The Shamrogues

by Patrick Meehan

  At this point, she summoned her bats to speed ahead, and then, turning in a swooping arc, they formed a line across the sea and headed back. As they passed over the currach, the Shamrogues could hear the uniform beating of anxious wings.

  “Good luck!” the queen called. “And goodbye…”

  The bats plummeted to almost touch the water’s surface, then soared in unison toward the starry sky in salute. In another moment they were gone. The Shamrogues were left to face the sea.

  “What now?” Croga asked from the prow. “Which way?”

  Gorum remembered what Mulligan had instructed him. He steered the currach to the left and headed up the coast. Glic changed places with Croga who took up her position behind the sail. It billowed in the breeze as she directed the craft forward.

  “This is absolutely great,” Sona enthused as she watched some silvery fish dart beneath the hull and then swim alongside the boat.

  The sea was calm as the sun slowly began to edge over the horizon, and the sleek craft cut through foamy waves that appeared dark green in the early morning light. Gorum changed course and steered in the direction of the rising orb. Any land was out of sight after a short time and there was nothing but water on all sides. The Shamrogues felt that they might be the only ones left on the planet.

  As they journeyed eastwards, the weather grew squally. With the constant rise and fall of the boat, they were rocked from side to side by choppy waves. Trom and Sona began to suffer from seasickness. But Glic was not going to give into it easily. From the bottom of the boat, he produced the tiny harmonica that Mulligan had given him.

  He began to suck and blow for all he was worth, and produced a tinny wailing noise.

  Trom raised his bushy eyebrows and frowned. “Harump! Is it not enough for us to be in the middle of nowhere, without you making that awful racket. I’m feeling sick enough without you adding to it. You’re tone deaf,” he said testily. “If you must do an injustice to the harmonica, then kindly do it quietly. I need some rest.” The leader burped loudly and wrapped his hands across his midriff. And, almost as soon as he had closed his heavy eyelids, he was snoring through pursed lips and looking nearly as green as Glic.

  Croga turned and whispered “Everyone keep quiet, for a while at least. And you two, Sona and Glic, try and get some rest. Gorum and I will look after things for now.”

  Glic begrudgingly put the harmonica back in the bottom of the currach. Then he and Sona snuggled close to Trom and were quickly fast asleep.

  Like a cloud kissing the sea’s surface, a colossal fog-bank approached the craft. As the dense mass of vapour swirled and rolled nearer, Gorum and Croga could make out a series of motionless spectral shapes and writhing forms.

  “I don’t mind travelling in the fog,” Gorum said in a low voice to Croga. “But it means I won’t be able to use the sun as our guide.”

  “Well,” Croga said. “If I use my powers to dispel this thick mist, I will deplete my energy. Remember, I already used a lot of it to call up the storm that was the deciding factor in our going on this quest. I really need to recharge!”

  “Not to worry, Croga. I’m sure we’ll sail through this fog-bank soon. Once I steer fairly straight, we should stay on course.”

  But Gorum could not have been more wrong. They began to feel they were journeying in a circle. And when the soupy fog finally lifted off the sea, it formed a hazy layer of clouds that obscured the sun.

  “Oh no!” Croga exclaimed. “Now we’ll have no idea which way to go. And the day is beginning to get on. I think I’ll wake Trom. He’ll know what action to take.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Gorum said. “Mulligan appointed me as captain of this boat. It’s up to me to get us to our destination. I’ll check our bearings out.”

  Croga raised her eyes skywards. “And how do you propose to accomplish that? We could be out here forever, or perhaps we might even find ourselves back where we started.”

  Gorum frowned. After all, he was in charge and sorely wanted to prove he could do the job. “I’ll ask directions.”

  “There’s not a solitary seagull in sight,” Croga declared.

  “Watch things here,” Gorum told her before the yellow creature could say anything more. Then she was startled by a splash as he disappeared over the side and immediately sank from sight.

  “Wait! What happened to caution?” she called.

  Croga was in a dilemma as to what she should do. Was it her duty to awaken the others after Gorum’s sudden action? Perhaps the cry “Man overboard!” was called for. She scratched her head and thought for a moment. It might be wise to wait.

  Below the boat, beneath the choppy surface, the water seemed to be much calmer. Gorum swiftly adapted himself to this different environment as he plunged rapidly down towards a seaweed-covered rock that was not too far from the currach above. The hull could be seen as a shadow that shimmered overhead.

  Gorum, surrounded by rising bubbles, landed on some seaweed. Immediately below him, a set of antennae sensed the blue creature’s arrival. A pair of eyes watched Gorum. Then a large green crab, with pincer-like claws, shot forward.

  “What’s your business on my patch?” demanded the ugly crab. He snapped his claws open and closed. Gorum retreated in fright.

  “I…I’m terribly sorry,” Gorum gurgled, tiny bubbles escaping from his mouth. And then he thought of what Sona might say to this attacker. “I…I’m lost and have come in peace to ask which way I should steer my craft to the dangerous buildings that pollute your threatened habitat. Pl…please, can you help me?”

  At this, the crab peered more closely at Gorum.

  “And who might you be? You look like nothing I’ve ever seen before. And I’ve seen lots in my time.”

  Gorum studied him and stepped even further backwards, away from those shocking claws. Was the crab to be trusted?

  “I’m Gorum and I come from the land. My friends and I have been given the task of helping Mother Nature. We’re on a mission at the moment, but we seem to have lost our way.” And then he explained the rest of the story while the crab listened.

  As he spoke, the crab tucked his formidable claws beneath some seaweed as if seeing how uncomfortable they made Gorum. When Gorum had finished, he said, “I’m aware of where you want to go, and I think I may have a solution to your dilemma.”

  The seaweed seemed to sway as though it had been shaken by some invisible force. And the sand was suddenly disturbed and whipped up, just to re-settle again.

  “The tide is turning and the currents are changing,” The crab said. “Also, there is some above-water disturbance on its way which will help you get to your destination quickly.”

  Gorum peered up through the sea and saw that the surface was greatly upset by waves that pushed the currach onwards. He would have to get moving. Having thanked the crab, he briskly swam to catch up on the boat. Once on board, he discovered the truth of the sea creature’s words.

  A storm, ferocious as the one that Croga had conjured up before, began to rage and urge their vessel on at a furious pace. Rain beat mercilessly down, and the currach rode the mounting waves like it was in a race. Towards the east it sped, as the Shamrogues bailed water out of the boat. With backs near breaking point and tired arms, they suddenly spotted land.

  “Land ho!” they cried. Gorum aimed the currach for a cove amid rain-swept rocks. The boat was driven ashore with such force that they were almost catapulted onto the beach. Getting hurriedly to their feet, the Shamrogues dragged the craft past the high-water line. This accomplished, they found shelter beneath a stony overhang and threw their cold and weary bodies down to sleep.

  Darkness had fallen when they awoke. But at least they felt entirely refreshed and ready to continue on their mission.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Onward…Ho!

  “I can just about see a cluster of huge buildings,” Gorum said from his vantage point on top of a rocky outcrop. “They’re not very far away from here. Perh
aps we’ve been lucky enough to arrive at the correct point. The reprocessing plant, according to our good friend Mulligan, is made up of several large structures.”

  Trom looked up at Gorum who still stood peering into the distance with a hand held over his brow. “Sounds like your navigation has been most successful. Climb down from there and we’ll formulate a plan. We know that we must proceed with the utmost caution.”

  “Firstly,” Sona said, “we will have to conceal our currach. It wouldn’t do for us to be marooned here. After all, we’ll need to return home once our mission is complete.”

  “Excellent idea,” the leader of the Shamrogues said. “Let’s get to it now!”

  Having found a crevice between some large rocks, they dragged their craft to the narrow opening and placed it in the niche, hull upwards, so that it resembled a giant black beetle. Then they covered the overturned boat with pebbles and a large quantity of seaweed. Soon the currach was completely hidden, but their fevered activity had not gone unnoticed.

  From behind boulders and clumps of dried seaweed, ten sets of cunning green eyes stalked the Shamrogues’ every movement. Ten wild creatures considered, with hungry interest, five potential meals.

  “We’ve done a great job,” Glic said with a wide contented grin on his face. He rubbed his hands together and playfully slapped Sona on the back.

  “I’ll get you for that,” she laughed and began to chase Glic who had run away. He bounded over a big rock, with her in hot pursuit as the other Shamrogues sat resting on the sand.

  Croga watched the pair as they disappeared. “Where do they get all the energy from?” she said. “They’d be better off taking things easy.”

  Trom smiled and was about to speak, but then the expression on his face changed. Gorum grabbed his leader’s arm and trembled. Croga winced at what she saw.

  From behind the rock, Sona and Glic slowly retreated backwards. Before them, with his head down and untidy fur bristling on his tensed back, a big tom-cat hissed and bared his needle-sharp teeth. With calculated steps, he moved stealthily forward, his pointed claws exposed and ready to do damage.

  Almost as though it was a signal to the others, nine more ragged and angry looking felines emerged to surround the Shamrogues, making escape impossible. The Shamrogues drew tightly together and faced the cats, who had ceased their approach and were preparing to pounce. Grinning evilly, the biggest cat licked his lips.

  “Prepare to be eaten!” he warned, displaying a razor-sharp talon.

  Outnumbered two to one, the Shamrogues stood shoulder to shoulder and held hands behind their backs.

  Croga whispered, “What now?”

  “Let’s confuse these vagabonds with some simple magic,” Trom replied urgently beneath his breath. “Quickly, turn to stone!”

  The cats dived on the Shamrogues at the exact same moment. With a frenzy of flaying limbs and screeching, shrieking and howling, they fought to get their claws on the tiny coloured creatures. Scrambling and rolling about in the sand, they tried to seize their prey. In all the confusion, they failed to notice they were fighting amongst themselves for five stones!

  After a while, and when they had almost forgotten what they were tearing at one another for, the big tom-cat shrieked, “Hold it…hold it, you mangy pack of fools! Our prey has somehow eluded us. Get yourselves moving; search high and low for them. They can’t be very far away.”

  “You’d be wrong there,” came a voice, loud and clear from the white stone. “If you all back off, we’ll show ourselves.”

  The cats stepped back, amazed and a little frightened. The biggest one bounded for the speaking stone and pawed at it with outstretched claws. It merely rolled about in the sand and a laugh rose from it.

  “That was quite ticklish,” the stone said. “Now! We can remain as stones until you get fed up and go away. Or you can find out who we are and why we are here.”

  At this last statement, the big tom-cat said, “Huh? Stones that talk in the tongue of cats? Weird! Back off, you shower of misfits. We might as well see how this is going to turn out.”

  The band of cats pulled back and stood warily some metres away. Bewildered, they eyed the unusual stones.

  “SKERRDUNK…BLADDERK…CLADDEK…KIRRUMP…LARROPP!”

  The Shamrogues returned to being themselves. With each successive sound, the cats became more jumpy and shuffled further away from the spectacle. Trom, settling his beard with his fingers, addressed them.

  “To begin with, we come in peace from across the Irish Sea. We are known as Shamrogues and are here in your land to try and solve a nasty problem.”

  Here, he went into detail about the pollution, as the cats sat and licked at wounds they had inflicted on one another during their attack on the Shamrogues. Finally, it was time for the leader of the feral creatures to speak.

  “We are a wandering group of Manx cats who depend on our wits to save ourselves from starvation. Sorry about earlier, but anything that looks edible, well….I must admit that you looked promising, that is, before you defied our efforts to capture you. As for the pollution you speak of, I think you’re in entirely the wrong place. This is an island called the Isle of Man. I’ve heard of that reprocessing plant, though. Before I returned to the wild, I had a master who often spoke of it. My name is Ferine, by the way.”

  Gorum was crestfallen. “You mean that the buildings I spotted are not the ones we set out to reach?” At this, he pointed out what he had seen.

  Ferine shook his head. “They are Peel Castle and Saint German’s Cathedral on the west coast. Not the coast you’re looking for, I’m afraid. From what my old master used to say, you’ll need to travel around our island and head east across the sea again. But, your direction so far has been more-or-less correct.”

  “Back out on the sea again,” Trom muttered and looked at the others. “But so be it. We’ve come this far, we might as well finish what we’ve started.”

  There was silence among the Shamrogues. To have thought they were so close to their goal, and to realise they had further to go, was a disappointment.

  Ferine, once he realised there was no meal to be had, purred loudly and padded to his waiting pack.

  “We must be on our way. Rumbling stomachs need to be answered with food. If you are ever this way again, look for Ferine. You’ll be given a better welcome to our shores. Goodbye to you all. It’s been interesting, to say the least.”

  Silently, they rambled away in single file, whiskers twitching.

  “Did you notice anything?” Gorum asked the others, who replied with questioning gazes. “No tails,” he continued. “Those cats had no tails. Not at all like that cat Percy who we met on our visit to Dublin City. I wonder why they have no tails. They must be unique to this island.”

  “Well, we don’t have time to think about it now,” Trom said. “While it’s still dark, we should be our way again. As soon as we’ve uncovered the currach and refitted the sail, we must take to the sea at the first opportunity.”

  So all their good work at concealment would have to be undone, but at least their meeting with Ferine had saved them from going on a wild goose chase. They set to their duties with renewed determination and were soon at the lapping sea’s edge, ready to launch the boat on the rolling waves. After several failed attempts due to the strong current, they eventually managed to get out into the bay as morning began to break. Soaked with sea spray, they were speedily dried by the strong wind that blew their craft northwards to the top of the island. Here, they turned at the Point of Ayre lighthouse and watched it fade into the distance as the currach cut out across the open sea.

  It was not necessary for Croga to perform her magic as she had on the first leg of their journey. A blustery breeze filled the sail to full stretch, and she was pleased to be able to take her ease in the stern while Gorum re-assumed his role at the tiller. The crossing appeared to be going much more smoothly now because of a calmer sea and the warm sunshine. On the far-off horizon, seagulls flew abo
ve a fishing trawler whose net was cast to gather in large shoals of unwary silvery fish. The Shamrogues became somewhat concerned.

  “Perhaps if we drop our sail they’ll stand less chance of spotting us,” Trom advised the others, who willingly agreed.

  Glic, who had shinned up the mast to loosen the old tent-cloth, noticed a change in the fishing boat’s direction. He squinted to focus better. What he saw was not very comforting.

  “That huge boat is heading straight for us!” he yelled. In sheer panic, he fell from the mast and landed in the bottom of the currach, having only untied one side of the sail which now fluttered like a beckoning flag.

  “Maneg procto…!” the leader uttered. “We might as well all start shouting and waving with the way you’ve left that sailcloth.”

  But there was little hope of remaining undetected as the trawler sped closer. Sona, who hadn’t taken her eyes off the trawler, shouted, “It’s going full-speed ahead. We’re going to be rammed!”

  She jumped up and down in a nervous fit at what was certain to happen. The currach rocked uneasily and she almost lost her balance, but Croga caught hold of her little pink friend and prevented her from toppling into the sea.

  Gorum felt a tremor ripple beneath the thin skin of the currach. He sensed a presence somewhere deep below their threatened craft.

  “Something great and sinister is drawing the fishing boat backwards,” he cried above the thrashing sea. “They’ve caught something massive in their nets!”

  Glic struggled to rise from the bottom of the heaving currach. He grabbed the side and peered over. “Eeeeekkkkk!” he exclaimed and ducked back down again. “I can’t bear to watch!”

  Letting go of the tiller, Gorum leaped onto the stern rail and sat precariously, his pebble feet over the water. “As captain of this boat, I am duty bound to save us.” At this point, he jumped from view into the sea.

  As he descended below the waves, Gorum could make out the shadowy blackness of something gigantic making its way through the water, seemingly unaware it was towing the fishing vessel behind it.