The Twyning (40 page)

— It is simple, Efren. Now is your moment. We all have a duty to other citizens. Yours is to lead.

— I shall be sending many citizens to their deaths.

— Somewhere, whatever happens, a citizen will live. You, Efren, will be part of that citizen and its future generations. The kingdom is each of us, and all of us.

— Every rat is a king?

I gazed at the Twyning, and what I heard in my revelation was not the voice of a leader but a citizen, much like all the others.

The Twyning replied.

— Every rat is a king, and this is your time, Efren. You should be proud. You must be brave.

— What if it is the end of the kingdom? It will have been my decisions that helped cause it.

The tangle of intertwined rats seemed to swell before my eyes. I understood for a moment why the enemy was so fearful when it encountered a twyning.

— The kingdom is forever. It is beyond all of us.

I felt the power returning to my body.

— Thank you.

— Have faith in the kingdom and in yourself, Efren. Be strong. It is your fate.

There was a stirring at the back of the Great Hollow. Floke entered, followed by Growan, Barcas, and Gvork.

— The others will be with us soon. Shall we meet on the Rock of State?

I turned from the Twyning to face them.

— No. For this meeting, we must be in the world above.

. . . and the way they looked at us down by the river. There is a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach that feels very like betrayal.

I see the dark, unblinking eyes of Efren as Caz explained what was soon to happen. At that moment, he saw me, and perhaps even her, as all the same. We were killers. We destroyed as naturally as we breathed. The rat did not understand why we wished evil upon our fellow creatures. He simply knew that we did, we do, and we always will. While we remain in this world, no other living creature is safe.

The rat, of course, is right.

In the darkness, I creep out of the tip, leaving Caz asleep with Malaika dozing close to her hand.

The rain has gone, and it is a clear night with the smell of damp in the air.

What good have we done tonight? We have told the rats that they are about to die. Efren must have seen at that moment that there is nothing a mere animal can do against the might of men and their dogs. Maybe he had even suspected that I, Dogboy, would be there in that hunt to the death.

I walk down the lane that leads from the tip toward the town, and I stand on the road, gazing toward the river.

In the distance, I hear the sounds of the town stirring. Horses’ hooves on cobbles, the occasional voice — a dog barking, its voice cutting through the darkness.

Slowly I make my way back to the tip, and dip my way into the passage leading to our home.

The embers of our little fire are still warm. I put a couple of small branches upon it and hold out my hands before the flames.

It is the smell of burning that wakes Caz. She sits up, blinking.

“Peter, are you all right?”

“I think it’s time to move from this place.”

“Where will we go?”

“We’ll find somewhere, you and I. We know how to survive in this town.”

“But we’ll stay together.”

I hear fear in her voice, and see, as if I have slipped into a terrible dream, a window, the light flickering from within, a girl dancing, a man watching her. Dance, little dancer, dance.

“Of course we’ll stay together,” I say. “Stick with Dogboy and you’ll be all right.”

She looks solemn. “What about the rats?” It is a despairing whisper.

“We’re only children, Caz. What can we do?”

“You saved me. You and Efren and Malaika.”

“And Bill.”

She looks at me and I notice something that I have not seen for a long time: a grim set to her jaw, and hardness in her narrowed eyes. Sometimes I forget how tough my Caz can be.

She sits up and pushes some more wood onto the fire with the heel of her bare foot.

“And he can do his bit again. We’ll go and see him when it’s light.”

“And tell him what?”

Caz sniffed decisively. “Tell him that we’re going to save the rats.”

She looks at me and sees the doubt in my eyes.

“You’re not running from this, Peter. If you do, you’ll be as bad as the hunters. If you want to leave, you will be by yourself.”

I gaze at her for a moment. I know, we both know, that we are going nowhere.

. . . by the time the members of the Court of Governance emerged, one after another, into the world above. I was to be at the front of our group — or, rather, Floke was, just in front of me. Since his return to the kingdom, he seemed to have decided that he was my protector.

We gathered on the riverside, then climbed the bank. A touch-path led me to the stump where I had faced the two young warriors earlier that night, and I took up position, facing the courtiers.

— The battle will be here.

I looked across to the field, enclosed by a wire fence.

— The enemy plans to trap us in that enclosed place. We shall be driven from the world below by poison. Other escapes will be blocked. There will be a line of humans along the road to prevent us from escaping into the river.

Some of the court were looking at the battleground, but Barcas, the spy, sniffed dismissively.

— We had much of this information already, of course, but we did not trust its source. May I ask, Efren, how you, on your own without help from spies, know so much about what the enemy plans?

I gave him the hard eye.

— Information received, Barcas.

The spy seemed keen to question me more, but there was no time for that. I turned to Joram, the strategist.

— We need to prepare, to have a plan of battle.

Joram crossed the road, nosed the wire, and stood on his hind legs, sniffing. I suspected that he was playing for time.

— We must surprise them.

He revealed from where he stood, gazing across the field.

— The enemy sees us in a certain way. When they are strong and have their dogs, we flee. It is what humans expect in their arrogance and pride.

— So we attack?

Growan, the warrior, was usually the first to argue for the boldest, bloodiest approach, but even he seemed concerned about Joram’s suggestion.

— That is certain death, Joram.

The strategist hesitated. He was no fighter himself.

I revealed, trying not to betray my own uncertainty.

— Growan is right. But so is Joram when he says that surprise is our greatest weapon. We know what the enemy is going to do.

I looked around, anticipating a challenge, but none came.

Driva pushed to the front of the group.

— We need to bring the kingdom into the world above, and as soon as we can.

Gvork nipped her with an aggression surprising in a historian.

— It is dangerous in the world above when the sun is in the sky. We shall be divided. No battle in history has ever been won —

— You are wrong, Gvork.

I interrupted his speech. Historians like nothing better than to bring bad news from the past, and now was no time for weakness.

— It is dangerous in the world above, but not as dangerous as being poisoned in the kingdom, and then driven into the jaws of dogs.

Gvork looked away moodily.

— Driva, organize the does and ratlings to escape from the world below, if possible before it is light. The rest of you will lead your courts up here to prepare for battle.

To my surprise, Swylar stepped forward.

— Of course, Efren is right. The kingdom must be made safe from poison. But if the humans find no rats in the world below, what will happen? They will go away and attack us again, when we are not prepared.

We waited to hear what the dark rat proposed.

— Some rats must stay below. Strong citizens — warriors probably. When the poison arrives, they will flee upward, as expected by the enemy, out of the hollow and into the field.

— Death.

It was Joram who revealed what each of us was thinking.

— Yes, death. — The single eye of Swylar glittered. — Those who enter the field will have little chance, although we have to prepare an escape route so that a few may get away. But these warriors will attract the attention of the enemy so that citizens in the world above can attack.

What he revealed, of course, was true. We all understood that. The question was, who would lead the rats on this mission of death? Understanding the direction of our thoughts, Swylar revealed more quietly.

— I would be proud to take the task.

The scent of suspicion was in the air. It was always possible that Swylar was following his own plan to win back the kingdom. If the rats left in the world below escaped before the poison was released, they would be the only citizens to avoid the battle.

Did I trust Swylar? To my surprise, I found I did.

— You are a noble warrior, Swylar. Find your troop of citizens today.

I glanced across the river. The light was glowing softly beyond the horizon.

— And now we must prepare. The enemy has strength, sticks, the sharp teeth and deadly speed of dogs.

The court looked at me. I thought of the Twyning. The kingdom is in each of us, all of us. I felt a new strength within me, a pride that we were about to fight for future generations of citizens.

— And what has the kingdom got? — I looked around and revealed softly. — It has knowledge. It has surprise. It has the means to inspire terror and confusion. It has the right of all breathing creatures to fight for their survival.

Beside me, Floke stirred and nudged me gently with his nose.

— And, of course, it has the greater intelligence.

We dispersed to set about preparing for battle.

. . . blocking the holes and runs that rats like to use. There are three men from the council with us, and they know their beasts. Now and then I attempt to leave an escape hole from the sewerage runs, but it is no use. One of the councilmen always notices and shouts roughly at me.

“Just do your job, lad.” Beside me, Bill wears the closed, unhappy expression I have come to know so well.

“Keep yourself out of trouble, and do your job.”

I am glad now that Caz has remained at the tip with Malaika. She had wanted to be there for the hunt, to help in any way that she could, but even she, the strongest-willed girl in the world, could see that she could do little when the killing started. She has helped Efren prepare. Now she and Malaika must stay at home, safe.

The light is beginning to fade by the time we reach the Locks Inn, a public house by one of the canals that lead into the river. There is little sign of beast activity around the lock, but Bill seems unusually interested in it.

“When do they open the gates?” he asks one of the councilmen.

“Not often,” the man replied. “In summer, when it’s dry and the sewers need to be sluiced out.”

“So they won’t be doing it now?”

“In winter?” The man laughs. “Only if you want to flood part of the town. There’s too much water in there to be safe when it’s this wet. A wave will go down the river, breaking its banks.”

Without a word, Bill nods and returns to work.

My arms are aching by the time we first hear the dogs. As we reach the bend in the river, we can see the men lining the bank, standing on the bridge. Beyond the barking, there is a hum of excited conversation.