The Island of Whispers

by Brendan Gisby

  The dream had broken again. With a start, Twisted Foot opened his eyes, meeting Long Ears’ gaze. It is time, he decided. He rose wearily from the nest. There had been no rest for him, but he was calmer now, more sure of his actions.

  ‘Come to the pool,’ he said to Long Ears. His voice, like his actions, was firm, resolute.

  They made their way to the pool. There was a silence between them, a tautness, Twisted Foot deep in thought, Long Ears in quiet anticipation. As usual at this time of the day, several groups of he-rats clustered near the water’s edge. Twisted Foot chose a quiet spot away from them. The two lapped for some time and then shifted back from the water to crouch close together. Twisted Foot looked round the tunnel, making sure that he would not be overheard. He spoke quietly and forcibly.

  ‘All right, comrade, I will lead you and the others to the land across the water.’

  Long Ears emitted a long sigh of relief, but he said nothing.

  ‘First,’ his companion continued, ‘we must decide who should go with us. They must be our closest comrades. Those we know best and can trust most.’

  He stopped for some moments, rehearsing the details in his mind.

  ‘Fat One, certainly, and Small Face: they will want to go. Narrow Back, too. He is a very nervous and talkative Watcher, I know, but we will need him for the knowledge he possesses.’

  The last remark puzzled Long Ears. Again, though, he stayed silent.

  ‘The others are either too old or not well enough known to us. Besides, we must keep our group small, easy to handle. We will also be taking our mates and our youngsters. Already, our number is large enough.’

  Long Ears nodded his agreement, excitement building within him. Twisted Foot huddled closer. His tone was urgent now.

  ‘Our greatest danger at this time is discovery of our plan. Secrecy is all-important. So this is what we must do. You should speak to Fat One and Small Face. Separately. Not in the lair, where there are too many ears. But here at the pool or on the world above. I will approach Narrow Back. We must do this as soon as possible.

  ‘When the plan is revealed to each of them, we must ensure that only our two names are mentioned. They must not know who their other companions will be, only that there will be a group of us. We must impress on them the consequences of discovery and the need for utter secrecy. Each of us will speak to our mates – again, as soon as possible – but our young ones must not be told until we are ready to leave –’

  ‘When ... when will that be?’ Long Ears interrupted breathlessly.

  ‘I don’t know yet. I don’t know how we will leave. I have still to work out a plan. But it will be very soon, comrade, very soon. Before our mates grow heavy with young. Before the Cold Cycle begins in earnest.’

  Twisted Foot glanced round him. The place was more crowded now, more noisy. He shifted away from Long Ears.

  ‘Watch for my sign,’ he said quickly, ‘then we’ll speak again.’

  He left the pool without Long Ears. He felt cheerful, light-headed, as if a great burden had been lifted from him. He wanted to comfort Grey Eyes; to snuggle close to her and give her his warmth. He would whisper in her ear, tell her of the plan to leave. That would be the greatest comfort.

  – o –

  – Chapter Sixteen –

  Narrow Back was twitching furiously again.

  ‘I’ve found it! I’ve found it!’ he squealed. ‘Come quickly!’

  Twisted Foot gave out a sigh of exasperation and then scrambled over the rocks to join the skinny Watcher.

  Narrow Back’s whole body was quivering. His eyes flashed wildly in the darkness.

  ‘Here!’ he exclaimed. ‘Just here!’

  ‘Sh!’ Twisted Foot snapped. ‘You’ll wake the underworld with your shrieking.’

  His patience had been stretched almost to the limit. He had waited two long days for the opportunity to be alone with Narrow Back. He had volunteered for the watch, intervening on Small Face’s behalf.

  ‘Poor Small Face is not yet fit,’ he had pleaded with Sharp Claws. ‘Let me take his place.’

  They had gone to the point of the island, where Twisted Foot had outlined the plan to Narrow Back. That was when the difficulties began. Narrow Back had behaved like a youngster: prancing, twittering loudly, filled with uncontrollable excitement. With panic rising in him, Twisted Foot had begged his companion to quieten down, had even threatened to leave him behind. It had taken a long time, but gradually Narrow Back became more restrained, his actions more sober.

  The next task proved equally difficult. Twisted Foot had asked Narrow Back to locate the spot where he had spied Broken Tail on the night when the giant came to life.

  ‘It’s very important to our plan,’ he had explained. ‘Broken Tail didn’t just appear from nowhere. There has to be another tunnel – a secret one – out of the underworld.’

  To Twisted Foot’s dismay, the prancing and twittering had begun afresh.

  ‘A secret tunnel?’ Narrow Back shouted. ‘My goodness, a secret tunnel!’

  After another period of pleas and threats, they had set off to find the spot, but Narrow Back’s excitement seemed to have blurred his recollection. With mounting frustration, Twisted Foot had followed the eager Watcher’s zigzag path across the sharp rocks and had listened to his incessant babbling. They were getting nearer the monastery. The watch was drawing to a close; the search more haphazard, the chattering more incoherent. At last, though, Narrow Back had found something.

  Twisted Foot peered anxiously at the cluster of boulders. He was not surprised that the tunnel had gone unnoticed by countless passing Watchers. Its entrance was a long slit, kept permanently dark by the overhang of the largest boulder. Even in daylight the slit would be hard to detect. He understood now why the search had taken so long.

  ‘You did well, comrade,’ he said. The appreciation was genuine; his earlier impatience forgotten.

  Narrow Back looked pleased with himself.

  ‘What now?’ he whispered, trying his utmost to keep his eagerness in check.

  ‘Listen carefully,’ Twisted Foot also whispered. ‘I’m going into the tunnel. I need to be sure where it ends. I’ll be as quick as I can. Stay here and keep watch – quietly. If anything goes wrong, if I don’t ... return, go back to the underworld with the others. Say that I disappeared; nothing else. Remember, nothing else.’

  He was grateful when Narrow Back merely nodded. His companion was suddenly quiet, as if he understood the danger.

  Twisted Foot slid under the boulder and through the slit. The blackness inside was complete. He was alone now and very afraid, but he had to finish this task. The tunnel was much wider than the one which ran from the monastery. Built for the Inner Circle, he surmised; their escape route. Well, with luck, it’ll soon be our escape route.

  He moved cautiously at first. The floor of the tunnel was also much less steep than the other one. He sniffed the dank air. The scent of he-rats was very faint, indicating that the place was seldom used. There was little time to spare. He crept more quickly down the tunnel, but stopped dead after only a few yards. The Protector’s tail was a mere inch away from Twisted Foot’s snout. He held his breath, stayed rigid. The Protector lay with the back half of his body inside the tunnel. The gentle rise and fall of the rump confirmed that his sleep had not been disturbed. Beyond him, inside the lair, two other dozing forms stretched across the tunnel mouth.

  Twisted Foot hadn’t realised how short the distance would be. Very slowly, very quietly, he stepped backwards until the Protector’s tail was out of sight. He halted briefly, listening for movement. He was shaking uncontrollably now, gasping for air. Thankfully, the guards hadn’t stirred, but disaster had been so very close. He turned and scurried back up the tunnel. For once, the outside world would be a welcoming sight.

  Narrow Back’s agitation had returned.

  ‘Well?’ he squealed as Twisted Foot re-emerged.

  ‘Sh!’ Twisted Foot hissed. ‘Not here.’
/>
  They travelled further up the slope. When they reached the monastery wall, Twisted Foot spoke quietly and urgently.

  ‘Listen again, comrade. The tunnel leads into the lair of the Protectors. When we go, we will leave by that tunnel. When the next Assembly takes place, watch for my sign, be ready to follow me. Tell your mate to wait outside the Watchers’ lair. She won’t be alone. There will be others. Tell her to follow them. Now, do you understand all of that? Do you understand that nothing must be said to anyone – only your mate?’

  ‘I understand,’ Narrow Back nodded. ‘But –’ He hesitated now. ‘The tunnel. Isn’t it –’

  ‘Yes, it is guarded. But it won’t be during the Assembly, not when the killing begins. Twice now, I’ve watched the guards come out for the killing. Don’t worry, it will be safe for us.’

  Twisted Foot looked upwards. Ragged patches of light had already infiltrated the leaden sky.

  ‘Come,’ he said. ‘The watch is over. Let’s join the others.’

  They climbed into the monastery. In the midst of the rubble, Narrow Back stopped abruptly. He was still hesitant.

  ‘Just – just one last thing,’ he squeaked. ‘I – I don’t know if I can swim.’

  Twisted Foot cuffed him lightly.

  ‘Neither do I,’ he replied and moved on.

  – o –

  – Chapter Seventeen –

  It was an anxious time for the conspirators. They knew the details of the plan. They knew what was expected of them when the moment came, but the waiting seemed interminable. They knew the perils of their venture, and the horrors which would befall them if their flight was routed, but the waiting magnified their fears, increased their nervousness. The last Assembly took place many days ago. The underworld was growing hungrier. The next Assembly must be imminent.

  In the deep of night, the Watchers’ lair was hushed. Here and there among the rows of sleeping rats, an alert, concerned face gazed into the darkness. Sleep wouldn’t come to them. They kept the vigil, waiting for the Rulers to wake, waiting for the Assembly to be announced.

  Like his fellow plotters, Twisted Foot was restless. As he peered along the nests, he could pick out Long Ears, Small Face, Fat One. All awake, he observed. All here except Narrow Back, who keeps the night watch above. They trust in my leadership. The plan is a good one, I’m sure of it. Once in the Protectors’ lair, we’ll race through the escape tunnel, across the rocks and on into the water. The she-rats in the lair will raise the alarm, of course, but by that time we’ll be far away. There will be no pursuit. Yes, the plan will work, but we must go soon, before fear overcomes our resolve.

  His ears pricked suddenly when he saw old Digger slip into the lair and head straight for Sharp Claws’ nest. There was a brief, murmured conversation, and then Sharp Claws left the lair quickly, with Digger scurrying behind him. Twisted Foot was more alert now. His three companions had turned to look at him, their eyes searching, questioning. Something – something important – had caused Digger to return from the watch. What had happened? Had the giant begun to glow again? Would this be an end to the plan? He felt dismay. Anxiety crowded his thoughts.

  ‘What now, comrade?’ Long Ears whispered to him, but he didn’t reply.

  It seemed like an age before Sharp Claws returned. The Chief Watcher was alone, his expression grim. He marched the length of the lair until he reached Twisted Foot’s nest. He stared coldly at Twisted Foot and then at Long Ears.

  ‘You two,’ he boomed. ‘Come with me. You’re needed for a special watch.’

  Twisted Foot’s heart sank, his hopes with it. Before he left the nest, he nuzzled into Grey Eyes. He sensed her fear.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back.’

  They followed Sharp Claws out to the Common lair. Broken Tail waited there with a group of Protectors.

  ‘Come with us,’ he growled. ‘The Chamberlain will have words with you.’

  The Protectors quickly surrounded the two young Watchers. As the group moved off, Twisted Foot glanced back in panic. Sharp Claws was returning to the Watchers’ lair. He looked old and sad, his eyes staring blankly at the ground. It was then that Twisted Foot realised the full terror of their predicament.

  Terror had also set into Long Ears.

  ‘Oh, no,’ he squealed and began to tremble.

  Twisted Foot pressed closer to his companion.

  ‘Stay brave, comrade,’ he whispered, although he knew that his own courage was rapidly deserting him.

  – o –

  – Chapter Eighteen –

  As if in a daze, they stumbled along between their captors, passing briskly through the Protectors’ lair and on into the sanctum of the Rulers. The guards took them to the centre of the floor and then retreated to block off the entrance tunnel. Broken Tail remained close behind the captives.

  Long Snout squatted opposite the Watchers, glowering fiercely at them. Behind him, the Inner Circle rats looked out expectantly from their nests, like avid spectators hungry for sport to commence. On Long Snout’s right, several Protectors crouched in a half-circle round a pool of blood. A lifeless, unrecognisable bundle of raw flesh and matted fur lay in the blood.

  Long Snout stirred, baring his fangs, directing his words at the Watchers.

  ‘So,’ he hissed, ‘here are the other brave warriors who wish to leave our society.’

  The bundle shifted momentarily. It emitted a gasp of agony. Two glazed, pain-filled eyes opened, took in the scene and closed again.

  ‘I’m sorry, comrades,’ the bundle wheezed.

  Long Snout nodded. A Protector dug into the heaving form at his feet, tearing away another strip of bloody fur. Narrow Back’s shriek filled the lair. His body shuddered for some moments and then became still again.

  A spasm of fear jerked Long Ears. Urine trickled from beneath him. Twisted Foot didn’t move. Instead, his eyes fixed on Long Snout, matching the Chamberlain’s cold glare. He hadn’t killed before – that action was the exclusive domain of the Hunters and Protectors – but he could gladly kill now. Hate occupied his thoughts, keeping his own terror at bay.

  Long Snout continued.

  ‘Yes,’ he sneered, ‘your comrade – this pile of dung – has told us all about your plot. Tonight, the fool came blundering into the Protectors’ lair. He came through the sacred tunnel. Your escape tunnel, warriors. As you can see, it was not too difficult to get him to reveal his secrets.’

  He looked over to the guards by the tunnel.

  ‘Get this useless creature out of here,’ he commanded. ‘Take it back to the Watchers’ lair. Let it serve as a lesson for Sharp Claws and his traitorous scum.’

  Two guards scurried across to Narrow Back. They proceeded to prod and nip him until he was conscious again.

  ‘Move!’ one of them screamed.

  Slowly, painfully, Narrow Back slithered along the ground. Streaks of blood marked his tortured progress. He halted several times, and each time the prodding and biting were renewed. Finally, their patience gone, the guards grabbed at his flesh and dragged him, screaming and pleading, the rest of the distance out of the lair.

  Long Snout turned his attention to the remaining Watchers.

  ‘Now for the two other fools,’ he spat. ‘You! The small one with the big ears! Tell me who leads this plot. Give me the names of its members.’

  Long Ears squirmed forward on his belly. He stared at the ground in front of the Chamberlain.

  ‘Me!’ he squeaked. ‘It was my idea, Chamberlain. I am the leader. There are only three of us.’

  ‘Silence!’ screamed Long Snout.

  Two Protectors rushed up to the trembling Watcher. Each took hold of one of his ears, pulling hard, tearing the flesh. The pain was excruciating; the squeals high-pitched and deafening.

  ‘Now the truth!’ Long Snout shouted over the din.

  Twisted Foot continued to stare at the Chamberlain, the lust to kill even stronger now.

  ‘He lies. I am the leader.’
The words were uttered boldly, with no hint of fear.

  The attack on Long Ears stopped. The Chamberlain stooped down, bringing his snout closer to Twisted Foot.

  ‘Yes, you,’ he hissed. ‘The little cripple.’

  He stepped back again and then suddenly lashed out with one of his front claws, slashing the Watcher across the top of the head. Twisted Foot stifled the scream. He tried to maintain his stare, but blood blurred his vision and stung his eyes.

  Broken Tail stepped up from behind and seized the Watcher’s neck in his jaws. Twisted Foot felt the fangs bite deep, his life slipping away. He had to struggle to speak.

  ‘But there are ... only three of us ...’ he gasped through the pain. ‘Long Ears ... Narrow Back ... and me ...’

  Broken Tail’s grip eased slightly. Long Snout appeared again through a red haze. Twisted Foot could barely hear the words.

  ‘Put the traitors in with the slaves. They will be executed – slowly – during the Assembly. Their torment will be an example for the whole of the Outer Circle.’

  – o –

  – Chapter Nineteen –

  Belcher saw them first.

  ‘Visitors,’ he said to Slayer.

  Both Slayer and Slasher interrupted their feast to look down at the entrance tunnel. They recognised the huge frame of the Master. A group of the Master’s underlings squatted some way behind him.

  Slayer spat out a small bone.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he ordered.

  The three Scavengers climbed down from the high ledge. The wall was nearly perpendicular, but their descent was swift and nimble. As soon as they were far enough away, others on the ledge pounced noisily on the half-eaten carcass of the young she-slave.