Instead of the pages of manuscripts, however, they were messily stacked with crudely made arms and armour.
The means by which the ornate and deadly weaponry of the past were crafted had been lost long ago and only a few lucky foxes still possessed those items which had escaped the destruction of times passing. Scarlett was one of them and felt the heft of the ancient blade by her side. In comparison, these new weapons were no better than a pup's toy. The swords were blunt and heavy, while the armour was a patchwork of reclaimed rubbish; fatly welded flattened tin cans and rough straps of iron foraged from the banks of the Thames.
A pair of foxes stood guard at the entrance to the armoury and she knew there would be another pair on the other side. Hardly breaking her stride, she swept up a mouldy helmet and tossed it to the side before diving against the wall in the opposite direction.
The foxes, shocked out of their boredom, yelped and ran into the dark towards the noise. Sliding along the wall, she reached the iron studded door and pulled down on the handle until it silently swung open on well oiled hinges.
“Must be a rat!” she heard one of the foxes call from the dark.
“Find it! I haven't eaten a thing this shift,” she heard from another.
Before the door was fully open she had leapt above it onto a sword shaped stone lintel into which was ornately and ironically carved the words; A Word May Be Mightier Than A Sword .
Two heads poked through the door below her perch.
“Widge?...Widge!...Did I hear you say rats? Come on I knew there were rats in here. Let's find some for ourselves.”
They bound into the room, unawares of the black form dropping to the ground behind them, passing out of the library. She swung the door closed behind her and locked it. The foxes would be stuck until the next shift change several hours off.
The path ahead was lit by the occasional dim, flickering, incandescent bulb. An ornate and velvety wallpaper hung in shreds from the walls and the air was musty and damp. She was getting close to the heart of the palace and knew there would be more guards as well as servants and administrators.
A loud repetitious squeak came from around the corner and she quickly hid behind the headless remnants of a large sculpture against the wall. A middle aged vixen emerged harnessed to a cart full of foul smelling fabric.
“Laundry,” Scarlett whispered to herself, hugging more closely what she could now see was a stone knight. Creeping onto the dignified back she crouched as low as possible, feeling like one of the felines they occasionally found sneaking into the Burrow. She held her breath, waiting for the vixen to pass below her. Deftly hopping into the air she sunk silently into the rags of leather armour and undergarments. The vixen didn't hesitate in her pulling even when the entire cart shifted to the side from Scarlett's weight.
Burying herself deep amongst the clothing, she tried to breath exclusively from her mouth in order to protect her nose from the offending smell.
Acey's career path had not been the most illustrious one. His modest and kindly nature had quickly lead to a demotion from being a palace guard to being head of guard laundry. Scarlett hoped the cart was headed directly for him.
They went slowly, shadow guards, councillors and soldiers occasionally trotting past. After the third or fourth time Scarlett had needed to keep herself from vomiting or passing out, they came to a stop. She heard the sound of a door knocker on hard wood and peered over the edge of the basket to discover they had come to a well preserved and gilded door.
“Yes?” A nearly invisible hatch had opened and a well groomed vixen spoke, sticking her eye to the opening.
“Oh, Acca.”
Alodia opened the door and stood in an elegant gown.
“Please come in. My husband is in the other room with Seaver. Gremian doesn't have much patience for his sons so it shouldn't be long, but you'll need to wait for his laundry. You have to put his basket on top of the others. You know how much he hates to mingle his dirties with the dirties of others.”
“Yes, mam,” the one called Acca murmered.
“What has been going on outside? I haven't left the palace in over a week. My husband says he is looking for the Inari as well as the Sky Fighter. I hope Daegal is all right.”
“I am too tired, mam, at day's end to keep up with anything but the laundry. I have seen and witnessed enough controversy in London not to be too concerned when a new scandal comes to life.”
“Still...,” Alodia said glancing at the door to Gremian's office. “Acca, you've been so kind to me all these years. I need you to promise me something.”
“Of course, mam, you have been good to me...and my family, as well.”
“There will come a time soon when I will tell you to leave the burrow and go to the surface and not to return. Promise me that when I tell you to, you will leave with your family.”
“Mam, I have never left the burrow in all my life but I will do what you say. Mam?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Alodia paused, given the directness of the servant's question, then sighed.
“There is to be a cleansing,” she said, cutting herself short, yet visibly relieved, as if she had just released some viral secret into the community. “My husband has been talking about it since Samson escaped. It will take some time, but it is to be burrow-wide. I fear very few are meant to survive. When the time is close he will distribute these to every corner of London.”
“A cleansing,” Acca whispered, taking the flier from Alodia. “Like in the myths. Are you sure you heard right, my lady?”
“He has been raging. He told me the cleansing would bring a new life to the Burrow. A life that I can only imagine will be worse than this already horrid one. Some of the councillors tried to leave, with their families, to find a life on the surface. He has already hunted them down. They were flayed in the square and their hides hung in the council chamber, even the little pups.” She was shaking and on the verge of tears, but shook herself realizing she had said far to much to the old laundry servant. “It has been a stressful week, Acca, for all of us. I'm sorry about that. I'm sure Gremian is doing the right thing for all of us.”
Acca looked at her with weary eyes, not sure what to think of the princess, then spoke.
“If it is all right with you, mam, I'll come back for the Chairman's dirties later. You are right we shouldn't mix his with these.”
“Yes, of course, that is a good idea.”
Alodia helped Acca out the door and watched her hobble away.
Scarlett remained seated against the side of the wicker basket lost in thought.
“A cleansing. What is a cleansing? Whatever it is it must be bad. Let's hope I find Acey quickly and am out of here even more quickly.”
The speed of the cart picked up as they rolled down an incline. The air became heavier and she could hear an occasional hiss of escaping steam.
They rolled into a room and came to a halt.
“You can come out of there now. Whoever you are. I won't raise the alarm,” Acca barked, coughing through the thick air.
Freezing momentarily, Scarlett eventually emerged from amongst the dirties looking a bit like the rags themselves.
“How long have you known I was here?” Scarlett asked.
“Since you jumped in. I've been pulling this cart with the same number of garments every day for the past twenty years. I'd notice the change in weight if a mouse crawled in. Now, how can I help you?”
“I'm looking for Acey.”
“Acey? That fool? He's down the hall sitting in his uniform thinking about the good old days. Why do you want him? He's of no use to anyone.”
“That's my business,” Scarlett said.
“Mine too. He's my boss, although he does nothing to run this place. Do what you will. I need to get back to work, then back to the councillor's chambers.”
“How can you continue to work after what you just heard?”
“When you reach my age, pup, you realize the only way to dea
l with the continuous birth of conspiracy after conspiracy is to keep your head down and focus on your work. Regardless of who is in charge here, they will have laundry and they will need it washed. Here, take this thing,” She said handing the crumpled flier from Alodia to Scarlett. “I don't want to know what it says. Nothing but trouble can come of it. I'll be squeaking down these halls until the day I die, cleansing or no, and my ghost will probably continue to do it afterwards. I couldn't stop even if I wanted to.” She turned to the cart and plunged her snout amongst the dirties throwing a mouthful of them into a large stone pool of bubbling water.
Scarlett turned to leave, then turned back. “Life is hard. Harder than it ever has been before. But I believe there is hope.”
“Hope is a dream. All we have is work,” Acca said, continuing to toss in the clothing.
“Good luck, Acca. And thank you,” Scarlett said, before turning to leave.
Acca stopped and turned to look at Scarlett.
“What hope?” she said.
“I don't know...I think...I think...I believe a child of Able has returned to the Burrow,” was all she said before bounding away.
Acca smiled briefly, then continued her work.
“A child of Able, cleansing be damned” she said to the folds.
The laundry was a busy place, with foxes and Shadow Foxes running in and out of rooms along the hall, weighted down with laundry from sets of saddlebags strapped to their backs. None of them paid any attention to the blackened shape of Scarlett as she passed. The laundry connected to the baths, and most would assume she was a guard coming below for a wash.
An old steel insignia of the council guard hung from a nail on one side of the broken oaken door which Scarlett assumed led to Acey's quarters. Barely audible mumbling came from the other side of the door and she sniffed tentatively at the jamb before giving the rough wood a scratch and a push.
The door swung open and she found herself looking at the back of the most impressively pressed suit worn by the most excessively groomed fox she had ever seen. Steam hung in the air and glowed red from a partially open furnace at the back of the room. Pipes twisted and turned along the ceiling and walls, giving off an intense heat.
The steam made her cough.
“What? It's nothing. I was merely checking the press.” Acey said as he spun around to face Scarlett.
“Who are you?” he said. “Did that creature Ham send you down to spy on me?! I've got to try the garments to make sure they hang correctly. So, off with you.”
“Acey, I don't know Ham. My name is Scarlett. I am Ursula's daughter,” Scarlett said trying to catch his nervously flitting eyes.
“Ha...HA!...I have you. Ursula? I have no idea who you are talking about. Ha...HA! Besides her daughter is but a pup! That is, if she had a pup...”
Clearly the constant inhalation of soap infused steam had begun to scrub Acey's mind clean in the wrong way, Scarlett thought. He began to hastily but respectfully remove the uniform he was wearing, first by unpinning and setting a few military medals on a pipe shelf behind him.
“Acey, Sir. May I address a guard of the council?” She said taking on an officious tone.
Her words hit him like a breath of fresh air and he held his head high and began to rewind his unbuttoning until the suit was comfortably resting on his shoulders again. He even quickly replaced a few of the medals.
“Young pup. You may,” he said, matching her tone. “How may I be of service?
“Thank you, Sir.” She began. “It is about your father and his...collection.”
“My father? I see. Then you really are Ursula's daughter. It was only she and that fat Inari oaf that knew who my father was. Are you working for the Inari? If you are, I have no patience for you.”
Scarlett had been expecting this conflict of interest and had been devising a plan to heal things between him and Daegal even if the leader of the Inari wasn't aware of it.
“I am here for two reasons,” she began, deftly avoiding his question. “One concerns your father but the other far more important reason concerns yourself and your years of experience as a soldier.”
“I see...” he said his eyes glowing slightly more brightly through the heat. “You best start with the important matters first.”
“Of course, Sir. This is awkward so I would ask your patience.”
“Best to come out with it straight. No reason to beat about a dead rat.”
“Yes. I think that it is fair to say that there is no soldier who has been around as long as yourself,” she said, thinking this was basically the truth given that most of the soldiers were killed at a young age, either in one of the darker corners of the burrow or by failing Gremian in some way. Acey had survived Gremian's wrath by being such an incapable soldier that he was more amusing than he was an annoyance.
“Yes, I would agree with that,” Acey said, standing slightly taller.
“Your work down here is an important work and our fear is that you would not deem our troubles reason enough to leave your current place.”
“Indeed, young pup, there would need to be a grave justification for me to leave my duties.”
“Yes...yes. All I can say is that lives lie in the balance. The lives of soldiers.”
“This would be an important enough reason.”
“Daegal needs your help. Our soldiers need proper training, so briefly, we need you to become consultant leader of the Inari and consultant head of Inari combative strategy.”
He looked stunned for a moment and then glanced around the room.
“I'll take it!” he yelped, his voice cracking from eagerness.
“You will! Oh, what a relief.”
“That Daegal couldn't lead an army of ants, let alone trained foxes. Besides, the Inari and the Palace have a long history of working together. It is my duty to set them straight.
“Indeed, the reason Daegal broke into the palace during your watch and stole the Councillor's undergarments was only a test.”
“A test?”
“Yes, the Supreme Councillor organized it all. He needed you to work for the Inari but couldn't let his most experienced soldier go without seeming completely mad in front of the rest of the council. So he created this theft scenario in order for it to appear that you had failed and could therefore leave the palace.
“I see. It all makes sense. That is why it all happened so quickly. That is why I was relocated down here so abrupty. Well, you can send that Daegal my regards and let him know that I will serve the Inari as I have served the palace, with loyalty and constancy.”
“Good. I'm so relieved. My mission has been accomplished. I was so worried about a failure of my own.”
“Oh, pup, failure is nothing to fear. You will soon find that leaders are far from the perfection they make themselves appear to be.”
“You must continue your duties here for a bit but the Inari will contact you.”
“No, no, no. I would consider it my duty to leave today.”
“Oh, okay, but we must leave in secret. Your mission is a clandestine one and the other guards in the palace must not realize you have left,” Scarlett said, knowing no one would notice Acey's departure anyway.
“This other matter about my father?” He asked, as he gathered the remaining medals and a fox-shaped silver key from the pipe.
“Yes. Thank you. I nearly forgot. A small matter, really. We need to borrow your grandfathers silver key for a bit.”
“What, this broken thing? Why would you ever need this thing?”
“I'm just the messenger, Sir, at the paw of my superiors, I'm sure you understand that they wouldn't let me in on their top secret plans,” she said, feeling a flutter of guilt at the lie.
“Now, a soldier is a cog, but an important cog, remember that. Without all those cogs the machine of war couldn't churn forwards. Don't concern yourself, I will look for my answer from Daegal himself. I took this artefact from my father's tomb reluctantly, as he never was without it, but I want
ed to remember him in some way. It really is important to me, but I work for the Inari now. I will deliver it to Daegal myself. Are you ready to leave?”
He indicated towards a small door, set in a massive pipe running from floor to ceiling in the corner.
She gave the door a questioning and dubious look.
“Don't worry. It's the quickest way out of the palace. The laundry water isn't too hot by the time it reaches the waste pipe and you are far more filthy than that water anyway. You'll come out smelling fresh as flowers.”
He opened the door with a flick, releasing a large puff of steam infused with an aroma of lavender.
“Vixens first,” he said with a sincere smile.
She returned his smile, gave a sigh, and jumped in.
Chapter Thirteen
Scarlett decided the best mental strategy was to close her eyes and surrender to the swift, mushy current. First there was a blast of hot steam, then she was in free-fall for what felt like an eternity, before landing with a frothing splash in a large copper pipe with a flow of soapy bubbles. She heard another splash behind her which she assumed was Acey. Pressure built in her ears as she spun in the pipe until with a hot whoosh she found herself standing on a gristly white tile floor looking at an incredibly long ladder ascending to a pinprick of moonlight far above.
Acey spat out from the wall behind her and adjusted his uniform with a great shake once he scrambled back onto his paws.
“This is an old sewer,” he said. “Up the ladder and we are out of the burrow.”
He hesitated before taking the lead.
“Will we be seeing your Mother?”
“Yes. As soon as we reach the surface we will head to her.”
“Very good,” he replied quickly. “You've cleaned up nicely, by the way.”
“Thanks. There's nothing like a refreshing turn with the dirty laundry at the end of a long day.”
Scarlett was relieved to breathe the fresh night air as they reached the top of the ladder. After fifteen years of living on the surface, she had grown unaccustomed to the heavy cramped air of the burrow. A dense rain beat down as she peered through a hefty mop of vines which had grown over the chunky stone well they were emerging from. As they crept out of the hole, a quiet overgrown dell set in a forgotten corner of Hyde Park hid their shadowy forms from the Hantsa crunching by on a nearby trail. She knew the surface of London very well from a lifetime of exploration and quickly got her bearings. Acey, however, looked less sure of himself.
The Progeny of Able (The Burrow of London Series Book 1) Page 23
