‘Our new currency,’ she said, placing it tenderly in his paw.
Whisker nodded in recognition. He’d received three similar coins from Rat Bait following their adventure on the Island of Destiny. They had originally come from the mysterious fox, as part of his trade for Whisker’s parent’s boat. Whisker had used one of the coins to pay for the half-time refreshments and the other two coins lay at the bottom of his drawstring bag.
As Whisker stared at the coin, Athena adjusted her black-framed glasses and launched into a detailed history lesson.
‘Imagine this coin was a map. The four main villages of our island, when joined by straight lines, form a perfect diamond.’ She leant across and pointed to the left tip of the diamond. ‘Our village is there, in Western Freeforia. The new gold mine is in the volcano region at the centre of the island – where you can see the two paws. The volcano is shared by all four provinces. As our tribal chief, Papa Niko was given one of the first chests of gold six weeks ago, with the promise of more to come …’
‘Hang on,’ Whisker broke in, ‘Do you mean to say the currency is only six weeks old?’
‘That’s right,’ Athena replied. ‘The coins are yet to be in full circulation.’
Whisker took a moment to gather his thoughts. So the fox must have visited Freeforia sometime after the cyclone. And if he was there, and my parents’ boat fell into his possession, then …
‘Athena,’ he exclaimed. ‘Have there been any recent sightings of strangers in Freeforia? Three rats. One male and one female and their young daughter. Somewhere near the coast …’
She shook her head. ‘No. The only arrivals in the last few months were mine workers, and none of them were rats.’
‘Are you sure?’ Whisker gasped. ‘What about the other provinces?’
‘I-I can’t be certain,’ she said, fumbling with her glasses. ‘Freeforia is a big island.’
Overwhelmed by desperation, Whisker turned to the other sisters. ‘What about you, Hera – and you, Aphrodite? Surely you’ve seen something.’
The two rats stopped their bickering and looked at him with confusion in their eyes.
‘TELL ME!’ he shouted, suddenly losing control ‘You’ve got to tell me. I have to know. WHERE ARE THEY?’
‘Whisker, you’re scaring me,’ Aphrodite trembled. ‘I haven’t seen anything. None of us have.’
‘But,’ Whisker began, ‘they have to be …’ He felt a firm paw on his shoulder and cut himself short.
‘Easy does it, lad,’ Rat Bait murmured. ‘Yer frightenin’ the wee lasses. How ‘bout we take a li’l walk while ye calm down?’
Before Whisker could say anything, Rat Bait placed a second paw on his shoulder and began guiding him out of the dressing room. Neither of them spoke as they trudged down the dark tunnel. Ahead of them, the warm morning sunshine streamed through the narrow entrance on the outskirts of the stadium.
The moment Whisker stepped into the light, he felt a wave of exhaustion pass over him. All the sleepless nights, all the gruelling training sessions, all the stress of searching for his family seemed to implode on him at once. Embarrassed and ashamed, he slumped to the ground and closed his eyes.
‘I made a fine fool out of myself, didn’t I?’ he muttered.
‘Aye, that ye did,’ Rat Bat replied. ‘But don’t ye be worryin’. It happens to the best o’ us. We all know yer heart’s in the right place, Whisker, but ye have to be patient.’
‘I know,’ Whisker said, drawing a deep breath. ‘I’m just sick of feeling helpless.’
Rat Bait curled up the corner of this mouth. ‘Those be familiar words, me boy. I was a youthful an’ headstrong rat just like ye.’
Whisker opened one eye and peered up at the old rogue.
‘That’s right,’ Rat Bait chuckled. ‘I was once young – an’ reckless too. I be convinced I could take on the world an’ all it could throw at me despite what me elders said.’
‘So what did you do?’ Whisker asked with sudden interest.
‘I said rotten pies to the lot o’ them!’ Rat Bait exclaimed. ‘I sailed an’ fought an’ conquered an’ proved meself to everyone and everythin’…’ His voice drifted off and he let out a long sigh. ‘The funny thing be, I spent too much time provin’ and not enough time carin’. Before I realised the error of me ways, I was an empty shell of a rat – driftin’ on a sea of self-pity – a million miles from anywhere that mattered …’
‘But you got a second chance,’ Whisker said, ‘– on the island. You started caring again. We all saw it.’
‘Aye,’ Rat Bait said pensively. ‘That I did. An’ it feels good to be among friends again.’ He looked Whisker straight in the eye. ‘Some things can be salvaged in life, me lad; other things are lost forever. Regardless o’ what ye’re searchin’ for, don’t ye forget what ye have right here. They’re good folk, all of ’em – yer crew, them Freeforians, the Hermit, even Granny Rat.’
‘I won’t forget,’ Whisker said. ‘I promise –’
The conversation was interrupted by a loud squawk, followed by several vicious snarls from the Death Ball arena.Rat Bait twitched his ears and glanced up at the massive structure.
‘Sounds like the second pool game’s startin’,’ he murmured.
‘Who’s playing?’ Whisker asked, as a mighty cheer echoed down the tunnel.
‘Cat Fish versus Penguin Pirates,’ Rat Bait said, pulling Whisker to his feet. ‘An’ if ye want me honest opinion, them penguins don’t stand a chance.’
Gladiators
Day Two of the Centenary Games began under the changing hues of a glorious autumn sky. Orange-rimmed clouds drifted high overhead, merging and separating into new shapes as they moved across the purple heavens.
Whisker reached the newly nicknamed ‘leaning tower of pirates,’ as Baron Gustave was finishing his announcement.
‘ … Due to ze large number of concussions suffered by ze penguins in zeir eighteen-nil defeat to ze Cat Fish, today’s event of Hand-to-Hand Combat vill commence at 3 pm. All teams are to nominate two candidates for a gladiator-style contest. Ze goal of zis event is to force ze other fighters out of ze centre circle. Ze last competitor left standing in ze circle vill be ze vinner …’
Following the announcement, Whisker departed for a much needed bath in the waterhole. Refreshed, he returned to the athletes’ village, almost colliding with Mama Kolina and her three daughters outside the supply tent.
‘H-hi,’ he stammered, skidding to a halt.
Mama Kolina handed him a basket of bread and berries.
‘I’ve brought you breakfast,’ she said with a smile. ‘I hope you like raspberries.’
‘Sure,’ Whisker replied. ‘Thanks. They look great … you really didn’t have to.’
Mama Kolina raised her paws to silence him. ‘It was no trouble. My daughters and I are always happy to help.’
The three girls nodded affectionately.
‘Horace told me all about your family,’ Mama Kolina continued. ‘I am very sorry. When we return home, Papa Niko will ask the tribal leaders for their assistance. If your parents and sister have landed on our island, we will find them. I give you my word.’
‘Thanks,’ Whisker said, overwhelmed by her kindness. ‘I’m sorry for yesterday. I shouldn’t have …’
‘Yesterday is over,’ Mama Kolina said. ‘Today has its own battles.’
As she turned to leave, Whisker noticed Ruby at the edge of the village, walking towards the tents. When she caught sight of him, surrounded by the three sisters, she abruptly changed direction and headed for the tavern.
After breakfast, the Pie Rats assembled in the supply tent to discuss their nominations for the afternoon’s event. Ruby spent the whole time sharpening her swords and refused to make eye contact with Whisker.
‘We need candidates who display a good mix of strength and skill,’ Granny Rat said. ‘If we exclude the pipsqueaks, brittle-bones and tremble-tails of the crew, we’re left with our number one swor
ds-rat, Ruby, and our resident giant, Fred. My boy, Black Rat was an option but Fred here is ugly enough to scare half the opponents out of the ring with a single wink of his eye.’
Horace tapped Fred’s massive tattooed arm with his hook and whispered, ‘She means that in the nicest possible way.’
Fred simply grunted and picked up his huge fighting fork.
‘The Hermit and I will be conducting a training session in the forest,’ Granny Rat said, addressing the two candidates. ‘On the off chance that you’re disarmed during the fight, you’ll need a few rat-fu moves up your grubby sleeves.’
‘Yes, yes,’ the Hermit said, striking an elaborate pose. ‘Hermit teach you desert island defence strategies.’
‘Don’t go showing off, dear,’ Granny Rat said, ushering him through the doorway. ‘You’re hardly a black belt.’
Several hours later, when the candidates returned from their training session, it was clear that Ruby’s bad mood had only become worse. Granny Rat had suggested a watch-and-wait strategy for the contest and the thought of being a passive bystander during a sword fight grated on Ruby’s nerves. She was still fuming at the decision when the twelve combatants assembled inside the large painted circle in the Death Ball arena. Standing back-to-back in a quiet area of the circle. Ruby and Fred watched their adversaries heckling and taunting one another.
The roughest of the rough had been selected to participate and it was no surprise that Captain Sabre and Furious Fur took centre stage. Opposite the knife-wielding cats stood Bartholomew Brawl and Tuffy. Red-raw around their mouths from the hot chilli episode, the two dogs held club-like bones in their paws and growled menacingly at the cats.
Two toads in uniforms reading WART FACE and ALGAE ANN hopped around on their back legs, clutching long stalks of cane and croaking, ‘Prepare to be toad-ally annihilated!’
The most theatrical display came from the Marvellous Marmosets.
Sir Mecks sat squarely on the back of Jester Mimp and charged around the circle like a knight on horseback. Hanging from the end of his gold striped lance, the royal flag fluttered majestically in the light breeze. The jingling of Mimp’s bells gave the whole event a strange festive appeal.
The fairy penguins appeared to be the least threatening of the competitors. Covered in bandages from their Death Ball defeat, they had considerable difficulty stopping their icicle swords from melting in the warm sun.
‘I’ll give them penguins thirty seconds, tops,’ Rat Bait whispered to Whisker as they watched from the grandstand. ‘They’d fare much better in the winter games.’
‘Attention, attention!’ Chatterbeak squawked, raising his wings into the air. ‘Competitors who are about to lose a limb, we salute you! Weapons at the ready and let the battle begin.’
With a flash of steel and the glimmer of gold, the fight was on. It took Sir Mecks less than ten seconds to bundle the first penguin out of the circle with a well-aimed prod to the backside. The toads took care of the second penguin by shattering his icicle and sliding him through the puddle it left on the ground.
In the centre of the circle, the dogs and the cats traded blow for blow. Bones and blades sliced through the air. Snarls and barks rang out. Well clear of the action, Ruby and Fred inched behind the cats, sheltering their bodies from the charging marmosets.
Clinging tightly to Mimp’s fur, Sir Mecks collected Wart Face squarely in the chest and sent her hurtling into the fourth row of the grandstand.
Algae Ann, standing in readiness, swung her stalk through the air as Sir Mecks passed, clobbering the back of his rusty helmet. He tried to keep his balance but dropped his lance and rolled to one side, landing on top of Tuffy.
As the furious poodle and the semi-dazed knight began wrestling on the ground, Furious Fur joined forces with Sabre to drive Bartholomew Brawl towards the sideline.
Close by, Algae Ann leapt onto Jester Mimp’s shoulders, smothering his face with her webbed feet. With Ann holding on for dear life, Mimp stumbled around blindly, searching for the fallen lance. He eventually picked it up with his left foot and began waving it wildly through the air, while hopping on his right foot. His uncontrolled movements snagged the royal flag on Brawl’s studded dog collar and, with a hard kick from Sabre, the three tangled animals sprawled in a heap outside the circle.
As Sabre and Furious Fur stood gloating on the very edge of the circle, Ruby made her move.
She broke away from Fred with lightning-fast speed, her eyes locked on the cats. Nearing her target, the wrestling bodies of Mimp and Tuffy suddenly rolled into her path. Unable to stop, her boot collided with Sir Mecks’ helmet and her upper body flew forward. Thudding to the ground, her swords bounced free.
In the split-second that followed, Sabre pounced. Throwing his cheese knife aside, he grabbed Ruby like a ragdoll and charged straight at Fred.
The startled rat had just enough time to lower his fork before Ruby’s slender torso crashed into his massive stomach. He tried to hold his ground, but the momentum forced him backwards. In three stumbling steps he was out of the circle, with Ruby pinned to his chest and Sabre snarling triumphantly behind her.
Back in the circle, Furious Fur grabbed Tuffy and Sir Mecks by their ankles and dragged their stunned bodies over the sideline. He took one look around the empty battlefield and raised two triumphant paws in the air.
‘Coooeee!’ Chatterbeak squawked. ‘The fight is over in record time. The Cat Fish are the champions.’
A few hours later, six sombre rats and a blowfly sat on a high branch overlooking the marina. It was early evening and the crescent moon hung directly overhead, its pale light barely penetrating the wispy clouds that drifted across the sky. Leaves rustled softly in the breeze. The calm waves of the ocean gently rumbled in to shore.
The surveillance party was there on direct orders from the head coach, while the team officials enjoyed a relaxing dinner in the Champions Tavern.
Pete was still grumbling about the team’s defeat and how it could have been prevented. Fred wouldn’t stop apologising for stepping out of the circle, and Ruby refused to speak to any of them.
The object of their attention was Baron Gustave’s lavish three-masted ship, the Velvet Wave. Anchored a short distance beyond the northern pier, its six purple sails, carved mahogany railing and three-tiered deck set it apart from the cruder pirate ships of the marina. Between the foremast and the mainmast of the lower deck was a small raised cabin. Wide double doors hung open on its port and starboard sides. In the centre of the cabin, surrounded by lush velvet curtains, stood the Trophy of Champions, its purple flames clearly visible through an open trapdoor in the roof. An eerie glow radiated upwards, illuminating the edges of furled sails and the tips of the masts.
‘There it is,’ Horace whispered from the end of the branch. ‘Now how do we get to it?’
‘With great difficulty,’ Pete murmured. ‘Have you counted all those guards?’
Whisker moved his paw to his drawstring bag and pulled out a tiny golden spyglass, one of many useful items Madam Pearl had supplied for the games. Extending the spyglass to its full length, he scanned the ship for signs of Gustave’s twelve sons.
He easily spotted two of them standing outside the starboard doors of the trophy room and another two guarding the port side. There was one on the middle deck and two on the helm. Two rabbits watched from the bow of the ship and one crouched in the crow’s-nest.
That makes ten, Whisker said to himself. Now where are the other two?
He lowered the spyglass to the northern pier. Between Rat Bait’s boat, the Golden Anchor, and the Sea Dogs’ vessel, the Blood an’ Bones, lay a row of open crates. Each crate was marked with a large purple G and filled with a variety of foodstuffs. One white rabbit was inspecting the contents of the crates while another used a hand-operated wharf crane to lower the crates into a small rowboat.
‘They’re thorough,’ Horace whispered, pointing to the rabbits with his hook. ‘I doubt we could smuggle our way on bo
ard.’
‘So how do we get across?’ Pete sniffled.
‘Oh, there are many ways,’ the Captain answered casually, staring through his own spyglass. ‘Take a look – starboard side, behind the rudder. The entire royal family is bobbing around down there.’
Whisker trained his spyglass on a green and brown patch in the water, not far from the Velvet Wave. King Marvownion, Queen Marmalade and their two children, Prince Marcabio and Princess Mayenya, were paddling towards the ship with long strands of seaweed draped over their heads.
On the opposite side of the rudder, Whisker noticed a large piece of driftwood moving steadily through the waves. There was no mistaking the soggy white poodles clinging to its side.
‘Double trouble!’ Horace gasped. ‘We can’t just sit here while another team gets the bonus point –’
‘Hold your horses,’ Pete cut in. ‘I think the bumbling buffoons have just spotted each other.’
The monkeys were too far away to be heard, but their angry paw gestures made it perfectly clear they had sighted the dogs. The dogs responded by lowering their heads and paddling even faster towards the ship.
Unbeknown to the pirates, four rabbits lined the back railing of the ship. Whisker watched, transfixed, as the expert marksmen aimed their paint-pellet rifles at the animals and opened fire with four loud CRACKS.
Startled howls and barks echoed across the marina. King Marvownion thrashed around dramatically in a pool of bright purple seaweed and bellowed at the top of his lungs, ‘Great grape-flavoured gumballs! Call the coastguard. I’ve been hit …’
With the evening’s entertainment drawing to a close, the Pie Rats scampered down the tree.
‘That was far better than a dreary old dinner in the tavern,’ Horace chuckled, reaching the ground. ‘Three teams down and three to go.’
The Trophy of Champions Page 5
