Contents of article "’Beyond the Hedge’ - Chapter 15 Part 1"
’Beyond the Hedge’
“Hang on, Pigsblanket. You don’t really mean that.” Sandy was surrounded by shocked faces. Even Lorimer was in her line of sight, dangling from her raised left arm where he’d pitched up when their undisciplined dancing came to an abrupt end.
“I’m afraid I do. You’re all behaving irresponsibly.” Jamie coughed discreetly. “Excluding the cat, that is.”
“And Conchita,” Peg said soberly. “I shouldn’t have whisked her off like that.”
The parrot was frantically tidying herself up after her first dancing lesson.
Lorimer clambered onto Sandy’s back again and Pongo flopped at her feet trying to appear suitably humbled. His instinct told him Pigsblanket wouldn’t take them back without first trying to rescue Leo. The boy was livid and quite right too. They’d been very stupid and deserved to be told off.
Jamie interceded on behalf of the others. “We’ve been living on our nerves since we left the palace and then Peg found the tunnel up ahead blocked by masses of horrid furry things, all teeth and claws.”
Pongo gave the Siamese a sly look. “You can’t move without tripping over cats these days.”
“I’ll let that pass for now,” Jamie said snootily.
Pigsblanket looked surprised. He’d heard stories about the near destruction of Sylvania by the Harpie and her hosts of demons but he’d always assumed the tales had grown in the telling. “It sounds as if you came across a bunch of scrablings. By all accounts they’re silly little squirts but very nasty collectively. Their claws are poisonous so it’s probably best we steer clear of them. Was there an ugly brute with them?”
“I didn’t realise you were there too, Pongo,” Jamie said in a quick aside.
“Not that I could see,” Peg supplied helpfully. “They were bemoaning the fact they’d been left to fend for themselves by someone called Balebreath.”
“That sounds like a snaglip. Those big lunks are even dafter than scrablings.”
“We were being followed and there was no means of escape,” said Sandy vehemently. “When our stalker turned out to be you, we were so relieved we momentarily flipped our lids.”
“Precisely,” said Lorimer, over her right shoulder, “although I might not have chosen those exact words.”
“If we behave ourselves from now on will you help us?”
“If you promise not to muck about.”
“We’ll toe the line.”
The others nodded earnestly.
“That’s good enough for me. It’s not my place to tell you what to do, Sandy. I ran away myself.”
“What you’re saying is people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.” Pongo received a swift jab in the ribs from Jamie. “What’s that for? It’s a reasonable comment.”
Pigsblanket swung the rucksack from his shoulder onto the ground. “Who’s hungry then?”
“I could eat a rancid bloater stuffed with rotten anchovies,” said the Siamese cheerfully.
“How about a crab and shrimp mousse instead?”
“That’s a tough decision, but put me down for the mousse.”
They discussed strategy while they ate. Pigsblanket consulted his compass and discovered the culvert was heading inland from the harbour. The spa water was being ferried underground from Moonglow Lake.
“It’s just as well you turned up when you did,” said Sandy, “we’d have carried on through the drain regardless. What now?”
“There must be access to the culvert for maintenance. Let’s press on and see if we can get down to the harbour that way.”
“What about the scrablings? Perhaps it was their eyes I saw through the pool grating.” Lorimer shuddered at the memory.
“We’ll deal with them if we have to, but I really ought to send Conchita back with a message. Have you paper and a pencil in there, Florin?”
“Help yourself.”
The parrot crawled under the folded cloak by Pigsblanket’s side.
“I don’t think she’s very keen and I don’t blame her.”
“I’m with the lobster,” said the dog. “You never know what might be lurking between here and the spa.”
“But I said I’d let Will know if I found you.”
“That was before you realised the culvert was full of monsters.”
“A slight exaggeration, Lorimer, but I wouldn’t fancy going back all by myself.”
“There’s no need to lay it on that thick, Pongo. I’m convinced. Now where is she?”
The dog started digging around in the folds of the cloak. “She’s in here somewhere, honest.”
With the parrot reassured, they set off again. Peg Leg continued to act as scout and the stars provided the minimum light necessary for them to find their way.
The gull reported back shortly afterwards. “The scrablings are still blocking the tunnel but they’re in a right paddy. I’d say they were in full panic mode.”
“How close are we?”
“Close enough to hear them if you listen hard enough.”
“What’s the plan, lad?” Vince asked solemnly. “Is there anything Florin and I can do to help?”
“Were you two responsible for Sandy’s dancing display earlier?”
“Aye, we were,” said Florin twitching with pride.
“I’d like you to perform again.”
“But you said we were to behave ourselves.”
“Yes, I did, but this is different. I think you might be able to scare off the scrablings.”
“We weren’t that bad, surely?”
“Of course not, Vince. You were very good as it happens.”
“I get it,” said Pongo. “You want them to entertain the scrablings.”
“Perhaps you could holler and hooch, Sandy,” suggested the sporran.
“Like we do when we’re dancing at weddings?”
“The very same. Why don’t we all get into the swing of it?”
And they did. The stars turned themselves to full beam and whizzed around like disco lights while the little gang got ready to dance up a storm.
Florin counted them in, “A-one, a-two, a-one, two, three, four…”
Off they danced with Sandy singing at the top of her voice, heeling and toeing as she went.
The scrablings didn’t know what had hit them. It was a terrifying spectacle for creatures who’d never seen a human child, let alone one who was doing a war dance in an animated skirt with a lively purse attached.
Jamie yowled and Pongo howled while they jigged and capered. The parrot and the seagull performed a raucous, aerial sword-dance without the swords and Pigsblanket made a series of noises that passed for bagpipes.
Lorimer was jumping up and down behind Sandy’s head but, unsurprisingly, that wasn’t fulfilling enough for a lobster of his temperament. He flung himself into the air where he performed an unintentional double somersault and was caught by Pigsblanket before he hit the ground and cracked himself open.
The wall of scrablings dissolved amid shouted recriminations and they scuttled off through the culvert cursing the snaglip and calling each other names.
“Splendid result,” declared Jamie. “Amazing what you can achieve with Scottish country dancing. It’s most invigorating.”
Crawford couldn’t believe the change in the Royal Raven when he arrived in the solarium. Things were pretty grim admittedly but she wasn’t responding the way he would have expected. It was as if she’d given up without a fight. Very un-Indigoletta.
Hamish excused himself and stepped through the curtains to join the little crow. They moved further into the room so they could talk without being overheard.
The Harpie was growing stronger and she had the Lizard Queen on the run. Celestina wanted to protect Corvine but Maligna was doggedly edging her back towards the palace and the town.
The raven sat motionless on the balustrade. She could no longer bear to watch. All her suppressed doubts and fears had come to the surface. Her powerful shoulders drooped and she sat hunched over like a vulture. She was consumed by her belief that Celestina would soon be defeated. If fate was remotely kind the Harpie would kill the Fairy Queen. To live on in Sylvania under the tyranny of Maligna with her cohorts of demons would be unendurable. Death would be a welcome release and not just for Celestina.
A scrogwit crouched on the glass roof above the balcony watching the raven’s decline with relish. To think this bird was feared and respected throughout the land. The so-called Royal Raven was little more than a parasite who leeched off those foolish enough to be taken in by her provocative posturing. The demon gestured to a figure squatting at the foot of a vast chimney. The creature moved across the roof on all fours to join its peer. There was no spoken exchange; they could read each other’s thoughts.
“What’s happened to Indigoletta, sir? I was with her earlier and she was positively formidable.”
“When I found her out on the balcony she was her usual redoubtable self. I noticed a change in her when she was telling me about the first battle for control of Sylvania. It was odd really as Celestina had the upper hand at that stage.”
“How are things now?”
“Not good. I made a promise to my wife that I’d take our daughter to a place of safety if…” Hamish faltered, unable to talk of defeat. “I can’t believe this has happened so quickly. A few days ago we were celebrating Sandy’s arrival and now we’re on the brink of destruction.”
A notion had presented itself to Crawford. He moved towards the balcony and peeked through the curtain. The Royal Raven had shrunk in on herself and was trembling violently.
“Great heavens, I must do something about this at once. If we are to help Her Majesty we have to believe she can defeat the Harpie. That’s imperative.” He ran onto the balcony at the very moment the scrogwits pounced on Indigoletta.
Crawford was briefly frozen to the spot but he cawed for help and Hamish drew his sword and went to his aid. The smaller demon leapt at the Prince and had its arm chopped off for its trouble. It sprang back onto the roof in a fountain of blood and ran off across the slates jibbering with futile rage.
The other scrogwit snarled and bared its disgusting teeth as it lunged at the Royal Raven. This was more than Crawford would tolerate. He flew at the abomination, flapping his wings so desperately that it slipped over the balcony and was left hanging by one gangly arm. Hamish slashed at its fingers and it fell to its death on a buttress several stories below.
“You should have let them kill me. Death at the hands of the Harpie will not be so quick.”
Crawford exploded with rage. “Snap out of it, you cowardly, self-pitying bag of old feathers!”
“What did you just say?”
Crawford squared up to her. “You heard me, you cantankerous old boiler!”
Hamish was unable to tear himself away from Crawford’s mesmerising performance.
“Who do you think you’re talking to?” said the raven with the first hint of anger in her voice. “You know how I feel about rudeness.”
“I couldn’t care less what you think anymore, you’re a washed-up old has-been. Why don’t you resign your position as Royal Raven and let someone else have a go? You’re as good as useless.”
Indigoletta’s eyes grew large and she thrust her head towards him. “I’ll give you old, you treacherous little skunk!”
A bright-eyed Crawford nodded at the Prince. “That’s more like it.”
“First you insult me and now you’re after my job.” Indigoletta poked him in the chest and pushed him back along the balustrade. “You’re an ungrateful, conniving little worm. I wouldn’t stuff a mattress with your mangy feathers. Listen carefully, pea brain. The position isn’t vacant and, even if it were, crows need not apply.”
“Welcome back, ma’am.”
“Don’t upset yourself, Cahoots, your mother’s a tough old boot. She’s not going to let a flying lizard get the better of her.”
“Isn’t there anything I can do, Minxie?”
“Look what happened before. You ended up having an early bath. With help like that, Maligna’s better off on her own.”
“If you really think it’s for the best,” said the dragon miserably.
Then, “Why did Gilbert and Leo rush off?”
“They’re avoiding Captain Grimshaw.”
“Why would they want to do that?”
“Your Uncle Pestilence wanted Gilbert to go for a swim. He didn’t fancy the idea in weather like this.”
“The storm’s moved out over the reef now, so maybe he’ll change his mind.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it, scaly face. He may be the biggest rat in the pack but he’s not the bravest.”
“Did you hear that, Leo? What a cheek!”
The rat and the cat were hiding inside a huge coil of rope on the foredeck. It was a bit of a squash so Leo was sitting on Gilbert’s shoulders. From time to time he’d sneak a peek to find out what was going on.
“Never mind what Minxie says, that’s just the way she is. I’d like to be able to trust the wazwatt. She’s no fan of Captain Grimshaw but she’s a bit too chummy with Maligna for my liking.”
“It’s a pity Pigsblanket ran away.”
“You can’t blame him. He wouldn’t have survived another run-in with Grimshaw.”
“I wish he’d taken us with him.”
“How could he? We were locked in our cabin.”
“I’d forgotten that. What about the First Mate? Who’d have thought he’d save my skin?”
“We can’t expect him to take us on. Can you imagine what would happen to Mr Malahyde if the Captain knew he’d helped us?”
Gilbert shivered as a series of horrible images flashed though his head. “Still, it’s good to know we have one friend on this tub. We’ll just have to fend for ourselves again which might prove a bit tricky. The two of us up against a bunch of dastardly cut-throats. How are your fencing skills?”
“About as good as yours, Gilb.”
“So no cutting, thrusting and parrying for us then.”
“A cut throat, perhaps.”
“I’ll oblige you if you don’t shut up!”
Leo was so startled he sank his claws into Gilbert’s head. A hand slammed over the rat’s mouth before he had a chance to squeal. Jedediah put his finger to his own mouth and backed away from them. He picked up some discarded sailcloth and tossed it casually over the coil of rope.
“At the double, sailor. There’s extra rum rations if you find the kitty and the big galoot. I’ve had a good poke around here and there’s no sign of ’em. Have one of the topmastmen report to me at once. The best view of the ship’s to be had from up there in the rigging.”
When Jock saw Grimpen running towards him out of the trees he almost collapsed with relief. The wolf was dismayed by the scene that met his eyes but he kept his emotions in check and quickly assessed the situation.
The crow was in a wretched state but he was unharmed. The pony’s condition was serious but by no means life-threatening. The same could not be said for the elf.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner, but the wood’s teeming with scrogwits and other foul monstrosities. I dispatched the one that did this to Alfie. From the state of it, you must have put up a good fight.”
“Not good enough,” said Jock mournfully.
“You saw off a pair of wolverines and a scrogwit, that’s no mean feat.”
“When I saw Angus sitting on the rock, I had my suspicions that all was not as it seemed, but it never occurred to me a scrogwit might be impersonating Alfie’s uncle. I didn’t realise they were that clever.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Jock. We’ve been plunged into a menacing world of shadow where reality has shifted and the usual rules no longer apply. Old Rook Wood has been polluted by the darkness that’s spreading throughout Crawdonia. We must get away from here fast if we are to have any chance of saving Alfie.”
Seven adolescent wolves entered the clearing and Grimpen set about issuing instructions. He crouched down and the others gently pulled the unconscious elf onto his back. Jock tugged the struntie wool cloak over Alfie’s limp body to protect him from the relentless drizzle.
The young wolves acted as outriders and Grimpen set off with Celia stumbling along behind him. Jock flew alongside the pony urging her on even though she was completely exhausted.
Malevolent eyes watched their progress but they travelled through the wood unmolested. Scrogwits are terrified of wolves who are immune to their particular brand of poison.
Grimpen finally came to a halt in front of an ancient oak on the edge of a hazel copse. He gave one high-pitched howl. A short wail came from somewhere inside the tree then a bark-covered door in the trunk opened and a pale face peered out.
The wolf’s tone was formal but friendly. “Wee Alfie Elf is in dire need of your skills if he is to survive a scrogwit bite.”
“No one’s sought my help in years,” said the Banshee wistfully. “I thought everyone had forgotten I was once a healer.”
“I have a long memory. Will you help us, Marta?”
“I’ll do everything I can to save him. You’d better bring the pony round to the back entrance. There’s an underground room where she can rest while I treat her wounds.”
Contrary to popular belief Banshees are not always miserable souls wringing their hands while they rant about the latest death. Some have special gifts which can be put to good use. Their melancholic disposition does have a habit of taking over which is why Marta gradually turned into the wailing wet blanket everyone falls over backwards to avoid.
Here was her chance to turn her life around and what better way was there than by saving the life of a dying elf?
The Banshee was stronger than her meagre frame indicated. She lifted Alfie easily from Grimpen’s back and carried him into her home inside the tree.
“Would you mind if I stay with him?”
“You’re most welcome, crow.”
Jock walked towards the old wolf. “Thank you for all you’ve done. Alfie would be dead had you not found us. I mustn’t keep you from your flock any longer.”
“The strunties are safe at Palace Farm. We moved them there after the first earthquakes. Now that my work is complete here, I’m going to Corvine to see if I can be of service to Her Majesty. I heard from one of Redshanks’ agents that the battle for control of Sylvania is already underway. A battalion of the fiercest Kelpien dwarves has been deployed along Old Rook’s boundary hedges to protect the hedgehorn patrols who were decimated by scrogwits. My wolves will patrol the area to keep those who wish you harm at bay.”
“Go carefully, Grimpen. I’ll join you as soon as I can.”
The wolf had one last look round then loped off into the night.
..........and if you just can’t wait for each weekly episode, you can buy ’Beyond the Hedge’
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