"Yeah," said Bingo. "What's that about, eh? Answer me that."
"It's all right," said Napoleon, "I . . . asked Flinthead to do it, so we could sleep and eat without being disturbed."
"We could get drowned in here if the tide rose," said Vulge, "I don't like it. Us Borribles hate being locked in anywhere."
"You've got a cheek." Napoleon defended himself. "Why, this is part of Flinthead's own apartments that he's gone and let us use."
"He don't exactly trust us, do he?" said Vulge, striding up and down the room. "Don't let us go anywhere on our own, and locks us in for the night. I hates being locked up at all. It's worse than the nick, underground, gives me the creeps."
"It's not natural," continued Bingo. "All this bowing and scraping to Flinthead, shouldn't bow an' scrape to anyone, a Borrible. I don't think your lot are very Borrible, come to that."
"Are you saying that I'm not a Borrible?" cried Napoleon, livid, and he pulled off his hat and pointed to his ears.
"We don't know about you, yet," put in Knocker, quietly.
"And we don't know about you, yet," retorted Napoleon, turning on the Battersea lookout.
"How does a bloke like Flinthead get all that power, eh?" asked Orococco, "that's what I should like to know."
"Because he saw what needed doing and he did it, because he's tougher and brighter than anyone else," answered Napoleon furiously. "You're not at home now. We came on this trip to get the Rumbles, not for a holiday. Why don't you all just have a good meal and a good night's sleep. That's what I am going to do," and with that he began to help himself to the food that was lavishly distributed around the room and he would not be drawn into any further conversation that night. The others grumbled amongst themselves but then, being just as hungry and as tired as Napoleon, they tucked into the good food, chose a few cushions and blankets and soon they were asleep.
They slept long and deeply and woke late. Fresh food and drink was brought to them and when they were ready to march there was a loud knocking at the door and it was thrown open. In the doorway, and in the high corridor beyond, stood a crowd of about thirty Wendles: the elite guard, bearing torches and armed and dressed for a foray beyond the limits of the underground caverns. Each one carried a Rumble-stick as well as a catapult, and bandoliers were slung over their shoulders. The detachment was again led by Tron and Halfabar.
"Come," called Tron into the room, "we are to take you to King George's Park, then you have only a little way to go before you cross Merton Road and so leave our territory."
The Adventurers checked their catapults and stones, stepped out into the corridor and stood together. The Wendle guards formed up tightly, and the whole group made off down the tunnel, guiding their steps with circles of light from their torches.
After a brisk march they entered the huge hall where they had met with Flinthead. The small stage was still there but now no one sat on it nor was there one Wendle to be seen. They crossed the hall and entered a tunnel which soon joined the Wandle and they followed the tow-path along its edge. They met no one and Tron explained.
"Do not forget that it is night-time, about four in the morning above, and the night-stealers have not returned from their work and the day-stealers are still sleeping. The daytime shift dress as other Borribles dress, like normal children. We have permanent lookouts everywhere along Merton Road; that is the beginning of no-man's land. There is a system for getting messages back here, though we are gradually stealing enough components to build our own early warning relay with radios. We're getting them out of old taxis."
The Adventurers had to admit to themselves that the Wendles seemed much more friendly this morning. Even Halfabar was sorry that he and Adolf had misunderstood each other so much on their first meeting and he hoped that in the future they would be good friends.
"Come back safely so that you can tell me the story of your adventures," he admonished the German in warm tones.
"So I will, Halfabar," hooted Adolf, "so I will."
Suddenly on a command from Tron the column halted. They had come to the end of the underground section of the River Wandle. All torches were extinguished and the warriors stood motionless in the obscurity, waiting patiently until their eyes had become completely accustomed to the darkness. Only then did Tron make a sign and one of his scouts slipped soundlessly from the tunnel, wading slowly through the mud and water.
Once outside he gave a low whistle which was answered by the guard on duty. Tron lifted his hand again and two more of the bodyguard went into the river. Tron did this several times until half of his command had gone. Then the first Wendle re-appeared and assured Tron and Halfabar that all was well. Guards had spread out down the Wandle and had seen no suspicious activity; it was not quite dawn and they could get their Borribles to King George's Park and be back underground before it was full daylight and people started going to work.
Tron waved the Adventurers forward and one by one they slithered down the steep bank until they were waist deep in clinging sludge. They strode away stiffly, well protected in their borrowed waders, but they could not escape the ghastly odours of the mud which were released in visible clouds as they pushed their legs and feet along. But they did not have far to wade. As soon as they were clear of the tunnel entrance the guards hauled them onto a small path lying on the east side of the river and there the escort awaited them.
"And how do you like Wandsworth, my friend Adolf?" asked Halfabar as he pulled the German to the bank. Adolf spat down into the muddy stream. "Why, it is just as smelly as Hamburg, I feel quite at home," and he grinned.
The column formed up once more, half the bodyguard in front with a torch or two to show the way, the Adventurers in the middle, and the rest of the bodyguard behind. Tron gave the word and they stepped out in good order. The Wendles sang heartily as they marched, a stirring fighting song which was their favourite.
"We are the Wendles of Wandsworth Town,
We're always up and the others are down.
We're rough and we're tough and we don't give a damn,
We are the elite of the Borrible clan.
Reach for your Rumble-sticks!
Try all your dirty tricks!
Nothing can beat us.
And none shall defeat us.
Say a wrong word and we'll hammer you down,
We are the Wendles of Wandsworth Town!
We are the geezers who live below
The shoppers and coppers and the traffic flow.
We revel in muck and we rollick in mud,
The slime of the sewers enriches our blood.
Call yourself Borribles!
We are the Horribles!
Cruel black-as-inkers,
Cut-throating stinkers!
Say a wrong word and we'll hammer you down,
We are the Wendles of Wandsworth Town!"
Napoleon joined in energetically, showing his companions that he knew the words and was really quite superior to any ordinary Borrible.
They had emerged from the underground stronghold on the south side of Wandsworth High Street and Tron and the others led them along at a fast pace in a southwesterly direction. The sky became lighter and the torches were turned off, as daylight began to show the travellers where to put their feet. They had not marched for long when the green fields of King George's Park came into view of the leaders. Tron raised his right hand and the column halted.
"What's going on?" Bingo asked Napoleon, who was standing just in front of him.
"Wait and see," said Napoleon. "They know what they're doing, it's their manor, you know."
"I'll be glad when we're away on our own," whispered Vulge, who though small was very independent.
As if in answer to their impatience Tron came back down the line and spoke to them. "We have to cross the river here," he said, "but there are some secret stepping-stones, just under the surface of the water, so you shouldn't even get wet. Halfabar will go over first and show you where they are. I must get back u
nderground before it gets much lighter. We're too conspicuous along here, not like the streets."
Halfabar stepped down from the towpath and using his spear to prod out his way he found the stepping stones below the mud. He knew very well where the stones were but he wanted to make them obvious to the Adventurers. Each one of them was lent a spear by a member of the bodyguard and they followed Halfabar across the wide stretch of hard-topped, soft-centred mud. The mud became slimy water eventually and they crossed that too until they came up against the railings of the park. Here Halfabar had tied himself to a spike and he leant right over to pull up each member of the expedition as he or she arrived.
Not one person slipped from the sunken stones and soon Tron joined them to give directions for the next stage of their journey. The bodyguard remained on the east bank, squatting on their haunches, obediently waiting for their leaders to return.
"Right," said Tron as soon as he stood amongst them, "now we must leave you. The next part of your trip will be easy. We have sent messages out during the night and our lookouts know of your passage. You won't see them but they will see you, but as they know what you look like, and how many you are, they won't bother you as long as you keep to the route. If you stray from it, we shall not be responsible for the consequences. You will follow the river through the park until you come to the end of the fields. There the river goes under a bridge. Above you is a road, Mapleton Road. That will take you westward, across another bit of the park, past the bandstand, and at the end of Mapleton turn into Longstaff, right at the end, then left, then right. You will find yourself in Merton Road, where our influence and power to help you ends. Take a southward direction along Merton until you reach Replingham. We have our last outpost in a school there. Take that road westward until you reach the Southfields, which lie under the great hill you will have to climb to reach Rumbledom. Once you have left our last outpost the dangers that wait for you are many. Beyond Southfields there will be a Rumble scout behind every tree. You will have to devise some way of passing their lines unnoticed, or you will never reach Rumbledom alive, let alone achieve your aim. I wish you success and the gaining of a good name and . . . don't get caught."
With this Tron and Halfabar left the Adventurers, taking the spare Rumble-sticks and waders with them. They bounded over the Wandle without hesitation, flitting across the mud of the river as if it had been as solid as the pavement along Wandsworth High Street. On the other side they gathered their bodyguard together and with one wave of the hand only they ran off at a trot, back to the safety of their underground citadel.
When they had gone, Vulge patted Napoleon on the back with a friendly hand. "Lost your playmates, now. Have to put up with us again, won't yer?"
Napoleon looked sad. "He is a fine Borrible that Tron," he said, "and he has given us good advice."
Torreycanyon shouldered his haversack and looked out over the deserted park. "Well, my chinas, I think we'd better get a move on and get as far as we can before too many people are out and about." And without a further word the ten Adventurers moved off through the green silence bearing their burdens with them.
Under Napoleon's guidance and using their street maps they stayed exactly on the route that Tron had indicated and it led them to Merton Road as he had said it would. It was a busy and noisy road, with cars flashing by and adults rushing along with their heads down. Some stood in bus queues, shifting from foot to foot or staring helplessly after the buses that had left them behind.
When the Borribles came to Replingham Road they gathered together and crossed in a bunch, avoiding the heavy traffic. On a corner stood a large secondary school of five storeys. Groups of pupils stood outside the main gates waiting for the whistle blast that would announce the start of lessons. Just to one side of the group stood two Wendles disguised in the uniform of the school. Napoleon went up to them and asked, "Borribles?" They nodded and waited for the rest of the band to approach, moving away from the school-children before they spoke.
"We are the last outpost. When you leave us you're on your own. You go straight up there. See the twist in the road? Follow it. It's a long walk, they say, lonely, a kind of no-man's land; no Borribles, no Rumbles . . . as far as we know. Things will change when you get to the Southfields and cross over a large windy space into Augustus Road. It will start to climb rapidly; steep, very. Then more trees and lots of posh houses. Some Wendles have won their names up there. The stories say there are no shops, so you won't be able to live off the land, and there will be Rumble patrols in every garden, I should think. I don't know how you'll get through without being sussed—but then that's your problem, isn't it?"
The two Wendle scouts looked at each other as if to say that nobody would get them on such a foolhardy mission. They were being brave enough just guarding this place and likely to "get caught" at any minute.
The Adventurers thanked them and strode on, realising that their Adventure was perhaps a lot more forlorn than they had at first imagined and that they had many perils still between them and the achievement of their goal.
"Now," thought Knocker, "the Adventure begins in earnest, with dangers everywhere, and it will be a long, long while before we return to the safety of Wandsworth."
6
As the two Wendle scouts had indicated, the journey up the rising slope of Replingham was long and tiring. The houses looked uninhabited and bored and there was hardly any adult movement. It was past nine-thirty in the morning and children were at their lessons, their parents at work. This was the first day-time trek of the expedition and the Borribles kept closely together, ready to run, hide or fight. Their eyes flickered nervously to right and left; their catapults were grasped in their hands and stones were loaded ready for firing.
They trudged on upwards towards the lower slopes of Rumbledom, the haversacks becoming heavier with every step they took. Occasionally a door opened in the dead front of a house and a woman shook a doormat or came out to whitestone a step. Sometimes a man scurried by, late for work or on some special errand, and he would turn to look at this strange band of earnest children with haversacks and catapults and woollen hats. But although the man was puzzled, he was too late and too busy to think about the bizarre nature of the sight and he would hurry on.
The steady plodding of their march was interrupted when a car passed them, close to the pavement, and screeched to a halt fifty yards further up the road. A policeman, burly in his blue uniform, leaped from the car and stood in the middle of the pavement with his arms and legs spread wide as if he owned the road, the front gardens, the houses and all the world around him. His face was red and glowing with pleasure.
"Blimey! A Woollie in a nondescript," said Bingo, who knew a lot of police terminolgoy because he lived in a nick. "There'll be another one behind us."
Glancing over their shoulders the Borribles saw another car parked a hundred yards behind them and a second brawny policeman was getting out of it, a grin on his face.
"Verdammt," swore Adolf, "we'd better get out of here."
To their left opened one of the turnings that led from Replingham; it was called Engadine and the Borribles were never to forget the name. Slowly, stretching their catapult rubbers, the Adventurers backed into it. As soon as they were round the corner they took to their heels and put on a burst of speed for twenty or thirty yards.
"Bingo," shouted Knocker, "you know the Woollies, you'd better take charge."
The two policemen appeared on the corner and stood together for a moment looking along the street at the Borribles. They waved the first car back to them, the other flashed on up the hill.
Bingo said, "That second nondescript will have gone round the block to seal off the other end of the road. I think those Woollies know we're Borribles and not just normal. We're going to have to fight this one, and even then there's a good chance of getting caught."
"Oh, I'm glad this has happened," grinned Stonks, flexing the elastic on his catapult." Walking gets boring on its own."
The Borribles, pretending to look very frightened, backed away from the advancing policemen, slowly at first, then more quickly until they were running as hard as they could, which was very fast. The policemen put a lot into their running and were gaining when Bingo called out at the top of his voice, "A Borrible!" and the Adventurers turned, springing into the air and landing with their catapults stretched. They fired and both policemen fell as if their legs had been scythed from underneath them. Five stones arriving with the force of bullets all at once on the knee-caps can be as effective as amputation when it comes to running.
The police driver, at the near end of the street, had been watching the battle from the open window of his car, but when he saw his two colleagues rolling about on the ground and clasping their knees in pain he shoved his motor into gear and charged it down the middle of Engadine to come to their rescue.
Chalotte ran nimbly to the cover of a front garden. As the car came by, she let it have a stone, glancing along the bonnet. It was beautifully done; the windscreen became veined suddenly with a million lines of cold silver and the driver could see nothing. He was driving too fast and he swerved to be sure of avoiding his crippled friends who still lay in the road. The car, completely out of control, bounced across the pavement narrowly missing Stonks and sending Adolf spinning into the gutter. There was a sound of tearing metal and shattering glass as the car buried its nose in the brick coping that protected one of the house-fronts. The driver, who had earlier, and unwisely, unfastened his seat-belt, went through the frail windscreen like a locomotive and concussed himself on what was left of the wall.
"Yippee," yelled Bingo and, "Yippee," yelled the others, but Vulge called a warning. "He's on the walkie-talkie. There'll be hundreds up here if we don't watch out."
The Borribles Page 11