by Robin Jarvis
There were many things Morgan did not understand. He for one did not know why he had to come to Blackheath on this windy night – couldn’t all this stuff have been done in the sewers? That would keep the lads quiet for a while. Morgan stiffened. It was windy. Before there had been a slight breeze but now, how that wind howled! It wasn’t natural.
The candle flame was blown here and there, battered down by the wind but not, extinguished.
Mercy, the rat thought with round, staring eyes.
The smoke from the candle was snatched and torn by the wind.
‘Oh breath of the darkest night,’ Jupiter began again. ‘Take the form I have designed. Kiss the final embrace and step down from your throne in the void.’
Morgan was nearly knocked off his feet by the rending gale. It stampeded out from the black sky and whirled about the circle.
Above Morgan’s head the eyes in the crystal shot beams of red, flickering light upwards and luminous vapours trailed off the glass in great swirls.
Much as he wanted to, Morgan could not close his eyes. ‘Stone me, what next?’ he yammered wildly.
The four clusters of objects that he had placed, around the circle suddenly burst into flames and presently there was a ring of fire surrounding him. But the fire was a sickly purple in colour with pulses of red running through, a red that looked like rivers of blood.
‘Do not enter here,’ Jupiter spoke into the wind. ‘Consume your feast and begin the task appointed.’
The thick dark smoke curled about the objects, then it swirled over the flames and rose high into the darkness.
Morgan’s stumpy tail swung awkwardly between his legs. Then he heard voices in the air. They whistled and yelled, but they were hollow sounds with no body.
They came from the smoke and worst of all, they called his name.
Morgan cowered down, still holding the crystal aloft. He could hear Jupiter’s voice laughing madly inside it.
Despite himself the rat continued to watch the scene, before him, as though he was compelled to do so. He began to see forms in the ever-moving smoke – at first he thought it was imagination or madness taking over. Little figures, faint and indistinct, darted through the dark cloud. The empty voices grew louder as they found bodies to house themselves in. Soon the smoke was writhing with them.
Morgan bit his lip as he stared about him in terror. The clamour pressed ever closer but now there was no smoke, only squat deformed creatures that flew and billowed thickly overhead. They joined in with Jupiter’s laughter.
Wild was the dance around the circle. The figures wheeled in mad frenzies. The purple flames suddenly became yellow and roared higher. With a yell the creatures raced through them emerging as yellow glowing things themselves. Faster and faster they spun until Morgan’s head ached. He wished he had never come to this nightmare place.
‘Enough,’ cried Jupiter above the din. Immediately there was silence and the forms hung foggily in the air waiting for his commands.
‘Do your work,’ he ordered.
Without any further ado they opened their dark mouths and with a shock Morgan realised that he could see straight through them – they were ghostly ephemeral things.
A shout went amongst them and at once they all dived to the ground, sinking into the soil and vanishing with a great hiss like a thousand snakes. The flames around the circle reached up suddenly very high. Morgan found himself inside a raging column of bright fire, and then, it too, disappeared. The bones and the other items had gone. Morgan looked for them but there was no trace of anything – he had the unpleasant idea that they had been consumed. There was no sign to suggest the ritual that had just taken place. All was quiet and a light breeze swung the rat’s earring gently to and fro.
‘Is it over now, my Lord?’ he ventured warily.
‘Yes,’ said Jupiter. ‘For the moment you can return to my chamber.’
‘Did I do well, Your Highness?’
‘Magnificently Morgan – my trusted one. Now you must come back to me.’
Morgan lowered the crystal. The fires within it failed and the burning eyes closed. It was just a dark glass globe once more with a twist of colours in the centre.
Shaking, Morgan put the crystal in the sack and began the journey to the sewers.
11. Dangerous Company
Audrey had fainted when One-Eyed Jake and his lads had pulled her roughly through the Grille. Her unconscious form had been slung over his shoulder and they had slipped quietly back to the sewers.
‘What about the rest of the miceys in there, Jake?’ asked Fletch. ‘Aren’t we gonna catch a few for breakfast?’
‘This is the one we want,’ replied the leader sternly. ‘I’m not gonna risk her scarperin’ while you lot fiddle with yer peelin’.’
Fletch licked his teeth and looked at him for a moment. ‘Yes, right again Jake – you always know what’s for the best.’ After a while Fletch turned to the five other rats and muttered to them. One of them, a squint-eyed brute known as Leering Macky started to grumble loudly.
‘You said as how we could have mouse, an’ all we get is her. Not right, that ain’t. We ought to go back an’ grab a few, a whole one each mebbe.’
Jake whirled around snarling angrily. He clasped Macky’s throat tightly and squeezed until blood trickled down his arm.
‘Keep it up, Macky lad,’ he hissed. ‘You’ll do what I say or by Jupiter I’ll stick you good and proper!’
Leering Macky swivelled his eyes: they looked out in two directions at once. ‘You’re the boss,’ he snivelled.
Jake released him and glanced at the others. The rats blinked at him. The shadow of a smile flickered across Fletch’s snout.
‘Listen all of yer,’ Jake snarled. ‘No one goes back and no one touches this mouse either – right?’
The rats shuffled awkwardly and Macky wiped the blood from his neck. Fletch bowed his head to Jake to show that he understood perfectly, then he stared at Audrey coldly and said, ‘You make a fine wet-nurse, Jake.’
It broke the tension and Jake laughed; the others joined in. It was then that Audrey woke from her faint. Slumped over Jake’s shoulder she emerged from her dark dreams into a reality that was far worse. Her eye-lids fluttered; she heard the laughter and was confused, thinking that she was still dreaming.
‘Look there Jake,’ nodded Fletch. ‘The skirt’s wakin’.’
‘Is she now?’ Jake pulled Audrey down from his shoulder and set her on her feet.
The mouse sagged to the floor. Jake grabbed her lace collar and dragged her up again. Coughing, Audrey glared at him. She saw his eye patch and recognised him as one of the three she and Piccadilly had found cornering her brother, Oswald and Twit. Audrey almost smiled as she recalled that this was the rat she had bitten on the ear.
‘You taste foul,’ she said acidly.
For a moment Jake was puzzled, then he remembered her too. ‘So, it was you was it? Well, don’t try it again or I’ll bite back.’
‘What do you want with me?’ Audrey asked defiantly.
Jake sneered at her. ‘Well I could tell you what the lads here want from yer: breakfast.’
She looked beyond him to the six rats staring at her. She didn’t like the look of them at all. Leering Macky rolled his eyes at her. Audrey shuddered under his gaze, and glanced at the tatty brown rat with spots on his nose; Fletch bared his teeth.
‘Where are you taking me?’ she demanded, determined not to show any fear.
Jake stroked his whiskers and chuckled. ‘Got some guts ain’t yer? A proper Miss Uppity! Let’s just say, me dear, you’re off to meet someone who’s right keen to see yer.’
One of the rats laughed horribly. Audrey frowned, trying to figure it out. Why had these rats gone to all this trouble? She was still alive, so they must have a good reason. She pondered on who would want to see her down in the sewers.
‘Madame Akkikuyu?’ she wondered out loud.
Jake guffawed. ‘’Tain’t that old bag.
What made you think it would be her? No, this is someone really . . .’ he said the last word delicately, ‘ . . . special.’
Again one of the rats laughed. ‘Now, we’d best be off.’ Jake prodded her with one of his claws. ‘You’re fit to walk’ He pushed her in front of him and the party set off.
Audrey stumbled ahead of Jake; the thought of him immediately behind was enough to keep her going at a fast pace. Even so, the claws on his long feet would occasionally catch her heels. Fletch followed Jake and behind him came Leering Macky. Behind him was Vinegar Pete. Pete had a bald patch on his egg-shaped head and a perpetually sour expression on his face as though he was continually chewing lemons – hence his name. Bringing up the rear were three old rats. On their backs they carried sacks which contained provisions: dried meat and a flask or two of potent liquor acquired by Jake for his own personal use. The three rats had lost their youth and the rebellious vigour that went with it. They had accepted their orders and their burdens with resignation. At least they would be fed, and work in the mines for them was postponed.
Fletch kept turning and talking to Micky and Pete in a hushed whisper, every now and then stealing a sly glance at Jake. The two rats listened to him with grim, set faces.
Audrey was growing tired. The rat march was too fast for her small legs. More and more she staggered and Jake’s sharp claws clipped her feet. Often a hard shove thrust her forward until she could go no further. She spun round and planted her feet firmly on the brick ledge.
‘I’m not moving one bit until I’ve rested a while,’ she said flatly. It was daring, but she was curious to know how far she could push these rats – they were obviously not going to kill her themselves.
Jake was furious. He snatched her up and held her over the sewer ledge. Audrey’s legs dangled over the sheer drop. Far below she could hear the sewer water surging and bubbling.
‘Listen to me, my lovely little miss,’ he growled menacingly. ‘I may not be able to kill you here and now but there are other things I can do – things that will make you wish I had killed you.’ He shook her violently.
For the first time Audrey was truly frightened. She had gone too far. She could only hope a way of escape would show itself before they reached their destination.
‘Put me down,’ she squeaked – her voice was not as confident as it had been. Jake threw her roughly on to the ledge.
‘You’ve got to learn, miss! I don’t take that sort of chat from no one – havin’ a skirt won’t save you. See this eye patch? Wanna know how I got my eye poked out?’
Audrey sank against the wall, shaking her head and breathing in short gasps.
‘She were bigger’n you,’ Jake growled.
Leering Macky snorted with amusement. ‘Peg-Leg Meg they call her now,’ he cackled.
‘That’s right,’ confirmed Jake. ‘Tore it clean off in a temper I did – not so pretty now when she hobbles about.’ For a moment, Audrey saw the hatred burning in his eye.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘Come, come Jake,’ began Fletch swaggering up. ‘Let’s deliver her and have done, eh?’
Jake relaxed. ‘Get up,’ he told her. Audrey obeyed, biting her lip to hold back all the insults. They marched on. The tunnels soon divided into three. The rat party continued straight ahead ignoring the openings that they passed.
Suddenly one of the old rats right at the back gave a shout. There was a moment of confusion – the rat cried out in his thin, cracked voice and above it floated a high surprised yell.
Piccadilly had run all the way from the sleeping chamber where he had left Oswald and on turning round a blind corner, slammed into the doddery old rat. Shock and surprise registered on both faces before the grey mouse turned and fled up the tunnel. He never even saw Audrey at the front of the rat pack.
Audrey recognised his voice though, and it brought her courage. She saw the bewilderment of the rats as Jake laid into the one who had let Piccadilly escape. She saw her chance and ran.
But Audrey was not fast enough. Jake bore down on her and caught her streaming hair. He pulled and dragged her back to his comrades.
‘It was the grey,’ said Fletch dryly.
‘Were it now?’ spat Jake angrily. ‘So the other fools lost him – wonder what happened to the white one?’ Audrey wondered too.
‘What we gonna do?’ Fletch inquired,
Jake staggered back from his appalling breath and shook his head short-temperedly. ‘Darn everything!’ he cursed.
‘Didn’t His Highness demand both dainties?’ continued Fletch. ‘The skirt and the grey?’, He coughed affectedly. ‘Are we to chase him?’
‘Can’t drag this wench on a chase,’ shouted Jake, shaking Audrey by her hair.
‘I would be honoured to watch her whilst you caught the other,’ Fletch said softly.
‘Hah! I bet you would, Fletchy. No, I’ll guard her and I think it’s best if you stay by me.’ He looked quickly at the five rats left. ‘Macky and Pete,’ he called. ‘You go get that grey – alive, right?’
The two rats whooped and darted up the tunnel after Piccadilly.
‘Bring ’im back here!’ Jake shouted. He motioned to the three oldsters. ‘Hey, you fogies: break out your packs. Might as well stay here till they come back.’
The old rats pulled the sacks from their backs and sat down, their bones cracking as they slouched over the bags. Jake let go of Audrey’s hair.’
‘I’m faster ‘n you are so don’t bother,’ he warned.
Audrey rubbed her sore head. She would not try to run off again. Her ribbon had come loose and it hung down straggly and crumpled. She took it in her paws and smoothed it out.
As she was retying it in her hair Jake reached over and hauled one of the sacks to himself. He opened it, stuck his snout in and ferreted about inside.
Fletch looked bored. ‘How long we stayin’ here?’ he asked. He kicked a stone off the ledge and listened to it plop in the water below.
‘Till they come back an’ I say we can go,’ Jake said into the sack.
Fletch slouched down. ‘It’s cold ’ere and there’s a terrible draught whistling round yer ears,’ he grumbled, wrapping his tail about him.
Audrey felt the cold too but she tried not to shiver. Down in the sewers the winter lingered.
Jake raised his head out of the sack; there were greasy stains round his mouth, ‘There’s wood in that bag there,’ he mumbled spitting out bits of meat. ‘The spare torches we brought – use those and light a fire.’
One of the rats handed the sack to Fletch. They were glad of a rest, and they watched Jake keenly as he stuffed his face, marking where the scraps fell for later.
Fletch pulled out four pieces of wood. They had rags bound about one end and these had been steeped in fat. He took from the sack two stones and some fluffy material. Fletch struck the stones together near the woolly stuff and waited for the sparks to ignite it.
Presently a cracking fire burned on the sewer ledge. The firelight played over Audrey’s delicate features, picking out the chestnut colour in her fur and turning the lace of her collar and skirt a rich gold. Jake looked up from his guzzling and his one beady eye sparkled at her like a fire itself.
Fletch rubbed his claws together and held them near the flames. ‘Got anything in there for us, boss?’ he asked politely.
Jake threw him a lump of gristle and Fletch dived on it, sucking, chewing, gnawing and crunching until there was nothing left. He licked his lips carefully.
The three rats looked miserably at one another. Jake spotted them and tossed them a chunk of something he had found inedible. They fell on it and fought each other for a lick of it – in fact they had more of a meal biting one another than from the sorry lump.
‘Gis that sack,’ Jake ordered Fletch. He was handed the last remaining bag and from it he brought out two large flasks. Jake opened one and poured a thick brown liquid down his throat. Then he belched.
‘What’s keepin’ Pete an’ Mac
ky?’ he wondered.
‘Mebbe that grey is givin’ them a good chase,’ replied Fletch. ‘He’s done it before.’
‘So long as that’s all he’s givin’ ’em! They better not peel him or I’ll peel them.’ It was no idle threat: Jake had eaten rat before now and liked it. He took another long swig from the flask then flung the half-empty vessel to Fletch who gurgled appreciatively and guzzled it down.
The old rats were left to sniff the empty bottle and stick their tongues in at the neck to catch any last dregs.
Jake uncorked the other and offered it to Audrey. ‘Want some, missy?’ he asked. She shook her head. ‘Warm yer good an’ proper – put fire in those veins of yours.’
‘No, thank you.’
‘Suit yourself, all the more fer me.’ He tipped it up and swallowed. ‘Ah!’ he sighed, his wet and frothy mouth glistening in the firelight. ‘That’s better!’ He scratched his belly and looked at her fully.
Audrey began to edge out of the circle of dancing light, uneasy at this dangerous rat. A stern tap of Jake’s claws on the ground stopped her.
‘Don’t be so keen to go,’ he said. He threw the flask to Fletch and leaned forward, the orange firelight flickering in his eye.
‘Where’s your dangler?’ he asked. ‘I thought all you squeakers had ’em.’ He reached out to the place where the mousebrass should have been.
Audrey flinched from him. ‘I lost it,’ she stammered, ‘when I bit you.’
Jake grinned. ‘Oh, so that’s what Skinner found, was it? He kept that close. So what happens to you now?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Do you get another one? Wouldn’t mind ‘one meself.’
‘No, we’re only allowed one – that was mine.’ Her eyes looked away from Jake. He unnerved her.
