Rude Awakenings

by Jonathan Eaves

least forty or fifty feet long. Feldspar was terrified and backed away hastily. Sergeant Lias, however, stood his ground whilst the eel lowered his head towards him.

  Feldspar finally found his voice. 'Sarge, get away,' he screeched.

  'Be quiet, Feldspar!' Lias snapped. 'He needs to get used to you, so keep your bloody gob shut and, whatever you do, make no sudden movements.'

  Wake's head hovered only inches away from Lias' face and, to Feldspar's horror, the sergeant casually reached out and patted the eel on the nose, as if he were merely petting a friendly family dog. 'Hello, Wake, old friend. Good to see you.'

  Feldspar couldn't have moved if he had wanted to, particularly when Wake now turned his attention to the private. He stiffened.

  'That's right, son. Like I said, no sudden movements,' Lias warned. 'He's very friendly, well, most of the time, unless of course you move suddenly.

  'And then what?' asked Feldspar, giving silent thanks that trolls were devoid of water; otherwise he'd be standing in a wet patch by now.

  'Oh, he'd probably rip your head from your shoulders,' replied Lias calmly. 'He has very strong jaws, you see. And his teeth are quite sharp also.'

  'Yes, I can see that,' the private replied, 'what with his face being about an inch away from mine and all that.'

  The elder troll merely nodded. 'Oh, and don't think any bad thoughts. It seems he can read minds, due to some sort of current running through him.'

  'What, like a spotted dick?'

  Lias sighed. He had the sudden feeling it would be too difficult to explain. 'Yeah, something like that,' he agreed. He turned back to the eel and endeavoured to make his thoughts stand out clearly in his mind.

  - We need your assistance, Wake. Will you help us, my friend? Will you allow us to ride you?

  The eel turned his attention away from Feldspar, much to the private's relief, and crooked his head to one side, as if making a decision. Then the thought entered the two trolls' minds at once; - I would be honoured.

  Wow, thought Feldspar, what a bloody polite eel.

  - Thank you.

  54

  Noxious gases rose from the slime-laden green waters lapping noisily along the gunwales of the small boat. It was only Robin's innate politeness that was preventing him from gagging. 'How long 'til we are across?' he asked Boggy, surreptitiously covering his nose and mouth with his hood.

  The boggart, proudly bearing a peaked cap with the word 'Skipper' written upon it, didn't seem to notice the awful smell. He turned towards Robin and gestured towards Little Ron, Brother Grub and Lott, who were huddled into the stern. 'The boat is quite heavily laden,' he remarked, casting a particular glance and Ron and Grub, 'so the going will be slow, I'm afraid. It'll be a few hours, at least, before we reach Sodden Edge.'

  Robin avoided staring at Boggy's cap and merely nodded. A few hours were more than they could really afford but at least it would give them chance to rest. He closed his eyes and tried to make himself more comfortable. Despite the terrible stench he soon felt himself drifting asleep, lulled by the soothing motion of the boat. But it appeared that the boggart had other ideas. He didn't often have company or an opportunity to indulge in conversation. 'So, where are you heading, then?' he asked.

  Robin merely grunted and turned over in his sleep. But Boggy wasn't to be put off that easily. 'I said, where are you lot going?' he repeated.

  'Tri Via,' Robin mumbled.

  'Really? How interesting. I've never been there myself. Never been anywhere actually. Other than from one end of this marsh to the other.'

  Robin didn't reply, hoping that his silence would discourage the boggart, but it became apparent that Boggy was just getting into his stride. 'I'd like to travel some day,' he mused. 'You know, see some of the world, whilst I'm still young enough. I've heard that Marasmus is 'The City of One Thousand Knights'! That must be a sight to see; all that armour-'

  Robin sighed. He realized that he was fighting a losing battle in trying to sleep whilst the garrulous boggart wanted to talk.

  'It's 'nights'. 'The City of One Thousands Nights', as in 'not day'. And it's only the City of One Thousand Nights if you happen to stay there-' - he did a quick calculation using his fingers - '2 years, 9 months and 15 days.'

  'Oh,' replied Boggy, disappointed. 'But the streets are paved with gold?'

  'Mostly straw and horse manure. And other unidentifiable objects which it's probably better not to think about.'

  'No gold then?'

  'Nope.'

  'But surely it is the land of opportunity?'

  'Sure,' agreed Robin. 'The opportunity to get mugged, fleeced, stabbed, drunk, and arrested. But if you mean is it the place to make your fortune then you'd better turn again, right back where you came from.'

  The boggart looked disheartened and Robin felt a pang of sympathy for him. 'Listen,' he said, 'there are some good things about Marasmus.'

  'Really?'

  'Of course.'

  'Such as?' the boggart asked.

  'Um... well there's... you know... there's the-'

  'Yes?'

  'Well... there's the sense of community. For instance, everybody knows their neighbour's name.'

  'Yeah,' came a voice from the back of the boat. 'They need that to draw up the lawsuit over hedges which cut out the light-'

  'Quiet, Grub,' Robin hissed. 'Ignore him, Boggy. Everybody knows everybody else. And everybody's willing to pitch in. Kids play in the streets and housewives gossip over the back fence whilst hanging the washing out. Times may be hard, but everybody's got pride and they keep their doorsteps scrupulously clean.'

  'And how would you bloody well know?' Grub protested. 'You lived on a bloody great country estate? Where I lived there were more feuds between households than there were hot meals - but that wasn't hard 'cos we'd be bloody lucky to get a hot meal-'

  'And there's some great architecture,' Robin interjected, swiftly interrupting the Brother's complaining flow.

  'I think I'd like to see Marasmus for myself, one day,' Boggy mused. 'To make up my own mind.'

  He fell silent for a moment, but couldn't keep it up for long. 'So, what's Tri Via like?' he asked.

  'I'm told it's where the sky meets the land and water,' answered Robin. 'It's dark, damp and misty, I believe, but I've never been there.'

  'I've heard that there's an Oracle at Tri Via,' Boggy went on.

  'That's right.'

  'Is that why you are going there?'

  'Uh-huh.'

  'And the trolls don't want you to?'

  Robin stared at the boggart. 'What makes you say that?'

  'You said that you were being chased by trolls. I just assumed-'

  'It's not important,' replied Robin sternly. 'Just concentrate on getting us through this damn marsh. We'll deal with the trolls if we have to.'

  Boggy nodded. 'Well, you don't need to worry about trolls for the next few hours. Like I said, they tend to sink.' But then a thought occurred. 'Unless they-'

  'Unless they what?'

  55

  Feldspar had expected Wake's skin to be slimy and slick, but in fact, when dry, it felt like very fine sandpaper. The eel swam by rippling its body from side to side, creating a sine wave along its length, which induced a strange motion sickness in the private; it was like sea-sickness but at 90 degrees. But the speed! The thing must have been making 30 nots.[26] If there was a boggart out there then there was simply no way it could outrun... outsail... outswim... get away from them.

  - Do you know of a boggart in these marshes, Lias thought to the eel.

  - There is one such creature, Wake confirmed. I know it well for we have... clashed on occasion. It lives close to where we met.

  -Then we must turn around. You see, old friend, it's the boggart I'm after.

  - I know. You have had little else upon your mind since we met.

  - Then why didn't you say? We must turn around at once.

  - Do not worry. It is the boggart we are now seeking. He and his companio
ns.

  - Companions?

  - Indeed. Several humans and another creature I have never before encountered. For some reason the creature troubles me deeply.

  Sergeant Lias considered this news. Could these humans be the outlaws Grantt was seeking? Very possibly, he thought. Even probable. He fought to suppress a surge of triumph but he couldn't help but be thankful for such good fortune - the opportunity to capture the fugitives and bag a boggart to boot. He turned his attention back to Wake.

  - Why does this creature trouble you? the sergeant asked.

  - She is strange. She can read minds.

  - What is so strange about that? You yourself can read minds.

  - But I read the minds of the living. This creature reads the minds of the dead.

  56

  Annabel, it was true, was not a mind-reader; she could not read the minds of men. Yes, she had the gift of the medium, and yes, she could communicate with Dr Dosodall, but that was by virtue of his gift, not hers. Being a medium was a little bit like being an organic radio insofar as she could pick up different frequencies, should they be strong enough. The dearly departed souls tended to come through strongly, as if on FM, but occasionally she could twiddle her knob, so to speak, and pick up Long Wave. And right now, something was coming through, thin and crackly. Had such a thing existed in Marasmus she would have thought it sounded like one side of a telephone conversation - There is one such creature. I know it well for we have clashed on occasion. It lives close to where we met - I know, you have had little else upon your mind since we met - Do not worry. It is the boggart we are now seeking. He and his companions - Indeed. Several humans and another creature I have never before encountered. For some reason the creature troubles me deeply - She is strange. She can read minds - But I read the minds of the living. This creature reads the minds of the dead...

  It seemed likely to Annabel that whoever (or whatever) it was whose voice she was hearing, it was speaking of the boggart... and of her. She turned to the doctor to explain.

  Dosodall, perched precariously upon the pachyderm's back, listened carefully. 'Is this thing close?' he asked, once Annabel had finished her explanation.

  'It must be, I think, for me to be able to hear it.'

  'Unless it's dead?'

  'Whatever this thing may be, it's alive.'

  'Okay, swim over to the boat. We need to warn Robin.'

  57

  Robin concentrated upon what the doctor had to say. He asked no questions, for by now, with regards to her clairaudience, he trusted Annabel implicitly. Instead he turned to Boggy, causing the boat to shift slightly. 'This creature seems to know you. It says it's clashed with you before. Do you have any idea of what this creature may be?' he asked.

  Boggy nodded shyly. 'Um, I fear it may be Wake.'

  'And who exactly is Wake?'

  'An old foe,' the boggart answered simply, removing his cap. 'He thinks himself master of these marshes. I, er, don't agree.'

  'Is he another boggart?'

  Boggy shook his head, causing a shower of pond scum to coat the listening Merrie Men. 'No,' he continued, oblivious to the soaking he had just dispensed. 'He's far more dangerous than that. Wake is a giant eel, and he is more hateful then any other creature in these marshes.'

  'Great!' exclaimed Robin, wiping himself down, 'Just bloody great. We pick the one swamp guide who happens to have a detestable, terrifying, bloody huge great eel as an enemy!'

  'Actually I'm the only swamp guide,' Boggy pointed out.

  'Hardly the damn point, right now,' retorted Robin.

  'He will be after me, not you,' Boggy replied quietly. 'If I leave you, you will be safe.'

  'Er, Annabel thinks otherwise,' Dr Dosodall interjected. 'The eel was obviously talking to someone else who, she thinks, seemed to take an extra interest when it was mentioned that Boggy here had companions.'

  'Trolls?' asked Robin.

  'There's no way of telling. But we should probably presume that that is the case,' replied the Doctor.

  'We need to know what we're up against,' Robin reasoned. He suddenly wished that the dwarf, Anyx, were here to advise him. When he