The gluttonous hare stepped out with a will. “Lots o’ guid fruits in yon orchard, eh?”
Corksnout blew rainwater from his replacement snout, which landed over his left eye. “Never mind the good fruit, mate, you just look for the bad foebeasts!”
Bosie grinned. “That’s a grand trick ye do wi’ yore auld nose, could ye teach me how tae do it?”
Corksnout searched in his broad apron pocket. “Certainly, just let me find my bung knife, an’ I’ll cut yore nose off an’ carve ye another…. Hi, where are ye runnin to? Come back, mate!”
Up in the Belltower two shining, dark eyes watched the searchers below. This was one Wyte who had vowed not to return to the reeking cavern without a live captive.
9
The rain stopped falling an hour before dawn, making the daybreak beautiful in its serenity. Daylight showed the skies in banded layers of pink and pearl grey, with smooth cloud banks illuminated gold underneath by the rising sun. Birds were trilling everywhere as blossom and leaf raised their drooping faces to the growing warmth. Five ravens, weary and bedraggled, landed in the branches of the birch tree, outside the cave entrance. Veeku, leader of the carrion crows, looked them over with a keen, observant glance. He bowed in a servile manner to the ravens. “Kraah, my Lords, the Doomwyte awaits you!”
Korvus Skurr did not wish to confront his brothers from an exalted position in the yellow-fogged atmosphere of the big cave. With Sicariss perched upon his head, the big raven stalked about at the edge of the dark pool. He watched four of the ravens carrying the fifth one between them. They were all capable-looking birds, but none as tall and powerfully built as Korvus, the leader of the brood. They laid the injured bird down at the poolside. Korvus could plainly see the thin metal arrow protruding from the back of his left wing.
“Garrah, who did this to ye, Murig?”
The raven managed to lift its head. “Yaark! ’Twas a long-legged earthcrawler, who lives in the Redstone house. I am hurt bad by this thing.”
The smoothsnake reared up, standing like a diadem on the head of Korvus. Sicariss swayed as she hissed at the ravens. “Ye are not Wytessss, ye are sparrowssssss, where isssss the captive?”
Frang, the eldest of the raven brothers, clacked his beak dismissively. ‘’Kaach! We were lucky to leave the Redstone house with our lives. Those earthcrawlers are fierce fighters, they do not like their eggchicks being taken. See what they did to Murig?”
The smoothsnake slithered down from Korvus’s head to confront Frang. She glared icily at him. “Foolsssss, you could not catch one earthcrawler between you. Idiotsssss!”
Frang, who had been in charge of the mission, was not afraid of Sicariss. He cocked his head scornfully at the serpent. “Yaaaark! Your Snakewytes did nought to help us. They won’t get back here until evening, slow, useless worms!”
Sicariss reared up as if she was preparing to strike the raven. Frang did a warlike hop, flexing his talons. Korvus Skurr swooped down between them, wings spread.
“Rakkacharr! Fighting amongst ourselves will get nought done. Six of you went to the Redstone house, but I see only five returned here. Where is our brother Tarul?”
Murig, the injured raven, attempted to rise, but he flopped back awkwardly, head drooping, eyes clouding over. “Kaah! Tarul stayed….” Murig got no further. In his fall to the ground he had landed on the protruding metal shaft. A feeble rattle issued from his beak. He lay dead.
Korvus hurried to his side, prodding at him with his powerful beak. “Garrah! What of Tarul, where is he? Speak!”
Sicariss began coiling around the tyrant bird’s head, hissing, “Murig will sssspeak no more. He goesss to meet Welzzzzzz!”
Korvus Skurr shook the snake from his head with a quick, angry jerk, berating her stridently. “Harrrakah! No brother of Skurr will be eaten by that monster. We will feed Welzz your slow worms when they return. I have spoken!” Folding his wings, and puffing out his chest, the tyrant swaggered up to his perch above the pool.
Sicariss followed him, appeasing her host as she slithered back up to the crown position. “Your word issss law, the voice of Korvussss Ssskurr mussst be obeyed in all thingsssss!”
Korvus turned his beaded eyes upon Frang. “Yarrr! What became of Tarul?”
Frang explained, “Harrah, he is hidden inside the Redstone house, your mission did not fail.”
Preening his feathers, the tyrant raven spoke to Sicariss. “Kraaah! You see, my Wytes serve me well. This is good. You will speak with the Welzz, find out what the omens say.”
Korvus Skurr may have thought that he was ruler absolute of his sinister world, but it was the smoothsnake who was the one that dictated most of the policies. Sicariss was a mistress of intrigue, she bent Skurr to her will by preying on his vanity, his greed and most of all upon his superstitious nature. Sicariss would stay out of reach of the monster catfish, hovering over the pool, as if listening and conversing with Welzz. The fish would swim up from the depths. Whenever Sicariss appeared, it usually meant feeding time. It would wait there, visible to onlookers, the wide, ugly, barbeled mouth opening and closing constantly. Korvus believed that it was the spirit of his underworld realm, and that it spoke to him through Sicariss. Secretly, the raven was afraid of Welzz. Once anything, living or dead, went into the pool, it was devoured in the most revolting way.
Korvus closed his eyes, pretending to doze, as Sicariss communicated with the giant fish. The smoothsnake knew of the raven’s fear, feeling through her coils the tension beneath his luxuriant plumage. Accordingly, she prolonged the supposed interview, until she heard Korvus murmur impatiently. “Krraaah, what does he say? Tell me!”
Sicariss made her report, knowing that Korvus would accept that it came from Welzz. If the snake felt he was going to be disagreeable about things, she could back up the demands with warnings, dire threats and predictions of doom. Sicariss contracted her coils lightly about the raven’s head, indicating that she was ready to transmit the wisdom of Welzz. Back on his perch, Korvus dismissed all within hearing. He listened intently to the snake’s sibilant whisperings. The four remaining raven brothers, and a few carrion crows who waited in attendance, withdrew to the far side of the cold, gloomy cave. Perched upon the ledges, they watched the ill-matched couple. At times they hissed and cawed violently, whilst at other intervals their heads were close together, as if in agreement.
It was a long time before they were finished conferring. Korvus Skurr signalled to Veeku, leader of the carrion crows. He hopskipped across the cave floor, with a quick, bouncy gait. Veeku paid heed to his instructions, then winged off to the sulphured atmosphere of the main cavern, in preparation for the announcement.
Noon shadows were starting to lengthen in the sunny day outside, when the three slow worms arrived back. They were ushered into the big cave by an escort of choughs and jackdaws. The trio of reptiles coiled together at the edge of the steaming lake. Hemmed in by their guards, they instinctively knew trouble was brewing for them when the drums began rumbling. However, they stayed passive, knowing there was no escape from the judgement which was about to descend upon them.
The drumbeats rose in volume and tempo until the high cave, with its noxious, decaying odours and slime-encrusted walls, echoed with their intensity. Every bird and reptile gathered around the boiling, sulphurous lake, chattering, hissing and cawing.
“Warrahaarr! Attend ye the Mighty Korvus Skurr and his crown, Sicariss!”
The drums stopped, and the chatter died immediately. Birds and reptiles stood in frozen silence, staring toward the centre of the mist-shrouded lake.