She was ready for him, almost thrusting her haunches at him, and he could take her just when he wanted, just as he wanted…
‘Rune! Rune, sir!’ The henchmole’s voice carried down the tunnel towards him and then the sound of the henchmole running down to them. ‘Rune, sir! Mandrake wants you.’
The henchmole stopped some way from Rune for he could see that he was with a female, and a salty, mating scent hung in the air and carried with it the threat that Rune might attack to kill for being disturbed. In the spring a mole was more careful, but September matings were a rarer thing. The henchmole backed slowly away, repeating, ‘It’s Mandrake, sir, he’s got a mole he wants you to see and listen to. He’s got Rue from the slopes.’
Rune turned to look at him, the voice growing louder in his ears as he pulled himself back from the encirclement of Rebecca to the demands of Mandrake. He heard Rebecca’s breathing change and saw her tense and move away very slightly, and he saw that his moment had gone, for the time being. ‘I’ll have you yet,’ he promised himself, looking at her beautiful coat and now only half-open haunches. ‘I’ll take you any way I want.’ With that, and without a word to her, he left, following the henchmole to go to Mandrake and this tiresome mole from the slopes.
For a long time after he had gone, Rebecca stayed where he had left her, feeling enshadowed and grimy. The talon touch that had excited her so much moments before now hung heavy on her. She could smell his scent in the air where he had left it, and it seemed dry and cold, making her shiver with disgust.
She had no more desire to stay in Barrow Vale, even though she had only just arrived. If Mandrake and Rune had got hold of Rue, she would have little chance of talking to her without Mandrake finding out she was there and causing trouble. And she was so tired of that from him. She wondered why something so simple as mating seemed to be so complicated.
Eventually, it was the possibility that Rune might come back and find her there, or that he would tell Mandrake that she was in Barrow Vale, that made Rebecca leave. But she had no desire to return to her tunnels. Instead, she circled her way through Barrow Vale in the direction opposite to that in which Rune had gone with the henchmole, keeping to the shadows and avoiding conversation with other moles until she found herself leaving by an entrance that led towards the Westside.
Well! She had heard so much about it and never dared to go there. Now was her chance! She stayed on the surface for only a short time, found what smelt like a communal tunnel, and shook the shadows of Rune and Barrow Vale from her fur as she headed off on the longest journey she had begun since going down to the Marsh End and meeting Rose the Healer.
If the thought had crossed Rue’s mind, as she rushed in a panic down to Barrow Vale, that she would eventually be summoned into the elder burrow to tell her story to
Mandrake, she might have thought twice about heading down there in the first place. She was terrified of him and had never forgotten his threat to kill her if she ever tried to return to her tunnels again.
But on her third day in Barrow Vale, a henchmole ambled up to her, pushed away the moles who were gathered around her, and said, ‘Yer ter jump to it and come wiv me dahn ter the Elder Burrer: Mandrake wants to talk to yer.’ She stared at him in terror and could not move a muscle. ‘Come on then, look sharp. And for Stone’s sake clean yerself up a bit, because although Mandrake won’t notice, Rune’s goin’ ter be there and ’e will.’
The henchmole, a roly-poly bully of a southern Westsider, almost had to drag her along to get her there, and when finally he shoved her into the presence of Mandrake and Rune, cuffing and cursing as he did so, she felt certain she was going to be killed on the spot. Her paws trembled and she did not at first dare look up at the looming presence above her. When she finally did, it seemed that Mandrake’s eyes were black holes deep in his face.
‘So this is the female who claims to have heard mole noises coming from the Ancient System,’ said Rune to Mandrake in a voice so accusatory that it made it sound as if Rue had set out to tell lies and deliberately deceive Mandrake himself.
Mandrake looked full on her and she quailed before his gaze, everything suddenly cast for her into slow motion as he shifted his massive weight from one side to the other and scratched the side of his face with the biggest talon she had ever seen.
‘Mmm…’ he growled. ‘What’s your name, girl?’
‘R-Rue,’ she faltered.
‘Rue.’ He said the name as if it were the name of a mole long lost in the pit of despair. ‘Rue. Mmm… you used to live over by…’ He didn’t finish the sentence, and to fill the gap she nodded her head eagerly, feeling an inclination to say anything to save herself from the death that she felt certain was about to come her way. Something like ‘It really doesn’t matter that you forced me out of my tunnels, I don’t mind, I’m only an insignificant little mole and you can do what you like to me, only please don’t…’ As it was, she didn’t need to say anything, since she looked as abject and pathetic as she felt.
‘I have heard of your story and I’m not wasting time hearing it again here,’ said Mandrake. ‘You will take us to your tunnels and show us where you heard what you claim to have heard.’
‘Yes, sir,’ whispered Rue.
Rune suddenly poked his snout forward until it was only inches from hers, and she felt the power of his contempt on her.
‘Did you hear noises, or did you make it up to draw attention to your miserable little self?’ he asked.
Rue started to whimper at this. She was so frightened and cowered back, stuttering out that ‘n-n-nomole could tell a lie in the Elder Burrow’. The thought had not occurred to Rune, who would tell a lie in front of the Stone itself if need be, but what did occur to them was that Rue was too grubby and unintelligent to make up such a bold lie.
So it was that Barrow Vale was treated to the rare sight of a quaking Rue leading the mighty Mandrake and Rune, along with the attendant henchmole, through their tunnels and on to the communal one leading towards the slopes.
Rue, however, was a poor leader. She felt nervous and sick at the strain of it all and at one point actually collapsed, unable to on. ‘Get her food,’ snapped Rune impatiently to the henchmole, who did so with ill grace.
‘Last bloody time I find worms for a female, I can tell yer that,’ he muttered angrily as he hurled three worms down before her in the tunnel where she lay. Rune noted this remark down in his memory. He didn’t trust moles who lost their tempers over something as trivial as that, or even lost their tempers at all.
‘Well now, is ’er ladyship ready to move ’erself forward then?’ asked the henchmole sarcastically when she had eaten the food. She nodded and got up, feeling very shaky and nervous, for to add to her fear of Mandrake and Rune, there was her apprehension about what might be waiting for them in her tunnel.
Eventually she reached the end of the communal tunnel, led them out on to the surface, and from there pressed on the last few hundred moleyards to her tunnels.
‘Well!’ said Rune when they got there, with sarcasm lurking behind the good-humoured tone in his voice. ‘This is where it all happened, is it?’
Rue nodded her head miserably. She felt she was going to be attacked at any moment by one of them, or perhaps all of them.
‘Why didn’t you say that this was Hulver’s old system right from the start?’ Rune spoke the words silkily, but to Rue they sounded as threatening as a thousand moles. And she didn’t understand what he meant at all.