City of the Rats

Of course, Lief thought, after his first astonishment had passed. Jasmine had robbed many Grey Guards who had fallen victim to the horrors of the Forests of Silence. He had actually seen a mass of gold and silver coins among the treasures she kept in her treetop nest. But he had not realized that she had brought some of them with her when she left the Forests to join their quest. He had quite forgotten about them till now, and, because to her they were just pretty keepsakes, she had not mentioned them.

A few coins bounced away onto the ground. Barda hurried to pick them up, but Jasmine barely looked at them. She was looking at Tom — at his glittering eyes. Perhaps she did not understand about buying and selling, but she recognized greed when she saw it.

“You like this?” she asked, holding up a handful of the gold.

“Indeed I do, little miss,” said Tom, recovering a little. “I like it very much.”

“Then, will you exchange the horses for it?”

A strange expression crossed Tom’s face — a pained expression, as though his desire for the gold was struggling with another feeling. As if he was calculating, weighing up risks.

Finally, he seemed to come to a decision.

“I cannot sell the horses,” he said regretfully. “They — are promised to others. But — I have something better. If you will come this way …”

He led them to a shed at one side of the field. He opened the shed door and beckoned them inside.

Standing together in one corner, munching hay, were three creatures of very odd appearance. They were about the same size as horses, but had long necks, very small heads with narrow, drooping ears, and, most surprising of all, only three legs — one thick one at the front and two thinner ones at the back. They were unevenly splodged all over with black, brown, and white, as though they had been splashed with paint, and instead of hooves they had large, flat, hairy feet, each with two broad toes.

“What are they?” asked Barda, astonished.

“Why, they are muddlets,” cried Tom, striding forward to turn one of the beasts towards them. “And very fine examples of the breed. Steeds fit for a king, sir. The very thing for you and your companions.”

Barda, Lief, and Jasmine glanced at one another uncertainly. The idea of being able to ride instead of walk was very appealing. But the muddlets looked extremely strange.

“Their names are Noodle, Zanzee, and Pip,” said Tom. Affectionately, he slapped each of the muddlets’ broad rumps in turn. The beasts went on chewing hay, completely undisturbed.

“They seem gentle enough,” Barda said, after a moment. “But can they run? Are they swift?”

“Swift?” exclaimed Tom, holding up his hands and rolling his eyes. “My friend, they are swift as the wind! They are strong, too — far stronger than any horse. And loyal — oh, their loyalty is famous. In addition, they eat almost anything, and thrive on hard work. Muddlets are everyone’s steeds of choice, in these parts. But they are hard to get. Very hard.”

“How much do you want for them?” asked Lief abruptly.

Tom rubbed his hands. “Shall we say, twenty-one gold coins for the three?” he suggested.

“Shall we say, fifteen?” growled Barda.

Tom looked shocked. “Fifteen? For these superb beasts that are as dear to me as my own children? Would you rob poor Tom? Would you make him a beggar?”

Jasmine looked concerned, but Barda’s face did not quiver. “Fifteen,” he repeated.

Tom threw up his hands. “Eighteen!” he said. “With saddles and bridles thrown in. Now — can I say fairer than that?”

Barda glanced at Lief and Jasmine, who both nodded vigorously.

“Very well,” he said.

And so the bargain was struck. Tom fetched saddles and bridles and helped Lief, Barda, and Jasmine load the muddlets with their packs. Then he led the beasts out of the shed. They moved with a strange, rocking motion, the one front leg stepping forward first, and the two hind legs swinging together after it.

Tom opened a gate in the fence and they walked out of the field. The three grey horses watched them go. Lief felt a pang of regret. In the excitement of bargaining with Tom, he had forgotten the horses. But how nice it would have been to ride them away, instead of these other strange, lolloping creatures.

Never mind, he told himself, patting Noodle’s splodgy back. We will become used to these beasts in time. By the end of our journey, no doubt, we will have grown very fond of them.

Later, he was to remember that thought — remember it bitterly.

When they reached the front of the shop, Tom held the reins while the three companions climbed up on their mounts’ backs. After some discussion, Jasmine took Zanzee, Lief took Noodle, and Barda took Pip, though in fact there was little to choose between the beasts, who looked very alike.

The saddles fitted just behind the muddlets’ necks, where their bodies were narrowest. The baggage was strapped behind, across the broad expanse of the rump. It was quite a comfortable arrangement, but, all the same, Lief felt a little anxious. The ground seemed very far away, and the reins felt awkward in his hands. Suddenly he was wondering if this had been a good idea after all, though, of course, he did his best not to show it.

The muddlets were making glad, snuffling sounds. They were clearly very pleased to be out in the fresh air, and were looking forward to exercise.

“Hold the reins tightly,” said Tom. “They may be a little lively at first. Call, ‘Brix’ when you want them to go, and ‘Snuff’ when you want them to stop. Call loudly, as their hearing is not sharp. Tie them up well when you stop, so they will not stray. That is all there is to it.”

Lief, Barda, and Jasmine nodded.

“One more thing,” Tom murmured, inspecting his fingernails. “I have not asked you where you are going, for I do not want to know. Knowledge is dangerous, in these hard times. But I am going to give you a piece of advice. It is excellent advice, and I suggest you follow it. About half an hour from here you will come to a place where the road divides. At all costs take the left path, however tempted you may be to do otherwise. Now — travel well!”

With that, he lifted a hand and slapped Noodle’s rump. “Brix!” he shouted. And, with a lurching jerk, Noodle started forward, with Pip and Zanzee following close behind. Kree squawked, flapping above them.

“Remember!” Tom’s voice called after them. “Keep tight reins! Be sure to take the left path!”

Lief would have liked to wave, to show that he had heard, but he did not dare lift a hand. Noodle was picking up speed, her floppy ears blowing backwards in the breeze, her powerful legs bounding forward.

Lief had never been to sea, for before he was born, the Shadow Lord had forbidden the coast to the citizens of Del. But he imagined that clinging to a lively muddlet must be very like sailing a boat in stormy weather. It required all his attention.

After about ten minutes, the muddlets’ excitement wore off and they slowed to a steady, lolloping pace. Noodle began to remind Lief of a rocking horse he had had as a child, rather than making him think of a pitching boat.

This is not so hard, he thought. In fact, it is easy! He was filled with pride and satisfaction. What would his friends say, if they could see him now?

The road was wide, and the companions were able to ride beside one another. Lulled by the rocking movement, Filli settled down to sleep inside Jasmine’s jacket, and now that he was sure that all was well, Kree flew ahead, dipping now and then to catch an insect. Jasmine herself rode silently, her eyes thoughtful. Barda and Lief talked.

“We are making very good time,” said Barda with satisfaction. “These muddlets are certainly excellent steeds. I am surprised that we have not heard of them before. I never saw one in Del.”

“Tom said they were hard to get,” answered Lief. “The people in this part of Deltora keep them to themselves, no doubt. And Del has had little news from the countryside since long before the Shadow Lord came.”

Jasmine glanced at him, and seemed about to speak, but then she closed her mouth firmly, and said nothing. Her brows were knitted in a frown.

They rode on without speaking for a moment, and then, at last, Jasmine opened her lips.

“This place we are to go — the City of the Rats. We know nothing of it, do we?”

“Only that it is walled, appears deserted, and stands alone in the bend of a river called the Broad,” said Barda. “It has been seen by travellers from afar, but I have heard not a whisper of anyone who has been inside its walls.”

“Perhaps no one who has been inside has lived to tell the tale,” said Jasmine grimly. “Have you considered that?”