Doomwyte

Then one morning, the burly spikehog did not appear to ring the dawn bells. Tarul stirred his bedraggled feathers hopefully. Believing that his luck was about to change, he posted himself by the upper window of the tower, eagerly awaiting any development. Throughout the golden spring morn he watched the grounds below. The chance came at midday, when most of the Redbrick house dwellers gathered in the orchard to eat lunch. Both his hated foes, the spikehog and longears, accompanied by a party of others, left the orchard, hurrying off indoors.

Then two of the Dibbuns finished lunch and trolled off across the lawns, totally unwatched by elders. Excitement bubbled in Tarul’s chest when he saw where they were heading. Straight to the belltower! Hopping about eagerly, the Raven Wyte positioned himself slightly above both bells, ready to pounce. Luckily, the door below was ajar and both the little creatures entered with ease. It was Furff the infant squirrel and the very tiny mousebabe. They went straight to the trailing bellropes, seizing one apiece, tugging for all they were worth.

Tarul decided quickly. He could only manage one captive, in his weakend state; so, he would swoop down, slay the squirrel and capture the mousebabe. Being the smaller it would prove far less difficult. The raven stifled his cackles, listening to the pair below.

“A lunchertime be gone now, worra use us ringin’ bells?”

The very tiny mousebabe tugged even harder, still with no result. “A case anyone doesn’t not knows it lunchertime. Cummon, lazytail, pull ’arder willya!”

“I are pullin’ ’arder, but no bells aren’t ringin’!”

Then the unexpected happened. Sister Violet had seen the Dibbuns leave the orchard. She went after them. Tarul had missed seeing her, through hopping about in delight. The plump, jolly hedgehog tippawed up, surprising both Dibbuns.

Furff gritted her little teeth, still heaving on the bellrope. “Grrr, us ringin’ a bells fer lunch, Sissy Vi!”

The hedgehog Sister reached above their paws, taking a firm grip on both ropes as she assisted the Dibbuns. “Oh well, you’ll need to be a few seasons older, and eat all yore veggibles, just like me. C’mon now, all together. One…two…pullll!”

Babongbongggg!

The brazen rims of the Matthias and the Methusaleh bells (named after two long-gone heroes) struck the Raven Wyte either side of his head. Tarul died with the echo of the joint peals ringing through his skull. He toppled from the beam he had been perched upon, like a dark bundle of tattered rags plunging from the top of the Belltower. Sister Violet had the presence of mind to glance upward. She saw the falling object, and pushed both Dibbuns back against the wall.

Shielding them with her flowing habit, Violet stared in dumbstruck horror at the slain raven. The very tiny mousebabe peered from under the garment’s wide hem. “Huh, no wunner d’bells wuddent ring.”

Unaware of the drama that was being enacted in the Belltower, both parties of questers carried on their search in the gloomy underground tunnels. Skipper, Bisky and Umfry plodded along the left passageway, constantly avoiding entangling roots, dripping water and rough chunks of flint, which stuck out at every angle. Umfry spoke his thoughts aloud as they pressed onward.

“Huh, ’ope we don’t lose h’our way back, we must’ve come miles h’out o’ the way.”

Skipper chuckled. “We can ’ardly lose our way back, ’cos this is the only tunnel we’ve travelled along.”

The burly, young hedgehog was still not convinced. “But suppose h’it splits two ways h’again, h’I bet it’d be h’easy t’get lost then, eh, Bisk?”

His young mousefriend scoffed, “If that happens, Umf, we’ll fret about it then. Yore a proper ole worrywart, mate!”

Skipper sniffed the atmosphere. “The air seems t’be gettin’ fresher down ’ere. Are you thinkin’ wot I am, young Bisky?”

Umfry interrupted, “You mean that there’s a way out h’into the fresh air h’up yonder somewheres!”

The Otter Chieftain held his lantern up, winking at Bisky. “Our Umfry ain’t as green as he looks. Mark my words, that hog’ll go far someday!”

Umfry sat down where the floor was dry, massaging his footpaws. “H’I’ve gone far h’enough for one day, thankee, Skip. Let’s take h’a liddle rest.”

Bisky and Skipper joined him. From where they were seated, the passage before them appeared to run straight, without any twists or turns. Resting his chin on both paws, Umfry declared gloomily, “Huh, this blinkin’ tunnel must go h’on forever!”

Bisky squinted into the passage as he consulted the Otter Chieftain. “How good are yore eyes, Skip?”

Skipper shrugged. “Not as good as they used t’be, why?”

Bisky pointed down the tunnel. “Somewhere along there I thought I saw a glint o’ light. Might’ve been a sunray shinin’ through!”

Umfry wrinkled his snout after a perfunctory glance. “H’I can’t see anythin’ from ’ere.”

Bisky was already up, hurrying forward, with Skipper following, upbraiding Umfry as he went.

“Shift yoreself, spiky bottom, let’s go an’ investigate!”