The Bellmaker

23

Mariel was far too quick to catch. Vaulting battlements, cutting corners, and slamming doors behind her, she dashed off into the rambling passages of Castle Floret. The mousemaid could hear her pursuers behind her, tripping and stumbling as they hastened to catch her. Skipping nimbly down the dizzying stone steps of a spiral staircase, she ran full tilt into a horderat coming the other way. The mousemaid could not stop herself from barging into the rat; he was taken completely off guard, and with a panicked squeak he toppled backwards, hurtling tip over tail down the stairs. Bruising her paws on the rough-hewn stones, the mousemaid managed to stay upright. She slowed her pace as she approached the rat. He lay crumpled at the bottom of the stairwell, completely senseless. Mariel paused momentarily to relieve him of a sharp, double-headed axe he had thrust in his belt. The sounds of Silvamord and her troop pattering down the stairs kept the mousemaid on the move. Hurtling out down a corridor she cut left and then right, looking wildly about for somewhere to hide.

Nagru had traveled down by a different route, ordering horderats to follow him as he went. “Leave what youre doing, come on, bring your weapons! Threading his way through chamber and hall he rushed onward, with more than a score in his wake. Now Mariel could hear her enemies coming from both sides, still some distance away, but getting closer by the moment. She brandished the axe, looking left and right desperately. There was only one way left to go. Lifting the latch of a door in front of her, she entered. It was a small inner chamber, devoid of windows. Mariel closed the door, noting that it had neither lock nor bolt to protect her. She had run herself into a cul-de-sac, and it was too late to escape now. Taking up a warriors stance, she gripped the axe handle tight, prepared to go down fighting.

Safely on the battlements, Dandin reached out with the pike that Bluebane had been carrying. Meldrum wobbled and swayed as he clung for dear life to the swinging rope. The young mouse called encouragingly to him, “Just a bit more, sir. Come on, swing yourself forward another fraction.

With both eyes shut tight the hare did as he was bidden.

“Gotcha! Dandin hooked the curved pike crosstree into the hem of Meldrums pink mess jacket and pulled him to the battlement. Seizing both the old hares foot-paws, Dandin stretched him over the stone top and took the weight. “You can let go of the rope now, Meldrum! Let go of the rope and open your eyes, thats an order!

The old hare opened one eye, saw he was safe, and clambered down onto the rampart with as much dignity as he could muster. “Incorrect procedure, laddie buck; a subordinate cant give orders to a rankin offisah. Well let it go this time. Well done, well done. Now, whats been goin on round here? Whereve all the bally vermin gone?

Dandin gazed at the rat carcasses and the empty rainswept walltop. “More important, wheres Mariel gone? he said.

The rope was caught on a niche of the battlement. Meldrum began pulling it in and coiling it. “Where dyou think shes gone, bright little gel like that? Escaped, of course, bally well scarpered!

Dandin however was not convinced. “Escaped? How could she have escaped?

“Dont ask me, mlad. Im no expert in these matters, Meldrum said as he fussed with the torn hem of his tunic, “but Ill lay you an acorn to an apple theyve not captured her. Shed have yelled out an warned us.

Dandin peered down. He could barely make out the moat below. “I suppose youre right, sir. Wonder how she got to the moat without the rope, though?

Meldrum the Magnificent snorted through his musta-chios. “Jumped, of course. A young rip like her wouldnt think twice about takin a leap. Good job we dont have to, wot? Wouldnt chance it at my age. Lucky for us weve got the jolly old rope to swarm down, eh!

Dandin still looked doubtful, so Meldrum took command. “Mariel will be furious if she thinks were slandin up here twiddlin our paws all night. Situation calls for decision. Im givin the orders now. Get that rope around mis battlement. Look sharp, now, youre first down! Realizing there was no other sensible course to follow, but still beset by doubts, Dandin doubled the rope about the stones and began his descent to the moat.

A voice startled Mariel as she stood alone in the darkened chamber. “A mouse that fights and runs away, lives to fight another day!

Barely visible in the dim light from under the door, a fat mole clad in a belted shagreen tunic stood watching the mousemaid. “Twittering is for the birds, but earthly creatures heed wise words. Follow me, mousemaid, he said, nodding sociably at her.

The exit appeared to Mariel as a small black hole in a corner, but as she crawled through and watched the mole close it behind them, she realized it was a cunningly hinged stone door, which blended perfectly with the walls about it. Feeling completely safe she followed the mole down dark dusty tunnels, keeping one paw against his back in case she lost him in the gloom. They traveled downward, twisting and turning in the strange moles silent world. Sometimes they passed through cellars and caves, other times they had to bend double and crawl along. They halted at a small, stout-timbered door, whereupon the mole produced a key and opened it.

“This humble abode doth suit me fine, a simple homely place, tis mine.

He turned up the flame on an oil lamp, and yellow light flooded the room. It had a couch which served as a bed, a table, and a big, elm-planked larder cupboard. The whole place was littered with books, scrolls, and parchments. The fat mole bobbed his head politely to her, extending well-groomed digging claws. “I am Egbert the Scholar, and you, I take it, are the escaped prisoner, Mariel.

Questions flooded to Mariels lips as she took Egberts paw and shook it. “Pleased to meet you, Egbert. But how do you know my name, and why do you not speak like other moles?

Egbert sat her down on his sofa bed, then taking a thin tin plate, he placed it on a bracket above the oil lamp and began warming two plump vegetable turnovers. Filling a beaker, he offered it to Mariel. “Dandelion cordialI brew it myself. Drink up, food will soon be ready. As to your questions, Mariel, I know your name and your companions, too. Nothing goes on in Floret that escapes my notice. You were very clever to escape the way you did, extricating yourself from a dire predicamentah, long words, I love the sound of them! As to why I am, who I am, that is a complicated narration, a long story,

“Egbert the Scholar is a name I gave myself. I was once a mole like others, humming and urring and much given to bucolic speech forms. I had a mole name too, something very moleish, Soilburr it was, as I recall. I lived a happy and simple existence with my tribe, east of here, but I thirsted for learning and the ways of the scholar. So I left home and came here, tunneled in and set myself up. Nobeast ever knew I was inside Floret, not Gael or Serena, or that pair of barbarian vermin, Nagru and Silvamord.

Mariel accepted the hot turnover, biting into the pastry and eating ravenously, regardless of the dark aromatic warm gravy that dribbled onto her paws. She spoke around mouthfuls of hot, tender vegetables and pastry crust. “Mmm, slovely! But what do you do here with your life?

Egbert gestured at the files of books and scrolls lining the walls of his little home. “I study to better my knowledge, to improve my powers of learning; one can never have sufficient education. Did you know that the Squir-relking and his family were heirs to an extensive library? Oh yes, a veritable palace of literature, all in one great room. My lifes work is dedicated now to saving it. Those dreadful rats use rare manuscripts and valuable books to light their fires, can you believe it?

“Fortunately I come and go in Floret by my own secret routes. I pop up in the library whenever I can and take away material, though I fear my little abode is getting too small to hold it all. Just look at these scrolls I retrieved today, a treatise on autumn-cloud formations in the southinvaluable!

Egbert paused and smiled apologetically. “Mariel, forgive me for prattling on ceaselessly. I must be boring you to death with my lengthy discourses. Being alone one tends to talk to oneself a lot, but twice as much to visitors like yourself. Is there anything you want? Would you like to take a napyou look tiredor is there any way at all I can help you?

Mariel finished the turnover, washing it down with refreshing dandelion cordial. She stood and picked up her axe. “I must go and help my friends now. They are trapped at the top of the north tower.

Egbert clipped a quaint pair of spectacles to his nose and studied a blueprint of Floret pinned on the wall. “Ah yes, the north tower; very high, extremely perilous. So thats where you got to; I thought you were all lost or slain when you escaped the dungeons. North tower, hmm, not a lot we can do up there, Im afraid. Maybe if you created a diversion in another part of this castle, that would give your comrades time to escape without interference.

Mariel hefted the axe eagerly. “That sounds good, Egbert. What do you suggest?

“Let me apply logic to this problem, the scholar said as he sat on his bed and nibbled at his turnover. “Now, let me see. If you have allies outside, some of the otters, say ... Ah yes, thats it! The drawbridge, find your way into the gatehouse and mess up the mechanism, cut the ropes. Then the drawbridge will fall open, giving easy access to your allies, and Foxwolf will have to defend it with his horde. I should think the last thing hell be worrying about in a case like that is a few escaped prisoners stranded on a towertop ...

Mariel was already holding the door open. “What a great idea! Lead on, Egbertwheres this gatehouse?

“A creature of action I see, a warrior! The scholar put aside his food and arose. “But you cannot do it alone, and I am not a fighter. Follow me and I will take you to where there are other warriors.

Again they were off, Mariel hurrying in Egberts wake, through a succession of tunnels and underground chambers where daylight had never shone. The mousemaid sensed they were moving in a downward direction; she felt a coolness across her nostrils, which she knew could only be the air from outside. After founding a few more bends and climbing over a blockage of rubble and rock, they emerged into a sizeable cavern. The rain outside could be heard pattering and splashing; half the chamber was thick with mist that had rolled in from the valley floor. Egbert sat on a rock, nodding with satisfaction. “Ah, here we are. Hello my friends ... anybeast at home?

A lightning-swift form snatched the axe from Mariel, bowling her over. The mousemaids cry of surprise was squashed from her as two huge paws swept her off the ground, crushing and squeezing unmercifully. Mariel found herself dangling helplessly in the air, staring into a pair of maddened bloodshot eyes ...