The Bellmaker

18

It was late afternoon. Rain began falling in large spots, slowly at first, then it gathered force into a major downpour. On a wooded slope of Castle Florets valley a score of otters threaded their way through the undergrowth. The quick eyes of Greenbeck picked up a movement close by; a sharp wave of his paw sent Iris and the rest of the troop into a crouch, wary and silent. They held their breath, watching keenly as Silvamord and her horderats tramped by, hardly a pawlength from them.

When they had passed, Troutlad stood up hefting a javelin.

Iris pulled him down, saying, “Not yet. We dont want them to know were here, and besides, we dont know if theres more of em patrolling. Wheres the Butcher Bird?

Glokkpod poked his head out of a wet swathe of feathers. “Hirr I am. Glokkpod not like thiz ryne!

Iris blew rainwater from her muzzle enjoyably. “Noth-ing wrong with a bit of clean rain! Now, show me the tower our friends are trapped in.

Not being airborne, it took the shrike a little while to find the exact location. The otter troop hid among the trees as Glokkpod pointed his beak upward at the highest point of Floret, crying, “Thirr, up thirr they are.

Iris looked up. From where she was, the tower was a mere pinpoint, almost invisible in the rain. “Butcher Bird, fly up there and tell our friends weve arrived, she said. “Ask them what they want us to do. It looks impossible to help anybeast trapped that high up.

The four escaped prisoners were sitting out on the roof-beams, openmouthed as they caught raindrops to drink. Glokkpod landed alongside them; settling himself on a beam, he stared down at the weapons chopping through the splintered floor of the attic. “Ratz gonna gitcha soon if you notta scape hirr.

Mariel wiped a paw across her mouth. “Youre here at last! Have you brought help?

The shrike dipped his beak toward the valley floor. “Down thirr, otters, Irriz say how they gonna help, what-cha want them to do?

“Hmph! Shouldve thought that was jolly obvious, said Me 1 drum, twitching his ears in annoyance. “A whacking great long ropell do the trick, wot!

“Kchakcha kcha! No rope that big, longirrs!

The hare shot the Butcher Bird a murderous glance. “Ive warned you once about calling me longears, you great puffed-up windbag! But he was speaking to empty space; the shrike had flown down to the otters.

Greenbeck shook his head. “A long rope, mate? Theres never been a rope that long in the history of seasons. What dyou think, Iris?

The female otter leader moved this way and that, viewing the castle from different angles. “Youre right. Theres no such thing as a rope that long, but I think they could do it with a shorter rope. Greenbeck, what dyou think of this as an idea ...

All four prisoners were now ripping tiles from the roof and hurling them through the sizeable hole that horde-beast weapons had created in the attic floor. Their attack was so ferocious it had driven the rats from the tower room out onto the spiral staircase. Even Gael Squirrelking was throwing tiles with every ounce of strength he could muster. Dandin took his time, waiting until he could see a venturesome rat poke its head into view before he hurled a tile.

“Well only keep them at bay for as long as these tiles last, then Nagru will send his archers in to pick us off, be said.

Mariel struggled to loosen a tile from a crossbeam. “Thats true, make each shot count. Glokkpod, what news?

The Butcher Bird landed almost sideways, gripping the small flagpole at the apex of the tower.

“Lissin tthiz silly ideaits yirr only hope. He explained Iriss scheme to them. Meldrum looked positively crestfallen at the wild notion.

“Let me get this straight, you chaps. The otters can us a rope up thats not very long. Right, then we ible it over a beam and one of us swarms down it andSwings to and fro until he can reach the battlements, at end of the west wall. He lands on the battlements, n one by one the rest of us shimmy down the blinkin rope an swing like bloomin pendulums until were all on the bally battlements.

Dandin continued, “Then we loose the rope, hitch it round the battlement and swarm down into the moat, out of the moat and climb down the rest of the plateau. Sounds dangerous, but Ill risk it! What about you, Meld-rum?

“Outbloominrageous! Fiddlesticks, totally impossible!

Glokkpod sneered at the hare. “You frightinned, long-irrs?

The old hare flung a tile, which took another rat out of commission. “Frightened? Id be an idiot not t be, you befeathered buffoon, but its the only way, so Meldrum Fallowthora will do it, frightened or not, sir!

Sourgall trotted down the stairs on Nagrus orders to where Graywort was waiting nervously.

“Foxwolf says hell see yer now.

Graywort followed Sourgall, probing nervously. “Did he say what he wants me for, mate?

Sourgall shrugged. “Dunno, but youll soon find out.

The Urgan Nagru smiled at Graywort cordially as he ushered him forward. “Ive been hearing good reports about you, rat. Been out helping Queen Silvamord search for intruders, have you?

Graywort was slightly bewildered but happy that he was receiving complimentary attention from the horde leader. “I was just about to, Sire, when Bluebane said you wanted to see me. Is there any service I can perform for you?

Nagru stopped him two stairs short of the tower room.

“On the contrary, Silvamord tells me that you are a good trustworthy beast capable of giving orders. Of course you heard what happened to poor Riveneye. Hes dead, unfortunately, my best Captain. So, theres a small service I can perform for you, my friend. Im promoting you to Captain in Riveneyes place.

Gray worts chest swelled, and he trembled with delight. “Thank you, Sire. I am yours to command!

Nagrus smile widened. “Well, that is nice to know. Jtfay I give you your first command now ... Captain Graywort?

The newly promoted Captain threw an extra-smart salute. “Id be proud to carry out your orders, Sire!

Nagru retreated one step, his smile practically extending to the wolfskull perched on top of his head. “Right. Go and tell those escaped prisoners that its useless to ; resist, they must surrender immediately.

The Foxwolf turned his back on Graywort, who strode smartly off into the very center of the tower room. Standing amid the wreckage of fallen rats and broken tiles, he glanced about nervously. Then, summoning up his courage, he coughed and called out in officious tones, “I am Captain Graywort of Urgan Nagrus horde, and I order you to come down from there and surr

Grayworts voice was cut off abruptly, as was his existence, by four well-aimed tiles.

Nagru sat upon the stairs, changing his smile to an expression of heartfelt pity. “Sourgall, he said, “is it still raining heavily?

“Yes, Sire. It shows no sign of slackening.

“Hmm, I think well leave the prisoners to soak until morning. Im getting tired. Mount a guard on these stairs, will you? Oh, and when youve done that would you be so kind as to convey some sad news to Queen Silvamord?

“Aye, Sire. What shall I say?

“Tell her that our brave new Captain Graywort was cruelly slain by the escaped prisoners. Youll do that for me, wont you? I cant stand being the bearer of sad tidings.

Silvamord was at that moment regretting her decision to venture outside Castle Floret into the downpour of a rapidly darkening evening. The squad of horderats was diminished by four, and some beast, or beasts, were stalking her and the patrol through the rising mists that curtaining rain was releasing from the warm ground. The vixen could not see her assailants, and she was rapidly of the opinion that she did not want to see them. Her one desire now was to get back inside the safety of Florets walls. To save losing face in front of her command, she ranted at them, “Stop pushing from behind there. Whats the matter with you? Frightened of a bit of rain and mist?

Beside her a rat gurgled and fell, transfixed by an arrow. She dodged behind a tree, calling out to the rat Fillch, “Wheres Graywort? Why isnt he here?

She jumped, startled as Fillchs voice came close to her ear. “I dunno, mLady. Gone off to see the Urgan Nagru, I think.

“You think? Who said he could? I never did. Whos second in command to Graywort?

Fillch knew what was coming, but he answered truthfully. “I am yMajesty. Dyou want tgo back to the castle now?

“Well of course I do, oaf! Silvamords voice was shrill with fear and frustration. “Didnt you hear me give the order to return? I cant see a thing with all this mist and rain; well be picked off one by one if we dont move.

Fillchs voice held a note of justifiable complaint in it. “But you was shoutin that order to Graywort, not me!

The vixen kicked out savagely, relishing the squeal of pain that issued from Fillch. “I didnt know Graywort was not here then, idiot. Why didnt you tell me at the time. Youre useless!

But Fillch was not answering. Silvamord turned on him, only to find the horderat pinned to the tree, slain by a barbed shaft from out of the misty deluge. Any vestige of boldness or courage deserted the vixen then, and she turned and ran headlong for the castle.

Her beaded skirt of tails swished wetly against her as, gasping for breath, she pounded onto the woodwork of the lowered drawbridge. Urging one another, the horderats plowed up the steps to the plateau after her.

“Inside, come on, move yourselves. Get inside!

The last rats hurried past Silvamord as Sourgall ran out, holding a scrap of sacking over his head to keep dry. “Majesty, I have a report from Urgan Nagru for you: he says that he regrets to tell you Captain Graywort ...

Silvamord did not hear the rest. She stood rigid, unable to tear her eyes away from the causeway steps up to the plateau. There, standing in a patch of pale watery moonlight, were two creatures returned from the dead.

Rab Streambattle and the badger Muta!

Moonlight glimmered whitely on the terrible scars and lacerations on the bare skin where new rur had not grown. She saw the otters paws rise as he stretched a shaft on his tautened bowstring, and acting instinctively, Silva-mord threw herself flat. Sourgall was still finishing his message as the arrow took his life.

Then Silvamord was dashing into Floret screaming, “Raise the drawbridge! Raise the drawbridge!

As the heavy wooden drawbridge creaked upward the vixen peered around the side of it at the plateau steps. Rab Streambattle and Muta were gone, vanished into the mist and rain like two wraiths out of a nightmare.