The Second Wave (The Dorset Squirrels) Read online

  Rusty told him about the Sin-day and the awful night and day that had followed it. She insisted on returning to Crag.

  Tamarisk accompanied her, unable to face Tansy’s scorn if she learned that he was too much of a squaker to see Chip’s mother safely back to the Temple Tree, if that was her wish.

  Together they passed unnoticed through a gap in the ring of Greys, now in groups, searching every patch of woodland and scrub, and through the deserted Demesne of the Blue Pool towards the Temple Tree. A storm was brewing and the silence was oppressive and unearthly. Thunder rumbled in the distance and Rusty looked around apprehensively.

  The foraging party to the village had been successful. Most of the Man-dreys has had platforms on the grass areas behind them, laden with food which birds were eating. Jackdaws from the castle took first choice, landing and flying away with large pieces of bread. Then the starlings bustled and jostled each other over what was left. Blue tits and other small birds fed from containers of nut kernels and pecked at the flesh of some kind of huge nut, one half of which hung down from a branch near an opening in the side of one of the Man-dreys

  The squirrels moved in and drove the birds away, having no qualms about taking the food, which humans had clearly put out for other creatures’ sustenance. Even if it was not wholly intended for them, they had hungry youngsters waiting up in the castle, and in such circumstances almost anything is ‘acceptable behaviour.’

  With hungry youngsters

  Actions can be permitted

  Otherwise taboo.

  The party fed themselves, then returned to the castle cave, each squirrel carrying in its mouth the largest piece of the food that it could.

  Spindle and Wood Anemone worked harder than the rest, carrying the most awkward pieces and laying these down to assist others before returning for their own loads. Their actions did not seem unusual to the other squirrels, who had often witnessed such unselfish behaviour from the two ex-zervantz. The two, though, were carrying an additional burden that felt like a stone, heavy in their gut; they thought that they were the ones who, through their indiscretion in revealing the whereabouts of the food reserves, had been responsible for the Reds having to leave the pool. Neither could speak of their shame.

  Late in the afternoon Chip suggested that he climb to the highest stone of the stone towers to look out and report. He was secretly rather looking forward to climbing rock again, anticipating the thrill of seeking each tiny hold in the apparently smooth surface and using these to climb up to a place where no other squirrel would dare go.

  Alder, hearing the plan, insisted that Chip was not to go alone and Rowan volunteered to go with him if Chip would teach him to climb on rock.

  He proved an apt pupil. Utterly fearless, he soon mastered the fundamental concept of three paws holding whilst the other was moved to a new hold, and together the pair climbed the great column of stone that is all that remains of the Queen’s Tower of Corfe Castle.

  They could hear the distant rumble of thunder hat had disturbed Rusty away across the Great Heath. Rowan cautioned his young friend that if a storm came near, they would have to descend swiftly to avoid the danger of a lightning strike in so high a place.

  Chip pointed out that the clouds were massing over the Blue Pool area and they would have sufficient time to get down safely if the storm did come in their direction. They searched the vast landscape spread out below them as far as they could see for any sign of grey squirrels, but saw none and were just about to descend when lightning slashed out of the distant cloud to strike somewhere in the wood near the Blue Pool. It struck again and yet again, unaccompanied by the usual rain and, as they watched, a spiral of smoke rose out of the trees where they had seen the flashes strike.

  They climbed down in the gathering dusk, neither saying a word to the other yet each sure that the Temple Master would trouble them no more.

  Tamarisk and Rusty had reached the Temple Tree as the storm clouds gathered and thunder rumbled over their heads, but Tamarisk had restrained Rusty’s desire to go straight to Crag and ask forgiveness. He persuaded her to climb with him up the signalling tree across the glade first.

  Rusty had clung to the branch and called, ‘Temple Master Crag, it is I, Rusty. I have come back to repent for my sins. I fear the Sunless Pit.’

  Crag’s head appeared at the opening near the top of the trunk and he looked about.

  Rusty called again, ‘It is I, Rusty, come to repent.’ She shook the pine needles to show him where she was and he climbed higher into the dead upper branches of the oak in order to see her better.

  ‘You are a Squarry,’ he replied brusquely. ‘A Squarry cannot repent. You will die – and that will be an example to all squirrels. It will show that the Sun’s will must be done. It is the Sunless Pit for you. When the Grey Ones catch you, you will die. Get out of my sight. I cannot bear to look on such an unworthy squirrel,’

  A shaft of light from the setting Sun shone almost horizontally from under the storm cloud, lighting up the red-brown fur of the Temple Master as he gesticulated wildly.

  It was then that the first of the three flashes of lightning struck the tree.

  Tamarisk and Rusty, nearly blinded by the intense light, edged backwards along the branch, dropped to the ground and scampered away towards the Blue Pool, followed by the scent of burning wood as the old tree flared orange and red behind them in the dusk. Tamarisk was sure that he could smell seared flesh and singed hair, but said nothing of this to Rusty.

  They slept together in Tamarisk’s drey near the pool, warm in the mossy lining, as the storm finally broke and rain cascaded down, rattling on the dead leaves. In the dripping dawn they returned to view the Temple Tree, watchful for any Greys. They saw none, but the Temple Tree itself had burned away, leaving nothing but a towering mass of fused metal that could, in the poor light, be mistaken for the form of a gigantic squirrel. They hurried away, the smell of damp wood-ash and scorched metal following them along the track.

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  The cave in the ivy, high on the southern wall of the castle, was proving to be a comfortable communal hiding place for the squirrels from the Blue Pool. Each day a foraging party would raid the village bird-tables and return carrying sufficient food for the youngsters and whichever squirrels had been left on guard.

  On the first day in the cave Tansy was her usual restless self, asking Marguerite how soon it would be before they could move on, with the Woodstock, towards Ourland. Marguerite pointed out that they needed to feed up first; many of the squirrels were thin and not fit for further winter journeying.

  There had been no sign of Greys, and, although Tansy was missing Tamarisk more than she would admit, she was busy with instructing her Chipling in the ways of Mainland squirrels.

  Marguerite fulfilled her role as Tagger and teacher, ensuring that all the young ones knew the ancient Kernels of Truth.

  Ignorant squirrels

  Not knowing all their Kernels

  Will act foolishly.

  Spindle and Wood Anemone were, unbeknown to each other, watching for a chance to speak to Marguerite. They respected and loved her dearly, but dreaded that a confession would result in a down-tag. Spindle the Helpful imagined being retagged the Indiscreet or perhaps even the Traitor! He could not bear the thought of that disgrace and once again not being able to hold his tail high.

  Wood Anemone’s imagination did not turn to tags, but she feared the scorn of her friend Marguerite and the other squirrels. Yet she could not bear the weight of their secret. On one foraging expedition she spoke to Marguerite when the two were apart from the others.

  ‘Marguerite ma’am,’ she started, as though she were still a zervant addressing a Royal, then started again as Marguerite shook her head. ‘Marguerite-Friend,’ she said, the words like ash in her mouth, ‘uz muzd tell yew zumthing,’

  Marguerite heard her tale in silence. This was a stupid thing for them to have done and fully deserved a downtag, and yet…If
she, Marguerite, had been conditioned by a lifetime as an obedient zervant, would she not have reacted in the same way? Was there any benefit in imposing downtags on her friends? No - friendship must be left out of this decision. A True Tagger must be impartial.

  Would a down-tag act as a warning and an example to others? The circumstances were unlikely to occur again. Did Spindle and Wood Anemone deserve punishment? Not really. The act in question was virtually automatic. One in authority asks; a zervant reports. Marguerite said the Understanding Kernel:

  If you could know all

  Then you could understand all

  Then you’d forgive all.

  ‘You are forgiven, Wood Anemone-Friend. Tell Spindle, and we will never speak or think of this again.’

  One afternoon, about a week after they had arrived at the castle, the squirrels were sitting in the ivy enjoying the spring sunshine, the snow now a fading memory. The ivy was good to sit in. The curves of the twigs made comfortable couches, the only drawback being the pungent smell, but by now the squirrels had learned to ignore this and often sat there while they built up their strength for the next stage of the journey.

  With plentiful food and warmer weather, Marguerite felt that they should now prepare to move on in the direction that Dandelion had indicated would lead them to the Agglestone. She spoke to Alder and he agreed, so she went to tell Tansy, sure that she would be delighted with the news. She found her at he back of the cave, crouched in a corner shivering.

  ‘Tansy-Friend, what’s the matter?’

  Marguerite was beside her, holding the slim body and feeling the heat of a fever radiating from the young squirrel.

  ‘Dandelion, come quickly,’ she called over her shoulder, and together the older females settled the younger one in a nest of old sheep’s wool and covered her over with more.

  ‘I’ll stay with her,’ said Marguerite. ‘If she’s not better by morning, we’ll look for some herbs, but it’ll be hard to find anything until they start growing again in the spring.’

  Dandelion had promised a story that day and they had decided to continue with this despite Tansy’s fever. As the youngsters gathered round, Meadowsweet, whose turn it was to be on watch and guard duty, called out, ‘Squirrels coming.’

  Rowan scrambled up beside her and looked in the direction she was pointing. Far below, at the foot of the castle mound, a pair of red squirrels were moving forward slowly through the tussocky grass, frequently looking behind them as they did so.

  Although the travellers were obviously exhausted, there was something about the way the leading one moved which identified him to Rowan as Tamarisk. The other he did not recognise at first, but as they got nearer, he could see it was Rusty, Chip’s mother. Both of them looked tired and travel-worn.

  Rowan, Chip and some others went down to greet them and help them up to the cave.

  ‘There are Greys following, not far behind,’ said Tamarisk. ‘Rusty is a ‘Squarry’.’

  Only Chip understood the meaning and implication of this and he ran across to his mother and licked her face and paws. She hugged him to her, with no sense of sinning, and told him what had befallen his father.

  When she had finished, he said, ‘I saw the lightning strike, Rusty-Ma. I think I knew then what had happened,’

  The others had gathered around Tamarisk, who was eagerly chewing on a crust of bread brought up that morning from he bird-table.

  ‘Where’s Tansy?’ he asked,

  Marguerite told him that she had a fever and was sleeping at the back of the cave.

  Tamarisk looked concerned, but snatched another bite of the crust. ‘There are Greys following our trail. They are likely to be here before nightfall. I am sorry we’ve led them to you, but there was nowhere else for me to take Rusty. We hoped to find you somewhere here. Can I see Tansy?’

  Marguerite and Alder posted extra lookouts and the Woodstock was positioned so that it would cover the entrance to the cave.

  ‘We should be safe,’ Marguerite assured them all. ‘No squirrel will get past the power-waves and into the cave.’

  She tested the weapon by scratching a on the softwood after the permanent number and her which were already cut deeply into the wood. The invisible power that spiralled from the end of the Woodstock was sensed by their whiskers, though not seen by eyes or heard by ears. The ivy leaves around the entrance curled up into tight little tubes.

  ‘They won’t pass that force!’ Marguerite said.

  Rusty and the youngsters, who had never seen the Woodstock in action before, were impressed and comforted.

  ‘Squirrels coming,’ Rowan called from his lookout point. ‘Greys, lots of them.’

  The senior squirrels peered down from the cave entrance and watched a posse of Greys following the scent-trail of Tamarisk and Rusty.

  ‘Do we give them a chance to talk, or do we just use the Woodstock when they reach the cave?’ Alder asked, seeking guidance from Marguerite.

  ‘From what Tamarisk and Rusty have told us, they are not going to listen to reason,’ she replied, ‘but we’ll try to talk to them.’

  They waited until the Greys had reached the base of the wall and stopped to regain their breath. Their leader was the broken-toothed female they called Ivy.

  ‘What do you want?’ Marguerite called down to them.

  ‘We have come to kill the Squarry, Rusty. ‘Iss she with you, Blasphemer?’

  ‘Yes - and here she stays. The Temple Master is dead, so you can abandon your mission.’ She was bluffing – Rusty had told her that a Squarry Edict could never be lifted – but perhaps the Greys did not know that.

  ‘You lie, Blassphemer,’ Ivy called back. ‘Send the Squarry out to uss and you can leave here unharmed

  ‘I should warn you that we have a weapon whose power would amaze you,’ Marguerite called down. As she said this, she wondered if these Greys knew how to create the Stone force which their compatriots had used the previous year. If they did, they could trap the Reds in the cave and starve them out.

  The Greys ignored what she had said. ‘We give you until sunrisse to hand over the Squarry,‘

  Ivy called up, ‘then we come for her, and any squirrelss, old or young, maless or femaless, who resisst will be killed and sent to the Sunless Pit.’

  She did not believe what the Reds said about Crag being killed. Anyway, it no longer mattered to her. He had served her purpose. No Grey dared disobey her orders. This power was a wonderful thing. She, a mere female, ignored and overlooked for so long, now had only to mention the Sunless Pit and the other scurried to fulfil her commands. If only I had learned how to use the Stone power that the old regime had used to subdue these Reds, she thought, I would have the whole of Squirreldom in my power.

  She directed her party to take up positions on ledges on the wall, out of reach of dogs or cats from the village, and they crouched there to wait until sunrise.

  In the cave the Reds discussed the chances of their creeping out in the darkness, unobserved.

  ‘We can’t, with Tansy ill, and even if we succeeded, they would follow our scent and catch up with us in a less secure place,’ Marguerite pointed out. ‘Trust in the Sun,’ she added, ‘and the Woodstock.’

  Your prayers alone

  Won’t do. The Sun will help those

  Who will help themselves.

  A youngster’s voice from the back of the cave said, ‘Can I help myself to a nut? I’m hungry.’

  The laughter that followed broke the tension and the squirrels settled down to a watchful and uneasy night.

  Juniper reported the first movement of Greys in the dim light of dawn and moved back into the cave behind the Woodstock, rehearsing the numbers to release its power. A and the X did nothing, whereas a created a modest force and a was definitely a ‘whisker twister’ at that short range. Numbers higher than that would probably kill. He would start with a . There was no point in killing if he could disable the attackers effectively with a lower number.

  There
was a disturbance in the ivy leaves and he could see a round-eared head silhouetted against the light. He immediately scratched a and felt the force full the cave entrance. He heard the leaves rustle as a heavy body fell out of control to the ground outside.

  A second face appeared and he scratched a again. More rustling and then another thump as a second body fell.

  No more faces appeared, and after a while Juniper and Rowan peered cautiously out. There was a cluster of Greys below them, gathered around two others who were pawing at their faces.

  Juniper knew from his own experiences that the Woodstock power could curl a squirrel’s whiskers into tight spirals and the only way to stop the spinning in one’s head was for the curled whiskers to be bitten off. This, though, left the whiskerless animal unable to climb or balance properly. On his own initiative, he sighted the Woodstock at the cluster of Greys and scratched a into the wood.

  The cluster broke apart, squirrels tumbling and rolling down the bank, all pawing their faces. The Reds came forward, gathering at the cave entrance to watch the helpless Greys and to congratulate Juniper.

  Marguerite drew Alder to the back of the cave to discuss their next action. Tansy appeared to be sleeping at last. They spoke quietly.

  ‘If it wasn’t for Tansy, I’d suggest that we left now while the Greys are in disarray, but she’s in no fit state to travel and we can’t leave her here.’

  ‘Yes you can,’ said a shaky voice from behind her.’ You must get the Woodstock to Ourland. I can follow when I’m well again. I’ve travelled on my own before, remember.’