Doomwyte

Bosie overtook Samolus, bounding upward, three stairs at a time. Doors began slamming open, the night peace was broken by cries.

“Wot’s goin’ on out there!”

“Who’s doin’ all the yellin’?”

“Lookit them lights, is the Abbey on fire?”

Bosie caught sight of the mousebabe. He was floating toward the stairs, a short distance above the floor. With two stretching leaps, the hare caught up with the screaming Dibbun. Grabbing him, Bosie seemed to jump up and down hard, several times. Sister Violet, flopping about in slippers and nightgown, trundled toward a window, bellowing.

“Whoooooo! It’s tryin’ to take pore liddle Furff away. Heeeeelp!”

The tiny squirrel was floating, suspended between two of the lights. They fluttered about, as if trying to open the wooden window shutter. Bosie was moving faster than anybeast, knocking Sister Violet to one side as he fitted one of his metal shafts to the bow of his fiddle. The shutter flew open, blowing rain into the passage. Both lights were halfway out of the window, still holding on to Furff, when Bosie fired the metal arrow. There was a harsh, anguished croak. One of the Wytes released its hold on the Dibbun. The other one, unable to sustain the burden alone, let Furff go. She landed on the open windowsill with a bump.

Charging forward, Bosie grasped the little squirrel’s tail and nightgown, grabbing her back inside. As they both fell flat upon the floor, several more lights flew out of the window, into the rain-slashed darkness. Breathing heavily, Samolus arrived on the scene. Staring out into the night, he wiped rainwater from his eyes.

“What’n the name o’ fur’n’whiskers? There they go, the lights are all gathered round one, as though it’s havin’ trouble floatin’!”

Bosie passed Furff to Abbot Glisam, who had just come trundling up. “Aye, it’ll have problems floatin’, or flyin’ should Ah say. Yon were braw big birds, bigger’n yon carrion Ah slew outside yore gates. Anyhow, Ah hit the scum, Ah know Ah did!’”

Skipper Rorgus and Corksnout came running to the Abbot’s side. The Otter Chieftain brandished a throwing javelin in a businesslike way. “The rest o’ those lights went out by the main door downstairs, Father. They were too quick for us. Straight over the lawns they floated, an’ right out the big west gate, which, by the way, was lyin’ open.”

The young squirrelmaid Perrit was calling from the far end of the passage. “I’ve got the mousebabe, he’s not hurt. Yurrrk! What is this thing, someun bring a lantern!”

After Bosie had saved the mousebabe, he had sped straight on to rescue Furff. The pretty squirrelmaid had picked the mousebabe up and crouched against the wall, hugging him tight to her. Close by, there was something writhing sluggishly for the stairs. Brother Torilis hurried up, holding a lantern. Placing himself between Perrit and the thing, he stooped forward, peering through the lantern light. It was a snakelike reptile, dull brown, with a single thin, dark stripe along its spine. The features looked more lizardlike than serpentine. Bosie had jumped on it several times, with devastating force. The reptile was fatally injured, but still dangerous. It tried to coil and strike at Torilis.

“Don’t move, Brother, stand very still!”

Thwack! Skipper despatched the thing, with a sweeping blow from his javelin. It slumped like a wet piece of cord. The otter Chieftain looped the coils around his javelin with a skilful flick. “A slow worm? Sink me, ’tis a few seasons since I clapped eyes on one o’ these. This rascal was a full-growed feller. Ahoy, lookit the head, it’s shinin’, with a kind o’ light!”

Bosie knelt down to inspect the head. “Och, so ’tis, Ah’ve never seen ought like it!”

Corksnout, who was standing behind the hare, made another revelation. “Aye, the bottom o’ yore footpaw’s shinin’, too, Bosie. How does it feel, hot?”

The Highland hare snorted. “Ach, it doesnae feel like anythin’. It must’ve come frae when Ah did a wee jig on yon beastie’s skull. Er, ye dinna think ’tis poison, do ye, Brother?”

Torilis inspected the faint glow on Bosie’s footpaw pads. “It’s not poison, only if you were to lick it off. That’s what is called a phosphorescence, probably some mixture of mineral compounds. If you come along to my sick bay I have an herbal wash that will clean it off.”

As if fearing to walk normally, Bosie hobbled off with Torilis, thanking him, and apologising also. “Weel, Ah’m sorry Ah made mock o’ ye earlier, friend. Ye’re a right braw beastie, an’ finely learnit. Lissen the noo, frae this very-day, iffen anybeast speaks ill of ye, or mocks ye, they’ll answer tae the Laird Bosie McScutta o’ Bowlaynee. Ye can tak’ mah word on that!”

When the excitement had died down, Abbot Glisam bade everybeast to assemble in Cavern Hole, where he addressed them.