bothered to contemplate the matter Robin reckoned himself to be a good leader of men, and he had proved his courage and bravery time and time again, but thinking was definitely not his strong point; on this point he would be the first to agree. It wasn't that he was stupid, it was just that he preferred doing to thinking whereas the dwarf, he suspected, was exactly the opposite. Still, the dwarf was not here, so it was up to him to come up with a plan.
There was a thoughtful silence for a minute or two, before Robin looked up at Annabel. He turned to the doctor. 'How far apart can you two be and still communicate?' he asked.
'I'm not sure; a mile maybe. Further on a clear day, less when there's a storm brewing,' the doctor replied.
Robin looked up at the sky. There wasn't a cloud to be seen. 'Okay,' he said. 'Here's what we're going to do.'
58
Robin had been afraid of giving Annabel offence, but the medium had immediately seen the sense of it. After all, it was she who had warned Robin that if she could hear the eel, well then the eel could most likely hear her. Could the eel hear them all? Robin had asked. Only when the distance between them was quite small, she thought. She'd tried to explain about the stronger frequencies given off by mediums but it had seemed to have gone over Robin's head. Anyway, the outcome of it all was that Annabel was to wait here, where she was - 'no don't think about exactly where you are, you're merely somewhere in the middle of the swamp,' Robin had instructed - and when the eel comes past let the doctor know. She didn't need to know anything else.
59
- They know we're following. They have instructed the strange creature to remain behind.
- To what purpose? Lias queried the eel's warning.
- I do not know. But stay vigilant. We no longer have the element of surprise.
60
As Annabel watched her companions leave she was trying to think of anything but her location. She tried to think about frequencies. She had thought about it before and was coming to a conclusion that being able to speak to the departed, or being able to read minds, was all about frequencies and it was just that the dead and alive used different frequencies. As the boat began to drift out of view she raised her trunk in a half-hearted gesture of farewell. You could have called it a medium wave.
61
Wake, Lias and Feldspar came on quickly.
Annabel slowly sunk deeper into the marsh, until she was almost completely submerged, leaving only the prehensile tip of her trunk showing above the green, foetid waters, allowing her to breathe but rendering her practically invisible. And she would be able to smell them coming.
Minutes passed, then the smell hit Annabel like a troll's club. She silently cursed her hugely efficient olfactory organ. If she had thought Boggy smelt bad than this was in a different league. The stench was like a fish market at the end of a very long, hot day. It almost overpowered her, but then it flew away almost immediately. She raised her eyes above the waterline, her long lashes draped with pondweed. Through a dripping curtain of slime she could just make out the agitated wake of an enormous water creature and, if her poor eyesight wasn't deceiving her, the shape of a couple of figures perched upon its back.
She concentrated hard. 'It's just gone past, very fast, with two figures riding upon it.'
Dr Dosodall's voice appeared in her head immediately. 'Trolls?'
'I think so, but I can't be sure. They were gone before I could properly make them out. But, doctor, be warned, they're travelling very quickly; they will be upon you before you know it.'
62
- We are close. We have passed the strange creature but I will deal with it once I have dealt with the boggart. But beware now, the others will be close and they know we are coming. They may prepare an ambush.
'Okay,' Lias replied. He turned to Feldspar behind him. 'Be vigilant now, Private. If the boggart's companions are indeed the fugitives we're seeking then they're going to be more than a little anxious not to be caught, and therefore very dangerous. They may just try to waylay us, son, so keep your eyes peeled.'
'Righto, Sarge,' Feldspar replied quietly. Trolls don't have blood and therefore can neither blush nor blench, but the private had definitely gone a shade or two paler. What had merely been a bit of a lark was now turning serious, but the private was determined not to show any fear. And, as apprehensive as he was, he was also more than a little confused...
Lias, on the other hand, felt nothing but excitement. He had no thoughts about capturing the boggart now, he'd leave that particular creature to Wake. No, all of his efforts would now be put to capturing these Merrie Men fools.
63
Robin lay still upon a small islet in the marsh, all but invisible behind a curtain of reeds. Carefully he nocked his arrow and took aim. A few yards in front of him Ron and Lott were crouched neck deep in the swamp, the latter's hat rather conspicuously visible, Robin now realised with dismay. Oh well, he thought, too late to do anything about it now...
To his right, in full view, Boggy was seated in his coracle, his skipper's cap also conspicuous, although, this time, purposely. The boggart had volunteered to be the bait, and Robin, impressed by the swamp creature's obvious bravery, had eventually agreed.
Robin ran the plan through his head one more time. Of course trolls were impervious to arrows but it wasn't the trolls that Robin was aiming at. Across a narrow channel in the now flooded swamp there stood the remains of a long dead oak tree, rotted, skeletal and forbidding and covered in moss and lichen. At the old tree's base there was a white flash, a huge fresh scar where an axe had recently been taken to it. The trunk had been cut almost completely through and only a huge wedge in the gash prevented the tree from toppling over. He took one last glance at the boggart before taking aim at a point halfway up the trunk. He took a deep breath and fired. The arrow flew away and, a split second later, thudded into the dead wood, burying itself deep. The thin rope that had been tied around the arrow's shaft fell gently into the marsh. At a signal from Robin Ron waded forward to retrieve the end of the rope. The giant tugged on it to check the arrow was securely embedded in the tree and then nodded to Robin. Robin acknowledged him. Okay, here we go, the outlaw leader thought, and made a sign which consisted of him waving his right hand like a royal and miming a song. And everyone started to sing... inside their heads.
64
- We're close, Wake warned, but...
- But what? Sergeant Lias asked, picking up the wariness in the great eel's thoughts.
- I... I can't tell what they're thinking...
- Why?
- They all seem to be singing.
- Singing! Singing what?
- I can't make it out. It just seems to be nonsense. One of them seems to be singing about...something like... 'riding through the glen... with his band of-'
Suddenly Wake noticed Boggy, sitting quite still in his small boat, a perfect target. At the sight the eel seemed to stiffen.
The sergeant hadn't yet noticed the boggart's presence.
'Wake! What is it?' In his excitement he realised he had actually physically cried out.
It didn't matter to the eel; he still heard the words in his mind.
- I see the boggart, was his simple reply. - Be ready.
And, throwing caution to the wind, the eel powered forward towards Boggy's boat.
'Now!' Robin shouted, as the eel surged into view, a foaming green wake trailing. Ron and Lott immediately yanked on the rope and, at exactly the same time, the doctor appeared from behind the tree and hammered the wedge out of the trunk. The came a huge arboreal groan as the tree started to topple forward.
65
Out of the corner of his eye Sergeant Lias saw the dead oak falling towards them. 'Wake!' he screamed in warning, but there was no way the eel could stop, he was simply travelling too fast; his only option was to accelerate. Wake urged himself forward, trying to squeeze out an extra not or two, but the tree was toppling inexorably towards them. The trolls, all too aware of their predicament had to ma
ke a quick decision - should they hang on, or dive into the swamp. At the very last moment Wake dipped his head and made a dive. Lias hung on, but Feldspar slipped from the eel's back. The felled tree struck Lias directly upon his head, instantly cleaving his rocky skull in two, and forcing his heavy body into the eel's spine, causing it to snap with a horrific crack. Blood poured from the massive wound and the eel thrashed madly at the pain, stirring up the waters and creating a fountain of pink algae-filled spray; but then his agony found a focus in the boggart now standing in the boat before him. Rage anaesthetized the eel's pain, and he surged forward smashing into the boggart's boat, reducing it to a shower of splinters instantaneously. Boggy flew high into the air, his body limp, before disappearing under the surface of the swamp.
66
Elsewhere Private Feldspar had started to sink and he felt himself being sucked relentlessly into the foetid mud below the foul waters. He knew without doubt that this was the end but then, unexpectedly, he found himself clutched within the massive paws of Little Ron. Ron pulled the troll onto the islet behind him in a feat of awesome strength. 'Stay there,' the giant growled, and turned to look for Boggy.
The eel's body was thrashing the water into foam, but whether from his death throes, or from savaging the boggart, it was tormentingly unclear to the horrified watchers. Blood continued to turn the spume into a noxious strawberry milkshake, then, all of a sudden, the eel's body stilled, and slowly sank into the pink waters. Of the boggart there was no sign.
67
Despite a frantic search the valiant swamp creature's body could not be found.
Robin stood staring out over the marsh in a vain hope that the boggart may reappear, somehow unharmed. But finally he had to give in to the realisation that Boggy was, in all likelihood, dead. He turned his sad face to his companions. 'He gave his life for us,' he said softly. There was a gentle murmur of agreement. For some reason they had all grown fond of their gregarious and caring guide in the short time they had known him.
'He was a boggart amongst boggarts,' Little Ron agreed, wiping away a tear. 'I'll always remember his last words,' he continued.
'Which were?' asked Grub, laying a tender hand upon the giant's shoulder.
'He said, there's an inn at Sodden Edge,' Ron sniffed. 'Whatever you do, don't eat the sausages.'
'Bloody hell, Ron. Show some respect,' Robin admonished. Shaking his head, he turned his attention to the captured troll.
'How many more trolls were with you?'
'None,' Feldspar replied sullenly. He had by now had time to think and had realised that the whole secret mission story that Lias had fed him had been nonsense and that, for whatever reason, capturing the boggart had been the sergeant's idea. They should have been after the outlaws all along. Not that it mattered now. 'It was just me and the Sarge,' he continued. 'The Captain thought that it wasn't very likely you'd come this way so he just sent the two of us.' He gave a shrug. 'Sarge thought it was a bloody wild goose chase.'
Robin considered this. 'Alright, Ron,' he said after a second or two, 'let him go.'
'What?'
'Let him go.'
'Why?'
'Well, we need to get moving and keeping him prisoner will simply slow us down. And anyway, he's not going to get very far, is he? Like Boggy said, here in the swamps trolls have the unfortunate tendency to sink.'
68
The sign above the door declared the building to be the Trek-lodge, Marasmus West, despite the fact that they were patently in Sodden Edge.
Robin, who, like the rest of the group, was drained and dispirited by the journey through the swamps, and dejected by the boggart's death, turned wearily to Ron. 'Is this the inn that Boggy talked about, do you think?' he asked.
Ron gave an apathetic shrug. Even his
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