The Deptford Mice 1: The Dark Portal (20 page)

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’ Macky?’ 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.

Jake belched again.

‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘what is it you lot worship – is it our Majesty?’

Audrey looked up proudly and held his gaze steadily. ‘We honour the Green Mouse,’ she answered.

Jake tittered. ‘A green mouse?’ he scoffed. ‘I’ve seen green mice, well, bits of green mice – wouldn’t honour them though. They turn black after they’re green.’

Audrey turned away from him. It was no good: these were ignorant brutes who would never understand.

Jake spoke softly to her. ‘Do you know who I honour?’

‘I believe so,’ she said.

‘Do you now, I wonder.’

‘You worship Jupiter in his stinking darkness.’

Jake’s eye narrowed. ‘Yes, we do. He is the Lord of All.’ There was a strange bitterness in the way he said it. Fletch had put down the flask and was listening intently.

Jake glanced around him and saw Fletch before the other had a chance to lower his eyes. ‘We’re very near,’ he whispered darkly. Then he stood up and dragged Audrey to her feet. With his other claw he took one of the burning torches from the fire.

‘We’ll not be long,’ he told Fletch. ‘Stay here and wait for the others.’

Fletch set his jaw and his eyes gleamed coldly. He gave the flask to the three old rats. Jake turned the corner that Piccadilly had run so blindly around, pulling Audrey harshly. He had drunk too much and walked in a zigzag along the ledge.

‘I’ll show you what I really honour,’ he mumbled.

It was damp in the tunnel and moss grew down the walls in sickly pale clumps. Jake strode up to one large patch and drew it aside. He thrust the torch in front of him. There was a passage beyond the moss, leading steeply down. Jake pushed Audrey inside and followed after her.

The mouse scrambled down the passage and waited at the bottom. She wondered wildly where she was being taken and why. Jake grasped her paw again and her skin crawled at his touch.

‘Not far now, lovely,’ he said.

The bricks were different now. They were older and larger than those in the main sewer. Audrey knew she was walking into a very ancient place.

Marks began to appear on the walls. At first they were meaningless scrawls, but soon she could make out pictures in the torchlight: crude paintings telling of battle and bloodshed.

They entered a great room. Jake let go of her and bowed before something she could not see.

‘Oh Lords and Lady,’ he said reverently. He turned on Audrey savagely. ‘Kneel!’ he roared. She dropped to her knees, and Jake fell silent for a moment.

‘Oh yes,’ he sighed, ‘there are still those amongst us – just a few, who remember. My old dad was one – sot though he was. He told me, like his dad told him before.’

Audrey raised questioning eyes to him.

Jake flourished the torch and strode to the far wall of the room.

There were three altars, covered in the mouldering remains of some old offerings. Above them, painted in the primitive rat manner, were three figures.

Jake went to the first. It was a crouching rat with no head. At its feet were many heads.

‘Before His Highness came, all those years ago,’ Jake said, with the wide eyes of a fanatic, ‘there were the three gods! They were not living gods like Him but gods in the true sense. The three gods of the rats – now forgotten by all save a few dedicated ones like meself. We come here from time to time and do what worship we can. Until He goes it won’t be safe, see. Oh I does all He asks and show humility but that’s just to save me neck.’

‘Who is that?’ asked Audrey. ‘Why hasn’t he got a head?’

‘That’s Bauchan – the artful one. He wears whatever head he likes – master of disguise he is. A great liar.’ Jake moved to the second altar.

The picture above it was of a female rat with a tooth necklace and a third eye daubed on her forehead. Tassels hung from her ears.

‘This is Mabb – the sleep visitor. She comes in dreams and urges us to war: a dark one she is. Revels in slaughter.’ Jake laughed madly.

Jake went to the last altar. Audrey gasped when the torch revealed the painting. This was surely the most evil thing she had ever seen: it was a rat with great horns protruding from his forehead and a mass of red hair curled like a mane about him. The tail of this figure was forked and at his feet lay a mass of bloody skeletons.

‘Lord Hobb,’ breathed Jake. ‘War-bringer.’ He turned to Audrey. ‘These are the true gods of the rats – fighting and slaughter’s what we want. Not diggin’ in poxy mines.’

‘Who makes you do that?’

‘His High and Stinkin’ Mightiness that’s who. Oh those two pairs of eyes He has blazing at everyone. Red and yellow – He ain’t our proper lord. It’s just that everyone’s scared of Him. Well, how long for, eh? A lot of the lads are grumbling against His dirty work. We ain’t workers – we want blood on our knives.’

Audrey backed away. She had to get out of this terrible place.

Jake placed the torch on Lord Hobb’s altar and advanced towards her, an evil gleam in his eye. Suddenly a voice spoke behind her.

‘So this is it!’ Fletch spat on the floor. ‘You dirty heathen, Jake.’

‘Get out!’ Jake ordered furiously.

‘Nowt doin’,’ said Fletch. ‘His Mighty Holiness – Lord of All – sent you on this job Jake, but me,’ he paused reflectively, ‘He sent to keep an eye on you! Oh yes, He knows all about this crummy dump – just wanted to make sure it were you who led the others. All dead by now by the way – gone to serve Him on the Other Side.’

Jake looked at him stormily. His face was like thunder and sweat broke out on his snout.

‘Look at all this dross,’ sneered Fletch. ‘What a piffling load of old tat!’

With a wild yell, Jake lunged at the rat, teeth bared.

Fletch was ready and dodged aside neatly, then flung himself on top of Jake.

They growled and bit each other. Fur came out in lumps and claws scored out trails of blood.

Audrey jumped away from them. Gradually she eased herself out of the temple, keeping her eyes on the bitter rat fight and wondering who would win.

Fletch gripped Jake by the throat, clearing a space for his teeth to bite out his windpipe, but Jake writhed and thrashed about and knocked him away with his tail. Fletch scampered to the altar of Lord Hobb and picked up the flaming torch, then waved it threateningly before the one-eyed rat.

‘I’ll put out the other one,’ he taunted. ‘Old Blind Jake you’ll be, eatin’ dung and kicked around. I’m gonna get Morgan’s job.’

They circled each other warily then Jake sprang.

With his head down he charged and butted Fletch in the stomach. The torch fell from his claws as he was rammed against the altar of Bauchan. The flames sent their shadows high on to the ceiling in grotesque wrestling shapes.

With his head Jake had Fletch pinned against the stone altar and the wind was knocked out of him. As the rat struggled for breath Jake snatched up the torch and plunged it deep into his enemy.

Audrey turned and fled up the passage. Jake’s triumphant voice came to her.

‘You’ll breathe no more, Fletchy lad. I haven’t got time to “bloody bones” yer for Hobb so this one’s for Bauchan!’

He snapped Fletch’s head off, and blood spilled all over the altar.

Audrey scrabbled as fast as she could up the steep passage. Loose stones rattled down as she raced upwards. At the entrance she pushed aside the wet moss and breathed deeply, her heart fluttering. She was quite sure that all rats were stark raving mad.

‘Jake been ’avin some fun with yer, sweetmeat?’

The harsh voice startled Audrey completely and she yelped. She had been oblivious to everything except escaping that evil temple. Now she turned to find Leering Macky goggling at her.

‘Is Fletchy down there an’ all?’

Audrey shook her head dumbly. She wondered how Macky would react to the news. ‘Fletch is dead,’ she managed at last. ‘Jake killed him . . .’

Macky nodded. ‘Thought that would ’appen. Well, won my bet with Pete – knew Jake’d come out on top.’ He looked past her to the entrance behind the moss. ‘Finishin’ him off down there, is he?’ He licked his lips then fixed his eyes on Audrey. ‘We’re bored back there; proper cheesed off we are. That grey give us the slip – blast him.’

Audrey sighed with relief. Piccadilly was safe.

‘Bah, you lot always stick together – come on.’ He grabbed her arm and pulled her down the tunnel.

The fire was burning low now. The three old rats had finished off the last flask. One of them was fast asleep, but the other two were giggling stupidly. Vinegar Pete crouched near the fire staring sulkily into its glowing depths.

Macky and Audrey joined them. He kicked the old rats out of the way.

‘Little miss sweetmeat’ ere’s gonna do some entertainin’, he laughed, pushing Audrey in front of the fire.

‘Gis a song!’ demanded Pete.

‘Oh I couldn’t,’ said Audrey.

‘We’re not askin’ you,’ rumbled Macky.

Audrey knew now that look in the rat’s eye. Hastily she tried to think of all the songs she knew. Her mind was blank. She could remember nothing. Audrey clasped her paws to her chest and desperately searched her memory. She recalled Master Oldnose rapping the walls loudly to wake the lazy young mice. When he had taught her, there was a song she had learned and was fond of. He had written it himself. It was a sad mouse lament, telling of two young mice who were promised to each other from childhood by their families. The boy mouse loved the girl dearly but she could not return his love and one day ran off with a handsome stranger.

Audrey began. Hesitant and timid, she closed her eyes to see the words more clearly. Her confidence grew and her small voice rose high and beautiful in that grim place.

The two old rats ceased their foolish mirth and listened, and their sleeping comrade had pleasant dreams for once in his sordid life. Leering Macky rocked back on his haunches and Vinegar Pete nearly lost his sourness.

The song continued and the rats began to tap the floor in time. Audrey carried on – the more she sang the happier she felt. She imagined herself back in the Skirtings in better days, when her father was there to take her troubles away.

Macky began to tap faster and Pete followed him. The beat quickened.

Audrey tried to keep up with them. The soft enchantment the spell had worked on her was broken now. Her eyes were wide open as she struggled to race the words out.

The rats began to clap. They smashed their claws together clumsily. A tear welled up in Audrey’s eye as she continued to sing in vain.

Macky grinned and sprang to his feet. He took hold of Audrey’s paws and whirled her around. At first she thought he was going to hurl her into the sewer water, but then she realised with a shock that the ugly beast was dancing with her. He moved in time to the clapping of the others with great, heavy lumbering steps. Audrey had to be very nimble to avoid his big feet crushing hers. Macky’s tail swayed awkwardly behind him as he hopped about.

‘Gis a turn,’ called Vinegar Pete eagerly.

‘Sorry Petey – but it’s me next,’ said a voice in the darkness.

Macky stopped dancing.

Audrey’s heart missed a beat as she looked. One-Eyed Jake stepped into the ring of firelight. With Fletch’s blood splashed all over his body he looked like a lurid creature of nightmare. He smiled and his mouth was red and wet, then he grabbed Audrey’s paws. His claws were sticky with blood, and Audrey cried out at the feel of them. She shook like a new leaf.

‘Start yer clappin’ again,’ Jake said to Pete.

The beat began.

Jake twirled the mouse about, then he spun her out and in, then they danced round in a ring.

‘Faster!’ he yelled.