink. CLANG-CLANG Clink-Clink-Clink. CLANG-CLANG Clink-Clink-Clink.

Plink. Plink. Plink. He had to save Plink.

Fildering Dillwithers ran past him, preoccupied. He was followed by a dozen or so other hares: he recognized Quirry and Twilbee, Barak and Berek, an otter named Drandy, and Lieutenant Killian Wrightbones. All of them were armed. All of them were getting ready for battle. Fildering shouted something at Quirry and Twilbee. They picked up Plink and ran her towards the corridor, out of Atlas?s sight. She was safe. He had protected her.

Mr. Rosequill loosened his grip slightly.  Gordon screamed again, words pouring out of his mouth that didn?t make any sense. His heart was racing and he could barely breathe fast enough to keep up with it. The Navigator spoke firmly, "Calm down now, lad, don' you be worryin'. The lass'll be fine now."

Plink. Plink. Plink was still alive!

Mr. Rosequill turned Gordon around, so that his face was pressed up against him, so that he couldn?t help but look him in the eyes.

"Scully, me boy, I'm gonna need you to stop tusslin' with me about this. Beasts are gonna be fightin' soon, and it ain' no place for a young lad like you to be."

Plink. Where was Plink?

Mr. Rosequill took his paw and began walking swiftly towards his cabin, pulling Gordon so that his legs were forced to move along behind him. He stopped resisting, but did not calm down.

Plink.

*   *   *

Old Hriston, the retired general, opened his cabin door to greet them.

?Ahoy, ahoy! A mighty Long Patrolman and his hedgehog servant, just in time for midday tea! Come on in, an? jolly good seein? ya? both! I?ve got fresh cookies!?

?Watch him, friend,? said Mr. Rosequill, pushing Gordon into the cabin. ?Keep him safe.?  It was not clear which of the two of them he was addressing.

Mr. Rosequill closed the door as he left, slightly muffling the sounds of shouting and clanking metal outside. Gordon could feel the ship turning, and he struggled to keep his balance.

He stared at Hriston, his fur white and grey with many bare patches, his nails thick and the cataracts visible in his eyes. His aging body limped back from the door to take a seat on his plush, red-upholstered sofa. The arms were hand carved to look like young female hares in springtime. Beneath it was a worn and faded rug, which at one time bore the image of a hare soldier.

Gordon?s rapid breathing began to subside. He was safe. The fighting outside would not hurt him. He did not have to be a hero. He didn?t have to choose whether to be a Waverunner or a pirate today. He accepted one of the stale cookies from the tin Hriston held out to him.

?Ahoy then! So, how long have ya? been in the Long Patrol, eh, sergeant??

Gordon shrugged his shoulders and tried to focus on the cookie. He accepted a cup of hot tea. His mind was empty. A floating leaf of mint in his tea held him in a trance.

Hriston drooled slightly as he chewed. ?An? which weapon do ya? carry? Sword, eh??

Gordon shook his head.

?Spear? Pike, eh? Mace, may ?haps? Naw, not an axe?? The old general had walls covered in weaponry and armor of all sorts.

Gordon shook his head.

?A-har, I see, I see? yer a longbowbeast, then??

Gordon decided to play along. He had used a bow before, and was not entirely terrible with it.

?Uh? yes, sir.?

?Jolly good! Jolly good, har-har! I say! I knew many a brave soldier who did bear the longbow in my day. In fact, at the battle of Falling Bridge I assigned the longbows to the front lines, not the rear. This was the most in-gen-i-us of moves, if I must say so m?self! Took the curs?t enemy totally by surprise, it did??

He nodded and tried to show interest. Hriston continued lecturing on military tactics. Gordon felt lost and confused, like he had forgotten something important, but couldn?t remember what.

?? which brings me to the battle of the Cheeky Plain. Ya have ?eard of the Cheek-ot-syn Plain, haven?t ya?, lad? The one where we crushed the curs?t rebels once and fr? all? They haven?t dropped that one out of the history books now yet, eh??

Gordon nodded again. The name did sound familiar, though he knew it wasn?t from anything Brother Sage had taught him. He felt his cheeks. They were wet. He realized that he must have been crying earlier.

?Oh, jolly good, jolly good.? Hriston pulled out a bottle from between the sofa cushions. He took a sip and then handed it to Gordon. ?The next story deserves a strong drink.?

Gordon accepted, but he sputtered slightly as he drank it ? the dark crimson herbal cordial burned as it went down his throat. It smelled like the alley behind the tavern back home.  He heard a shout outside.

Hriston continued. ?Now, when I was only a Major, I had a young lad like you under my command who carried a longbow. We were trapped with our backs to the lake, just fifty or so of us, and the plain was chock full of the smarmy rebels far as the eye could see?.?

Gordon heard the noise of the bell ringing again. CLANG-CLANG Clink-Clink-Clink. More shouting from the deck. The ship ceased turning and he felt that now it was set on a straight course. He felt sick. CLANG-CLANG Clink-Clink-Clink.

?? an? this scrawny young lad runs out in front, an? he aims his bow at the rebel leader himself ? aye, old Scarknuckle himself ? and he takes one shot. And you know where it hits??

?In the heart?? Gordon asked. He remembered the story now.

?No! No! Har-har-har, that?s jus? what we told everybody afterwards. Har-har-har. Naw. He misses, completely. By a full yard ?tleast.?

Gordon looked at the drunk general, confused. He could feel the ship picking up speed.

?But ol? Scarknuckle, the fool, goes over and picks up the arrow head with his bare paws, an? he lifts it up and shouts at us, and he says is this the best you got? And then he keels over, cold and dead, in an instant.?

Gordon stood up. He stared at Hriston intently, thoughts racing. The story had changed. Everything had changed.

?And the rebels, they just run away, ?afrighted for their lives like some ghostly magic be about. I remember this clear as day. An? I ask the lad, ?Ahoy! How?d you manage that, private Higglethighs?? ?

?Hagglethrump,? Gordon corrected him, offended.

?What??

RAM. THUD. The ship jerked to a sudden halt, flinging both Gordon and Hriston out of their seats. Furniture crashed backwards into the cabin wall; the sofa overturned. The armor and weaponry fell off of the walls. They flew across the room, as did the cookies.

Gordon lifted himself off the floor and took a survey of the damage. The bottle of cordial was spilling over the rug and stained it red. The old general was unconscious.

Gordon felt his pockets. He still had his blade, the scent stolen from Merrius, and his vial of concentrated hemlock, a poison that could be absorbed through the skin. His father wasn?t a hero because he was a skilled soldier. He was a hero because he was sneaky and smart.

He had to save Plink.

Gordon grabbed a pillow and laid it beneath the old general?s head. He grabbed a bow and quiver, and snatched an antique uniform as he ran out the door.

*   *   *

Gordon formulated several brilliant plans in his mind to rescue Plink in the twenty seconds it took him to get down the stairs to the brig. He ran down the stairs so quickly that he would have missed her if she hadn?t grabbed him on her way up.

?Scully, matey!?

?Plink!?

He was overjoyed, and struggled not to cry in front of her.

?Don?t ye worry none, they be locked up safe,? she said. He heard shouts coming intermittently from Quirry and Twilbee at the foot of the stairs.

?Uh? how?d you? do??

?Ne?er been better! How d?you do, yerself??

?Um, I brought? a uniform.? He handed her a uniform large enough for a full grown hare. The ship turned drastically, so that the uniform fell into her paws, rather than a graceful hand-off. He stumbled back to his feet.

?An? I?ll be needin? this ?cause??

?So, they?re attacking a pirate ship. Everyone?s in battle mode, so they don?t remember faces. So, put it on and we?ll blend in. Then when we reach the ship, we can, uh? cross over and join the pirates.?

She paused, taken aback, and looked at him in disbelief. He could hear in her breathing the echoes of absolute terror. Then, her face regained its confident composure.

?Yar! I like what ye be thinkin?? but? maybe later.? She handed the oversized uniform back to him.

Just then, they heard a voice coming down the stairs from the deck.

?Quick!? Gordon pulled her aside into a small room, which he unlocked with a key. It was the larder. He locked the door behind them, and lit a small candle. They hid behind a barrel of chestnuts and Plink blew out the light.

*   *   *

Although they were only in the larder in the dark for a few minutes, the minutes stretched on and felt like hours. They felt the ship turning sharply and tossing from side to side, and it was difficult not to become nauseated. They heard Quirry and Twilbee freed from the brig and head up the stairs. They heard someone shouting incredulously, ?ram them a second time?? They sat in the dark together daring not to make a noise. No one went into the larder to prepare for a battle.

Timing was essential. They didn?t want to reach the deck too soon, or else they would be exposed. But they didn?t want to reach the deck too late, or else they wouldn?t blend in with the mass of soldiers boarding the pirates? vessel. They wanted to be on the deck the moment the ship hit the second time.

Gordon tried to figure out what Plink must be thinking, but he couldn?t. He did notice that she started breathing at the same rate he was, in tune with him. Maybe that meant they were friends.

Gordon felt the ship stop turning and straighten out again, and begin to pick up speed. He knew what came next. CLANG-CLANG Clink-Clink-Clink. CLANG-CLANG Clink-Clink-Clink. CLANG-CLANG Clink-Clink-Clink.

?It?s time,? he whispered.

?Where to??

?Deck.?

?How??

?I don?t know.?

?Infirmary,? she whispered, and started moving up to the ceiling, removing one of the panels above. He followed her.

Plink knew her way around the innards of the ship, and, although the crawl-spaces were quite tight, she reached a loose floorboard. He recognized the floorboard from the time they had first met. Plink crawled in, and lowered a hand to help Gordon up.

Above him, he heard a door open, and then a voice. It was Crue, the healer. Plink pulled him up, to face the stern gaze of the red squirrel. He instantly felt embarrassed, sort of like if his mother had caught him stealing and sneaking out of the house. Then, realizing he had been caught with Plink, he became afraid.

For reasons he couldn?t understand, Crue didn?t sound the alarm or shout for help. At first, she just stood there, staring, then her gaze softened and she told them to wait. Moments later, to Gordon's surprise, they were ushered out onto the deck.

RAM. THUD. The Zephyr struck its target.

*   *   *

?Eulaliaaaaaa! Eulaliaaaaaa!?

The shouting of the Waverunner horde was followed by a stomping that shook the entire ship, as the mass of soldiers flooded onto the pirate ship and began boarding it. He and Plink ran alongside them ? everyone was blinded to them in the chaos. The air was thick with smoke, and The Silver Maiden, as it was called, appeared to be on fire.

Several volleys of arrows landed amid them, but the only thing he could think to do was run faster. He stepped over the body of Barak. They had shared breakfast in the mess hall only that morning. Now, he was dead, an arrow through his chest. Gordon?s stomach turned. He felt sick. He wanted to vomit. He ran faster.

They approached the edge of the ship, where ropes were being tied to the Silver Maiden to keep it steady.

This was it.

Plink tugged on him, and Gordon pulled back with her. They watched from the edge, ducking behind a crate for safety.

No, not yet.

The first wave from the Zephyr bravely ran ahead and boarded.  The scene was carnage ? beasts fighting, killing, and dying. Many fell into the sea while crossing between the two ships.  Pirate arrows missed and hit pirates, and goodbeast swords struck goodbeasts by mistake.

Then, Gordon saw the figure of Merrius aboard the Maiden. A stoat came up behind him, pulled out a dagger, and slit his throat. Then, he tossed the hedgehog?s body into the ocean as though it were rubbish. Gordon felt a flood of anger. How could the pirates do this to Merrius? Sweet, kind, innocent Merrius. They didn?t even know him.

A second wave boarded, and then a third, bringing more slaughter. On the whole the pirates were a disorganized mess, and the Waverunners, who vastly outnumbered them, were clearly headed for victory. Gordon could make out the form of Atlas, on board the Maiden.

This was it.

He understood the look Plink had given him earlier. Why were they plunging into death? Why not stay aboard the ship, which seemed entirely safe? Why not just imagine that they had crossed over, pretend, play? why join a lost cause?

He looked at Plink. They both winced as they heard a loud scream.

No, not yet.

?Look matey? ye don?t have to go.?

He ignored her, however, because his eyes were fixed on a young hare on the deck of the Silver Maiden, fighting a weasel. A fox then walked up behind him, with a giant mallet, and knocked him unconscious. He recognized the hare. It was Fildering Dillwithers. His friend.

Rage filled him. He ran as fast as a hare could, and leaped as far as a hare could, and he landed aboard the Silver Maiden, Plink right behind him. He pulled out his bow, fitted an arrow into it, and plunged into battle. He was fighting for every side ? for his friends.