‘If you think Banfor is in the Circle of Mountains, then that’s where I’m going,’ he said.
‘But what about your orders to search the Forest of Gilderang?’ she said, a hint of mockery in her voice.
‘That will have to wait,’ said Roderick with a half-smile. ‘Anyway, let’s find somewhere safe and out of the way to make camp.’
Next morning dawned grey and drizzly. They had slept in a small cave they had found and after packing up and checking that there was no sign of anyone following them, they continued along the ridge, Roderick in front. Up ahead the mountains rose into the clouds.
‘So how do we find the path that leads through the Circle of Mountains?’ asked Roderick.
‘That’s easy.’
‘It is?’
‘We can’t miss it. The entrance is guarded by giant cockroaches.’
Roderick froze. There was no way he could get past a giant cockroach. The only thing he’d be able to do to a giant cockroach would be to give it indigestion.
The presence of giant cockroaches was the main reason hardly anyone lived in North Baronia. They were as big as houses, fearsomely strong and utterly indestructible, and were known for their ill-temper and unpredictability.
They foraged mainly in forests and valleys, but occasionally one would rampage through a village, rip some people to pieces and destroy some buildings.
In the old days, when a cockroach ransacked a village a group of knights would be dispatched to seek revenge, but after a few hundred years of this the very wise King Reganos did some maths and decided that the results – sixty-two dead knights and no dead cockroaches – suggested it was time for a re-think.
Much to the relief of the knights, the revenge attacks ended. Now giant cockroach attacks were viewed in much the same way as invasions by the smaller and more common type of cockroach: as unfortunate but unavoidable. They were to be survived as best one could, and then forgotten about.
Roderick stared at the mountains. With every step he was deliberately taking himself closer to the world’s most fearsome creatures. That wasn’t sensible. Surely it would be better to be taking himself further away from them. He pulled up Fruitcake and turned him around.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Ruby.
‘I’m panicking,’ said Roderick. ‘It’s good to panic sometimes. I mean, it’s better to panic than, say, get torn to death by a giant cockroach.’
‘Roderick, don’t worry.’
‘Nice advice. Thank you. Can I go home now?’
‘No. I’ve got a plan.’
He didn’t want Ruby to have a plan. If Ruby had a plan it meant that instead of galloping away to safety, he would have to listen to it, because it would be rude not to at least listen to it, and then maybe somehow she’d convince him to give her plan a try and then he’d have to turn around and head towards those cockroaches again.
If only she didn’t have a plan.
Roderick slowly lifted his head and peered down into the valley. He was hidden behind a large rock halfway up – or halfway down – a forested hill. At the bottom of the hill was a clearing that ran along the valley and was about fifty metres wide. On its far side the ground became wooded again and rose steeply towards the Circle of Mountains, except for a narrow, high-walled, rocky gully directly in front of him that led, Ruby believed, to the path that ran into the centre of the mountains.
Actually, calling the area at the bottom of the hill a clearing was not entirely accurate. While it was clear of trees, bushes and grass, and was basically a dusty, rocky plain between a hill and a mountain, it did contain two giant cockroaches. They were huge, even bigger than Roderick had imagined. He had seen an elephant once and thought it was large, but the cockroaches were a bit taller and wider, and about three times as long. Just seeing them made him feel woozy. They both continually looked around, sniffing the wind. Ruby’s boot – still the only visible part of her – was below him, nearly at the bottom of the hill, moving through the thinning trees towards the clearing. Roderick couldn’t watch. He slumped down behind the rock and sat with his back to it. But not watching was even worse, so he got up and peered over the rock again.
Ruby’s plan was simple. She would use her invisibility to sneak past the cockroaches to the other side of the clearing and into the gully. Roderick had initially suggested that they travel down the clearing, cross it out of sight of the cockroaches, and then double back and enter the gully from the mountain slopes on the far side. However, it looked like the sides of the gully were so steep that the only way to get in to it was through the clearing, and that meant getting past the cockroaches.
Roderick had thought of brewing a potion to make himself invisible too so that they could cross together but, while there was a spell in his book for invisibility, the herb and tree root ingredients he needed were nowhere to be found.
To combat the cockroaches’ acute sense of smell, Roderick had made, and then doused Ruby with, a potion that would hide her scent. For good measure he had splashed it over himself as well.
If Ruby made it to the other side of the clearing, she would find the path and then – this is where the plan got rubbery – they would work out how to get Roderick through.
Roderick had been dimly aware of the flimsy nature of the final part of the plan when Ruby proposed it, but his relief at not having to immediately attempt the crossing himself meant that he had nonetheless enthusiastically agreed. He wondered if – assuming she made it through – she would return. She was risking her life trying to sneak past and, if she succeeded, what sense was there in risking it a second time to get back to him, and then a third time to cross again?
Ruby had reached the edge of the clearing near where there were a few small rocks that would provide some cover for her visible boot. The boot started moving across the clearing, looking like it was doing a slow-motion hop from under the cover of one rock to the next. So far, the cockroaches had not noticed anything. Roderick clenched his hands into fists. Halfway across the clearing Ruby’s boot stopped behind a rock. She now had to take seven or eight steps without cover to get to the next one. One of the cockroaches turned its huge head towards her and sniffed. Roderick had an incredibly strong urge not to run down the hill to help, so he didn’t. There was nothing he could have done anyway.
The cockroach took a step towards Ruby. Her boot, still behind a rock, didn’t move. The cockroach raised its massive head and bellowed. The noise was so loud, intense and unexpected that Roderick fell over backwards. He scrambled up again. The boot had not moved. The cockroach was staring directly at the rock behind which it hid.
Roderick held his breath.
For a long time nothing happened. The cockroach kept staring at the rock. Roderick realised that if he didn’t stop holding his breath he would pass out. Still nothing happened. Plants sprouted, trees grew, babies were born. Finally, the cockroach turned away. A few moments later the boot continued across the gap to the next rock, and then from rock to rock until it reached the far side of the clearing. Then it hopped along and disappeared into the gully.
CHAPTER 8
AN UNUSUAL CONVERSATION
Roderick had been waiting for Ruby to return for a night, a day, another night, and now into the morning of the second day.
If he wasn’t so close to two giant ferocious beasts that could kill him instantly, he would have been bored stiff. Instead, he was anxious stiff.
He had spent much of the last day and a half imagining all sorts of bad things that might happen to him, and which may already have happened to Ruby. He had also been watching the cockroaches, partly out of terrified fascination, and partly because if he didn’t watch them, he wouldn’t know if they started to creep up the hill towards him.
He had noticed something odd. The dusty and desolate clearing offered very little sustenance to a hungry cockroach but the slopes of both the Circle of Mo
untains on one side, and the hill Roderick was halfway up on the other, were full of rabbits, squirrels, birds and vegetation – things giant cockroaches might want to eat. Yet in all the time Roderick had been watching them, both had hardly left the clearing. In addition, while the clearing extended as far as Roderick could see in either direction, the cockroaches stayed directly in front of the gully Ruby had ventured into.
Roderick had also noticed that every couple of hours when one of the cockroaches did actually forage for food, they would wander only a little way up one of the slopes (never, thank goodness, as far as the rocks Roderick was behind), quickly search for food and then return to the clearing.
Roderick didn’t understand it. They were big powerful creatures at the top of the food chain, the most feared beasts in the land. They could go anywhere and do anything they wanted. So why sit in some desolate clearing kicking dust around all day?
Several times he saw one of the cockroaches start to plod out of the clearing, only to stop once they got a few paces past its edge. It seemed to Roderick – or was he imagining it – that as they stopped, there was a sense of frustration, like a dog pulling against a leash.
It was almost as if they were in a cage, and were occasionally let out to feed, before being drawn back again.
There was something else, even odder. It was not something Roderick saw or heard. It was something he sensed, or thought he did. A feeling of . . . what? . . . Frustration? Irritation? It seemed to be a desire someone, or something, had to be free.
The chill in the morning air hadn’t been chased away by the sun yet. Roderick softly stamped his feet to warm them, as if he was tiptoeing on the spot. He tried to concentrate on the feeling again, but now there was only a vague sense of it. Down in the valley, he watched as a cockroach stepped from the clearing into the bush then stopped as if it could go no further. Roderick felt a spike in the feeling of frustration.
Suddenly he understood. The feelings he was sensing were coming from the cockroaches. They wanted to be free. The reason they stayed in the same part of the clearing was because, somehow, they were trapped there.
He looked down at them, trying to work it out. Ganfree Banfor was a powerful sorcerer who had decided to disappear into the Circle of Mountains. What better way for him to ensure his privacy than to use his powers to leash up two of the world’s biggest watchdogs outside the only entrance. Perhaps he had mapped out the exact area the roaches had to patrol, and prevented them from going outside it, except at certain times to forage for food.
But how was he, Roderick, able to sense their frustration? Would anyone who sat watching them for this long become tuned in to what they were thinking? Or did he have some sort of special ability? He remembered hearing the Queen’s voice inside his head at the castle. Did that happen purely because of her ability to project her thoughts, or did he have something to do with it as well?
Meanwhile, there was still no sign of Ruby. With every passing minute it seemed less likely she would return. Either something had happened to her or, less than a day after he had saved her life, she had abandoned him.
He took a deep breath. If he wanted to find Banfor, he would have to find a way to get past the cockroaches on his own. Maybe if he focused more intently on what he was sensing from them, he would find out something that might help.
He pulled himself up onto the rock, sat down, looked down at them and then shut his eyes. At the back of his mind he felt their frustration. He tried to concentrate only on that, and to ignore all other thoughts in his mind.
Concentrate . . . concentrate . . . This rock is a bit uncomfortable. My bum feels kind of . . . Wait. Concentrate on the cockroaches! . . . That’s better . . . concentrate! It’s especially the left buttock, though. Maybe there’s something underneath it. Stop it! Okay. The roaches, their feelings . . . I wonder if Fruitcake is lonely? Stop, you idiot!
The more he tried to concentrate, the more he ended up thinking about everything else. He had never realised how many thoughts there were fighting for attention inside his head.
He tried again, this time leaving his eyes open and looking down at the roaches. He tried to relax. Then he stopped trying to relax and just let himself relax. Instead of concentrating hard on the roaches’ thoughts, he let go and simply allowed himself to hear them. He tried to keep his mind soft, open and empty and the thoughts became easier to . . . not exactly hear, but experience. He was feeling waves of emotions whose meaning was becoming clearer.
WANT MOVE. MOOOVE. STUCK. BORED. OUT. WANT OUT. WANT RUN. WANT FLY. WANT EAT. WANTWANTWANTWANT. WANT MMOOOOOVE!
It went on like that for a while. It had probably been going on like that for as long as the cockroaches had been here. Roderick wondered if he could do more than receive thoughts. He wondered if he could send.
Hello. Hello, he tried to think the words out to them. Hi, I’m Roderick. Up here on the rock. See, I’m waving to you. Hello. Earth to huge scary monsters. Sorry, I didn’t mean monsters, but you are very big. Although I suppose you think you’re normal-sized and everything else is just very small. Anyway, hello?
No reaction. He kept trying, but without success. He was sure there must be a way, but he couldn’t seem to get it. He scratched his head, stood up on the rock and kicked it hard in frustration. ‘Owww!’ He grabbed his foot and hopped up and down. ‘Stupid rock!’ he shouted.
Suddenly he sensed a new feeling. Curiosity. Roderick looked down to the clearing. His tantrum had achieved what his thoughts had failed to. The roaches were looking up at him. He thought as hard as he could, like he was shouting inside his head. It’s me. Can you hear me? Can you? I’m Roderick! I can hear you. No response. In desperation, he zoned in on the thing he knew the cockroaches wanted.
I know you are not free. I want to help.
One of the roaches, the smaller (but still very, very big), lighter-coloured one, cocked its head. Roderick felt a reply. WANT FREE.
Roderick thought, I help you. Yes. He was communicating with them!
HOOWWW? came the thought. Again he was sure it had come from the smaller cockroach.
Good question, thought Roderick. He had no idea how he could help them, but he wanted to keep the communication going. Then, he had an idea. Let me through. Then I will help.
NOOOO!!! smashed into his brain. It felt different from the smaller cockroach’s thoughts, older perhaps and less restless. It must be the larger cockroach, who had swung around to stare at him.
I will help. I promise. Let me through, thought Roderick.
TRAPPED. NEEEED FREEE. This came from the smaller cockroach.
NOT ALLOWED! from the bigger one.
MUSSST! FREEE! thought the smaller.
NOOO! from the bigger.
Roderick had become a spectator to a thought argument between two giant cockroaches. The beasts faced each other, their thoughts crashing together like blows.
Suddenly, the smaller cockroach leapt at the larger and bit its head.
The larger one roared in pain and thrashed its front legs about. The smaller one dived underneath it and must have been getting at something vulnerable, because Roderick was feeling PAIN! PAIN! PAIN! from the bigger one, and its anger turning to fear.
The smaller roach got right under the bigger one and pushed up, lifting the bigger one onto its hind legs. The bigger one’s fear grew to panic. The smaller one pushed again, and the bigger one hung in mid-air, going neither forward nor back, balanced precariously on its thin back legs.
Standing up, it looked as big as a castle. Its head reached nearly as high as the rock Roderick was on. The smaller one pushed harder still and tipped the other onto its back. It was now helpless. Its legs flailed about uselessly, and its panic crashed into Roderick in such powerful waves that he thought it would split his head open.
The smaller one crawled up onto the bigger one’s underbelly and smashed its head dow
n onto it again and again until the larger cockroach’s underbelly cracked and brown gunk came oozing out. Roderick felt waves of desperate fear come from the larger cockroach.
NO, NO, NO, NO, PLEASE, PLEASE
Then its thoughts began to weaken:
Want more, want more, want more, want more LIFE . . . LIFE . . . LIFE.
Then, no more thoughts. The larger cockroach lay still. It was dead.
The smaller cockroach stopped and looked down at the other. It backed off the body slowly, almost respectfully, and then lifted its eyes to Roderick, who gulped.
MAKE FREE, he heard in his head.
In the heat of the moment Roderick had lied effortlessly about his ability to free the roaches from their confinement. If the cockroach let him through into the Circle of Mountains and he didn’t produce the gift of freedom he had promised when he returned, he would surely face the same fate as the bigger cockroach. Except the fight would be over a lot quicker.
He looked around nervously. He wanted to run. Then he realised: he could run away. The cockroach could not follow him. It was in its invisible cage. He stood up. That was the better way. He had promised them freedom, and he couldn’t deliver, so he may as well nick off now before he got himself into real trouble.
He slid down off the rock and went to get Fruitcake. He really wasn’t up to this. It was time to go home.
Roderick!
A powerful boom of a thought interrupted him, demanding attention. It felt different from the cockroach and, he realised, familiar.
Roderick!
It was the Queen!
Go, Roderick. Make me proud.
Without making any conscious decision to do so, Roderick grabbed Fruitcake’s reins and started down the hill towards the cockroach. He didn’t want to be walking down the hill, but his legs didn’t seem to know that. When he reached the clearing the force propelling him gave him a final push and then his legs let him stop.
The Adventures of Sir Roderick, the Not-Very Brave Page 7
