The Borribles

by Michael Larrabeiti

  The Borribles agreed to the plan and gathered by the door, while Napoleon unlocked it and looked into the tunnel. He stepped out after a moment and motioned the others to follow him and they crept towards the guardroom, united again.

  They overpowered the two off-duty guards and in a short time they were dressed as fierce Wendle bodyguards, wearing black rubber waders and orange jackets. They armed themselves with steel catapults and double bandoliers; there were Rumble-sticks in the room too and each Borrible took one.

  "All we have to do now," said Napoleon, "is march along in an orderly fashion, and all being well we'll march straight onto the boat and no one will give us a second glance. It will just seem as if I am taking a fresh guard to one of the outlets."

  Knocker jammed his tin-can helmet onto his head and said, "I want the money," just like that, calm, toneless.

  Napoleon looked at him in amazement. "Don't be mad," he protested. "It's kept right next to Flinthead's apartments. There's a squad of the bodyguard sitting on it all the time, day and night."

  "That's right," said Knocker, "and you're Keeper of the Box, aren't you? I'm sure you can order them to stand up for five minutes."

  "Straight up," said Stonks. "I never cared about the money from the word go, in fact I hate it, but I don't like being shoved into prison, half-starved, and then used like some stuffed hare at a greyhound track to be chased about in tunnels by a lot of tin-helmeted twits. It's the principle of the thing."

  "I agree, man," said Orococco, "if we leave the money behind, old Flintbonce will be sitting pretty and laughing away all over his flat face. I'd like to put one over on him."

  "Yes," said Sydney, "he ought to be shown that Borribles should treat Borribles fair and square, if nothing else."

  "It's so dangerous," said Napoleon.

  Knocker said, "Anyone against the idea?"

  "Nobody takes my catapult away and tells me to piss off," said Bingo. "Nobody."

  "Me neither," said Torreycanyon.

  Vulge said, "Let's just say that this one's for Adolf."

  It was this last remark that brooked no argument, only Chalotte had something to add. She shrugged her shoulders and smiled exhaustedly. "I think you're all mad," she said, "but how can I stay behind now?"

  Napoleon sighed, looked at their faces, and gave in.

  They formed up in pairs and, looking every inch as military and as ferocious as Wendle bodyguards, they tramped out of the guardroom and through the long sloping tunnels. They hummed the Wendle marching song as they went and any non-warriors they met hastily squeezed out of their way, or stepped into a side-tunnel to let them pass.

  "This is the way to escape," said Bingo to Knocker, who marched beside him and behind Napoleon, "with verve and bravado. I shall compose a song about this when I get back to Battersea."

  They marched for a long while but Napoleon led them with confidence this way and that in a maze of criss-crossing corridors. Not once were they questioned, not once were they given more than a brief disinterested glance. The power of the warrior class had been built up over a long period by Flinthead and now it was working against him. Warrior spoke only to warrior, ordinary Wendles kept their distance.

  Soon the tunnels became more spacious and were gracefully arched and dry under foot. This was the old Victorian part of the sewers and no longer used except by Wendles. It was a warm and comfortable section and that was why Flinthead had established his quarters here, and the room where the treasure-box was held was getting nearer at every step. In a deserted part of the tunnel Napoleon halted his company and explained what he had in mind.

  "It is nearly time for the guard to be changed," he said, looking at his watch. "You will pretend to be the new guard. You will march in, follow my orders exactly, and then I will march off with the old guard. I'll get back as soon as I can, on some pretext. We'll only have a few minutes before the real guard turns up, looking for me. They will discover the box gone and will raise the alarm. We'll have to run like a train to get to the boat. If anyone tries to interfere, hit him hard and run on. Remember these ain't Rumbles you'll be fighting, but Wendles, and the best of them."

  They formed up again and marched another fifty yards, and then wheeled smartly into a wide guardroom, very comfortably furnished. At the far end of the room was an iron door, rather like the one that had held them in prison, but this door was larger and heavier and studded with huge rivets.

  Napoleon yelled. "Guard, halt!" and the eight of them brought their rubber-heeled waders together as one man. "Oh, yes, very smart," said Napoleon, his face giving nothing away, and he went over to the door that led to the strongroom.

  He rapped on the door with the butt of his lance—a special knock it was, too—and the Borribles stood stiff to attention. A flap in the iron door swung open immediately and a helmeted Wendle's face could be seen through the opening.

  "I've brought the relief guard, sergeant," said Napoleon, and before the other could ask the question forming in his mind, Napoleon added, "I know I'm early but I'm on special business for Flinthead."

  The Wendle guard nodded, closed the flap and the door swung open and he marched his men out and formed them up in a line opposite the new arrivals. He handed the keys to Napoleon and observed, "There's one man short."

  "Yes," said Napoleon casually, "he'll be along in a minute. He wasn't ready in time. I couldn't wait."

  The sergeant of the guard fell in at the head of his men and waited for Napoleon's orders.

  Napoleon led his command into the strongroom and gave Knocker the keys. "Lock the door immediately, Wendle," he said in his sternest voice. "Let no one through but me," and without another look at the Adventurers he did an about turn and marched off with the sergeant and his eight men.

  As soon as Napoleon had gone, Knocker closed and locked the door and leant against it, the sweat trickling down under his armpits.

  The strongroom was small and the box stood on a table in the centre of it. Round the walls were comfortable armchairs for the guards and a couple of tables carrying food and drink. Wendle warriors wanted for nothing.

  "Help yourselves to some grub," said Knocker. "It may be a long while before we eat again."

  The Adventurers needed no second bidding but used the time to fill their stomachs, and their pockets, with food.

  All too quickly came the special knock at the door and Knocker opened the flap. His heart missed a beat. It was not Napoleon but Halfabar standing there. Luckily he was alone and did not recognise Knocker under the Wendle helmet.

  "Yes," said Knocker.

  "You mean, 'yes, sir'," said Halfabar.

  "Yes, sir," said Knocker.

  "Open up," sneered Halfabar. "I saw you marching up here and I want to know why there's only eight of you instead of the normal nine. That cocky little Napoleon has slipped up on the job this time. Promoted over my head, he was. I'll screw him for that."

  During this conversation Orococco had flattened himself against the wall and now he nodded to Knocker. Knocker unlocked the door, opened it and stepped back respectfully to allow the Wendle to enter. As Halfabar came across the threshold Orococco seized him by the throat and shoved him tight against the wall.

  "My friend Adolf ain't here," he said between his teeth, "but I know he'd want me to look after you before we leave."

  He shifted his grip and grabbed the Wendle by his scruff and seat, holding him up like a limp bolster. "Remember, Halfabar," hissed Orococco, "you can't live by bread alone," and he threw the Wendle into the room like a sack of spuds.

  "Leave him to me," he cried, his black face intoxicated with pleasure and his eyes rolling as they hadn't done since the Battle of Rumbledom. But Halfabar did not rise. Orococco had thrown him into the room with such gusto that the Wendle had broken his head against the box of money. His tin helmet had split open like a rotten orange. It was wedged over his face and his ginger hair sprouted through the crest like rusty springs from a discarded mattress. Blood dripped from the b
ox to the floor.

  "There," said Orococco, breathing deeply, "did you hear his brains rattle like dried lentils when I shook him?"

  It was Napoleon who knocked next and Knocker let him into the room. He started when he saw the body of Halfabar.

  "It's all right," said Knocker, "he was alone and we made no noise. He did not have time to cry out, Orococco got him."

  Napoleon nodded. "It's time to go," he said. "Most of the warriors are still sleeping. It's about one o'clock in the morning in the streets above, but they'll be waking soon for work. There are patrols coming and going too. It is all a question of luck now. As soon as they see that box they will know what we are up to."

  The Adventurers left the strongroom at a trot, Stonks and Torreycanyon carrying the money. They followed Napoleon at a sustained and speedy run down the wide bricked tunnel that led to the River Wandle, the boat, and safety. They ran and they ran, making little noise on the rubber feet of their stolen waders. They brushed past one or two ordinary Wendles but they moved so quickly that the box was not seen and no alarm raised. They were halfway to the river before they ran into trouble. Rounding a bend at full tilt they came upon a small night patrol of warriors returning from the outside world.

  "Stay where you are," shouted Napoleon. So used were the warriors to obeying, they stopped at once and for a minute did nothing. That minute was enough and the Adventurers sprang upon them and brought them down. But the noise of the scuffle attracted the attention of another patrol in one of the side tunnels and they saw in a flash what was happening, and worse, they saw the box.

  They fired their catapults and hit Stonks in the kidneys and Orococco in the arm, paralysing both Borribles for a few moments. The Adventurers returned the fire and the Wendles ran off, but the clamour they raised made the very walls shake.

  "That's it, now," shouted Napoleon, "they'll be on us in less time than it takes to steal a spud in Covent Garden. Run for your lives."

  Knocker and Bingo took up the box and the convoy raced on. The smell of the Wandle got stronger and the floor of the tunnel sloped more and more steeply.

  "We're getting there," panted Napoleon, "come on."

  The clashing of weapons came from behind and all around them in the hundreds of side tunnels. Wendles slept all over the vast sewer complex and could be out of bed and dressed for an emergency faster than a crew of London firemen.

  "If we don't get to the river first," said Napoleon, "we'll be up to our necks in mud before the night's out."

  They redoubled their efforts and, though their lungs were bursting, they ran faster. Now Chalotte and Orococco took the box, not even breaking their stride as they snatched up the burden.

  At last, with a cry of relief, they burst out onto the underground bank of the river, as dark green as ever, the tenacious mud bubbling just below the surface of the water. The tow-path was wide at this point and there rode their boat, The Silver Belle Flower , tied to the bank. Napoleon drew his knife and slashed the painter.

  "In with the box. Stonks, round to the front, you've got to pull real fast till it's wide and deep enough to row; then we've got to go like Oxford and Cambridge gone bonkers."

  He glanced up the tunnel. The noise of pursuit was getting nearer; any minute now they would be overtaken. Napoleon took Knocker by the arm.

  "Knocker," he whispered urgently, not wasting a word, "see that tunnel just behind us? It goes straight to the Thames; the river meanders. If we all get in the boat the Wendles will run straight down that tunnel and be at the outlet before us, cut us off and do for us. Two of us have got to stay here and stop them getting into that tunnel, give the others ten minutes', quarter-of-an-hour's grace, then they'll get away. Otherwise they won't. You and me?"

  Knocker looked behind him and back up the tunnel from which the pursuers would issue. "Not you," he said. "You are the navigator, you know the Wandle and you know the Thames. I will stay."

  "Not alone," Torreycanyon said, and pushed in between them. "Knocker is right; you must go. Two of us will be enough. Straight down that tunnel, you say? When we have dealt with the Wendles, we will catch you up."

  "Wait a quarter-of-an-hour," said Napoleon, "but be careful when you go down the tunnel, there's a guardroom down there, too. I'd better stay, all the same, three is better than two."

  "Then I will stay," said Orococco, who had leapt back out of the boat to see what they were doing. "Just make sure that Tooting's share of the money gets to Tooting."

  Napoleon took off his bandoliers and gave them to Knocker, and the others in the boat, when they realised what was happening, each removed one of their bandoliers and threw it to the bank. Then they stood sadly, just looking at their three comrades.

  "Oh, go on, Stonks, go on, run," shouted Knocker, and the boat jolted away and Napoleon leapt aboard as it left the shore. Knocker watched the boat spurt out of sight round the first bend, pulled steadily by the never-tiring Stonks. There had been no time for farewells and no time for pity.

  "We'll never see them again," said Knocker.

  "Well, we still got each other," said Orococco and he picked up the bandoliers.

  "Let us go out with a fight," cried Torreycanyon excitedly.

  "Yes," said Knocker, "whatever happens we've won and Flinthead and his pointed skull and his petrified grin will not laugh like we will laugh tonight."

  "We'd better get into the mouth of the short-cut," said Orococco. "We can't possibly hold them here."

  They crossed the Wandle, up to their waists in the foul slime of the riverbed, and adopted defensive positions. As they took cover, an advance party of Wendles came careering out of the main corridor and a shower of well-directed high-velocity stones rattled around the Borribles' hiding-place.

  "Man," said Orococco, "I'll go white with the shock."

  "This is no time . . ." began Knocker, and then stopped and laughed instead, and they knelt in the gloom and laid their bandoliers and lances beside them.

  Within a few seconds the open area by the landing stage had become crowded with Wendle warriors and Tron appeared in the midst of them, his face flushed with anger.

  He instantly ordered a large detachment of his men to follow the course of the Wandle in pursuit of the boat. Into the branch tunnels he dispatched smaller patrols to make sure that the fugitives were not lurking there, but the main body of his troops he directed into the short-cut so that he could block the mouth of the Wandle with a considerable force before The Silver Belle Flower could ever get there.

  "They can't get away," he shouted. "We'll have them yet, suffocating in Wandle mud."

  "Let us hold our fire till they get halfway across," whispered Knocker, "and we'll soon see who is in the mud first."

  Already the Wendles, ardent and fanatical, had plunged into the filthy water and were wading across. Tron himself was carried shoulder high by two of his personal guard.

  The three Adventurers loaded their catapults in the darkness and they waited until Knocker hissed, "All right, now!"

  Three well-aimed stones each struck their targets and three Wendles disappeared under the mud. The Adventurers fired again and again and the rate of their fire was phenomenal, but the Wendles came on in spite of their losses, for they did not lack bravery.

  "Aim for Tron," cried Orococco, "or his guards."

  Knocker shifted his aim to one of Tron's porters, and his stone struck the bodyguard solidly on his helmet and he lost his footing on the river bottom and Tron was pitched face foremost into the Wandle.

  "Swallow that! " said Knocker with relish.

  Tron was pulled to the bank by his followers and the mud was wiped from him. This victory gave the three defenders a short breathing space but Tron was not a Wendle to allow his enemy to relax for long. Wave after wave of warriors he sent into the river, and although the Adventurers fired till their arms were aching, they could not stop the warriors crossing in force and spreading out to right and left of their tunnel.

  When satisfied with h
is bridgehead Tron ordered his Wendles to attack. Fortunately only three warriors at a time could enter the short-cut and deadly work was done with knife and lance in the darkness, as Torreycanyon and Knocker and Orococco fought side by side for their lives and the lives of their companions.

  Suddenly Tron's voice was heard calling on his soldiers to cease fighting for a moment and the attackers fell back. The three Borribles leant against the wall at the tunnel entrance, exhausted and nearly done for.

  "How long has it been now?" asked Knocker. "My watch is smashed."

  "Quarter-of-an-hour," said Orococco triumphantly. "We've done it."

  Tron called again. "You Borribles in there, you might as well come out, you're surrounded. The boat has been captured, we've got the box again. You are fighting for nothing, I tell you. Save your lives."

  "Don't believe him," said Knocker. "It must be a trick, they've got clean away."

  "Keep them talking, anyway," said Orococco, "it's not so dangerous as fighting."

  "Show us the box," shouted Knocker hoarsely, "then we might believe you, Tron."

  Tron laughed. "Your friends will be here soon, in chains, then you will see the box. Surrender, cause no more trouble and we might be lenient with you. You have fought well, that is enough."

  "We would rather fight here than go back to your dungeons," shouted Knocker.

  "There'll be no dungeons for you, friend," called Tron, his voice hardening.

  "I can believe that all right," said Orococco quietly.

  At that moment a runner bounded up and spoke to Tron. The crowd of warriors fell back and the onlookers saw Flinthead himself arrive, surrounded by his guard. His face was stern and cruel and he was dressed for war.

  Flinthead took in the situation at a glance. He gave orders and his guards looked at the roof of the cavern where they stood, then they ran forward and climbed one upon the shoulders of another until the last man reached the ceiling and disappeared. A rope-ladder was thrown down to the ground and half a hundred Warriors scrambled up it and went out of sight.