Nelson lifted his paw as if Shylo’s shoulder had scalded it. His eyes grew large. His jaw fell open and he gasped. He stepped back.
Clooney looked at Belle de Paw, who glanced at Zeno, who drew his knife. ‘Say the word, Generalissimo, and I will kill him.’
‘The Kennel!’ hissed Belle de Paw, waving her paw in the air. ‘Throw him to the Pack.’
‘No, no! Leave the poor little rabbit alone,’ said Nelson.
‘Then, if not this bunkin, I will kill Horatio, whoever he is,’ Zeno volunteered, brandishing his knife.
‘Who is he?’ Belle de Paw whispered.
‘Yes, who is he?’ echoed Laser, putting her paw on the handle of her whip.
‘Horatio, my dear friends, is my brother,’ said Nelson.
Zeno, Belle de Paw, Laser and Clooney stared back at Nelson in amazement. ‘Your brother?’ they said in unison.
‘My brother,’ he repeated, as astonished as they were. ‘Horatio is alive!’
‘Alive!’ Nelson banged his fist on the map table so that the whole room vibrated. Then he threw his head back and laughed, a guffaw that sounded like gravel in a bucket.
As the tension in the room eased, Shylo felt a wave of relief. Nelson put an arm round his shoulders, embraced him and ushered him towards a sofa.
‘I haven’t seen Horatio since he disappeared into the Kennel thirty years ago when we were both daring young rabbits. I thought those dogs had killed him, for no rabbit has ever come out of that place alive. But Horatio survived! How on earth did he escape, I wonder, and why did he choose to disappear?’
Shylo thought of Horatio’s lost ear, the scar down his face, the bandaged paw – which he now realized must have hidden the Badge – the stump and the secret tunnel that linked his burrow to the farm and he understood that Horatio knew so much about the Royal Rabbits of London not because of his books but because he used to be a Royal Rabbit!
‘Sit down, little bunny,’ said Nelson. He summoned the four Hopster rabbits with a wave of his paw. They stood to attention, awaiting orders from the Generalissimo. ‘Zeno, this is a full QOTUK alert.’
‘What’s QOTUK?’ Shylo asked Clooney, who was standing beside him busily grooming with a small silver comb.
‘Queen of the United Kingdom,’ Clooney replied, bowing his ears.
‘Zeno, assemble the Thumpers,’ Nelson continued. ‘We have a plot to foil. Belle de Paw, bring this bunkin carrots and water at once. And ten sticks of celery and cream!’
CELERY! Shylo had heard that this was a great delicacy, but his poor mother could never afford any. When the celery arrived, he nibbled on it furiously and for a second forgot all about the Queen and the Ratzis. It was good, so good, that his head grew dizzy and he saw stars, until a firm soldier’s paw gripped him on the shoulder.
‘Now, little bunny . . .’ said Nelson.
‘Shylo,’ volunteered Clooney.
‘Shylo. We’ll talk about Horatio when this is done, but first let’s plan a strategy.’ Nelson moved over to the map on the table and the model of the palace. ‘Just to brief you, dear bunkin,’ he said to Shylo. ‘As you can see, BP is actually a square with a courtyard in the middle and gardens behind, three storeys high . . .’
‘What’s BP?’ Shylo whispered to Clooney.
‘It’s short for Buckingham Palace,’ Clooney replied.
Nelson continued. ‘Here are the public rooms, the picture gallery, offices, the state dining room, the guardhouse for the police, the sentry boxes for the soldiers. The headquarters of the Royal Rabbits mirror the layout of the palace above. At this moment, Shylo, we are right beneath the grandest chambers! But the family only live in a small part so all that matters to us is this,’ and he pointed at the right-hand corner of the palace with his baton.
‘The private apartments are here and the Kennels there. Now let’s look at the various ways into the Queen’s bedroom right here!’ He tapped his baton on the Queen’s bedroom. A trio of does started bringing reports and moving figures around in the model of the palace and on the map.
Laser borrowed a croupier stick from one of the does and pointed at the model of the palace. ‘I see weak spots here, here and here!’ she said ‘We need to investigate and there’s no time to lose.’
‘May I formally introduce Captain Laser,’ said Nelson. ‘Laser is one of our best operatives, sent to us by America – she’s one of the Rabbits of the White House. Laser is hard-working, efficient and brave, though she can be a little impatient at times.’
Laser offered a paw to Shylo, who shook it. ‘Pleasure to meet you, Shylo,’ she said, striking a pose. ‘I just like to get things done.’ Then she added with a crooked grin. ‘I say don’t just talk the talk, you gotta walk the walk.’
‘Now, Shylo,’ said Nelson. ‘This is how we check the palace.’ He pressed a button on the edge of the table, which made the map of London disappear and a different map shine through in bright yellow lines and flashing lights. ‘This shows our network of exits and entrances into every room in the palace, all the tunnels and secret doors we have built throughout the building. Genius, don’t you think?’
Shylo nodded, stepping closer. ‘It’s amazing!’ he gasped. Truly, he had never seen anything like it. What would his brothers and sisters think of him now? Standing in this secret headquarters! Talking to the Generalissimo! Hatching secret plans!
‘The trouble is, we thought we knew every exit and entrance into every room in the palace. But, if your Ratzis are telling the truth, then there is a way in that we are unaware of. And it’s our business to know every bit of this place. Belle de Paw, check the royal paws.’
Belle de Paw whispered to Shylo, ‘Let me show you how we watch the Royal Family. Come.’ She led him to the back of the room where there was a long row of what appeared to be periscopes, lots of them, with special eyepieces to look through. Each had a label indicating the name of a room on it in big gold letters.
‘Choose one,’ she said to Shylo.
Shylo chose STATE ROOM.
Belle de Paw smiled and pulled it down: ‘Good choice, little rabbit. Take a look!’
Shylo put his good eye to the periscope and gasped in wonder, for he was peering straight into a grand room – and he’d never seen inside the palace before.
‘But I can only make out their shoes!’ he said.
‘That is because we are rabbits,’ she explained. ‘We see the human world from this level. I recognize every shoe in the palace. Go on, tell me what you see.’
‘There’s a pair of plain brown shoes,’ said Shylo, feeling slightly disappointed. Surely the Queen should wear jewelled slippers?
‘Ladies’ shoes? Sturdy, dependable, rather sensible ones?’ said Belle de Paw.
‘Yes, exactly those.’
‘You are looking at the Queen!’ she informed him, giving a little bow with her pretty ears. ‘If you see shiny black brogues, they belong to the King. High-heeled stilettos with red soles belong to their daughter, the Princess of Scotland, who loves fashion and will one day be Queen. Her younger brother, the Duke of Cumbria, who rides around London on a big, noisy motorbike, wears biker boots, and his wife, who is an Indian princess, always wears yellow-and-black Jutti shoes turned up at the toes.’
She gently nudged Shylo out of the way so she could take a look. After a moment, she reported loudly to Nelson: ‘All’s well at the moment, Generalissimo. The Queen is meeting a group of bakers from a biscuit factory in Lancashire.’
‘Good,’ said Nelson. Then he pointed at Zeno. ‘Zeno, I want you and Laser to search the Queen’s apartments for this secret tunnel at first light. Take Shylo too. As it was he who discovered the plot, it should be he who foils it.’
‘M . . . m . . . me?’ Shylo stammered, ears drooping. He hadn’t thought he’d be expected to help with the actual plan. Surely these much bigger and braver Hopster rabbits should undertake such an important task?
‘I’m not sure I’d be much use . . .’
‘Becau
se you’re a small bunkin?’ Nelson finished for him. ‘Shylo, you found your way here, didn’t you? I don’t see the weary little rabbit who stands before me but the brave Knight you may one day rise to be. My brother saw something in you, otherwise he would not have sent you on the dangerous journey to find us. I see it too. Courage, my dear bunkin, courage. You’re braver than you know.’
Shylo pulled back his shoulders and lifted his ears. Like Horatio, Nelson believed in him and he wasn’t going to let him down.
‘You know what we say?’ said Nelson. ‘Anything in the world is possible – by will and by luck, with a moist carrot, a wet nose and a slice of mad courage! We’re counting on you. Get some rest. You’ll be leaving just before dawn. Laser will show you to your room.’
‘Will do,’ said Laser briskly, and she winked at Shylo. ‘Remember, don’t just talk the talk, walk the walk.’
It felt like the middle of the night when Laser came to get Shylo. ‘Outta bed, dopey. We gotta mission to go on!’ She threw him a backpack. ‘Inside are a sandwich and a cereal bar for your breakfast, and a loada cookies – the only things that will distract the Pack, and not for very long. They’d rather sink their teeth into rabbit flesh!’
Shylo gave a start, the fear once again filling his heart with dread. ‘Why, if the Royal Rabbits and the dogs of the Pack are both protecting the Royal Family, are they enemies?’ he asked as he climbed out of bed.
‘Dogs eat rabbits – surely you know that? But there’s an uglier reason, Shylo: jealousy. The Pack belong to the Queen and they don’t want anyone else to get near her. They’ll eat anyone who tries.’
With his heart beating wildly as he thought about those vicious dogs, Shylo followed Laser down the corridor. Zeno appeared from around the corner, chewing on the end of a carrot. He didn’t look at all nervous.
‘Ready, Shylo?’ he asked and there was a mocking glint in his eye. ‘Tell me, why the eyepatch? Did the farm cat get you?’
Shylo bristled. Zeno reached out his paw and was about to pull the elastic, as Maximilian did, when Laser grabbed his wrist and glared at him.
‘Cut it out, Zeno. There’s no time for that. This is an important mission and if you wanna play silly games, Shylo and I will go without you.’
Zeno chuckled. ‘Shylo doesn’t look fit enough to fight the Ratzis! In fact, Messalina, queen of the Pack, would probably turn up her nose at a little scrap of fur like him.’ He shrugged. ‘I suppose he might do as a toothpick.’
Suddenly, Shylo’s fury boiled over, for Zeno’s taunting reminded him of Maximilian and his siblings. He decided then that he wasn’t going to take it any more. He raised himself up as tall as he could, which wasn’t even to Zeno’s shoulder, and lifted his chin.
‘Being small and wiry,’ he said, ‘may work to my advantage!’
Zeno looked surprised that a small rabbit from the countryside had answered back so boldly, but Laser smiled.
‘And being clever,’ she said, winking at Shylo. ‘He might outwit them all.’
‘We’ll see,’ said Zeno, throwing on his backpack. He pulled a long knife from his belt and held it in front of Shylo’s face. ‘You’re not big enough to use one of these,’ he said, handing Shylo a pair of nail scissors. ‘Don’t cut yourself, bunkin!’
He gave a belly laugh. ‘Let’s go, before the Pack wakes up. They’re hungriest in the morning.’
Shylo put the scissors in his jacket pocket and hauled the backpack over his shoulders. It wasn’t made for a small rabbit and he almost buckled beneath the weight. They were escorted along the narrow corridors by a squad of four Thumpers. Shylo wondered why they needed them, for Nelson had instructed them to go alone, but it soon became clear when one of the commandos opened a little wooden door at the end of the passageway.
Inside was a small wooden lift. ‘This is our special way into the palace,’ said Laser. ‘It used to be a dumb waiter to take food up and down from the kitchen.’ They climbed in and squeezed together. There was scarcely enough room for Zeno’s biceps. The Marshal nodded at the Thumpers who started to pull on a rope that raised the dumb waiter up, up, up.
When they reached the top, the three rabbits rolled out and landed on an old marble counter in a deserted kitchen that had once belonged to a lady-in-waiting in the reign of Edward VII. Shylo could smell that old kitcheny smell – of chicken grease, onions and garlic. Laser immediately leaped across to the next counter and then, very slowly and carefully, opened a two-door hatch that led into the rest of the residence.
Zeno raised a paw and mouthed, Silence. Shylo nodded obediently.
Laser pushed the door open a crack and peered into the room. It was dark, but for the city lights that cast a blue glow over the carpets and furniture. Laser hopped out and turned to Shylo.
‘This is one of the state rooms,’ she informed him in a whisper. ‘There’s no danger of corgis in here unless the Queen is sitting for a portrait or giving a TV interview.’ She narrowed her eyes and looked about the room.
‘But you can never be sure,’ Zeno added. ‘Those gnashing teeth are never very far away.’
If he meant to scare Shylo, it worked. The little rabbit gulped hard, dropped his backpack and watched helplessly as the cereal bar and a few cookies tumbled on to the carpet.
Zeno shook his head and clicked his tongue. ‘This is ridiculous. The bungling bunkin’ll get us all killed.’
‘Quiet, Zeno! Come on, we don’t have much time,’ hissed Laser.
Shylo picked up his cereal bar and the cookies and stuffed them back in his backpack, then followed the others across the room, trying not to think of the Pack.
Instead of using the door, which was much too high for a rabbit to open, Laser pushed a secret panel in the skirting board, which broke away, giving them enough space to dive through and out into the corridor on the other side.
Shylo forgot all about his fear as his eyes swept over the gold-framed paintings of kings and queens. A light had been left on at the far end, which allowed him to marvel at the beautiful crimson carpets and painted ceilings. There were green velvet chairs and tall Chinese urns, and the walls were a rich crimson and gold.
Shylo was so busy looking around that he was almost left behind as Laser and Zeno marched on purposefully. He hurried to keep up as they lolloped down the long corridor. Then suddenly and without warning they froze. A pair of footmen in black trousers and scarlet tailcoats were walking up the corridor, talking to a trio of police officers.
The Hopster rabbits didn’t hesitate: they knew what to do. They leaped on to one of the many shiny wooden tables that were placed against the wall. It was covered in royal knick-knacks: photographs in silver frames, enamel snuffboxes, potted plants and stuffed animals. The two rabbits hopped amid it all and struck a pose as if they, too, were stuffed and placed upon little pedestals.
Shylo had no time to think; the humans were almost upon him. He jumped on to the table and remained very still and unblinking, one hind paw in the air like a dancer, straining every nerve to hold his pose as the footmen and the police officers walked past, talking in loud voices. Then the danger was gone and they were alone again.
‘Haven’t you ever seen a palace before, bunkin?’ taunted Zeno, hopping lightly back on to the carpet.
‘Shhhh,’ hissed Laser. ‘Do you wanna wake the Pack?’
They continued along the corridor until, at last, Laser stopped beside a sideboard. On top was a statue of a horse in solid silver, and beneath was a cupboard. Laser pulled open the cupboard door and disappeared inside. Zeno followed.
‘Close the door behind you,’ he instructed Shylo. ‘And hope there isn’t a corgi on the other side!’ He bared his teeth and made a snarling sound before sniggering.
Shylo clenched his paws angrily, but he knew he was no match for the big Hopster rabbit. Reluctantly, he followed Zeno into the dark interior of the sideboard and closed the door behind him as he had been told. To his surprise, there was another secret panel on the other side,
which allowed the rabbits to move through the wall into the Queen’s private apartments.
It was dark in the Queen’s sitting room. The pale dawn light dribbled in through a gap in the heavy velvet curtains. The rabbits stepped on to the carpet and looked around. Shylo’s fur bristled as he scanned the room for signs of dog. He twitched his nose and sniffed the air, but it was hard to smell anything above the sweet scent of lilies and perfume, even for a rabbit with as good a nose as Shylo.
‘Right,’ said Laser with a very serious look on her face. ‘We have to find this secret tunnel. We’ll sneak into the Queen’s bedroom and search every centimetre of the wall, floor and skirting board.’
‘Remember,’ said Zeno very fiercely, lowering his face and looking at Shylo with burning eyes. ‘The Queen is here! We must respect her at all times!’ They bowed with their ears.
‘And what if we find the secret tunnel?’ asked Shylo.
‘We climb in and see where it leads and then one of us will go back and summon the Thumpers,’ Laser replied.
‘What if we come face to face with a Ratzi?’ Shylo’s stomach had now begun to churn with nerves.
Zeno grinned. ‘We fight,’ he said, placing his paw on his knife. ‘Or, if you’re a coward, you run the other way.’
‘Come on,’ said Laser. ‘There’s no time to lose.’
They entered the Queen’s bedroom by way of a secret panel, this time at the back of a bookcase. Inside, the room was dark and quiet, but Shylo sensed the presence of somebody sleeping high up in the bed that looked as big as a boat. It even had a roof on it, held up by four posts. He was so overcome with awe and respect for Her Majesty that for a moment he was unable to move.
‘What’s the matter, bunkin?’ whispered Zeno.
‘That’s the Queen!’ said Shylo, not quite believing he was in the same room as such an important person.
‘Right,’ said Zeno, and Shylo jumped at his sharp tone. ‘You’re never going to find the secret tunnel so you might as well make yourself useful keeping guard. Stay here and keep your ears pricked for corgis.’
The Royal Rabbits of London Page 5
