by Jon Evans
"Lord Jumper won't be jumping any more," Snout said, and laughed.
Jumper pulled himself up on his forelegs. Patch could see he was in great pain.
"Redeye," Jumper said in a ragged voice, to the squirrel who stood among the rats. "How can you have you done this?"
The other squirrel looked uneasy, and didn't answer. Patch was glad to have his name. It was Redeye he had smelled in Silver's drey.
"He did it for me," Snout said. "He has sworn to serve me, as I have sworn to serve the King Beneath. The king in whose name you and all your kind will die and be devoured."
Snout stepped away from the knot of rat-tails on which he stood. The knot began to squirm like a nest of worms as the rats untied themselves from one another. As they were released the rats formed into a tight circle around Jumper. Snout joined the circle. So did Redeye. Patch knew what would happen next. He didn't want to watch. But it was too awful a thing to turn away from.
"No," Jumper begged them. "No, please. Not like this."
"Yes," Snout hissed. "Exactly like this."
And then they swarmed the crippled lord of the Treetops. Jumper howled three times before he fell silent beneath the frenzied mass of biting rats. Redeye seemed more rat than squirrel as he tore at Jumper's body with his sharp fangs. In scarcely more time than it takes to tell it there was nothing left of Jumper but scraps, bones, and a puddle of blood. Even then the rats began to gnaw on Jumper's bones and lick his blood. They would leave nothing of him at all.
Patch retreated silently to the wooden plank that led out of the pit. He felt colder than he had on the worst day of the winter. The squirrel Redeye had betrayed Jumper to rats, helped to kill him, helped to eat him. And Redeye's scent had been in Silver's drey. Patch climbed numbly into the sunlight, over the fence, back to the concrete, heedless of the passing humans and the death machines. They held scarcely any terror for him now; all he could think about was what he had seen in the pit below.
"What did you see?" Toro called out, from a tree. "What was down there?"
Patch said, "I have to go back to the Kingdom."
To The Meadow
Returning to the Center Kingdom was relatively easy, now that Patch knew how to cross the wastelands. He was relieved when he once again felt grass beneath his paws. But he was also very worried, and he immediately dashed for the maple tree next to his own. He was too late. Tuft's drey was empty; he and Brighteyes had already taken their children to swear to the Meadow tribe.
Patch considered a moment, and then he took the sky-road to his own tree, and descended to the drey of his friend and neighbour Twitch. He half-expected to find that Twitch too had gone to the Meadow. But Twitch was in his drey, and Patch was very pleased to find that he was not alone, but was with Patch's oldest friend Sniffer.
"Patch!" Twitch cried out, excitedly jumping to his feet when he saw Patch at the drey entrance. "Sniffer is here! Sniffer found me food!"
And indeed a chestnut and two acorns sat on the floor of Twitch's drey. It made sense that Sniffer, of all the Treetops squirrels, had been able to find food. Sniffer had the sharpest nose in all of Treetops, probably in all the Center Kingdom. It was said he could smell a buried acorn from halfway up a tree.
"I brought it for you too, Patch," Sniffer said.
"Thank you," Patch said, "but I've eaten."
Sniffer gave him a sharp look.
"You found food too?" Twitch asked. "Where? How was it? Was it acorns? Was it chestnuts? Did humans bring it? Are the maples budding? Oh, I would love a nice fresh maple bud right now. I love nuts, you know I love nuts, but it's been only nuts all winter, I'd love a maple bud. Or a fresh grub, oh, a nice juicy grub. Or best of all, a tulip bulb, imagine, Patch, tulips! I just can't wait for spring. What kind of food did you find, Patch? Was it good? Is there more?"
Patch had to interrupt. It was difficult to get Twitch to stop talking about food once he had started. Patch said, harshly, "Jumper is dead."
Sniffer and Twitch stared at him.
"He was eaten by rats," Patch said. "And a squirrel named Redeye. In the mountains. I saw it all. And Redeye was in Silver's drey, I smelled him there. Sniffer, do you think you can follow his scent?"
"Dead?" Twitch asked, still trying to understand. Twitch was bigger and stronger and could run faster than any other squirrel in Treetops, but he had never been able to understand things particularly quickly. "Lord Jumper? Eaten by rats? In the mountains? You were in the mountains?"
"Yes," Patch said.
"This is serious," Sniffer said. "This is very serious."
Patch inclined his head in agreement.
"Did you say Redeye?" Twitch asked. "I know Redeye. He's of the Meadow. He's Gobbler clan. One of his eyes is red and he's called Redeye. Just like you have that white patch on your head and you're called Patch. And I twitch a lot and I'm called Twitch. And Sniffer –"
"Yes, thank you," Sniffer interrupted.
When Twitch wasn't talking about food, he often spent a lot of time restating the very obvious. But Twitch did have a very good memory for animals and their names. If Twitch said Redeye was a squirrel of the Meadow, then it was certainly so.
"I'll take you to Silver's drey so you can know his scent," Patch said. "And then we'll go to the Meadow. Maybe we can find him there."
"It's a long way to the Meadow," Sniffer objected. "It's cold. It might be night before we can get back."
"We can find a tree to stay in."
Sniffer looked dubious.
"Please, Sniffer," Patch said. "Silver is missing. Jumper is dead. This is serious. You said so yourself."
"Serious means dangerous," Sniffer muttered. "All right. Just … just let me go to my drey and get a little more food. Twitch can eat all this himself. Then I'll come back here and we can go to Silver's drey and to the Meadow."
"Thank you," Patch said, but Sniffer did not stay to hear his thanks. Sniffer's tail was already disappearing out the entrance to Twitch's drey. Sniffer did not usually move so quickly. Patch supposed he wanted to hurry to make sure they could get back before night.
"Tell me about the food in the mountains," Twitch said eagerly.
"Not now, Twitch," Patch said distractedly. "You should eat. It's a long way to the Meadow. You need your strength."
Patch was thinking about what might have happened to Silver, and at the same time, he was trying not to think about what might have happened.
Twitch looked at his chestnut and two acorns. Then he looked at Patch, and said, in a tense, strained voice, "Would you like some?"
"No, thank you," Patch said.
Twitch grinned with relief and fell to his dinner. By the time Sniffer got back there was nothing left of the three nuts but their shells.
They had a long way to go. In general, the Treetops tribe was spread across the western section of the Center Kingdom, the Meadow tribe was in the south, the Ramble tribe was in the center and the east, and the Northern tribe inhabited the kingdom's farthest northern reaches. There were exceptions, such as a colony of Meadow squirrels just north of the Great Sea, and those Treetops settlers who lived in the north; but Patch and his friends lived in the heart of Treetops territory. A journey to the green fields of the Meadow and back would occupy at least half a day. Much of the journey required ground travel rather than the sky-road, and that meant warily crossing concrete strips, avoiding dogs and humans, checking the skies for danger, and so forth.
But it was not while they were on the ground that danger struck. It struck instead when Patch, Sniffer and Twitch were in a dense cluster of cherry trees, travelling rapidly along the sky-road to the south. They did not hear a flutter of wings. They did not see a dark shadow streak along the ground towards them. The first they knew of the red-tailed hawk was when it seized Patch with talons sharp as broken glass and snatched him up from the cherry tree, carried him screaming into the sky to be killed and eaten.
Animal Language
A brief word is perhaps in order on
the subject of animal languages.
I have already made it clear, I hope, that animals do not think in the way that you and I do. It should not surprise you to learn that they do not speak like humans either. In fact sound plays little part in the language of most animals. Many animals speak mostly with their bodies, by moving their heads and limbs, and with pheromones, chemicals released by special glands that long ago withered away in humans.
There is of course no one animal language. There are as many animal languages as there are animal species. It is true, however, that the more similar the animal, the more similar their language. Squirrels, chipmunks, rats and mice are all rodents, and can understand one another very well. Dogs are not rodents, but they are mammals; a dog and a squirrel could have a conversation, if it ever occurred to the dog to say anything other than "Kill you and eat you!" It is fair to say that, with a little effort, all mammals can speak Mammal to one another – except for humans, who have lost all their powers of animal speech, and the great apes, who understand sounds and motions but not pheromones, and so are half-deaf and half-dumb.
Birds are another matter entirely. Birds are the descendants of dinosaurs, more like reptiles than like mammals. Again, while all bird species speak their own language, it is fair to say all birds can speak Bird. But birds, like the great apes, do not use pheromones. Bird is a language entirely of sounds and motions. It is because of this that birds and mammals can only usually communicate a few basic notions. Patch's ability to speak Bird was quite rare. But since Bird is half body language, you can imagine how difficult it was for him to speak while his body was held by the hawk's strong and terribly sharp talons.
As for reptiles, I will have more to say of them in time.
A Bargain of Mice and Words
Patch squirmed and wriggled, fighting for freedom, trying to break free of the hawk's vicious talons. He had already been carried higher than the highest tree of the Center Kingdom; indeed he was higher than many of the mountains, and he knew a fall might well kill him; but he was small, and would not fall hard, and so escape from the hawk's claws meant at least a chance of survival, compared to the certainty of being eaten by the hawk if he did not escape. So he struggled with all his strength. But the hawk was too strong. All Patch managed to do was work the painful talons even deeper into his flesh.
Patch gave up and sagged limply. He was going to die. That was simply all there was to it. Every animal had a time to die, and this was his. He looked down at the Center Kingdom from high above. He had never seen it like this before, its beautiful green rectangle set amid the gray mountains. He committed the striking image to his memory book before remembering there was no point; soon he would be dead, and the dead have no memories at all. The trees of the Center Kingdom looked as small as blades of grass. He wondered which tree he had been taken from.
It occurred to Patch that it was very strange for a hawk to capture a squirrel from a tree. Even in winter, hawks usually avoided diving into trees, for fear of branches that might tear at their faces and feathers. Hawks usually preyed only on animals in open spaces. Patch had been extremely unlucky.
This realization made Patch so angry at the unfairness of the world that he shouted out to the hawk, in broken sound-only Bird, "Why take me from tree? Why not take squirrel on ground?"
The hawk was so surprised it nearly dropped him.
"You speak Bird?" the hawk asked, its voice rasping and imperious.
"Yes," Patch said.
"You speak Bird," the hawk repeated. It considered for a moment. "Well then, my furry little lunch, let us speak a moment before I dine."
The hawk changed course, headed for a conical turret atop one of the mountains, and swooped into a perfect landing on a small, circular, walled stone platform at the very top of the turret, a platform shaped a little like a bird's nest. It was only a few squirrel-lengths across, and its smooth vertical walls could not be climbed. There was no way for Patch to escape.
"What is your name, little squirrel?" the hawk asked, releasing Patch.
Patch stood to his full height, painfully, for he was bleeding from the talon wounds, and said for what he expected was the very last time in his life, "I am Patch son of Silver, of the Seeker clan, of the Treetops tribe, of the Center Kingdom. Who are you that asks?"
"I am Karmerruk," the hawk said proudly. "Now tell me, what have you done to Snout, that he wants you dead so badly?"
Patch stiffened with surprise. "The rat," he said, amazed. "You serve the rat."
Then he cried out as Karmerruk's talons slashed his face.
"I serve no one and nothing," Karmerruk said, his voice low and very dangerous. "I am a Prince of the Air, and I live only for myself, my mate, and my nestlings. The rat serves me. He finds me mice, morsels which, I must say, I far prefer to squirrels. And from time to time, I deign to capture other creatures that Snout would like eaten. As I will soon eat you, insolent little squirrel."
"I'm sorry," Patch said, trembling. "I didn't mean to offend you."
"You're just a groundling, you couldn't have known any better," Karmerruk said dismissively. "But for a groundling you do speak Bird remarkably well. Answer me. Why does Snout want you dead?"
"Because I saw him kill Jumper."
"Jumper?"
"An important squirrel," Patch explained. "A lord. Snout and his rats and another squirrel killed him."
"And why would Snout do a thing like that?"
Patch racked his memory, and remembered: "He said he served the King Beneath."
Karmerruk looked silently at Patch for a long moment. Then he beat his wings twice, and used their lift to leap to the edge of the wall that surrounded Patch. Karmerruk turned his back to Patch, folded his wings and looked down at the ground.
"There is no King Beneath," Karmerruk said. "The King Beneath is a myth."
Patch did not dare speak.
"I hear such news of strange and terrible things below. This long winter, these terrible things, it must be a very difficult time to be a groundling. I think it will only get worse, little squirrel. I think I do you a kindness by eating you now."
"Excuse me if I don't agree," Patch said angrily.
Karmerruk paid no notice. "Perhaps I have indulged this Snout long enough. But he takes such care not to be found. Where did you see Snout and this other little squirrel, this traitor to his own kind? And what is the traitor's name?"
Patch did not answer.
Karmerruk turned back and looked down at Patch with a hawk's terrible unblinking eyes. "I asked you a question, little squirrel."
Patch swallowed, and said in a very small voice, "I won't tell you unless you let me go."
Karmerruk was speechless at Patch's temerity.
"You don't want to eat me," Patch said. "You don't like squirrel. You said so yourself. Let me go and I'll tell you what you want."
"You will tell me what I want without this impudent bargaining," Karmerruk said, leaping right down at Patch, who had to back away quickly to avoid being caught beneath the hawk's talons. "Your only choice is whether you speak in words or screams."
He advanced slowly towards Patch until the squirrel's back was to the stone wall.
Patch said, desperately, "I know where there are lots of mice. Families of them. Hundreds of them."
Karmerruk stopped his advance. "You lie."
"I'm not lying," Patch said. "I swear by the moon I'm not lying."
Something strange happened to Patch when he said those words. A odd shivery feeling came from inside him and spread right to the edge of his skin.
"You swear by the moon," Karmerruk said, impressed.
"Yes."
"And you offer me a bargain. If I let you live, you will answer all of my questions, and tell me where these mice are."
"Yes."
Karmerruk considered. "I think I like you, little squirrel. You have the heart of a hawk. So I will strike this bargain with you."
"Swear by the moon," Patch demanded.
Patch, who didn't really have much choice in the matter, said, "All right."
Patch answered Karmerruk's questions. Then the hawk leapt up to the wall and disappeared over its edge. The time that passed before he returned felt like most of a day, but must have been much less.
"Your words were pure and true, little squirrel," Karmerruk said, as he fluttered back down into Patch's prison. "I found both pit and mice, and filled my belly with the latter. Now it is time to fulfil my own oath."
And Karmerruk reached out with his talons and once again seized Patch in their cruel grip. He beat his powerful wings and again carried Patch up into the sky. But he did not set a course for Patch's home. Instead he travelled due south, directly away from the Center Kingdom.
"No!" Patch cried out.
"I swore to let you live," Karmerruk said, and there was chilling laughter in his voice. "And so I will. But we can't have Snout knowing that, can we? Not before I find and dine on him. You will live, little squirrel. But a long way away from the home you once knew."
Above The Sky-Road
The talons that gripped Patch's flesh seemed to stab at him with Karmerruk's every wingbeat; he was bleeding from those wounds and from his face, where the hawk had slashed him for his impudence; he was aghast that Karmerruk was taking him away from his home, apparently forever; he was terribly frightened by the thought of his unknown destination – but at the same time, as Patch hung from Karmerruk's claws and looked down at the world, he could not help but marvel at all the wonders he saw below.
Patch had never imagined that there was so much water in the world. He had never known that the Great Sea of the Center Kingdom was a mere pond, and the Center Kingdom itself, and all its surrounding mountains, stood on an island in a sea so immense it seemed to go on forever. There seemed to be as much water as land in the world. And the Center Kingdom was not the only plot of green that Patch could see. Indeed it was not even the largest.