Balthazar disappeared into the trees and Anna skipped off to collect more pine cones, leaving the four rats standing in a huddle around the stump.
‘I hope Eddie’s not afraid of heights,’ Whisker said, feeling a tad sorry for the wretched creature.
‘He’ll be fine,’ Rat Bait said, dismissively. ‘A master pickpocket like Eddie will have no trouble wigglin’ free – though it might take him half the day to do so without fallin’ off the branch.’
‘If the eagles don’t carry him off first,’ Ruby put in.
Whisker grimaced. ‘That wasn’t exactly my intention. I simply needed him out of earshot so we could discuss the rest of the plan.’
‘Well, we’d better get a move on,’ Ruby said. ‘Every minute we stand here talking is another minute our sly fox and band of pirates slip away from us.’
Hope and Trust
Whisker removed the anchor pendant from his coat pocket and held it up.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll make this brief. Eddie is right about one thing; a tiny trinket and a bag of gold won’t convince a shrewd trader like the fox to reveal the location of my parents. But maybe Anso’s lost fortune will. And maybe it’s closer than we think.’
‘You’ve discovered the secret location?’ Horace said, perking up slightly.
‘Nothing is certain,’ Whisker said in a hushed tone. ‘But I may know a location that fits the description.’
‘Where?’ Ruby asked.
‘Port Abalilly,’ Whisker said. ‘The same place the fox will be heading after he passes through Elderhorne.’
‘What makes you think he’ll go there?’ Horace asked.
‘He’ll need a ship to sail off this isle,’ Whisker reasoned. ‘And the only port west of here is Port Abalilly.’
‘But that still doesn’t explain the treasure,’ Ruby said.
‘I know,’ Whisker admitted. ‘But something Eddie said about soldier crabs and sniffer hounds made me recall my own visit to the port.’
‘Oh yeah,’ Horace said. ‘I remember that evening. The Captain made us hide in Shipwreck Sandbar while you went to retrieve the Forgotten Map with timid Mr Tribble and Madam Pearl.’
Whisker nodded. ‘And it’s Madam Pearl that interests us most – or more specifically, her antiques shop.’
‘Ratbeard’s Reward!’ Rat Bait exclaimed, his hat tumbling off. ‘Are you talking about Pearl’s Antiques?’
‘Aye,’ Whisker said with a smile. ‘You’re familiar with that shop, aren’t you?’
‘Course I be,’ Rat Bait said. ‘Anso built that grand ol’ place. It used to be me home.’
‘You lived in an antiques shop?’ Horace asked in confusion.
‘It wasn’t an antiques shop back then,’ Rat Bait replied. ‘It be Anso’s mansion – the very same buildin’ I been telling ye about earlier. Over the years it be sold and resold, eventually fallin’ into disrepair, b’fore Madam Pearl purchased it for a bargain and restored it to its original glory.’
‘And that’s how I knew it was the same building,’ Whisker explained. ‘Rat Bait’s description of his childhood home matched my memory of Pearl’s Antiques shop perfectly. Even the spiral staircase in the centre of the house sounded the same. I simply had to make the connection.’
‘Hang on,’ Ruby said, hobbling over to Rat Bait’s hat. She stuck her paw inside and retrieved a scrap of newspaper. She flipped it over and pointed to the first verse of Anso’s riddle.
‘In darkness deep where anchors lie,’ she read. ‘I thought the treasure was at the bottom of the ocean. Madam Pearl’s antique shop is in the centre of the town.’
‘You’re right,’ Whisker said. ‘The treasure isn’t in the shop.’
‘So where it is?’ Ruby asked.
‘And what is it?’ Horace chimed in.
‘An’ how come I never found it?’ Rat Bait added with a frown.
Whisker raised his paws to stop the barrage of questions. ‘Let me explain. Before Mr Tribble and I collected the Forgotten Map from the Portside Boutique, Madam Pearl parted company with us. She believed, with all the sniffer dogs and soldier crabs searching for her, it would be safer for all of us if she simply disappeared.’
‘So where did she go?’ Rat Bait asked.
Whisker pointed to the ground. ‘Straight down. She escaped through a concealed trapdoor in the floor of Pearl’s Antiques.’
Rat Bait shook his head in disbelief. ‘I never knew ‘bout no secret trapdoor in me house – an’ I explored every room o’ that place as a boy.’
‘It was extremely well hidden,’ Whisker said. ‘Not even the soldier crabs found it when they ransacked the shop.’
‘So how did Madam Pearl discover it was there?’ Ruby asked.
Whisker shrugged. ‘Who knows? Maybe she unearthed it when she was carrying out the restorations. Or perhaps it was on the blueprints when she bought the building.’
‘I’m surprised she never told me ‘bout it,’ Rat Bait said, mystified. ‘I be knowin’ her for years.’
‘But could she trust you back then?’ Ruby queried. ‘And did you ever mention that you were Anso’s son or that her shop was once your family home?’
‘Err, no an’ no an’ no,’ Rat Bait admitted.
‘Then I wouldn’t have told you, either,’ she said.
Horace coughed loudly, attempting to clear the air. ‘So where does this escape route actually lead, Whisker?’
‘Madam Pearl said it led to a secret cellar,’ Whisker explained. ‘But that’s not all. Apparently, the stairs continue all the way to the dock.’
‘A smuggler’s passage!’ Rat Bait exclaimed.
‘A treasure passage!’ Horace cheered.
‘Yes, that was my thought, too,’ Whisker said, a little less animated. ‘And it does fit the description.’ He pointed to the riddle in Ruby’s paws. ‘The trapdoor was located on the ground floor in the centre of a mighty entrance hall. The passage had many stairs, hidden from searching eyes, and led deep underground to a dark place where anchors lie.’
‘But we still don’t know if there are six hundred stairs?’ Ruby said.
‘There could be more,’ Rat Bait said. ‘The shop be several streets away from the dock.’
‘But wouldn’t that ruin the riddle?’ Horace asked.
Whisker shook his head. ‘Not if the six hundredth stair contained an anchor shaped key-hole. It’s the only stair that matters.’
He hurriedly extended the anchor to Rat Bait, trying not to dwell on what had to happen next.
‘This is your mission now, Rat Bait,’ he said. ‘And you’ll need this more than I will.’
Rat Bait waved his paws in front of him. ‘I told ye b’fore. I’m not fit to wear that pendant.’
Whisker turned away to see Anna skipping playfully around a tower of pinecones as if she didn’t have a care in the world. He knew it was simply her way of coping. She had been through a lot in the past two months, and there was still a lot to come. As he watched her, softly singing to herself, ‘Ring a ring a pinecone,’ Whisker wondered if he was making the right decision.
He felt a lump in his throat as he turned back to Rat Bait. His tail dropped limply to the ground.
‘You don’t have to wear the anchor, Grandpa,’ he said. ‘Anna can wear it for you.’
‘Anna?’ Rat Bait said, swivelling to face the small child. ‘But she be going with ye to Freeforia.’
Whisker shook his head. ‘No she’s not. It’s far too dangerous for a little rat like Anna. I can’t guarantee her safety against an army of pirates – none of us can. I need her to be as far away as possible when the fighting starts. And I need her to be with someone I can trust.’
Rat Bait looked at him hesitantly. ‘Ye trust me with the life o’ yer only sister?’
Whisker nodded. ‘I trust you with the life of your only granddaughter. And I trust her to look after you.’
Rat Bait stared at him long and hard. In those old eyes Whisker glimpsed the proud look of a new grandfather, he
saw a steadfast determination to do what was right, and he noticed something else – something he could only describe as love. He knew then that he had made the right decision. Rat Bait would protect Anna with his last dying breath.
The old rogue finally relaxed his stare and said with a cheeky wink, ‘So what makes ye think I need lookin’ after?’
‘You probably don’t,’ Whisker said truthfully, ‘but when it comes to slipping into Port Abalilly without raising suspicions, Anna can provide you with something a strong fighting arm can’t – the perfect cover. After all, what soldier crab would suspect a respectable-looking gentleman and his bubbly young granddaughter of being in cahoots with a band of wanted criminals?’
‘Point taken,’ Rat Bait said. He raised his head to the sky as a soft vroomp, vroomping sound became audible. ‘It sounds like Balthazar be on his way back.’
‘Then it’s time we were all leaving,’ Whisker said, gesturing for Anna to join them. With a sigh, he added quietly to himself, ‘And now for the hardest part of all.’
The young rat bounded over to him.
‘Swan!’ she squealed excitedly as Balthazar glided into view. ‘Big swan!’
‘Yeah, he’s big alright,’ Whisker said, kneeling in front of her. ‘And he has plenty of room for passengers. I’m sure he would love to take you for a ride sometime.’
Anna’s eyes lit up. ‘Now?’
‘Yes,’ Whisker said. ‘You can leave at once. Balthazar is on his way to a beautiful seaside town where there are grand old ships, quaint little shops and ladies in fancy dresses. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’
She nodded. ‘Wen comes, too?’
Whisker saw the hopeful look in her eyes and dreaded the answer he had to give.
‘I-I can’t,’ he struggled. ‘I-I have to go away.’
The joy instantly drained from her face. She stared at him in disbelief and Whisker couldn’t meet her gaze. He felt like a con-rat for sugar-coating the truth. This wasn’t a joy ride. This was goodbye.
‘I’m sorry, Anna,’ he said, fighting back the tears. ‘I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish I could come with you. But I-I …’ Words failed him.
Eyes clouded with tears, he let his head slump onto his chest in defeat. Nothing he could say would make things right. As he knelt there, listening to the sound of his own ragged breaths, he became aware of someone else beside him.
‘Um, sorry to interrupt,’ Horace said uncomfortably. ‘But I, err, thought I should say something.’
Whisker slowly looked up.
‘It’s my fault you two have to say goodbye,’ Horace said. ‘And I just wanted Anna to know that before she left.’
‘It’s not your fault, Horace,’ Whisker said, drawing a deep breath. ‘None of this is your fault. It’s just the way it is.’
‘Well, maybe,’ Horace said. ‘But let me say this anyway.’ He knelt down and looked directly at the little rat. ‘I know how much your brother is going to miss you, Anna, and I know he’d do anything to keep you safe. Like Whisker, I have a little sister of my own – well, three little sisters in fact: Hera, Athena and Aphrodite. True, they are all twice my height, and we fight like cats and dogs most of the time, but I still love them. Right now they are in trouble – my whole family is in trouble. And your brother, Anna, your brave, brave brother, is going to help me save them. He doesn’t have to and I don’t expect him to, but he’s still going to.’
‘That’s what Pie Rats do,’ Ruby said, kneeling beside Anna. ‘They help each other when it matters most – even if it hurts.’
‘Anna helps, too,’ the little rat exclaimed.
Horace smiled. ‘That’s the spirit, Anna. We’d love for you to help.’
‘And we have something very special for you to do,’ Whisker said, wiping fresh tears from his cheeks. ‘Something so secretive and so important that you’ll have your very own bodyguard to protect you.’ He paused, realising that total honesty was the only way forward. ‘How would you feel about your very own mission with Grandpa Rat Bait?’
‘Pa?’ she said, glancing up at the old rat.
‘That’s right,’ Whisker said, ‘Rat Bait is your grandpa.’
Rat Bait grinned broadly at his granddaughter and Anna grinned back. It was as if the two of them were already best friends, scheming up another dose of secret mischief together. It was exactly what Whisker needed to see.
‘Grandpa Rat Bait is going to help you find Mum and Dad and the fox,’ he said.
‘Prison?’ she said, confused.
‘Not the prison,’ Whisker said. ‘You’ll be flying to the glorious port of Abalilly.’
Anna looked down at her baggy brown cloak and frowned. ‘Ooogh, shabby.’
Ruby rolled her eye and then grinned at Horace. ‘It looks like someone shares your sisters’ fashion sense. You’d better keep Anna away from their wardrobes.’ She pursed her lips and then added, ‘Although with Anna’s tiny frame, she’d be better off borrowing some of your party frocks, Horace.’
Horace pointed his hook at his scarred cheeks then moved it to his protruding front teeth. ‘Does this look like the face of a beautiful frock-wearing maiden?’
Whisker shook his head in bemusement. He felt blessed to have friends like Ruby and Horace and, regardless of what he told them in public, he was grateful for the comical and, at times, infuriating banter they brought to every conversation.
‘Listen, Anna,’ he said, with renewed strength, ‘I’m sure Grandpa Rat Bait will spoil you with a fine new frock from the Portside Boutique. But in the meantime, I was wondering if you’d like to wear this?’ He let the golden anchor slip through his fingers and it danced at the end of its cord.
Anna stared in awe at the gently swaying pendant. Her beautiful brown eyes grew wide with delight. In that moment, Whisker knew the golden anchor had found its new home. Anna nodded her eager acceptance and Whisker passed the anchor to Ruby who tied the broken ends of the cord around her delicate neck.
Whisker felt a small pang of loss, knowing he might never see his beloved anchor again, but it was its wearer he would miss the most.
‘It suits you,’ Whisker said, giving Anna a kiss on the forehead. ‘And Mum and Dad will be proud to see you wearing it.’
Rat Bait helped Anna onto the back of Balthazar as the three rats waved their hurried farewells. There were no drawn-out speeches or long hugs goodbye. No one wanted to make leaving harder than it had to be.
‘I would tell ye to hold on tight, Anna dear,’ Rat Bait said, climbing up behind her, ‘but I can see ye’re already stuck to yer seat.’
Anna giggled in amusement and Whisker glimpsed a youthfulness in Rat Bait’s weathered face that he had never seen before.
It’s Ernest and Molly all over again, he thought, smiling to himself. The second chance of summer leads to the friendship of fall.
Rat Bait wedged his top hat onto his head, and with a departing wave with his sword, yelled ‘Giddy up, Balthazar!’
With three flaps of the swan’s majestic wings, the companions rose into the air.
‘You know where to find us,’ Horace shouted, waving his hook wildly above his head.
‘Aye,’ Rat Bait called back to him. ‘The fair land o’ Freeforia.’
And with a loud HONK from the swan, they were gone.
The last thing Whisker saw of Anna before she disappeared high above the trees, was a small paw waving down to him.
She’s the hero now, he thought, touching his bare neck.
He continued to stare into the sky as Ruby picked up a pine cone and prepared to hurl it at Chatterbeak.
‘No time to dilly dally,’ she snapped. ‘It’s time we woke this lazy parrot and took to the sky.’
Letting Go
Chatterbeak, refreshed from his nap, though slightly grumpy about being woken up by a flying pinecone to the head, ferried the three rats through the trees to the western bank of the Hawk River. Locating a shallow section of water downstream from the first
set of rapids, he set his sticky passengers down.
They spent the next few minutes drinking deeply from the refreshing mountain water and attempting to wash off the remaining strands of spider’s web. At least one of them kept an eye on the northern sky at all times, but there was no sign of any eagles.
‘Take a look at this, Whisker,’ Ruby said, crouching beside a patch of half-melted snow on the water’s edge.
Whisker walked over to join her, relieved to have something to take his mind off the events of the morning.
‘What are we looking at?’ he asked.
‘Paw prints,’ she said, pointing to a large indentation in the surface of the snow.
‘Do you know what made it?’ he queried.
‘I can’t be certain with the amount of snow that has melted,’ she answered, ‘but my guess would be a large dog or maybe a wolf.’
‘What about an elkhound?’ Whisker said, observing several more tracks in the snow.
‘It’s possible,’ Ruby said, thoughtfully. ‘They could have tracked the pirates to the river following the jailbreak.’ She gestured to another line of tracks with her longbow. ‘There’s a smaller set here but, again, I can’t pick the species. It could be anything from a mink to a weasel, or even a fox or a small coyote.’
Whisker looked up. ‘You don’t think it’s a red fox, do you?’
Ruby shrugged. ‘Eddie said the fox was heading west, not east. It’s a big detour to come all this way in an attempt to lose any pursuers. It’s more likely these prints belong to the escaping pirates.’
‘What makes you think that?’ Horace asked, pricking up his ears at the mention of pirates.
‘Pick any set of prints at random,’ Ruby said, pointing to the closest set with her longbow. ‘You’ll notice that the prints lead into the water but there’s no sign of them coming out again.’ She moved her longbow to the next set of prints. ‘The same goes for this set.’
‘And the next set,’ Whisker said, scanning the water’s edge. ‘I can’t see a single set of prints leading out of the water.’
‘So we can safely assume that whatever animals left these tracks, either hitched a ride in one of the fishing boats, or crossed the shallow water to the other side,’ Ruby said.
The Golden Anchor Page 8