The Various (16 page)

Lumst had no chance. The great tom-cat was without fear, and wholly aggressive. The cowardly blood of foxes did not run in Tojo’s veins – nor did the quality of mercy. He launched himself at the doomed intruder who dared block his way. The noise was dreadful. There was not a living creature for a quarter of a mile that didn’t wake in fright at the sound of Tojo, wreaking his vengeance beneath the hazy summer moon – his blood-curdling yowl, and the cries of his victim, causing innocent sleepers, animal and human, to start up, wide-eyed, from the jagged shards of their broken dreams.

Grissel and Spindra, horrified at the ferocious sound of the attack, quickly realized that it was Lumst who was the likely victim. Quaking with terror, they forced themselves to peer around the door of the stable. They were in time to see a monstrous animal, a creature such as they could never have imagined, dragging the lifeless form of its prey towards the end
of
the row of outbuildings. The thing paused for a moment and turned, instinctively looking in their direction – the pale moon momentarily reflected in its baleful glare. Unspeakable evil seemed held in that brief look. Then a light appeared in the dwelling opposite and the animal vanished.

Tojo had no wish to come under investigation in a confined space. It had happened before when he had caught a bantam cockerel, and had been cornered in his den, taking a blow across the back from a yard-broom as a consequence. There were other places, more secluded, where he could go. He disappeared into the night, still emitting a low siren wail from his heavily burdened jaws.

Grissel, to his credit, and notwithstanding the horror of what he had seen, was prepared to give chase. He hastily began to unsling his bow. At that moment however, the front door of the farmhouse opened and a Gorji giant emerged, waving a beam of light. The light cut through the night in the direction of the fleeing assassin. A hound barked.

Grissel instantly backed towards the stable door, bumping into Spindra who was just behind him. They stumbled in a panic back into the darkness of the stable, quickly burying themselves beneath the hay. Grissel tried to choke back a sneeze.

When the peaceful silence of the kitchen was suddenly rent by Tojo’s first vengeful yowl, Pank instinctively grabbed at Tod’s shoulder in fright. The two looked frantically about them, for it seemed in that instant that
they
themselves were under attack. As the terrible noise increased, they blundered through the awkward jumble of chair and table legs in an attempt to gain the hallway once more and escape. However, the caterwauling was so sustained that the sleeping hound had been awakened. It staggered to its feet with a low bark, and walked stiffly over to the front door. It sniffed the cat flap, turned its head to face the staircase, and barked again. The woodlanders’ escape route was blocked, and they backed silently into the kitchen once more, trapped and panic stricken. Where could they hide?

Gorji voices could now be heard, and heavy feet began to descend the wooden staircase. A child’s voice – ‘What is it Uncle Brian? What’s happening?’ Then the deeper tones of a man, angry and loud – ‘I’ll tell you what’s happening – it’s that damn cat, again. Tojo is what’s happening – and if he has got hold of another of my bantams, then he may catch a brick behind the ear. Where’s the torch? Any idea?’ The heavy footsteps had reached the bottom of the stairs.

‘Under the sink.’

‘Under the
sink
? What the devil’s it doing there? All
right
, Phoebe! Shut
up
! See if you can find it, will you, Midge, while I get my wellies on.’

The kitchen was suddenly flooded with light and the sound of bare feet came padding across the red brick floor. Beneath the sink, Tod and Pank crouched fearfully among the strange-smelling containers. The small curtain was lifted and a great pale arm reached in, fumbling around their hiding place. Pank, head low, shivering with fright, flinched as the groping
fingers
of the Gorji chi’ touched his shoulder. He was discovered! The hand brushed the outside of his cloth jerkin – he could feel the slight pressure of knuckles against his ribs.

‘Got it!’ said the child’s voice – and the curtain was lowered once again. The light footsteps crossed the room once more, and the man spoke again from the hallway.

‘Well done. Let’s see what’s going on.’

Grissel and Spindra raised their heads from the musty smelling hay and tried to interpret what was happening outside from the noises they could hear. The booted footsteps of the giant had disappeared at the far end of the buildings. Presently they heard his voice shouting as he returned.

‘Well, Tojo’s gone. Lord knows where. No point in running around in the dark looking for him, that’s for certain. Come on, Phoebe. Phoebe! Come
on
! There’s nothing down there for you.
Now
what’s she up to? Oh, all right then, let’s have a look.’

Phoebe was snuffling her way along the line of stables. The old spaniel may have been going deaf, but her nose was as good as ever – and it was picking up all sorts of strange signals. Grissel and Spindra buried themselves in the hay once more as the click and scratch of the hound’s claws on the exposed cobbles drew closer, and the insistent snuffling grew louder. Presently the dog entered the stable where they lay. They could hear it sniffing the floor where they had lately been standing. Grissel’s eyes were streaming. He
held
his nose and fought back the sneeze rising within him. The resonant clump of rubber boots, and the searching beam of light, told the fugitives that the Gorji had now arrived.

‘See?’ said the loud voice, letting the light play around the mildewed walls. ‘Nothing here. It’s empty, you daft old thing. Come on then, daftie. Let’s go.’ His voice boomed in the shadowy confines of the stable.

Phoebe was unconvinced. She had been a half-decent gun dog in her day, and she still knew a thing or two. Raising her head towards the mess of hay piled high at the back of the stable, she approached it, snuffling softly. She paused, moved slightly to her right, then returned to her original position. Another snuffle. Yes, she knew. She pushed her head deep into the hay.

The soft muzzle came thrusting unerringly towards where Grissel lay hidden. The shock was so great that the Ickri let go of his nose in an attempt to defend himself – and instantly sneezed. Phoebe opened her mouth to give a triumphant bark, but then she sneezed as well. And again. And again. She withdrew her head from the dusty hay, sneezed once more, and looked up at Uncle Brian, expectantly. The man laughed.

‘You
silly
old sausage,’ he said. ‘Now look at the state of you. Come on, then. Told you there was nothing there.’

Grissel and Spindra were lucky. There was little of the fox’s predatory instinct in Phoebe – and none of Tojo’s malevolence. She was simply curious – and
she
had been right. There
was
something there. The fact that her master had chosen to let it be was of no consequence. She had done her job. She looked towards the pile of hay once more, gave a low woof, and then followed the man contentedly as he clumped back across the yard towards the farmhouse doorway where the girl still waited, framed in the light and shivering slightly in the cool night air.

An hour later, when all seemed quiet and their beating hearts had calmed a little, Grissel and Spindra emerged from their hiding place and crept once more to the stable door. The two were horribly shocked at the fate of poor Lumst, and stood uncertainly in the doorway, wondering what they should do.

‘We must look for him,’ said Grissel. ‘He may yet be alive.’

But the words sounded hollow and hopeless, and Spindra replied, ‘No. Lumst has gone. ’Tis no use to go after him. We should end up the same way.’

‘Then we must wait for the others, as we planned,’ said Grissel. There seemed little else they could do, and so, having quickly glanced about the farmyard, they ran across the cobbles to the plough once more and crawled beneath it. Here, to their surprise, they found Tod and Pank already hiding amongst the weeds. The Wisp and the Tinkler had waited in the farmhouse kitchen until they judged the hound to be asleep once more – which hadn’t taken all that long – and then exited by the little door as quickly and quietly as they could, their nerves in tatters. To add to
their
troubles, Pank had then twisted his ankle as he dropped from the balustrade wall onto the cobbles. A loose stone had shifted treacherously as he landed upon it, and though fear had propelled him onwards to the relative safety of their hiding place, it became clear that he would not be able go much further – this night at least.

Now he sat nursing the rapidly swelling joint, rocking gently back and forth, and biting his lip with pain.

‘Where’s Lumst?’ he whispered shakily, almost before Grissel and Spindra had manoeuvred themselves into the space beneath the plough. Grissel and Spindra, still wide eyed with the horror of what they had seen, shook their heads in silence.

‘What’s befallen him?’ said Tod. ‘Did you see?’

‘We did,’ said Spindra, quietly. ‘And I hopes
never
to see such a thing again. ’Twas . . . dretful. Dretful. Some gurt thing – I don’t know what ’twas . . .’ He took a deep breath. ‘Some . . . beast . . . with eyes like . . . aach.’ He groaned and covered his face with his hands, unable to go on.

‘ ’Twas a felix, wasn’t it?’ said Tod. ‘What the Gorji calls a cat. I knew it – guessed it right enough – though I never saw one close to, before. I’ve heard ’em spoken of.’

‘A felix?’ breathed Pank, still clasping his ankle. ‘Be there such things, then?’ He had some distant memory of the mention of these mythical creatures, for that was what they were to the Tinklers – ancient myths, tales handed down from their ancestors, stories from the almanacs. Tales of beasts who lived in strange
dwellings
– pirrymids? – who could see in the dark, and had teeth and claws like huge tinsy-knives . . . a felix. He had not heard the word since childhood. And now they had left their pirrymids, apparently, to live among the Gorji, who called them . . . cat. What other terrible things might not the Gorji harbour among them? And Lumst, his poor friend Lumst, was
dead
? Killed by a felix?

‘No!’ he shouted, distraught, ‘No! No!’

Tod grasped Pank firmly by the shoulders. ‘Shh!’ he hissed. ‘Do you mean to bring the thing upon us all?’

‘No,’ said Pank, more quietly, and then dropped his head in desolation. The pain of his injury, and the shock of the night’s events were making him feel sick. ‘No. But my friend. My friend . . .’ He raised his face, now streaming with tears, and turned on Grissel. ‘Where were
you
,’ he hissed, ‘when this happened? Where were
you
?’

‘We were in the near barns,’ said Spindra. ‘Grissel and me. Lumst had gone to the further barns, alone. We thought ’twould be quicker to divide. When we heard the noise, we ran to see – Grissel were ready to follow, but then the Gorji came running too, and we had to hide again. ’Twere too late by then, anyhow,’ he said sadly. ‘ ’Twere all over in a few moments. But,’ he added, quietly, ‘ ’twere our blame right enough. We should never have divided.’

‘
My
blame,’ said Grissel. ‘For though ’twere Lumst who made suggestion that we separate, I should never have agreed to it. I should
never
have agreed.’ He grasped the well-worn centre grip of his bow, and
continued
, his voice rising in anger. ‘And I be willing to hunt down this
felix
even now. Precious little good it would do our companion, but I s’d dearly love to put an arrow through that evil eye, and bring him to agony. Just let me find him, and give him pain for pain – and ’twould be worth the risking.’

‘No,’ said Tod. ‘ ’Twould not. For you’d risk us all – and discovery by the Gorji to boot.’ He thought for a few moments, then said, ‘We stuck our heads up for this task, and we all knew ’twere likely to be a dangerous one. ’Tis no one’s fault that Lumst is gone. But gone he is, and now here’s Pank with a crock foot. Aye, that’s right,’ he said, seeing that Grissel and Spindra had not even noticed this latest complication, ‘sprung his ankle. So what do us do now? Do us try to carry on across the wetlands to the Far Woods, or do us go back to the Royal Forest?’ He looked up at the sky. ‘ ’Tis moon-wax, and we’ve lost ground. I don’t believe we could reach the Gorji woods by sunrise, even if Pank were walking straight, and after sunrise it’d be too late. We don’t want to be caught on open land by day. I reckon we must bide in these byres till tomorrow night, and then go on, or go back. Thass if the felix don’t get us all first.’ This last thought brought a listening silence upon the little group, but all they could hear was the tick of a lone bat, high above them, as it wheeled and patrolled the moonlit yard, hunting for insects.

Chapter Ten

MIDGE HAD FOUND
it difficult to get back to sleep after the excitement was over. She wondered what Tojo had caught. The cat was just horrible, and she half wished that Uncle Brian had found the wretched thing and bounced a brick off its head, as he had threatened to do.