by Allan Jones
As he passed along the corridor, the patter of two dozen following feet drowned out his voice. Blinking, Trundle watched them trail off into the distance. A few moments more, and the corridor was empty and quiet again.
Trundle stepped out of hiding as Esmeralda and Jack came back down the stairs.
“Did you hear him?” asked Trundle, wide-eyed. “I didn’t understand a word he was saying! He must be such a brainbox!”
Esmeralda raised an eyebrow. “That’s what they’d like everyone to think,” she said. “If you ask me, all that science talk is a lot of blather and waffle.”
Jack looked thoughtful. “If we were dressed up in brown robes like those chaps following the badger, we’d be able to get around here without making people suspicious,” he said.
“Good thinking,” said Esmeralda. “Let’s keep our eyes peeled for a cloakroom or a store cupboard.”
Luck was with them. They had only gone down two flights of stairs and along three corridors before they spotted a pair of squirrels pushing a trolley filled with crumpled brown habits.
“Laundry basket!” whispered Esmeralda, following at a safe distance.
The trolley was pushed into a deserted washing room, and the two squirrels scuttled off. A few minutes later, the three companions were wrapped up in the cleanest of the brown habits from the laundry. Thus disguised, they found that they were able to walk quite freely through the halls and corridors without anyone paying them any attention.
There were plenty of people about—scores of small animals in brown habits swarmed around the hallways, sometimes bearing armfuls of books and scrolls, sometimes hauling trolleys along behind them, the wheels creaking under the weight of musty old books.
Every now and then they would pass a room with an open door. Trundle found these rooms fascinating. Some were like classrooms, every desk occupied by badgers paying earnest attention to teachers who scribbled complex equations on big blackboards. Other rooms were filled with strange machinery that whirred and chimed and clicked and spun while badgers moved around taking notes or making adjustments or rubbing their wise chins and looking thoughtful.
There were signs at every turn and junction in the maze of corridors, pointing to the Orrery Chamber, or the Torquetum or the Astrarium or the Gymbelorium. And many of the doors had brass plates attached, such as PROFESSOR ERASMUS QUIVERWHISKER: ADVANCED THEORIES IN CIRCULAR DIMINISHMENT or DR. JERVAYS HARDCLAW: PONDEROLOGY AND IMPONDEROLOGY.
Slowly they wound their way down and down until they came upon a sign that read ENTRANCE LOBBY, VISITORS’ WAITING ROOM, OUTER BAILEY, GUARDHOUSE, MAIN GATE, AND EXIT.
“What if the guard recognizes us?” Trundle asked as they walked across the cobbled courtyard toward the great wooden gates and the small stone guardhouse that stood to one side.
“So long as we keep our hoods up, he won’t see our faces,” Esmeralda said. She looked from Jack to Trundle. “Now, remember—we’ve been sent by Doctor Hardclaw to collect the crown and the key so they can be studied.”
“Got it,” said Jack, only his nose visible under the hood.
“Check,” added Trundle, pulling his hood deeper over his face.
The guardhouse door was wide open, revealing a small chamber with a desk and a chair and with various racks and notice boards attached to the walls. The guard was leaning back on two legs of the chair, his feet up on the desk and his nose in a newspaper.
Esmeralda rapped on the door. “Excuse me!” she said in an authoritative voice. “We’re here to collect the crown and the key.”
The guard turned his head and eyed her without interest. All the same, Trundle pulled his hood a little farther forward as the three of them stepped into the room.
“Izzat so?” said the guard. “Oo wants ’em?”
“Doctor Hardclaw,” said Esmeralda. “He needs them urgently, so be a good fellow and hand them over.”
The guard leaned down behind his desk and pulled out the crown and the key. Trundle could hardly believe how smoothly things were going. Their plan was really going to work!
Esmeralda took the two precious objects from the guard’s big, clumsy paws.
“Thank you,” she said. “Sorry to disturb you.”
The guard snorted and picked up his newspaper.
Esmeralda turned and headed for the doorway. Trundle did likewise, with Jack close behind. But just as they were about to exit, Trundle felt something come down hard on the hem of his robes, bringing him to a jerking halt and yanking the hood back off his head.
“Oops, sorry,” said Jack. “Excuse my big feet!”
The guard turned and peered at Trundle’s suddenly revealed face.
“Here! I know you!” he growled. “You’re the bloke wot woz outside not two hours since! How’d you get in?” He lurched forward. “Gimme them things back! You ain’t from Doc Hardclaw at all, I’ll warrant. You’re interlopers and trespassers.”
So saying, he leaped up, and with one hand he slammed the door shut in Esmeralda’s face, while with the other he reached for his halberd.
Reacting in an instant, Esmeralda spun around and kicked the guard’s shins.
“Yowp!” howled the guard, almost dropping his halberd.
A moment later, Jack jumped up onto the desk, swiping up anything he could lay paws on and flinging it at the guard’s head. And while all this was going on, Trundle was struggling to get his sword out from under his habit.
“Take that!” howled Esmeralda, swinging the crown in both hands and bringing it into sharp contact with the guard’s midriff.
“Oof!” gasped the guard, doubling over as Jack brought a tin mug down on his head.
But the guard wasn’t so easily dealt with. He swiped a long swipe with the halberd. The sharp edge only missed Jack by a hairs breadth as he leaped for his life off the desk. The other end of the halberd caught Esmeralda behind the ear and sent her sprawling, the crown and key skittering across the floor, between the guard’s legs and out of sight under the desk.
“Now I gotcha!” snarled the guard, his teeth bared as he stooped over the sprawling Esmeralda. “Mincemeat, you’re gonna be!”
At that moment, Trundle finally got his sword free. Without pausing to think, he leaped between the guard and Esmeralda, determined to protect her. He held his sword out in both hands as the guard loomed over him. The look on the guard’s face was so ferocious that he backed away, the sword quivering in his grip.
At that moment he was aware of a large brown shape leaping through the air. It was Jack. With a skirling cry, he launched himself onto the guard’s back. The guard tottered forward, trying vainly to pull Jack off his neck.
In all honesty, Trundle could not really have explained in detail what happened next. One moment he was waving his sword in the air, and the next moment, the guard came plunging toward him like a felled tree.
There was a dull bonk! as the flat edge of the sword whacked the guard a good one on the side of the head. And then, quite suddenly, Trundle was flat on his back and covered all over in heavy, limp guard.
“Gurrg,” he gasped, the breath quite beaten out of him. “Get him off!”
Esmeralda and Jack dragged the unconscious guard off, and Trundle sat up, spluttering and befuddled. “What happened?” he gasped, gazing anxiously at Jack. “Did I kill him?”
“Hardly!” said Jack. “But you did manage to knock him out.”
“But for how long?” wondered Esmeralda, peering into the guard’s face. “I think we should tie him up—just to be on the safe side.” She turned, her eyes shining. “Well done, my brave and dashing Trundle! I never thought you had it in you.”
Trundle got dizzily to his feet. “I didn’t … it wasn’t…” He looked at the guard, a feeling of pride growing in him. “Serves him right!” he declared. “What can we tie him up with?”
“With his own trousers, what else!” laughed Jack, already loosening the limp guard’s belt. “Come on, you two—help a chap out!”
I
n next to no time they had whipped off the guard’s pants, leaving him in rather grubby knee-length underwear with frayed ends and burst seams. He was tossed unceremoniously onto his front, and the legs of his trousers were looped around and around his wrists and knotted tightly.
Esmeralda then peeled off his long socks and tied one expertly around his ankles. Finally, she lifted his head and stuffed the other sock into his mouth. “In case he wakes up and feels like shouting for help,” she remarked heartlessly.
Trundle’s forehead wrinkled. “All the same,” he said. “Putting stinky socks in a person’s mouth is a bit much, don’t you think?”
Esmeralda eyed him. “He was going to chop us into tiny pieces, Trundle,” she said, patting him on the back. “I think a mouthful of old sock is the least he deserves!”
Trundle picked up his sword from the floor. It felt different in his paw now—it felt suddenly very serious and important and … fateful. It had knocked out the guard and probably saved them all.
“He was going to kill us, wasn’t he?” Trundle said, slipping the sword into his belt. “And I stopped him!”
“He certainly was, and you certainly did,” replied Esmeralda, crawling under the desk to retrieve the crown and the key.
“You’re a hero, Trundle!” said Jack.
“And now let’s get out of here before someone finds us,” said Esmeralda, tucking crown and key in among the folds of her robes.
They departed, and for the first time, Trundle felt as though he really was meant to have the sword!
There was a key in the lock on the inside of the guardhouse door. Esmeralda took it out as they left and locked the door behind them. She lifted a cobblestone and placed the key under it while Jack and Trundle kept anxious watch.
“That should give us some time before he’s found,” Esmeralda said, stamping the cobblestone down again.
They made their way back across the courtyard and through an arched doorway into a wide oak-paneled vestibule, hung with the ancient banners of the guilds. A huge notice board displayed the names of every department and division and doctorate and seminary, set alongside a marquetry map of where everything could be found.
“Doctor Augustus Brockwise,” Esmeralda read. “Tower of the Brazen Finials, fifth floor, room 1720.”
Jack perused the map. “Got it!” he said, pointing. “We’re in luck. This is the Tower of the Brazen Wotsits, and by the looks of it, the quickest way to Brockwise’s lair is up those stairs over there.” He pointed over to an elaborate staircase at the far end of the vestibule.
“Excellent,” said Esmeralda. “And remember, we’re just three ordinary workers going about our everyday business, so try to look like we belong here.”
They encountered any number of magisterial badgers and scuttling minions on the way, but no one took any notice of them, and they eventually found themselves outside a large and magnificent oak door. A brass plaque confirmed they had reached their target.
OFFICE OF THE HIGHMOST
CHANCELLOR, PLENIPOTENTIARY,
BAGERIUS MAXIMUS BONCIUS,
DOCTOR AUGUSTUS BROCKWISE
And below, a smaller notice was pinned to the panels:
Do Not Disturb
Esmeralda stepped up to the door and rapped sharply on it.
They waited for a reply.
“Maybe he’s gone out?” suggested Trundle.
Esmeralda knocked again and turned the large brass handle. The door opened with a long-drawn creak of protest.
“Hello?” she called, poking her head around the door. “Anyone—oh!” She pushed the door wider, revealing to Trundle’s and Jack’s eyes a room as long and as lofty as a cathedral. A purple carpet ran the length of the floor, and at the far end—about three hundred feet away—they could just make out a big, dark desk in front of a tall black chair in which someone was seated.
Even more remarkable to the friends than the size of the room were the extraordinary apparatuses and machines and devices and contraptions that lined the walls. They walked along the carpet in subdued awe, the brass and copper and steel and glass mechanisms towering above them; some with swinging pendulums, other with flickering dials or with whirring flywheels and ticking cogs and revolving escapements like the workings of great watches or clocks.
As they approached the desk, they became aware of a new sound—a grumbling, grating noise like distant thunder mixed up with someone sawing wood.
“He’s asleep!” exclaimed Jack.
He was right. Slumped backward in the big black leather chair behind the desk, a portly badger snored away with his face hidden beneath a red silk handkerchief. The handkerchief fluttered and flopped with his breathing.
Apart from a blotter and an inkwell and a pen in its stand, the huge polished desk was entirely clear.
The three friends walked around the desk and stared at the slumbering Highmost Chancellor. He was wrapped in black robes, and there were carpet slippers on his feet, with red pom-poms on the toes.
“What should we do?” whispered Trundle, remembering the sign on the door and not wishing to ignore its instructions.
“Disturb him!” declared Esmeralda. She tugged at the badger’s sleeve. “Hey! Excuse me!” she shouted into his hairy ear. “Wake up, please.”
The badger spluttered and puffed as Esmeralda pulled off the handkerchief, revealing a wrinkled old face topped off with a pair of gold rimmed pince-nez spectacles, set slightly awry on the grizzled muzzle.
“Upon my word!” gasped the Highmost Chancellor, struggling to sit up and free his arms from the windings of his robes. “What effrontery is this?” He straightened his pince-nez and peered down at the three friends with a gimlet eye and a wrathful brow.
“Hello there,” Jack said, beaming at the elderly chancellor. “Sorry we woke you up, and all.”
The badger stared at them. “How dare you disturb me!” he blustered. “What effrontery! What unparalleled temerity! What unprecedented audacity—to accost your chancellor in this manner!”
“Calm down,” said Esmeralda. “We only want to talk to you.”
“It’s worth it, honestly it is,” added Trundle in a placatory voice. “We’ve got some things to show you.”
“Recognize these?” Esmeralda asked, brandishing the crown and the key under the Highmost Chancellor’s nose.
“Remove those gewgaws from my sight!” demanded the Highmost Chancellor. “Leave this room at once or I shall summon the guards!”
“Keep your wig on,” said Esmeralda. “Don’t you know what this is?” She flaunted the crown in front of his eyes. “It’s the Crystal Crown of the Badger Lords of Old, that’s what it is!”
The badger goggled at the glittering crown for a moment or two. “Preposterous!” he said. “Ridiculous!” he added. “Outrageous and ludicrous!” he concluded.
“But it is,” said Jack. “Honestly, it is.”
“You insensate and absurd creatures,” boomed the old badger. “It’s a scientifically proven fact that the Six Crowns of the Badger Lords do not exist!” He reached for a bell pull and gave it a series of fierce tugs. “I have summoned the guards,” he told them. “Leave my office this instant, or I will have you forcibly removed!”
“But it’s the Crystal Crown!” raged Esmeralda, almost dancing with frustration. “We found it in the mines of Drune! And this key was with it.”
“It’s true,” said Trundle. “The magical Badger Blocks led us to it.”
“Magic!” hooted the Highmost Chancellor, rising from his chair, his eyes flashing angrily. “You are Roamany scoundrels and magicians!” He groped by his chair and brought out a black lacquered walking cane. “I’ll harbor no conjurers and sorcerers here!” he roared, swiping at them with the cane. “Be gone, I say!”
Trundle and Esmeralda and Jack hopped backward around the desk to avoid the lashing cane. The badger followed them, and they retreated down the long carpet with him lumbering in hot and furious pursuit, his cane rising and falling,
his face red with wrath and his black robes billowing.
“You silly old fool!” yelled Esmeralda. “Stop that for a second and let us explain!”
“I don’t think he’s going to listen,” said Jack, ducking as a particularly close swipe whistled above his ears.
“Outrageous!” bellowed the Highmost Chancellor, chasing them with surprising speed as they raced for the door. “Roamanys in my office! Monstrous, I say! Disgraceful! Scandalous!”
They came tumbling out into the corridor with the enraged old badger hot on their heels. But his wind was all but used up by now; he leaned heavily on the door frame, swiping feebly at them, gasping and panting and mopping his face with the handkerchief.
“Are you quite done trying to bash us?” said Esmeralda, glaring up at him. “Because if you are, I’d like to get a few words in edgewise!”
The rumble of many running feet sounded from around a bend in the corridor.
“The guards!” gasped Jack.
“We have to go!” said Trundle, grabbing Esmeralda’s arm.
“I’ll be back!” she shouted at the Highmost Chancellor as Jack and Trundle dragged her away. “Don’t you worry—I’m not done with you yet!”
At a junction in the corridor, they risked a quick look back. A posse of six or seven uniformed foxes was thundering toward them, all of them wielding halberds.
“Lawks!” said Jack. “We need to hide before that lot gets us!”
“Hide where?” groaned Trundle.
“In here!” said an unfamiliar voice at their backs. Around the corner and out of sight of the approaching guards, a door was being held open for them. “Quickly, quickly,” said the urgent but friendly voice. “Get under cover before they spot you.”
Without further ado, the three friends bundled in through the open doorway, to find themselves in a large office lined with heavy wooden shelves packed solid with scrolls and tomes and documents and folders. The door snapped shut behind them.
A hedgehog in sky blue robes put his finger to his lips. “Shhh!” he said, turning a key in the lock. He pressed his ear against the door, smiling as he listened to the percussion of passing feet.