Stonehead blinked his eyes at Tarquin and snorted. "Alone? I'll say not! We McGurneys have always lived here! Got the wife, Thunderbeak, and four little ones-two sons and two daughters! They're only chicks, but you should see them fight! Come home with me for supper, meet my family!"
The savage golden eyes glared at them. They did not
refuse.
oo
If at all possible, Stonehead's wife Thunderbeak was even fiercer than her belligerent husband. The four babies sat at the foot of a dead ash with them, fighting uproariously at every opportunity, much to the amusement of their parents. The food was surprisingly good. There was a white mushroom salad specially laid on for the travelers. The owls did not eat. Dandin decided that it would not be polite to ask them what their diet was, though the odd barkcloth and weeds in the bushes left him in little doubt.
After supper Tarquin sang and played his harolina, an impromptu song.
"If you're ever caught by the Flitchaye
And the situation looks grave,
Then call for a McGurney,
The bravest of the brave.
He'll fight all night
And battle all day
Until you hear those Flitchaye say,
'Have mercy, have mercy, have mercy on us all!' "
Mariel smiled fondly at the owlets. "Bless them, they've fallen asleep." Thunderbeak cuffed them roughly awake. "Where's
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your manners! Dozing off when the nice rabbit's singing you a song! Wake up this instant!"
Mariel wrapped her Gullwhacker into a pillow and lay down. "Oh, don't scold them, please. They need their sleep, the same as me. Actually, if that nice rabbit starts singing another song he'll feel the knot of my Gullwhacker between his big bunny ears."
oo
Tarquin sat up late, remembering the next lines of the poem and discussing their future route with Stonehead, though the owl did not appear to be a great deal of help. Tarquin racked his memory, whilst pretending to be attentive to Stonehead's advice.
"Let me see now, something or other about saving any fool at all, I think the last bit was. Oh, but that was you, wasn't it?"
Stonehead blinked fiercely. "What's that you say? I'm any fool at all! I think you could do with a lesson in politeness, rabbit! It's true we McGurneys aren't wise owls, but we're the bravest of the brave! Now defend yourself, or get kicked right over that tree!"
Tarquin held up his paws placalingly. "Sorry, old chap, I wasn't alluding to you, not a bit of it. The fools I was talking about is us, me and my jolly old friends. Point of fact, you may be able to help us with our route. I've remembered the lines, goes somethin' like this:
Beware the light that shows the way, Trust not the wart-skinned toad, In his realm no night or day. Fool, stay to the road.
That's it. Y'see it mentions us againfool! I don't suppose you happen to know what place the rhyme means, wot?"
Stonehead got up and paced about a bit. One of the babies gave his leg a drowsy bite as he passed, and he cuffed the sleeping infant affectionately.
"Wouldn't like to be a Flitchaye when she grows
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upwonderful little battler. Yes, of course I know the place your poem mentions! You and your friends want the swampdark! Never go there myselfrotten place! Take you there in the morning. Get some sleep now, rabbit! You're quite a good singer; never have time for such nonsense myself, sooner have a good clean fight! Must warn you, though, if you start warbling and wake my wife up she'll probably rip your leg clean off! She's not named Thunderbeak for nothing, you know! Sleep well. Good night!"
Tarquin put his harolina carefully aside and lay down, gazing around at the dark dripping forest and the six savage owls in slumber.
"Blow me! I'd never take Hon Rosie picnickin' to this
place."
"What's that, rabbit? Did you say something?"
"Er, no, old bean. Just good night."
"Good night! Now shut up and sleep! Or else . . . !"
oo
Gabool the Wild was not affected by sleep anymore. He was driven night and day by an insane nervous energy, roaming the rooms of Fort Bladegirt. The non-arrival of Graypatch was preying upon his mind, though he did not doubt that his traitorous Captain would show up sooner or later. The King of Searats now began hoping that Graypatch would be brought back alive. He descended a winding stairway, muttering and chuckling to himself.
"No, don't kill him, that's too quick for me old shipmate Graypatch. Gabool's got somethin' nice fer him, a surprise, aharrharrharr! Aye, GraypatchTl remember old Skrabblag. I was Cap'n of the Ratwake an' he was mate when we brought Skrabblag from the warm isles in the deep seas to the south. Haharr, good old Skrabblag. Let's see if you're still alive an' foul-tempered."
Still laughing to himself, the mad King reached the bottom of the steps. He entered a side room and took a spear from its wallhanger. At the center of the room
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was a circular stone with a thick iron ring attached. Gabool thrust the spear through the ring and levered the stone upward. Sliding it to one side, he took the spear and crouched over the hole in the floor.
"Skrabblag, matey, it's me, Gabool. Sing outare y'there?"
There was no reply. Gabool jabbed down into the inky darkness with the long spear. There was a dry, rustling sound, accompanied by an odd clicking noise. The searat grinned.
"Aharr, you murderous villain, I can hear yeh. What's it like down there, livin' on rotten fishheads an' scraps o' dead seabird?"
The rustling and clicking increased. Something caught the spear blade, but Gabool pulled it back quickly.
"Hoho, not so fast, bucko. I know you'd like to drag me down there, but you bide your time and old Gabool will give yer a little gift. Remember Graypatch? Aye, he was the one that helped catch you an' take you from your nice warm island to this cold dark berth, Well, you stop down there an' think what you'd like to do to Graypatch. Pretty soon now I'll let him drop in an' pay you a call. You'd like that, wouldn't yer?"
The clicking and rustling increased. Gabool laughed heartily as he slid the stone back into place with the spear.
Outside, the wind moaned around the rocks of Terra-mort and the stones of Bladegirt. The restless sea pounded coves and inlets as seabirds deserted the skies for nests and perches. Gabool sat once more in his banqueting hall, chin in claws as he slouched across the table and spoke to his bell.
"Hah! Yer gettin' dirty now since there's no slaves to spit an' polish yer shiny hide. An' that's the way it should be, big an' dirty with a brassy voice. One day the bell tower will be built, then I'll string you up there an' make you sing every time I tug the rope. I'll make
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yer sing or be quiet, just as I please. What've y'got to say to that, eh?"
The great bell remained silent, Gabool sat watching it until his weighted eyelids began drooping over weary blood-seared eyes. A ship in flames passed his vision, followed by another lying on its side in a creek, overgrown by trees, and yet a third ship washed up and holed upon a reef. Bluddrig, Garrtail, Saltar and Orgeye floated lifeless in the waves sweeping across his fevered dream, dead rats all. Through the shifting gray mists a huge armored badger strode. Raising his sword, he struck.
Gabool was awake once more, glaring his hatred across the table at the bell whose very presence haunted his every moment.
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