The Sable Quean (34 page)

The young hare extricated his numbed paw. “Thank you, friend—an’ luck be with you also!”

Sniffy crept forward. He made a circuit of the big oak before reporting back. “There’s a nice liddle door leadin’ in there. I couldn’t stop t’see if’n it was locked, though.”

Jango looked up from sharpening his small shrew rapier. “I don’t think we’ll be botherin’ to look for a key, eh, Buck?”

Buckler chuckled. “No, mate. We’ll knock just the once—a mighty big knock!”

They settled down to wait in silence.

Axtel soon located his former exit from Althier. He rummaged around with strong paws, and soon had a hole big enough to admit two at a time. The thirty Guosim vanished down the hole promptly.

Diggs waited until the last shrew had gone, then plucked a broad blade of grass. Folding it a certain way, he locked it tight between both paws and blew hard. A loud, piercing noise, like that of a hunting hawk, rang out sharp and clear. Then it was Diggs’s turn to disappear down the opening.

Buckler and Jango heard the signal. The young hare began counting slowly to sixty. “One . . . two . . . three . . .” Jango murmured to his Guosim warriors, “Draw yore weapons an’ wait on my word!”

The first streaks of twilight appeared in the sky. Somewhere off to the west, a few descending skylarks could be heard warbling as they came to earth. Paws gripped sword hilts tightly, jaws clenched, eyes narrowed; the Guosim crouched, waiting for the count to end. Buckler stuck to the plan, murmuring off the numbers steadily, neither slowing nor speeding up.

“Fifty-seven . . . fifty-eight . . . fifty-nine . . . sixty!”

The war cries mingled as they charged the door. “Logalogalogalooooog! Eulaliiiiaaaaaaa!”

 

Midda and Tura were wakened from their brief nap by the sounds of splashing and shouting coming from the flooded area.

The Guosim maid commented tersely, “Looks like those stinkin’ vermin are back on our tails. Grab the little uns an’ let’s get goin’, mate!”

The babes were quickly roused. They went willingly, their frightened little faces showing starkly in the lantern light.

Tura shouldered the awkward, leggy harebabes, grunting under the effort. “I wish you two would hurry up an’ learn to hop along without fallin’ flat on yore faces. Anyhow, where’ve Jiddle’n’Jinty gone to? They should’ve been back by now.”

As if on cue, a light appeared down the tunnel. It was the young Witherspyk hogs, carrying their torch. Immediately they heard the noise of the vermin.

Jiddle’s spikes stood up straight. “Oh, no, how long has that been goin’ on?”

Tura tapped a footpaw impatiently. “Just long enough to worry us. Now take one o’ these hares, an’ let’s see how fast ye can go!”

They went at a brisk pace. Midda caught up with Jinty, who had been saddled with the other harebabe. “Tell me, wot did ye find down there? Is there a way out for us?”

The hogmaid explained, “We went a long way, an’ it was all like this, just tunnel. Then we came to a sort of fork—it turned into two tunnels then.”

Diggla, who was seated on Midda’s shoulders, expressed annoyance. “More tunnils, more tunnils, huh. Itta nothin’ but lotsa tunnils down ’ere!”

Midda was anxious to hear more. “Well, go on. Wot sorta tunnels? Did ye explore ’em!”

Jinty shrugged. “Didn’t have time. Jiddle said we should be gettin’ back ’cos you’d be worried.”

Midda tugged the mousebabe’s tail to stop him from jiggling about. “Jiddle was right, I suppose, but didn’t you even take a peek at the two tunnels?”

Jiddle caught up with her. “I did, but only a quick glance. One went in a slope, uphill. The other one went downhill, it looked pretty steep. That’s why I came back. I knew you’d want to try the uphill one—it should prob’ly lead us out into daylight, d’ye think?”

The Guosim maid speeded up the pace. “It prob’ly will!”

 

Back at the edge of the flooded tunnel, Zwilt the Shade had several Ravagers holding torches close to the dark waters as he scanned them.

He saw nothing for a moment, then a wide ripple revealed the wavering fin and the dull sheen of the eel. He took a step back—it was truly a big thing. He nodded coolly, as if encountering a monster that size was an ordinary occurrence.

“Doesn’t look like much t’me. What are ye all scared of? Here, Lugg, take a spear and slay it.”

Wordlessly, the bulky stoat grabbed a spear from a ferret and a torch from a river rat. He sloshed into the water after the huge yellow eel. It turned and began swimming off. Some of the Ravagers shouted encouragement.

“Go on, Lugg, stick it good afore it swims away!”

“Aye, chop its ’ead off, an’ we’ll build a fire an’ roast it. A fish that size should taste good!”

Lugg lunged forward. The water was now over waist high. He struck hard at the eel, misjudging the kill. The blade grazed its side, merely causing a deep scratch. However, it was sufficient to enrage the yellow eel. It charged Lugg and attacked him.

The bulky stoat was slow and ungainly in the cold, dark water. He yelled in pain as the eel’s sharp teeth latched onto his stomach. The big slithery coils wrapped around Lugg, tugging him sideways. He dropped the spear, the torch hissed as it went beneath the water, and Lugg’s head made a resounding thud as it struck the rocky tunnel wall. He gave a faint moan and vanished beneath the dark icy surface.

Zwilt watched the writhing coils rising above the water, then shouted an order. “Throw your spears, quickly, while we can still see it!”

A salvo of spears embedded themselves in the monster ’s body. The hafts clacked together as it went into a frenzied death dance. More spears struck the eel, and several arrows from the Ravager archers. It took a long time before it finally floated limp upon the surface.

One of the river rats waded in, yelling, “Lend a paw ’ere, mates. This’ll make good eatin’!”

Zwilt waded in after him, with drawn sword. “Touch it an’ ye lose your head—that goes for everybeast. We’re not here on a fishing trip. Now, get through this water an’ pick up the prisoners’ trail. Move!”

 

At the other side of the tunnel, Vilaya found herself facing a blank wall. The end she had chosen was nothing but a cul-de-sac. The Sable Quean viewed it philosophically as she spoke her thoughts to a weasel named Grakk.

“Well, at least we know the captives didn’t come this way. We’ll follow Zwilt—he might have had some luck.”

She sent Grakk in the lead, following up by walking leisurely in the rear of the column. At one point, Vilaya called for a rest. Guards with food and drink attended her. She beckoned Grakk to her.

“Take two guards and scout ahead. Report back to me as soon as you find anything.”

The weasel bowed, then trotted off with two other weasels in his wake.

Whilst sitting there eating and drinking, Vilaya began to relax. She assessed the situation. The fugitives were young and inexperienced, little more than babes, for the most part. They could not outrun vermin guards and trained warriors. Zwilt would recapture them. Which brought her to another point.

Zwilt the Shade, what was to be done with him? Now they were enemies, Vilaya could no longer trust or rely upon the tall sable. But he was serving a purpose at the moment. When he returned with the prisoners, she would hear all that went on from her faithful old rat Dirva.

The Sable Quean knew that Zwilt would be easy to trap. He was arrogant and headstrong, ever ready to use his sword instead of his tongue. Once he was out of the way, she would no longer trust any one beast with the sole power of acting for her. No, she would have three, maybe four, captains to carry out her orders. Play them against one another, just to keep them wondering. Divide and conquer was always a sound strategy. Vilaya’s thoughts were disturbed by a guard.

“Majesty, Grakk is returned.”

Seeing the weasel coming down the tunnel, she held up a paw, calling to him, “Grakk, what news?”

Grakk waved his paws in alarm, making a silencing noise. He did not speak until he was face-to-face with her.

“Hush, Majesty, keep yore voice down. There’s beasts outside—just beyond the openin’ we came through!”

Vilaya’s claws dug into the weasel’s shoulder as she pulled him closer. “Beasts, what beasts? Tell me.”

Grakk winced. “There’s other news you’ll want to ’ear, Majesty, but first let me tell ye. On my way back along this tunnel, me’n’ my mates ’eard noises from inside the caves. So I peeked through the break in the wall, an’ I saw ’em. They was Guosim shrews, all armed an’ ready, searchin’ round everyplace. An’ I saw one o’ those fightin’ rabbets, the one we met at that Abbey. Aye, an’ he’d just met up with that molebeast who tunnelled in ’ere, you know, the big mad un who wields an’ ’ammer!”

Vilaya gripped him even tighter. “How many of these warriors were there?”

Grakk groaned as her claws pierced his shoulder. “Aaaargh! Majesty, I dunno, but they’ll soon be in this tunnel, the way they’re scourin’ round outside.”

Vilaya released him, issuing an immediate order. “Listen carefully, Grakk. Tell our beasts to lay aside their weapons quietly. Go to the opening and block it up again. Be as silent as possible and make certain that opening is blocked completely, with solid rock and earth. Pack it tight, much tighter than those escapers did. Then stay posted there and listen. If they discover the blocked opening, let me know right away. Well, go on, what are you waiting for?”

Grakk brought his mouth to the Sable Quean’s ear and whispered. Then he saluted and crept off to do her bidding.

Vilaya sat immobile awhile. Then she hugged herself, rocking back and forth as she keened in a hoarse whisper,

“No, not Dirva, the only beast I ever trusted with my secret thoughts. Oh, he’ll pay dearly for this. Zwilt the Shade will curse the day he was born by the time I’m done with him. Ooooohhhh, Dirva, my old counsellor!”

 

Under the impact of Jango and Buckler, the small door set into the oak trunk was knocked inward with a resounding slam. The Guosim shrews and Buckler went thundering into Althier, where they confronted their first handicap.

The whole place was in darkness, as the Ravagers had taken all the torches and lanterns to search the escape tunnel. Charging right in from daylight to complete blackout caused a certain amount of confusion.

Buckler roared out in his best Salamandastron parade-ground voice, “On my command allbeasts will stand still. Haaaaalt!”

Jango, who was standing close to Buckler, remarked, “Well, that did the trick, mate. Ye could hear a pin drop in here. Proper dark, though, ain’t it?”

Sparks flew, illuminating the caverns in a brief flash. It was Sniffy, striking his rapier blade across a flint.

“Stan’ still, Guosim—I’ll get a glim goin’ . . . there!”

A pale little flame grew out of the tinder bag, which the resourceful Tracker always kept with him.

The Guosim shrews moved with admirable urgency, dashing outside and chopping branches from the dead lower limbs of an old spruce. The makeshift torches burned instantly, crackling as they cast light amidst the subterranean shadows.

Buckler shook his head. “I don’t like it, Jango. Something’s not right—there’s no sign of anybeast down here!”

The Guosim Chieftain held up a paw. “Lissen, Buck, I can hear sounds comin’ this way!”

Suddenly Diggs charged in, yelling, “Lights ahead, chaps! Give ’em blood’n’vinegar, follow m—”

He ground to a halt. “Er, er, what ho, you chaps—oof!”

The tubby hare was knocked flat from behind when Flib and the others came hurtling in. Diggs sat up, dusting himself off. “I say, steady on. Who told you to charge in like a flippin’ shower o’ madbeasts?”

Flib put the blame right where it belonged. “You did!”

Straightening his tunic, Diggs wagged a paw at her. “Well, just be a bit more jolly well careful in future—that’s classed as assault on a leadin’ officer, I’ll have ye know!”

Axtel arrived after the charge, stumping in on his injured footpaw. The mole waved his hammer at Buckler. “Yurr, we’m b’ain’t see’d nobeast. ’Tis vurry h’odd.”

Jango shrugged. “Same here, mate. Buck, wot d’ye say we splits up into groups? That ways we can scour this place quicker, in case they’re hidin’ away.”

The young hare agreed. “Good idea—right, Jango, Diggs, Axtel, Sniffy, myself and er . . .”

He glanced around, noticing Flib standing to attention and putting on a brave face. “And Flib, you’ll be group captains. Pick your teams, then get off in different directions. Make sure you search every corner o’ this place. Go to it!”

Grakk had stayed at his post, listening on the other side of the blocked escape route. He heard Diggs passing through the former dungeon with his escort of searchers. The tubby hare did not linger long.

“Not a confounded thing in sight here, chaps, just another bloomin’ cave. This Althier place is nothin’ but a load of old caves’n’passages, wot. Come on, let’s see where this passage leads to. . . .”

Grakk stayed, listening until there was complete silence from outside. Then he scurried off to make his report. The Sable Quean was waiting at the edge of the water in the flooded section. One look at her furious face warned the weasel to be careful. He waited until she looked at him and asked, “Well?”

He swallowed hard. “Majesty, it’s safe. They passed right by the place that we sealed up.”

She turned away, snapping at a group of guards. “Get me over this water. Do you want me to wade through in my robes?”

A nervous ferret bowed low. “If’n you’d like to sit on this litter, we’ll carry ye, Majesty.”

A pile of spears, spaced out into a square, had been bound together. Wordlessly, Vilaya perched in the centre of the structure. Half a score of vermin lifted it carefully, then entered the water, with two more going ahead, to sound out the depth. As the other Ravagers waded in, one of them stiffened with fright at the big dead eel floating near the wall.