“Remember, everybody,” the Captain ordered, “keep your eyes peeled and shout out at the first smell of a monster.”

“All I can smell is fish.” Eddy sniffed the air as he rowed the little boat up the creek.

“We can all smell fish, dearie,” said the Crew. “Which is not surprising because we all smell of fish. That’s what eating it three times a day does for you. And of course you, Captain, are particularly pungent after Barracuda Bill pelted you with all those fish guts.”

“Enough chatter,” said the Captain. “Watch out for danger signs.”

The creek cut through a sunny meadow dotted with flowers. They passed a dandelion patch, where rabbits flopped and lolloped. They swished under a weeping willow, where blue and orange birds swooped. They stepped ashore by a patch of tall grass, where purple butterflies flitted and fluttered. They tied their boat to a bleached wooden post, on which was nailed a board painted with bright red letters that said: DANGER!

“We’ve found one,” said Eddy.

“Best take a good look round before we make a move,” said the Captain.

The Crew pulled a pair of binoculars from her rucksack and handed them to him.

“Twin telescopes. Very neat,” said the Captain. He scanned their surroundings.

“I can’t see any monsters,” he said. “Hang on. Back along the creek. Can you see what I’m seeing?”

He passed the binoculars to Eddy.

“That’s really odd,” said Eddy. “I wouldn’t have thought you could even get a cow into a canoe, let alone teach it how to paddle. Do you think that’s the cow that Barracuda Bill is after?”

“Could be,” said the Captain. “And if it is, I want to know what it’s up to.” He started waving in the cow’s direction. “Hey! You! Mooo!”

“That’s done it,” said the front end of the cow. “They’ve spotted us. I told you that this disguise only blends in when we’re on land.”

“It’s the only one we’ve got,” said the back end. “You want to dress up as a giant squid, you get the sewing machine out.”

“Oh, stop arguing and keep paddling.”

The cow began to turn the canoe clumsily and head for the far bank of the creek.

“Let’s get after it,” the Penguin urged heroically.

“Should we follow it?” asked Eddy. “Or head straight for the castle and the ruby ring?”

Before the Captain could answer, a sudden cry stopped him dead.

“Halt! Qui va là? Who goes there?” a shrill voice demanded.

“Who said that?” asked the Captain. There was no sign of the owner of the voice.

“I asked first,” it replied.

“Perhaps the monsters are invisible,” said the Penguin, suddenly sounding rather less heroic.

“Friend or foe?” asked the voice.

“I can’t answer that if I don’t know who you are,” the Captain replied.

“So, you refuse to identify yourselves. En garde!”

“How can I ‘en garde’ when I can’t see you?”

“Here we are,” said the mystery voice somewhere near his right ear. “Before I make you wish you had never been born, allow me to introduce myself. I am the Chevalier François Cabernet Lalande-de-Pomerol, and this is Plonque, mon ami and companion in blood.”

“Bonjour!” said a second tiny voice.

“We are the Raisins of Death! Attack!”

Eddy saw two tiny blobs leap from the top of the danger sign, and land on the Captain’s hat.

“Ha ha!” the two voices cried together, as the raisins began to jump up and down.

“Do not bother to beg for mercy, dog!” the Chevalier yelled.

“Fair enough,” said the Captain.

The raisins jumped up and down some more.

“He’s a big one,” said Plonque, panting slightly. “It would be easier if he took his hat off. Do you think we could ask him?”

“Courage, mon brave, and alley-oop!” replied the Chevalier. And he began to jump higher and harder.

“I think,” said Plonque, “I need a bit of a rest.”

They stopped jumping.

“The Raisins of Death?” asked Eddy.

“Indeed,” said the Chevalier. “The most feared and fruity assassins in all the island.”

“Oui. That’s us,” said Plonque.

“And how does that work, then?” asked the Captain.

“We jump on your head till it breaks and – poof! – you are dead,” explained the Chevalier. “So! Now you are afraid – no?”

“Not really, no,” said the Captain.

“He has spirit, this one,” said Plonque. “Not to mention a very thick head.”

“We haven’t got time for all this,” said the Captain. “We’ve got to get to the Emperor’s castle.”

“The castle?” said the Chevalier. “And what exactly is your business there?”

“What business is it of yours what our business is?” said the Captain.

“It is the business of la Résistance to know all the business concerning the Emperor – may his undergarments itch intolerably. We are sworn to overthrow his cruel tyranny – and in the meantime to think up as many ways as we can to get on his nerves.”

“Then you shouldn’t be fighting us,” said Eddy. “We’re here to break into the castle—”

“And slice him into tiny pieces?” asked the Chevalier.

“Not quite,” said Eddy. “To steal a ruby ring.”

“Tiny pieces is better,” said the Chevalier. “But the ring will do.”

“Then maybe you can help us?”

“Our enemy’s enemies are our friends. And your companion with the thick head is very brave – he did not flinch when we set about him. He did not snivel to be spared. Just the sort that la Résistance needs. So of course we will help you.”

“First, we need to get inside his castle,” said Eddy.

“Aha! We know a special way,” said the Chevalier. “Come with us.”

“That map is rubbish,” said the Penguin, as the raisins led them through a wood. “The first island that’s supposed to be dangerous is the first island that isn’t. Here be monsters, indeed.”

“You’ve perked up again,” said Eddy.

“If two bits of dried fruit are all it has got, then I reckon this is the perfect place to be a hero.”

They reached the edge of the wood. The Emperor’s castle stood before them, gloomy and glowering over the landscape.

“The defences are strong,” said the Chevalier. “But sharp brains can pick the lock that would defeat brute force. Come.”

He led them to the foot of the wall, took a deep breath, and then shouted, “What is the difference between the Emperor and a bucket of horse manure? The bucket!”

“What is he doing?” asked Eddy.

“Insulting the Emperor – may he get shampoo in his eyes at bathtime,” said Plonque.

“Why is the Emperor’s face like lumpy mashed potato?” shouted the Chevalier. “I don’t know why, it just is!”

“I like it,” said the Penguin. “But I’m not sure they can hear you inside. Let me have a go, this is right up my street. Stand back everybody – it’s hero time. I’m not saying the Emperor is stupid,” he yelled, “but if brains were dynamite, he couldn’t blow his hat off!”

“That’s very good,” said the Chevalier.

“Here’s another,” said the Penguin. “What is the – hang on, where did the ground go?”

The ground had not gone anywhere. But the Penguin had. Hoisted into the air, his flippers flapped in the breeze. He couldn’t see the hand that had lifted him, but the other Codcakers could – at least, they could see the studded leather glove that the hand was wearing. And they could see the shining chain mail covering the massive muscular body that the hand belonged to. And the featureless helmet that covered the face of the guard who was now dangling the Penguin in mid-air. Even worse, they could see the guard’s thirty brawny companions, because they were now surrounded by them.

With a snarl and a grunt, the first guard slung the Penguin over his shoulder and stomped off towards the castle gate. His thirty companions silently lowered thirty vicious-looking spears and prodded them at the other Codcakers.

“I think,” the Penguin shouted back at them, “they want you to follow us.”