Troll's Treasure

by Steven Butler

  ‘I don’t have a hammock,’ Neville said, close to tears with tiredness.

  ‘Oh …’ said Canker. ‘Oh dear, indeedy.’

  ‘Where am I going to sleep?’

  ‘Well, there’s plenty of kitchen cloths in the cupboard by the porthole. Never had any use for ’em myself, so you’re welcome to sleep on ’em,’ Canker said, yawning. ‘If you get hungry in the night, grunch away, m’boy.’

  Neville almost laughed. He was starving, but the only thing left over from the meal was the jar of fish-head purée. His appetite for troll-food had suddenly vanished, so Neville closed his eyes and thought of pepperoni pizza.

  ‘Sleep tightly,’ said Canker as he left him alone in the kitchen. ‘Don’t let the prawks nibble.’

  Neville stood in the middle of the room and looked around; he had never felt so lonely. Shaking himself out of it, he headed to the cupboard by the porthole and opened the door. Inside were shelves of cracked plates and chipped mugs and – a-ha! – dishcloths. He pulled out a stack and arranged them into a pile on the floor.

  ‘Oh well,’ he said to himself, ‘you’re a truccaneer now. You’ll just have to get used to it.’

  Neville hunkered down and tried to make himself comfortable. He groaned. The dishcloths were rough and smelled like old food, and the rivets in the floor were sticking up through the pile.

  ‘Oh, pook!’ Neville whispered to himself. He wondered what Rubella was up to and realized he missed her. Something is seriously wrong when you miss a hulking great bully like her, Neville thought. He clambered back to his feet and headed for the door. He was sure he’d passed a whole row of cabins on his way down to the kitchens earlier that day. Maybe Rubella was in one of them now.

  Neville opened the door a crack and peeked out. The hallway was dark and silent. Suddenly the old familiar butterflies returned to his belly.

  He tiptoed into the darkness.

  Lies … All Lies

  Neville edged further along the hallway, stepping as quietly as possible. He could hear snoring coming from nearby and the sound of muttering.

  ‘You should have seen it,’ came a voice from the next room. Neville could see light spilling out from underneath the door. ‘They believed me hook, line and dunker.’

  Neville frowned. That was Grandma Jaundice’s voice. He crept up to the door and pressed his eye to the keyhole. Inside, he spied Jaundice sitting at a table with Old Barnacle, Mumps and one or two other crew-members. Jaundice had changed out of her prison uniform and was now wearing a fancy troll-sized frock coat and thigh high, skrunt-skin boots. She even had a big hat with a weird-looking feather in it.

  ‘Those little whelps actually think I’m goin’ to save their family from Great Gurty!’

  Neville’s jaw dropped. That glumping old gonker had tricked them! What was he going to do? He wished he knew where Rubella was.

  ‘WHATCHA GOT PLANNED THEN, CAPTAIN?’ Old Barnacle yelled, gripping on to his ear trumpet.

  ‘SHUT UP!’ Jaundice snapped. ‘Someone will hear you.’

  ‘OH, SORRY!’ Old Barnacle said just as loudly.

  ‘Everyone knows the stories of the wondersome troll treasure that was buried in Gurty’s belly,’ said Jaundice. ‘Years ago, Sir Arthritis III sailed a hoard of left socks into that honking great fish and no one has ever managed to get them out.’

  ‘WHY NOT?’ shouted Old Barnacle.

  ‘Because Great Gurty is so lazy, only coming to the surface once in a blue mook.’

  ‘Are you sayin’ what I think you’re sayin’?’ said Mumps. He kept whizzing in and out of view as his chair shot across the cabin and back again with the rolling of the waves.

  ‘That gundiskump will have a nice taste for overlings by now,’ sneered Jaundice. ‘I say we use the boy as bait to get Gurty to swallow us. Then, once we’re inside, we dump Nev and the chunky sister with the rest of their family and sail out with the treasure. Agreed?’

  ‘Agreed!’ the others said in unison.

  Waiting … Waiting … Waiting …

  Neville didn’t sleep that night, and he couldn’t find Rubella.

  The next morning he looked for the laundry room, but couldn’t locate it. Over the next few days he tried to search the rest of the huge ship, but, being nearly constantly on duty in the kitchens, he didn’t get much of a chance.

  In the odd moments when Canker didn’t need him to slice squid, pickle fish eyes or roast sea cucumbers, Neville would sneak off to the crow’s nest at the top of the mast. He surveyed the decks from his vantage point, but still couldn’t see Rubella.

  While he was looking down, he picked at one of the toadstools that were sprouting across his neck and shoulders. After so long Underneath he was starting to turn grey-green too. If Lady Jaundice wanted to dump him and Rubella once they were inside the gundiskump, he’d have to be even tricksier than she was and outsmart the mean old gurnip … but how? Neville tossed the toadstool he’d picked into the sea and counted the notches he’d scratched into the side of the crow’s nest.

  ‘Seven days at sea,’ he groaned.

  Meanwhile

  Rubella sat in a cloud of steam, deep in the bowels of the Rigor Mortis, and howled. In her chubby hands she gripped a basket filled to overflowing with stinking truccaneer pants and stockings.

  ‘THIS ISN’T FAIR!’ she bellowed. ‘I DON’T DO CHORES!’

  She threw the basket across the room and grunted like an angry bull. Why her? Neville was probably sitting around somewhere doing absolunkly nothing! Why didn’t he come to see her?

  ‘That’s it!’ she yelled. She wasn’t going to touch another pair of panty-bloomers if it was the last thing she –

  Suddenly the laundry chute rumbled and hundreds of pairs of troll-sized underpants tumbled down on her head like an avalanche … a very smelly avalanche.

  No More Waiting

  HOOOOOOOONNNNKKKK!!!

  Neville woke with dishcloths tangled round his arms and legs. What was that sound?

  HOOOOOOOONNNNKKKK!!!

  He sat up and looked around the kitchen. Canker was nowhere to be seen, so it must have been either very late or very, very early.

  HOOOOOOOONNNNKKKK!!!

  Suddenly the door burst open and in ran Canker, panting and banging his pan-ladle hands together.

  ‘Quick!’ Canker wheezed heavily.

  Neville just stared. ‘What?’

  ‘Quickly, boy! They’ve spotted Great Gurty!’

  Neville jumped out of his sleeping pile and ran to the door. He followed Canker along the corridor and up the stairs to the top deck, jumping two or three steps at a time. This was it. This was the moment he’d finally have to outsmart Lady Jaundice if he wanted to save himself and his family.

  Outside, crew-members were running or wheeling this way and that as Jaundice stood on the poop deck above her cabin shouting orders. She saw Neville and smiled. Neville scowled back.

  ‘Ah, there you are, my little truccaneer,’ she beamed. ‘What did Grandmooma promise?’

  Neville felt like screaming, THAT YOU’D USE ME AS BAIT AND THEN LEAVE ME INSIDE THAT THING!, but he knew he mustn’t let on that he’d rumbled her secret. Instead he just pulled a confused face and said, ‘What, Grandma?’

  ‘Look for yourself, boy.’

  Neville ran to the ornate wooden railing and looked out over the water. There in the distance was the unmistakable stalk with the giant light bulb on the end, rising out of the water. All round it the sea glowed orange as the gundiskump lurked just beneath the surface.

  ‘Now all we have to do is get its attention!’ Jaundice shouted over the hubbub.

  All the hairs on the back of Neville’s neck stood up.

  He knew exactly what that meant.

  Bait

  Suddenly Neville didn’t feel quite so sure about his plan. If he wanted to rescue his family, he had to go along with Jaundice’s idea until they were inside Great Gurty.

  ‘Now show me again,’ Jaundice said, stroking h
er warty chin. Neville stood with a rubber tyre round his middle and wiggled like someone dancing the hula.

  ‘Like this, Grandma?’ Neville said, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

  ‘Just like that,’ Jaundice said with a sickening smile. ‘You need to make sure Great Gurty can smell you in the water … are you ready?’

  ‘Ready,’ said Neville nervously.

  ‘Go on then, boy!’ Jaundice shouted. ‘JUMP!’

  Neville had no choice. He scrunched up his eyes, thought of his hero, Captain Brilliant, and leapt over the railing.

  The water was icy cold and snatched his breath away as soon as he hit it.

  ‘AAAAGH!’ Neville screamed. ‘It’s freezing!’ He tried desperately not to think about the fact that he was in the sea with all those monstrous things Old Barnacle had talked about. ‘AAAAGH!’

  ‘Now, Nev,’ Jaundice shouted over the side of the Rigor Mortis, ‘WRIGGLE!’

  Neville kicked and splashed anything he could move. He blew bubbles and jiggled his fingers and twisted his head this way and that.

  ‘Is it working?’ he shouted.

  ‘Erm … NO!’ Jaundice shouted back.

  Neville twisted round to look for the light bulb on a stalk. It was still a long way off and didn’t seem to be getting any closer.

  ‘TRY AGAIN!’ Jaundice yelled.

  Neville tried again until it felt like his arms and legs were going to snap off.

  ‘M-maybe G-Great G-Gurty isn’t h-hungry?’ Neville said through chattering teeth.

  ‘Nonkumbumps!’ replied Lady Jaundice. ‘Gundiskumps are always hungry … Something’s not right.’ The old lady thought for a moment. She tossed her carrot stalks over her shoulders and paced across the deck.

  ‘G-Grandma,’ Neville shivered. ‘It’s g-getting very c-cold in here.’

  ‘HOLD YOUR HONKERS,’ Jaundice shouted. ‘I’VE GOT IT!’ Then she turned to her crew and shouted. ‘BRING OUT THE CHUBLET!’

  A few moments later, Rubella was in the water next to Neville with a tyre wedged round her middle like a hairband round a hippopotamus. Neville hadn’t seen his troll-sister in ages … and she looked awful.

  ‘H-hello, R-Rubella,’ Neville said, trying to smile. He desperately wanted to tell her about Jaundice’s horrible plan, but knew Rubella would never be able to control her temper and go along with the old gonker, which would likely ruin their chances of getting Clod, Malaria and Pong back.

  Rubella looked at Neville. Her face was filthy and her hair was even messier than normal. She opened her mouth and, for a moment, Neville thought she was going to yell at him, but she burst out crying instead.

  ‘They made me do chores!’ she wailed, with tears pouring down her face. ‘I HAD TO … TO … WORK! WAAAAAHH!’

  ‘It’s O-OK, R-Rubella,’ Neville comforted. ‘We’re almost th-there. They’ve found G-Great G-Gurty.’

  ‘Wha?’

  ‘Over th-there.’ Neville nodded in the direction of the light-bulb stalk. ‘S-see?’

  Rubella craned her neck and looked.

  ‘AAAAGH! NOT AGAIN!’ she screamed and started thrashing and kicking in the water.

  Jaundice ran to the railing. ‘YOU TOO, NEV!’ she ordered. ‘JUST LIKE BIG-BOTTOMED BELLY.’

  ‘THAT’S NOT MY NAME, JOAN!’ Rubella screamed.

  No sooner had Neville started kicking his feet, he saw the light bulb start to approach at a tremendous speed. It raced through the waves, spraying water up on either side like a fountain.

  ‘THAT’S IT!’ Jaundice shouted. ‘Gurty loves the taste of underling and overling together!’

  Soon the light bulb started to rise higher and higher on its stalk. Then a scaly forehead the size of a football pitch emerged … then two massive eyes … then that terrible, enormous mouth … until Great Gurty’s entire head was above the water.

  It tore towards the ship at breakneck speed, spluttering and hissing.

  Old Barnacle joined Jaundice at the railing.

  ‘OPEN WIDE, YOU FUZZBONKIN’ GREAT WHOMPER!’ he yelled.

  ‘IT’S WORKIN’!’ Jaundice screeched. Neville could see that glint in her eye like the time she almost destroyed the ticker-dinger-thinger. ‘REEL ’EM IN!’

  Bilge, Spit and Blister grabbed the ropes attached to Neville and Rubella’s tyres and heaved them up on to the deck.

  ‘BRACE YOURSELVES, SEWER RATS!’ Jaundice bellowed over the din.

  Neville just had time to clamber to his feet as Great Gurty’s mountainous fangs passed round the ship. He watched as the mammoth set of jaws closed over them as if they were sailing into a tunnel.

  Rubella grabbed hold of Neville’s hand and whimpered as the teeth clamped shut and all the torches on deck blew out. There was an almighty, deafening CRASH, followed by an even more deafening silence.

  ‘Well,’ came Captain Jaundice’s voice after a moment, ‘we’re in …’

  Ahoy There!

  Neville stood very still and listened as the crew of the Rigor Mortis stumbled this way and that in the darkness.

  ‘OH, ROTSOME!’ cried the voice of No-eyed Ebola. ‘IT’S SO DARK!’

  ‘But …’ came another voice in the blackness, ‘you can’t see anyway – you’re No-eyed Ebola!’

  ‘Oh, yes … ha ha!’ chuckled Ebola. ‘I quite like it here.’

  ‘MORE LIGHT!’ came the voice of Jaundice. For a split second, Neville thought he saw her eyes flash a little way off. ‘MAN THE LANTERNS!’

  ‘AYE, AYE, CAPTAIN!’ the crew yelled.

  In no time at all, every milk bottle and jam jar was stacked on the bow of the ship and lit. Their glow became brighter and brighter as more and more were added to the pile, until the way ahead crept into view like something from a bad dream.

  Neville looked about with eyes like dinner plates. They were floating in a lagoon surrounded by giant teeth. High above them, the roof of Great Gurty’s mouth pulsed and squelched, and the occasional belch boomed up from a pitch-dark opening on the far side of the water.

  ‘That’s our headin’,’ Jaundice said, pointing into the gloom. ‘Keep a sharp lookout, my truccaneers.’

  ‘Yes, captain,’ shouted No-eyed Ebola, walking straight into the mast.

  I have to warn Rubella, thought Neville. If he didn’t do it soon, it might be too late and Jaundice would throw them overboard or maroon them on a tonsil or something else just as bad. He sneaked round the back of a pile of frog-grog barrels.

  ‘Psssssssst!’

  Rubella, who had been wringing out her soggy dress and mumbling to herself, stopped what she was doing and looked in his direction.

  ‘WHAT?’ she yelled.

  ‘SSHHH!’ Neville hissed. Then he mouthed the words Come here in silence.

  ‘NO!’ Rubella growled. ‘STOP WHISPERIN’!’

  Before anyone could overhear his stupid troll-sister, Neville darted out, grabbed Rubella by the arm and yanked her behind the pile of barrels.

  ‘What do you want?’ she said, snatching her arm back.

  ‘Rubella, I have to tell you something,’ said Neville. ‘Something terrible.’

  ‘Well, go on then,’ said Rubella. She stuck her fists on her hips and grimaced.

  ‘It’s all a trick,’ said Neville urgently. ‘Jaundice isn’t going to save Mooma and Dooda!

  ‘WHAT!!!’

  ‘Shhhh! We can’t let her know we’re on to her … not yet.’

  ‘What do you mean, she’s not goin’ to save them?’

  ‘I heard her talking to the crew,’ said Neville. ‘She’s after some treasure in Gurty’s belly. She’s going to leave us in here and make off with it.’

  ‘That clonker!’ Rubella grunted, rolling up her sleeves. ‘I’ll wallop her so hard, her bunions’ll bounce.’

  ‘No! You mustn’t! Not yet!’ Neville pleaded. ‘We have to make sure we find everyone before punishing her. Otherwise we might not find them at all.’

  Rubella put her finger alongside her nose and pulled
a your-secret’s-safe-with-me face.

  Then she winked at Neville and marched back out on to the open deck. Neville followed her and headed to the railing to look out for his family. He tried to appear as innocent as he could, but got the feeling that all eyes were on him.

  ‘KEEP HER STEADY!’ Jaundice yelled from the poop deck.

  They were heading into the narrow passage at the far end of the lagoon. Neville shivered at the thought of it. They were actually about to sail into the throat and down the gullet of a giant fish. ‘EEWWW!’

  ‘ULCER OFF THE PORT BOW!’ Jaundice shouted as they passed a huge fleshy lump sticking out of the water. It was disgusting, like some massive, meaty iceberg.

  Neville groaned to himself and wished he were back at home. He loved his troll-family very much, but he did always seem to get into terrible trouble whenever they were around.

  The ship slowly rounded a bend in the throat and passed into another huge chamber. For a moment, Neville couldn’t make anything out as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. But, as the lantern light filled the space, he saw … could it be? Neville almost tumbled overboard with excitement. In the distance, he could make out three figures huddled together on the far bank of the water.

  ‘MOOMA!’ Neville screamed with all his might. ‘DOODA!’

  He saw the figures jump at the sound of his voice and clamber to their feet. ‘WE’VE COME TO GET YOU!’ he shouted.

  ‘NEVILLE!’ echoed the sound of Malaria’s voice.

  ‘NEV?’ shouted Clod. ‘IS THAT YOU?’

  ‘’ELLO, LUMP!’ Malaria yelled over the water. She started jumping up and down and waving. ‘HE’S A BLUNKIN’ HERO!’

  Rubella rushed to the railing. ‘WHAT ABOUT ME?’ she barked.

  Reunited

  After a lot of tugging and pulling, the crew of the Rigor Mortis finally managed to pull the Bulches aboard in the baiting tyres.