The Urchin of the Riding Stars (28 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

EEDLE, WHO HAD WORKED LATE INTO THE NIGHT
, struggled to stay awake during the speeches. The offerings of gifts to the king had been made, and now Captain Granite was speaking in a boring drone as if he had learned his speech by heart and didn’t understand it. Hedgehogs had curled up to rest. Some of the moles had slipped away down tunnels. Otters basked in the sunshine, and even the squirrels were yawning. This wouldn’t do. Padra needed them to be wide awake.

“King Brushen has been a great king…” droned on Captain Granite. Needle shuffled from her place and wriggled through the crowds.

“Ouch!” said a mole.

“Ooh!” said a hedgehog.

“Sorry,” said Needle, but she wasn’t. It was useful to be so sharp. She wove her way through the animals, jostling and prickling everyone she met. They didn’t like it, but it kept them awake. Over a mole muttering “Tell that hedgehog to sit down” came the dull voice of Captain Granite.

“When King Brushen can no longer bear the burden of being our king, we can rely on Captain Husk. Sadly, this time is very near.”

Needle stared in astonishment and looked around to see if the other animals were as shocked as she was. Some were staring with open mouths as if they ought to protest, but didn’t know what to say. But others were nodding in agreement. They’d seen how ill the king was. It was only reasonable to let him abdicate. Husk would be a good king. Come to think of it, King Brushen hadn’t been all that good. He’d given them work parties and culling. He would have rationed the food if Captain Husk hadn’t stopped him. And wouldn’t Lady Aspen be a lovely queen?

Many more animals seemed hardly to have noticed. They were too bored, or snoring on the tables.

Granite sat down. There was some polite clapping of paws and a hiccup from a sleeping baby otter.

A hedgehog stood up and announced, “Mistress Tay to speak next.”

There was a long pause. “Mistress Tay?” he said again.

Guards scuttled about, looking for Tay. Animals suddenly realized that something interesting was happening, and sat up. Someone was sent to the tower to find her, but Tay still did not appear.

Needle stretched up on her hind paws to see the dais. Husk and Padra sat, absolutely calm, with nothing on their faces but polite interest.

Inside, Husk seethed with anger. This was not what he had planned. Tay had promised evidence that would have Padra arrested for treason on the spot. The king would be distressed, so he would be taken gently back to the tower with Brother Fir to look after him. Then, with all of them out of the way, Husk only needed to claim the crown, and the animals would give it.

Padra hoped he looked perfectly calm. He had no idea what had happened to Tay. He suspected that this was part of Husk’s plan, and that Tay would suddenly stride up to the dais claiming that he’d murdered somebody, or tried to burn down the tower. He remembered telling Crispin to keep his nerve. Now he told it to himself. Guards were reporting back to Husk, but none of them had news of Tay.

“I see,” said Husk thoughtfully, and leaned over to talk to Padra. Granite moved in closer. So did Fir.

“What can we do?” said Husk. “Padra can’t speak until Tay’s had her turn. I’m afraid we’ll have to cancel your speech, Padra.”

“But, Captain Husk,” said Fir mildly. “You can’t speak until after Captain Padra. So it seems that none of you can make a speech.”

“Perhaps we should send the animals home,” said Husk. He had looked forward to his triumph, but it could wait for another day.

“Without your speech?” said Fir. “Dear, dear me! How could we? They’re looking forward so much to hearing you, Husk. Padra won’t take long, will you, Padra?”

Padra had slipped down from his chair. He knelt at the king’s paws and looked up into the sad, puzzled face of the king he still loved, and still served.

“Your Majesty?” he said.

“His Majesty is not well,” said Aspen quickly. She offered him his flask, and he drank deeply.

The king looked down and saw Padra’s kind face smiling up at him. The cold water helped to clear his head.
Padra the Plodder. Good fellow.

“Do you command me to make my speech now, Your Majesty?” said Padra.

“Speech? Of course I do, Padra!” said the king, and raised his voice. “I command Captain Padra to speak!”

Husk snarled very softly. Padra walked to the front of the dais. Needle, watching from the front of the crowd, was aware of a shuffling behind and around her. The Anemone Wooders were moving to their places.

“Good creatures of Mistmantle,” said Padra, “Your Majesty, Lady Aspen, Captain Husk, Captain Granite, Brother Fir. I won’t keep you long, and I promise not to bore you.”

There was no chance of being bored now. Since Tay had failed to appear, the animals had woken up. Something was going on.

“Some years ago,” began Padra, “when the culling law was first established, a small squirrel was carried to the tower. She was very tiny, hardly feeding at all, and struggling to breathe, and there were those who thought she should be culled. Crispin, Fir, and I made the point that the squirrel had been born the day before the culling law was made. The king agreed that only animals born after that date could be culled. If she had been born a day later she would have been killed, but she lived. Today, she sang to you. Her name is Sepia.”

A murmur ran through the animals. Husk growled.

“Since then,” said Padra, “it has concerned me that some very noble animals were too eager to cull. If culling is the king’s law, no animal should be culled without his express command.”

Husk’s eyes were fixed on Padra’s back. He stamped his hind paw on the dais.

Padra nodded to Arran, who stood in front of the dais. She carried the new baby otter in one paw and in the other, wriggling a little and poking his tongue out, was Needle’s brother Scufflen. Needle’s spines bristled with tension.

Oh, Heart, Heart, Heart
, she prayed silently.
Protect him, protect him.

She found she was holding her breath. Padra gently took Scufflen from Arran’s paws, smoothing the spines that were not yet sharp. He knelt beside the king.

“Your Majesty,” he said. “This animal was condemned to death simply for being small, with the slightest curling on a hind paw. And the otter, she’s not deformed at all, but an order was given for her death.”

The king bent over Scufflen, picked him up, sat him on his knee, and smiled down at him. His eyes were wet.

“Oh, Heart love 'im!” said Apple’s voice from the crowd. There was a little laughter and a murmur of approval.

“Your Majesty,” said Padra, raising his voice. “Did you order the killing of these animals?”

“Certainly not!” growled the king.

“The poor king cannot be expected to deal with every little culling!” exclaimed Aspen.

“Little culling!” said Padra handing the animals back to Arran. “Is the death of an animal a little thing? If the king does not command them, who does?” He rounded on the crowd. “Do you know who does? Shall I tell you? All this culling is Captain Husk’s idea, not the king’s! The harsh work parties, too—do you think that idea comes from the king? These are Husk’s orders! The king appears before you today, wretched and pitiable, because that is how Captain Husk has made him! You think you’ve had a fine feast because Husk provided it, but Husk wanted to ration your food all winter. Arran the otter has managed the food stores; that’s who you should thank for your feast!”

The animals were all on their hind paws. Ears twitched; eyes were bright. A ring of hedgehogs and otters had gathered around the dais, closing very gradually round Husk and the king. Needle edged closer to Arran.

“What would you have eaten if the food had been rationed?” went on Padra. “What could you find? Beech leaves?” He whirled around to face Husk. “Would animals have eaten beech leaves, Captain Husk? Is that why you stored them? Beech leaves, like the ones we used for the casting of lots, when Crispin was found guilty of murder?”

The king struggled to stand. Lady Aspen leaped up.

“The king is distressed!” she cried.

“The king is angry,” said Padra. “Arran, stay with him, please.”

“Easier said than done,” muttered Arran. “I’ve got my arms full of babies. Needle, hold that.” She pushed Scufflen into Needle’s paws, and gave the little otter to its mother. Followed by two hedgehogs, she climbed onto the dais, with a withering glare at Aspen.

Padra raised his voice above the snarling animals. “A beech leaf bearing Crispin’s mark was taken from the bag,” he said. “Captain Husk took it upon himself to draw the lots. Some weeks later, on the night of Husk’s wedding, more beech leaves were found in the chest where our robes are kept. These, too, had Crispin’s mark!”

Needle found she was holding Scufflen too tightly. Very gently, the two hedgehogs took Husk’s paws and held on to them. There were hedgehogs on either side of Aspen and Granite, too. Claws curled. Teeth were bared. Husk’s face was set, tight and terrifying with rage.

“How did they get there?” demanded Padra. “Had they somehow fallen in? It’s easily done!” He slipped a paw into the cuff of his robe. “It’s easy, isn’t it, to slip leaves into a cuff, or out again! That token wasn’t in the bag, was it, Husk? It was in your cuff!” And as he held the leaves high, the whole community of Mistmantle stared up at them. It was as if they were seeing a vision.

The growling rose louder, but Needle found she was breathing more easily. Padra had done it. It would be all right.

Padra held up a paw to keep the crowd from rushing forward, but his other paw was on his sword hilt. He knelt before the king.

“Your Majesty,” he said, “I call for the arrest of Captain Husk.”

“Arrest Husk!” roared the king.

Husk’s hind paw beat on the dais again. The hedgehogs led him away. With a swish, Granite drew his sword—then from the back of the crowd came a shriek; a cry rang from somewhere else; the dais trembled; and the battle began.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

HERE DID THEY COME FROM
? Moles poured from tunnels; squirrels sprang down from trees and up from rocks; there were otters and hedgehogs among them, and with battle cries they swarmed to the dais. Everywhere, sharp swords whirled and daggers flashed; but, more than that, there were such helmets and breastplates as had never been seen on Mistmantle. Scattering the woodlanders, the attackers rushed for the dais. Under Lugg’s command, Padra’s hedgehogs stood firm, their needles bristling, their swords high. Needle pressed Scufflen’s head down and ran, covering his eyes and ears as best as she could to keep the cries of war from him. Through the shouting and clanging of weapons she heard Fir’s cry of “treachery!”and Padra’s of “Look to the king!” Running, she reached the sandy soil near the dais, ducked behind a rock, and put Scufflen down.