Uki and the Swamp Spirit Page 7
One by one, they reached the bank and disappeared into the safety of the reeds. Just in time, as the Shrikes burst through to the lake only seconds after Coal made his last jump. Peeping between the reed stalks, Uki saw them milling at the shore. They had seen the spot everyone had crossed to, but had no idea the stepping stones were there. They blundered up and down the bank for a few moments, until one of them was brave enough to step in. There was a huge splash and he sank down to his neck, floundering and waving his arms. Other ripples appeared in the water too, as things beneath the surface writhed and wriggled.
‘Get me out!’ the Shrike cried. ‘There’s things in here! I can feel them!’
His comrades all began reaching for him, trying to grab hold of his arms without spiking themselves, trying to haul him out of the sucking mud and filthy water. They toppled over each other, rolling in the reeds and getting covered with pondweed and green slime. It was all Uki could do not to burst out laughing. He watched for a few seconds more, and then turned to follow the others along the new path.
Twisting and turning through the bulrushes, they emerged into a patch of brackish, muddy water dotted here and there with tufts of grass and plants. It was brown and stagnant, with a swirling, patchy film covering its surface. Tiny things twitched and swam everywhere you looked. Uki could sense wisps of poison in the water. He knew if he bent close enough to stare at the little worms and larvae jiggling about, some of them would be swollen and blistered, choked up with plague and ready to pop. Every step deeper into the fen was taking them closer to Charice.
Uki didn’t like the idea of wading through all that, and neither did any of the others judging by the looks on their faces, but Bo pointed out a series of dead tree logs, laid on their sides. They would be able to walk along them, like a bridge, keeping their feet clear of the unhealthy-looking water.
Stepping from one trunk to another, they were soon back up on a proper path, this one hidden from view by a series of weeping willow trees. They were all quite happy to have solid ground beneath their feet again.
‘Thank you, Bo,’ said Uki. ‘Without you guiding us, those Shrikes would have caught us for certain.’
‘Bain’t no problem,’ said Bo. ‘You all saved my life back there. I’s right grateful for it. Although how you got to be so strong is a muckle gurt mystery.’
‘Yes,’ Coal agreed. ‘A mystery, indeed.’
Uki was flustered. Just how did you explain what had happened to him? Even when he’d told Jori and Kree, he’d been convinced they would laugh at him. Somehow, talking about it with an adult present seemed worse. In the end, all he could do was shrug.
Jori stepped in to rescue him from squirming. ‘Perhaps we can tell you later. But for now, we would be very grateful if you could lead us to your village. We have important matters to discuss with your lord, or chieftain.’
‘Lord?’ Bo scratched his ear. ‘Does you mean Ma Gurdle?’
‘Yes,’ said Coal. ‘I was taking them to find her when we heard your shouts. They want to talk to her about what’s happening in the fen.’
Bo rubbed his chin and looked thoughtful. He eyed Uki and the others up and down, giving Jori’s sword and flask several worried glances. ‘I don’t know,’ he said finally. ‘We Gurdles don’t like outsiders much. Ma might spank my bollycracker if I brings you lot in. Then again, you did save me, I suppose. And you are with Charcoal. Ma Gurdle trusts him.’
‘Then you’ll take us?’ Uki asked. The sky was growing rapidly darker and he really didn’t want to spend the night out in the wild fen with the snakes, frogs and whatever else might be lurking.
‘I’ll take you,’ said Bo with a nod. ‘But what happens to you when you gets there b’aint nothing to do with me.’
Uki let out a sigh of relief. Finding Coal, finding Bo … it was almost like someone was looking out for them, making sure they got some of the help they needed. Which was just as well, considering all the forces that were trying to stop them.
Keeping a wary eye on the pools of water by the path, Uki followed behind Mooka, as Bo pointed the way.
*
They walked for another half hour, until night was almost upon them and all but the last glow of light had gone from the sky. Everything was reduced to grainy greyness, patched with deep shadows. Quiet noises filled Uki’s ears: the fluttering wings of moths buffeting against the bushes; the gurgles and plops of creatures moving in the marsh; the high-pitched whine of mosquitoes as they buzzed past, searching for a juicy spot of bare skin.
Uki kept his eyes on the outline of Mooka, with Bo and Kree on his back. He followed their every step as they weaved this way and that along paths, through copses of trees and beside riverbanks. He marvelled at how Bo knew his way so well. If they had tried to come through here on their own, they would have been lost within minutes.
Just as the first stars began to appear in the sky, Bo tapped Kree on the back. ‘Stop here,’ he said. ‘If we go any closer, they’ll probably shoot you all.’
Everyone froze, scanning the murky darkness around them for Gurdle eyes. Uki couldn’t see anything, let alone a secret village.
‘Who goes there?’ A cry came from somewhere up ahead.
‘It’s me! Bo!’ The little rabbit raised himself up on Mooka’s back and waved his arms. ‘I was snaggled by the Spikers and these mudwalkers saved me. They want to talk to Ma!’
‘Is that Charcoal with you?’
‘It is!’
‘And what’s that big rat-thing?’
‘I don’t know!’ Bo looked Mooka up and down. ‘Some kind of giant hopping mouse?’
‘What?!’ Kree jabbed Bo in the back with a finger. ‘He’s a long-eared jerboa! The fastest thing on the plains! What is wrong with all you swamp rabbits?’
There was a long moment of silence, in which Uki imagined a swarm of arrows or spears, swishing their way through the gloom to pepper them all, Kree in particular. None came.
‘Righto,’ came the voice. ‘Come on through. But keep yer hands off yer weapons!’
Bo gave them a nod and they set off again, walking towards what looked like a solid cloud of trees. Every now and then, Uki heard a rustle from the bushes beside the path, where things were hiding. Large things – rabbit-sized, he would say – and probably well armed. For the hundredth time that evening, he thanked his whiskers they were with Bo.
It was only as they were almost inside the treeline that Uki spotted the flicker of lanterns further on, peeping through the leaves. They kept walking, pushing through the curtains of dangling willow branches, and emerged at the edge of a wide lake. There, floating on the surface, sending ripples of golden light dancing across the water, was the Gurdle village.
It seemed like one sprawling jumble, but when he looked closer, Uki could see thirty or more boats, rafts and floating platforms all lashed together. Each one had some sort of structure on top, from tents and shacks to thatched cottages and even something that looked like a longhouse. Ropes were strung and looped between them all, tying masts and roofs together. Lanterns made of glass, clay and bone were hung along these guy ropes, illuminating everything with an orange glow. The whole place looked like one of the warrens they had just visited, decked out for some kind of festival or party. Except, Uki realised, at the slightest sign of danger, the ropes could be cut and the boats and rafts would scatter into the maze of rivers and waterways that made up the fen. It was a village that could literally disappear.
With the light from the lanterns, Uki could now see a ring of armed sentries standing on the banks around the floating settlement. They had the same short ears and sandy fur as Bo, the same long legs and oversized feet, and they were dressed in clothes made from that green-brown leather. Frogskin, Uki remembered, from what Jori had told him. They were all carrying bows, spears and clubs, some tipped with sharp barbs that looked as if they might be snakes’ fangs. They looked fierce, defensive … but they were just rabbits, the same as everyone else. Uki wondered why Father Klepp
er and the Shrikes hated the Gurdle rabbits so much.
Every eye was trained on the newcomers as they stepped from the bank on to the wooden walkway that led into the village. When he looked up, Uki could see other rabbits on the rooftops and perched in the masts. More than one of them had their bowstrings pulled taut, arrows ready to fly. Coal hadn’t been exaggerating when he said these rabbits hated outsiders.
‘Ma’s house is the big one in the middle,’ Bo said. With some help from Jori, he slid down from Mooka’s back and began to walk in front, limping as he went. ‘She’ll be sitting in the square. Tonight’s the Feast of Gollop. That’s what all the lights is for.’
The planks of the walkway reached a wide-bottomed boat that served as the village entrance, and then continued, winding their way between the boats like a path or road. Bo led them in between the tents and houses, turning this way and that. Apart from each footstep causing a gentle rocking, it was just like having a stroll through any other little town.
They passed from boat to boat until they came to an enormous floating platform. It seemed to be made from mats of living roots, twisting in, out and over each other. Logs, moss and planks of wood were mixed in – buried, twined or nailed in place. Some looked fresh, others old and rotten. It was obvious this thing had been around for many years, added to and expanded over time.
At one end was the thatched longhouse, with its double doors flung wide open. A fire blazed in front of it, the burning logs stacked inside a wide copper plate, raised off the ground on legs. Several rabbits sat around it, watching nervously for stray coals. Bonfires on wooden boats weren’t the safest of things.
There were flagpoles all around the edge of the platform, strung with hundreds of lanterns. In between stood lots of rabbits, wary eyes staring at the intruders. And, on a throne-like wicker chair before the longhouse, sat a grand rabbit, who was watching them closest of all.
She wore a long grey cloak made of heron feathers, robes of patched frogskin and a necklace of curved viper fangs. Her eyes were the deep brown of swamp pools, milky around the edges with age. In one hand she held a staff, carved into the shape of a heron, with a long, elegant beak and a plume of feathers at the back. Her other hand trailed over the arm of her chair to rest upon the head of the biggest frog Uki had ever seen. It was the size of an adult rabbit at least, crouched so motionless he thought it must be a statue. That is, until a bright pink tongue slipped out of its mouth to lick one of its golden eyes.
‘Ma,’ said Bo, bowing his head. Jori and Coal copied him, Uki joining in a second later. Everyone seemed to be waiting for her to speak, until the silence was interrupted by a shout from one of the rabbits standing beside her.
‘Bo! Where have you been?’ A lady rabbit with a brown cloak and frogskin dress ran out to grab their new friend. She hugged him hard and then gave his shoulders a quick shake. ‘How dare you stay out all this time! Don’t you know how worried your pa and I have been? And what’s happened to your leg?’
Bo held out his injured foot for all to see. ‘I was off catching hoppets – got a good one here, see – when I got stuck in a Spiker’s snare. One of those old redshells came along and nearly pulled me ears off. He was going to take me back to Bloodthorn and spike me, then these folk turned up and walloped him.’
‘Is this true?’ Bo’s mother asked, looking at Uki and the others.
‘He’s taken quite a nasty wound from the snare,’ said Jori. ‘I’ve bound it, but it will need proper cleaning. Maybe some stitches.’
Bo’s mother gave him another quick hug, then bobbed her head to Jori. ‘Thank ’ee,’ she said, before dragging her son off with her. Uki hoped it wasn’t to spank his bollycracker.
There was a murmuring from all the Gurdle rabbits around the square. Uki watched them from the corner of his eyes, trying to judge their mood. Surely saving Bo would get them in the tribe’s good books?
Ma Gurdle stared at them a few moments more as the mumbles and whispers went on. When she cleared her throat, the silence was instant.
‘It seems,’ she said, ‘that we owe you our thanks. We don’t often allow outsiders in here. Don’t trust ’em, see. But you folk might be allowed to stay for the night. Once we’s had a little chin-waggle.’
‘Does that include me?’ Coal asked.
‘Oh, indeed it do, Mister Smith.’ Ma fixed him with a look of iron. ‘I’d like to know how you come to be back here, with these young mollygogglers in tow.’
‘If you please, ma’am.’ Uki surprised even himself by speaking up, but he didn’t want Coal to get in trouble. ‘We paid him to guide us. We wanted to meet you, to ask you some questions about what’s happening in the fen.’
‘What’s happening around here don’t be no business of yours, little maggety-pie.’ Ma squinted her eyes at Uki, then Kree, then Jori. ‘You there, with the big slicer and the silver bottle. Are you one of them Duskers from up north?’
‘I am,’ said Jori, bowing slightly.
‘And is it happening that you lot is hate-feuding with those redshell Spikers, those glommating wazzocks, the Shrikes?’
‘Our clans have been opposed to each other for many years, yes.’
‘That’s good to hear. Nothing like a good hate-feud to keep your blood boiling.’ Ma gave Jori a nod, as if she had been approved. ‘And you, tiny painted rabbit. Is that beast you’re sitting on a …’
‘HE’S A—’ Kree began to shout the words, but Jori swiftly reached up and clapped a hand over her mouth.
‘… a long-eared jerboa?’ Ma Gurdle finished. ‘The chosen mount of the Kalaan Klaa?’
‘How … how did you know that?’ Kree asked, from between Jori’s fingers.
‘I’ve travelled the Blood Plains,’ said Ma. ‘Many a moon ago now, when I was but a spratty mollygoggler myself. Nearly married the chief of an Uluk Miniki tribe. Until I realised they was all pikenoddling paddlewhackers. Almost as bad as them Maggitch scum.’
‘Yes!’ Kree punched the air. ‘The Kalaan Klaa hate the Minikis! At least, I think we did the last time I was there. We might be blood brothers now. It changes quite a lot.’
All these rabbits that hate each other, Uki thought. Don’t they realise they’re all the same underneath the fur? It seemed so stupid to him, being caught up in all that rage and fighting. Such a waste of their lives, especially when there were real problems to deal with. Actual ancient evils that wanted to wipe all rabbitkind from existence.
You hated those bullies, his dark voice reminded him. You even wanted to hurt them, for what they did to your mother.
But he hadn’t. Even though he’d had the power to. And when he set his anger aside, it was like a boulder had dropped from his shoulders. Like his soul had become light again. If these other rabbits could only see that their feuds hurt themselves more than anybody … but he was just a child; unwanted, even by his own tribe. Who would listen to him?
‘And you, there.’ Ma Gurdle was squinting at him now. ‘Mister jumbled-eyes. Stitched-together thing. What’s your story?’
Here goes, he thought.
‘I’m nothing special,’ he said. ‘I’m not a fighter or a rider or a smith, like my friends. But I do have a quest. There’s something bad in the fen – you might have seen creatures it has sickened or poisoned – and I am here to stop it. We know the cause of it all is somewhere nearby. We wanted to speak to you, to see if you knew exactly where, and if you might be able to take us to it.’
There was a long silence as Ma Gurdle stared at Uki. The only sound was the crackle of the fire and the occasional slurp as her giant frog licked its eyeballs. Just when Uki thought they might be standing there all night, Ma gave her head a slight shake. Her mind being made up, she began to speak.
‘It is true. There is a wrongness in the Fenlands. Everyone here has seen it.’ There came a murmur of agreement from all the gathered Gurdles. ‘And I can tell you where it comes from. We all knows that as well.’
‘It’s them Maggitches!’ shouted a
Gurdle on the far side of the fire.
‘Bandylegs curse them!’ called another.
‘Hushen up!’ Ma Gurdle thumped her staff on the rooty floor. The voices instantly stopped. She turned back to Uki. ‘Yes, it’s the Maggitch family. Those snake-loving sneaks what live to the south. I expect Charcoal has told you about them and us. All the hating and fighting. Well, this time they’s gone too far. They’s done something to anger Gollop, and she’s put a hex on them. That’s what the wrongness is. It’s their curse, spreading out from them and into everything they touch.’
‘But …’ Uki began to say. ‘But it isn’t …’
‘Don’t you dare naysay me!’ Ma Gurdle banged her staff again and Uki saw a glimpse of the raw fury in her eyes. The fiery hatred that had let her spend a lifetime loathing another family for reasons that were probably long forgotten. ‘I’m telling you now. Gollop has put her curse on them, and it’s hers to take away. You’re all welcome to stay for the night as thanks for saving our Bo, but the ways of the fen are not yours to meddle in. The curse will run its course.’
Ma Gurdle sat back in her chair and closed her eyes, which seemed to signal the meeting was over. The rabbits around the fire began to mill about and some sat down to play their long-necked lutes. Soon, music filled the night air and the floor of the Gurdle village began to gently rock as the rabbits danced and sang.
Uki and the others wandered across to the edge of the raft, sitting down on some crates that had been stacked there. Uki looked out past the village to where the surface of the lake reflected all the flames and lanterns back at him in wavy patterns of gold light.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Coal. ‘It’s incredibly tough to get through to these Gurdles. We can try again in the morning. Perhaps she’ll come around.’
Uki sighed. They were so close. Charice could have taken control of a Maggitch, but it would be almost impossible to find her in the maze-like fens, let alone capture her with one of his spears. And all because of a stupid feud.