Read The Island of Whispers Online

Authors: Brendan Gisby

Tags: #Animals, #Fiction, #oppression, #literary, #liberation, #watership down, #rats

The Island of Whispers (17 page)


Up ahead and down to our right,’ Twisted Foot said to the
group behind him.

Up ahead and
down to our right, he repeated to himself. That was where it was:
the land that he and Long Ears had spoken about ... how long ago
now? It was only days, he knew. It seemed much, much longer. He
thought that it was just a dream back then, but the dream had
almost become reality.

It wasn’t long
before they emerged from the belly. In front of them was a long
stretch of walkway that would take them to the end of the giant.
Below them was the first in a series of gigantic stone legs which
held up the giant. When Twisted Foot looked down through the
parapet bordering the walkway, he could see that the leg was
planted not in water, but in rock. They had reached land!

The group had
come to a halt. Twisted Foot was still peering down at the giant’s
leg. If we continue, he reasoned with himself, the way ahead is
bound to lead us straight to the Two-Legs. He could sense it. But
if we descend here, we’ll be on land more quickly. Besides, it’s
darker down there, safer.


Down here,’ he announced at last. ‘We’ll go down
here.’

Small Face
looked terrified.


B-but it’s straight down,’ he wailed. ‘W-we’ll never make
it.’

Slayer pushed
through the group, crawled through the parapet and climbed onto the
top of the leg.


Watch me,’ he said.

Accustomed to
negotiating the near-perpendicular walls around the Scavengers’
lair, Slayer clambered easily down the huge leg. He was almost
halfway to the ground when Twisted Foot began to follow him.


If I can do it with only three working feet,’ he called to the
others, ‘then you can all do it.’

The rest
followed him in turn. Even Small Face, after some hesitation,
commenced a slow, nervous descent. Once again, Long Ears took up
the rear.

As he had done
on countless occasions before, Long Snout, ancient Chamberlain of
the Secret World, stood erect in the centre of the platform in the
Common lair and emitted a long, loud, piercing screech. His calls
on those past occasions were intended to command the attention of
the Assembly, to bring those assembled to order. His call this time
had a different purpose. He was announcing to the underworld that
the revolt was over, that he was back in control.

He looked
around the platform at the brave warriors who had helped him to
victory and at the many corpses piled around them. At his own feet
lay Slasher’s mangled body; the new slave-King had fought well, but
his reign had been short-lived. He and the rest of them – all the
slaves who had been foolish enough to linger outside of the
Scavengers’ lair – were all dead now.

Long Snout
emitted another bloodcurdling screech and then leapt from the
platform. He would forge a new society out of this massacre, this
devastation. A society that was stronger and more vigilant and more
loyal than before. He needed time to plan this new society, to work
out the details. But first there was a long outstanding task to
care of. And then he needed to rest; he hadn’t slept for a long,
long time.


Come with me, Chief Protector!’ he roared.

As he moved
quickly to his nest in the sanctum of the Inner Circle, with Broken
Tail limping behind him, he suddenly remembered the explosions on
the outside world before the battle began. All of the warriors had
been required for the assault on the slaves, so none had kept watch
above, none would be able to relate the cause of the explosions.
It’s of no consequence, he decided.

 


o –


Chapter Thirty-Eight –

 

They had all
descended safely from the giant’s leg. They were huddled together
below the giant now, gazing around them, feeling small and lost in
this strange land, but happy to be squatting on hard ground again.
Directly across from them was a steep hillside, which was covered
with grass and bushes and a few trees. Only Twisted Foot, Long Ears
and Small Face, as he-rats from the Watchers’ lair, had seen those
things before, and, even then, only at a distance.

If we are to
get away from the lights on the giant and reach our new land,
Twisted Foot reasoned to himself, the hillside is the right way to
go. He started to lead the group in that direction, but he found
that Long Ears was ahead of him.


There’s water over here,’ Long Ears was shouting.

Before he had
seen it or sensed it, Long Ears had heard the water bubbling in the
tiny burn that ran along the foot of the hill.


And it tastes good,’ he added, raising his wet
muzzle.

Soon, they
were all lapping greedily at the edge of the burn, their backs to
the giant. Long Ears had been correct: the water tasted good. In
fact, it was the best water that they had ever lapped: cold and
clear, and devoid of the muddy taste of the pool in the
underworld.

Their thirsts
slaked, they leapt over the burn and began their ascent of the
hill. The soft ground below their feet felt odd at first, the long
grass tickled their bodies, and the dark shapes of the bushes and
trees seemed menacing, but the climb itself was easy. It was only
when they had almost reached the top of the slope that some of them
noticed Slayer’s absence.

Twisted Foot
looked back down the hill. Like a good Watcher, he systematically
scanned the slope, the area around the burn and the ground below
the giant’s leg. There was no movement and no sign of the little
Scavenger.


Don’t worry,’ he said at length, ��he’ll catch up.’

Then he turned
round and continued to climb.

At the top of
the slope, there was a strip of flat ground several feet wide,
which curved away to their left and right. They crouched in the
middle of the ground and looked about. On one side, they had a
clear view of the giant, still glowing brilliantly; the
ever-restless waters below the giant; and the familiar shape of the
land from which they had escaped. On the other side, the ground
gave way abruptly to a sheer rock face, at the foot of which was
more water. The water this time was flat and still, and they could
see the reflection of the moon in it. Its shape reminded them of
the pool in the Common lair, only this pool was much, much bigger
and deeper; like everything else on this new land, it was
giant-sized.

It was while
they were peering down at the pool that they were startled by the
sounds of scraping behind them. The noise was coming from the slope
below. They cringed back as it grew louder. Then Slayer suddenly
appeared at the top of the slope. A large grey bird was clamped by
the neck between his powerful jaws. The bird was almost as big as
him. He dropped its limp body in front of them.


Food, Master,’ was all that he said.

There was no
hesitation. They were all ravenous. He-rats and she-rats and
youngsters alike tore noisily into Slayer’s gift.

Twisted Foot
remembered seeing these plump grey birds before. They frequently
roosted high up on the giant, occasionally flying down to the rocks
for a brief visit. He had often dreamed of tasting their succulent
flesh. Now his dream had come true. Clear water and now bird flesh,
he said to himself. He was liking this place already.

After the
feast, they felt more tired than ever. They had no energy left to
go any further, even to search for a proper shelter. In spite of
the cold, they simply curled up together where they were on the
soft, grassy ground. One of the youngsters, unused to the rich
food, burped loudly, and everyone laughed. None of them noticed the
lights on the giant dimming and then dying out completely; they
were all fast asleep by then.

Broken Tail
watched as they made their way through the waters towards the
giant’s foot. They were both strong swimmers. They would reach the
foot in no time. Then they would climb up into the giant’s belly,
just as he had shown them. The traitors had gone from their perch
on the foot, so they would have to go up after them. It was dark
and quiet up there. Their passage should go unhindered.


Sniff them out,’ he had ordered the warriors. ‘Follow them.
Find them. Then kill them all except the cripple. Bring the cripple
back alive. If you can’t do that, bring his head instead, but be
prepared for Long Snout’s wrath.’

The
Chamberlain had told him to select the two most able Protectors for
the task. He had chosen Jagged Fangs and Neck-Snapper. Jagged Fangs
was an experienced, ruthless and efficient killer, the warrior most
likely to succeed him as Chief Protector. Neck-Snapper was younger
and more hot-headed, but what he lacked in maturity he more than
made up for in sheer grit and ferocity. He had recovered from the
loss of his eye to fight courageously in the second battle of the
underworld. Besides, ever since that time when he had prevented
Sharp Claws from fleeing with the other traitors, Neck-Snapper had
been Long Snout’s favourite.

Almost
simultaneously, two sleek black bodies emerged from the waters and
began to crawl up the giant’s foot. Good, nodded Broken Tail. He
could go now. He turned back and crawled slowly across the rocks.
He was limping badly and in great pain. The wound which he received
when the Scavengers broke out of their lair hadn’t healed. He knew
that he was going to die soon. He would rest now and probably not
wake up. But he had followed the Chamberlain’s orders to the
last.

Outside of the
entrance to the sacred tunnel, Broken Tail stopped to sniff the
air. There was an unfamiliar smell, a strange murkiness, hanging
over the world above like a cloud. He grunted and disappeared into
the tunnel. As soon as he did, a black shape slunk over the rocks
and down to the point of the island. Slipping noiselessly into the
waters, it, too, began to swim towards the giant.

 


o –

Part Five:

 

A New Society


Chapter Thirty-Nine –

 

The old quarry
had been abandoned almost seventy years before. Its stone had been
used in the construction of the Forth and Clyde Canal, the docks in
Leith and the foundations of the nearby Forth Railway Bridge. But
now it lay derelict and flooded by seawater, whose permanently
smooth surface was strewn with debris. As the new day broke over
the estuary, the first rays of the awakening sun glanced off that
glassy surface to wash over the tight circle of black fur on the
ridge overlooking the quarry.

The fugitives
awoke slowly. They remained silent for some time, sleepy-eyed, not
venturing out of their circle, staring in awe at the scenery below
them: the vast pool on one side, the imposing giant on the other.
They were suddenly in awe, too, of the scale of what they had
achieved. They had braved so much over there – the waters, the
storm, the giant, the many frightening Two-Legs creatures – to
escape, to be free in this strange place. They felt exhilarated and
apprehensive at the same time.

Then the cold
began to set in. They were shivering now, needing to be on the
move. After their recent feast of bird flesh, they were also very
thirsty. They knew where to find water, so they automatically set
off back down the slope to lap at the burn again. At that moment,
the first Two-Legs creature of the day came thundering through the
giant in their direction; its noise filled the air around them, its
power shook the ground on which they squatted. When they looked
down, they could see other creatures moving along the ground close
to the waters; they were smaller and slower and quieter than the
one on the giant, but they were Two-Legs creatures
nevertheless.


We should go the other way!’ Long Ears shouted above the din.
‘We’re too close to the Two-Legs here!’

Motioning
excitedly to Twisted Foot, he turned round.


Over there,’ he continued. ‘That’s where the land is. The land
we saw during our watches on the world above. Our new
land.’

They all
swivelled round to follow Long Ears’ gaze. Away in the distance,
they could see another stretch of high ground. It was flat and
covered with grass and trees, and it jutted out into the
waters.


Yes, of course,’ said Twisted Foot.

Without
further discussion, their thirsts forgotten for the time being,
they immediately headed back along the ridge in the direction of
the promontory.

The noise of
the creature hurtling overhead was deafening. The giant’s leg
beside them seemed to be vibrating. Jagged Fangs was very relieved.
We made it just in time, he said to himself. They had followed the
scent of the traitors with great difficulty, zigzagging from one
side of the giant to the other until they picked it up. Then they
lost it completely. They had gone a long way, almost to the end of
the giant, when they decided to double back. And all the time they
knew that they were running out of time; that the light would come
any moment and that the Two-Legs creatures would soon follow. Then
they realised that the traitors had escaped down the first of the
giant’s legs. They were correct, of course, because the scent here
was strong and it was leading them direct to the hillside.

One after the
other, he and Neck-Snapper darted from under the bridge to the edge
of the burn. Like the fugitives had done some hours earlier, they
drank deeply of the cold, clear water. On the other side of the
burn, they picked up the scent again. Both of them were tired and
hungry. Although neither would admit it to the other, they were
both also intimidated by the sights and sounds of this alien world.
Not that it was important anyway: they had a mission to complete on
behalf of the Secret World; that’s all that mattered.

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