Doomwyte

Without enquiry or question, Bisky, Dubble and Zaran moved aside as the molecrew came in, with Guosim shrews bearing their digging gear. Skurpul moved rapidly about, marking the earth with a small pawpick.

“Roight, naow, iffen ee maid bees stuck unner thurr, we’m gotten to be diggen two long, slopen tunnels. Lissen naow, yurr’s moi plan.”

Nokko was not very familiar with moletalk. Bisky could see how anxious he was about Spingo, so he translated Skurpul’s scheme to the Gonfelin Chief. “Friar Skurpul plans on having his crew dig two tunnels, one from the left, the other from the right. Owing to the soft earth, they’ll start a short distance away. The tunnels will slope gradually, instead of going straight down, with molecrew shoring up the holes as they go. Spingo will be reached from both sides when the tunnels are completed. Do you see the oak tree on the left, and the big sycamore on the right, sir?”

Nokko looked from one tree to the other. “Aye, I sees ’em Bisko, are they part o’ the plan?”

Bisky nodded. “Right, sir, the moles will attach two of their longest ropes, one to each tree, as a safety measure, that way they’ll be able to haul Spingo, and themselves, back out again. Don’t worry, if anybeast can reach your daughter it’ll be Friar Skurpul and his molecrew. There’s no better diggers in all Mossflower!”

By now, the full complement of Guosim and Gonfelins had arrived. Nokko turned to Skurpul. “Is there anythin’ we kin do to ’elp youse?”

The black otter Zaran answered for the Friar. “We help by letting moles do their job. If you need something to do, then arm yourselves and watch the cave entrance below. Danger could come from that place. Baliss is in there, and Wytes, carrion birds, many reptiles also.”

Garul, the new Log a Log, drew his rapier, nodding to Nokko, who was stringing a bow. “Wot d’ye say, Pikehead, shall our buckoes stand sentry?”

Nokko fitted a shaft onto his bowstring. “Right, mate, an’ if’n just one snotty snout pokes outta there, we’ll show ’em the meanin’ of slaughter!”

The long ropes were in place, secured tightly to both trees. Bisky saw the debris of loose earth, pebbles and broken roots, showering out from two directions as the molecrews commenced their dig, Rooter and Soilclaw from one side, Grabul and Ruttur from the other. Friar Skurpul assisted Frubb and Burgy, dashing from one tunnel to the other, with pawsful of green willow boughs. These were quickly fashioned into rough frames, and forced into the sides of the diggings, shoring them against any sudden collapse.

Spingo was wakened from her semiconscious reverie by heavy snuffling, and a paw scraping her back. The Gonfelin maid squeaked in alarm as loose earth began cascading in on her. Then the reassuring rumble of a mole voice made itself known.

“Yurr, likkle miz, doan’t ee be a-frettin’, we’m soon have ee owt o’ yurr!”

The huge stone slab shifted above them, dropping lower as another mole enquired from the other side of Spingo, “Yurr, Grabul, have ee reached ee pore creetur yet?”

Grabul spat out sandy soil, gathering in the slack of the rope on his side. “Burr aye, she’m been a-sufferin’ down yurr. Oi’ll just get ee rope abowt ee, missy, doan’t ee be afeared, young un!”

Soilclaw burrowed through from the other side. In total darkness he fumbled about until he found Ruttur and Grabul. Soilclaw passed them the other rope. There was a rumble as the rock slab slipped even lower.

Realising there was no time left for further manoeuvre, Friar Skurpul dug furiously, pulling himself along by the rope from the left, hawking soil and bellowing, “Get ee owt! Save ee maid an’ you’m selves!” His last words were drowned out as the entire hole collapsed inward, soil, sand, stone, roots and the massive rock slab.

Pandemonium reigned in the vast, sulphur-clouded cave. Baliss was on the loose within. Crazed with agonising pain, the monster reptile charged around like a juggernaut, scattering heaps of bone and slime widespread, lashing the filth-encrusted walls with a whiplike tail. Insects and small reptiles were crushed beneath the thrashing coils as the adder went on in a quest to find cool water. All else was wiped from the snake’s senses, only water, to rest the hideously infected head in. Cold water to ease the torment of embedded hedgehog spines, suppurating pus from nosrils, mouth and blind eye sockets.

Regardless of the sanctity of Korvus Skurr’s inner retreat, frogs, toads, lizards, grass snakes, smoothsnakes and slow worms slithered into the rear cavern. Korvus Skurr, the great raven Doomwyte, was powerless to stop anything now. He cowered behind the broken stalagmite which had once been the perch he ruled from. From the other cavern he could hear Baliss charging about insanely.