As the kids and their two companions set off again, the remaining tree people formed their battle-lines to face the advancing army.
“Ok, let’s use Strategy C.”
It was the most gruelling cross-country the youngsters had ever experienced.
No matter how fast they went, the nunjas kept gaining on them, shrieking in a most disturbing way.
“Don’t look back!” yelled Larch. “Just keep running as fast as you can.”
“It’s no use!” said Alice “I can’t go any further!” Miles, Odi and Joe were flagging too.
“Those women are awesome!” exclaimed Beech admiringly; “They hardly seem to touch the ground.”
“That’s given me an idea.” said Gordon. He was gazing up at the summit of a nearby hill where a group of people had gathered. “Right! Roots and Horse – take the children on ahead. The rest of you – form a line and try to delay the women for as long as possible.”
“Where do you think you’regoing?” Beech demanded to know. Sure enough, Gordon was bounding off towards the hill. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promised. “Just carry on without me.”
“Oh fine!” Beech grumbled. “When the going gets tough, he runs out on us!”
“Well, I’m sure he knows what he’s doing. In the meantime, let’s just do as he says,” suggested Laurel. “Go on, Roots, get the children out of here. We’ll meet you back at the forest.”
“But what about you?” said Miles.
“Don’t you worry,” Laurel replied “We’ve been in worse scrapes than this!”
“And we need the practice!” Larch added. “Go on, kids, scram!”
As the kids and their two companions set off again, the remaining tree people formed their battle-lines to face the advancing army.
“Ok, let’s use Strategy C,” suggested Beech. This involved two rows of people; the ones at the front standing rigid with wooden cudgels at the ready, the ones at the back crouched down waiting for their signal to attack.
It took some nerve to watch the nunjas advance towards them, faces contorted with menace. So confident were Prism’s troops, every now and then they’d break off running to display their agility with spectacular gymnastic feats. Back flips, front flips, rolls, cartwheels and impossibly high somersaults – all accompanied by aggressive shouts and impressive Kung Fu posturing.
Facing them, the raggle-taggle tree people stood shoulder to shoulder, and if anyone’s stomach was churning, it certainly didn’t show. Instead, when the enemy drew within spitting distance, the first rank stepped forward bravely and the battle commenced. It would be nice to report that the nunjas got the worst of it, but years of discipline, professional training and total ruthlessness will always have the edge over well-meaning amateurs. Before long, despite their valiant efforts, most of the tree people were flat on their backs, either winded by a single blow to the solar plexus or maimed by a devastating kick to the knee.
“Now!” howled Beech to the second rank as he nursed his bruised patella. The remaining tree people looked at each other. “Did he say ‘Now’ or ‘Ow’?” they wondered.
“Attack! Attack!” cried Beech and this time there was no mistaking the command. In a split second, Laurel and the rest of her rank, who’d been crouching, flung a series of large fishing nets into the air. These passed swiftly over the heads of their fallen fellows and landed on the nunjas. Immediately, Beech and anyone else with the energy, dived on top of the women who were struggling desperately to free themselves, while other tree people grabbed the edges of the nets and held them firmly to prevent escapes.
Not all the nunjas had been trapped. At least a dozen of them leapt clear and continued chasing the children, brandishing their staffs. It didn’t take them long to narrow the gap, much to Alice’s dismay.
“They’re coming!” she screamed. “We’ll never get away!”
“Just keep running!” Horse cried, breathlessly, his ponytail flapping in the wind. The two boys also found the going tough. When they weren’t sinking into the spongy black peat, they were tripping over clumps of reeds or getting scratched by gorse. Even Odi was in no mood to chat. And the nunjas were gaining on them remorselessly, using their staffs to vault over streams and ditches.
“Please hurry!” wailed Joe. “I couldn’t bear to go back to Babel!”
But it seemed they’d have no choice; their pursuers came within inches of them. One of the women was so close, she managed to hit Roots over the head with her staff. A second woman reached out and almost grabbed Odi’s jacket, while Horse was well and truly hobbled by another nunja’s staff, which she flung between his legs, bringing him crashing to the ground. Surely they were lost!
Joe and the others held their breath, awaiting their awful fate but, suddenly, from out of the sky, 4 enormous shadows appeared, each with 10-foot wings. One by one, they whooshed down from above, snatched a child from the enemy’s claws and ascended sharply back into the air. The women, now 100 feet below, yelped with frustration, like hyenas cheated of their prey.
Roots and Horse gazed up at them, shielding their eyes from the evening sun. “Nice one, Gozza!” they hooted.
“See you around, lads!” Gordon replied. He would have waved, but, with one hand steering his hang-glider and the other holding onto Alice, he contented himself with a victory roll, hooting delightedly as the currents swept them into the sunset.
Alice had never been so high up before – except on planes, of course, when she’d gone abroad on holiday – and it was a little disconcerting to be somersaulting over and over with nothing but a thin bar between herself and infinity.
Even so, scared as she was, she barely squeaked when the glider started plunging into a ravine.
“Are you sure you can fly this thing?” she asked, nervously.
“Fly!? Och, Lassie, haven’t you heard? I’m the original flying Scotsman!” cried Gordon, narrowly missing a telephone mast.
“That’s a comfort!” Alice thought, and wondered how long she had left to live.
The boys, however, had no such fears. Their pilots were expert hang-gliders who spent every spare moment reaching for the clouds. They’d been a little taken aback when the huge hairy Glaswegian barged up, interrupting their sandwiches to demand help, but he seemed genuine enough and they were heading this way anyhow.
“Cooooool!” cried Odi. “Wow!” gasped Miles, and Joe simply gazed with awe at the spectacular views, wishing he could stay in the sky forever.
His pleasure was only marred by his concern for Roots. He cared about them all, of course, but, somehow, even though he hardly knew him, Roots was special – perhaps because, apart from Odi, Roots, with his engagingly lop-sided grin, had been the first friendly face he’d seen since his abduction. He hated to think that anything bad might happen to him.
Fortunately, having been directed solely to find the children, the nunjas had no interest in the tree people beyond a spiteful desire to kick them. For all their brilliance in the martial arts, it never occurred to them that these pathetic misfits might know where the children had gone, so, after a few well-aimed blows to the shins, they left Roots and Horse nursing their bruises and headed back to Babel, not even stopping to free their sisters still struggling under the nets.
“Are you alright?” Roots looked up to see Laurel and the rest of their friends running towards him.
“I’ll live,” he assured her, “though I think I’ll have a humdinger of a headache in the morning.”
Horse staggered to his feet. “At least the kids got away. Who are those women, anyway?! I’ve never been so terrified in my life!”
“Aye,” said Beech, “we’d better get going. Those nets won’t hold them forever.” Sure enough, the jumble of nunjas had produced knives and were frantically cutting their way to freedom.
“Let’s get back to the forest,” said Larch “I’ll feel a lot safer on our own territory.” With that, the tree people set off towards the valley. For many, this was slow-going due to their injuries. Those whose knees hadn’t been hammered tried to support the others.
“Sack this for a lorry load of elephant dung!” said Roots, wincing with pain. “I’m taking the fast track!” And he flung himself down the hill, sideways on, gathering speed as he went. “Come on folks, save your legs – it’s the only way to travel!” With no more ado, the others followed suit, folding their arms tightly to protect themselves as they too rolled swiftly downwards with only the occasional ‘Ouch’ when somebody hit a thistle.
“At this rate, we’ll be home in no time!” trilled Laurel.
“Told you, didn’t I?” yelled Roots. “We’re the Rolling Bones!”
Chapter 10
She drew out a bottle of expensive perfume and sprayed herself liberally. “Well, I never! Mr. Bevis! It seems we’re destined to meet yet again!”
She drew out a bottle of expensive perfume and sprayed herself liberally. “Well, I never! Mr. Bevis! It seems we’re destined to meet yet again!”
Sweeping majestically through the skies, Gordon was also enjoying himself. “This is good fun once you get the hang of it!” he exclaimed.
Alice was not so enamoured. In fact, she was beginning to feel quite sick. “When are we going to land?” she asked faintly.
“Land?” said Gordon “I hadn’t actually thought about that. Hey Guys!” he called to his fellow gliders, “how do we get down?”
One of them pointed to some trees in the distance. “We’ll drop the kids off first,” the hang-glider replied, “then follow us back to Mam Tor and we’ll guide you in.”
By now the sun had almost disappeared, and stars were sparkling in the turquoise heavens. It was freezing cold, but Joe didn’t care. He just loved the sense of freedom.
“I’ve never known the stars so bright!” he gasped. “Is it because we’re so high?”
The hang-glider, whose name was Dave, chuckled in reply. “No. There aren’t any towns nearby, that’s why. Usually, you can’t see stars properly because of streetlights. Look over there.” Joe turned his gaze to the horizon where the sky was a strange orange colour. “That’s light pollution from the city.”
“Oh.” Joe sighed “All those people in towns will never know how awesome stars can be. That’s sad.”
“This is nothing.” said Dave “If you ever go to the Pacific, you’ll really see something. The moon is huge and the sky’s literally dripping with stars.”
“Wow! I wish I could see them,” said Joe, but, for the moment, he was content.
“Okay,” said Dave, “I’m going to drop you now, but don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have a nice, soft landing.”
True to his word, as they swooped towards the ground, Dave took Joe’s hand, and gently deposited him onto a large Rhododendron. The other hang-gliders did the same with their passengers, leaving them safely cocooned by bushes and shrubs before sweeping back into the heavens.
“Stay where you are, kids!” Gordon shouted to them as he disappeared, “I’ll come and find you. Wait for me!”
Unfortunately, quite a few people were hoping to find the children. Once her nunjas returned from their quest and rescued her from the unwelcome advances of Leviathan, Prism got busy on the telephone. She was extremely angry with a lot of people, especially Wisteria who had completely vanished, no doubt cowering somewhere, knowing the Boss’s revenge would be horrific.
And no wonder! For at least an hour, Sister Prism had been hanging from the winch cable, watching helplessly as the giant crocodile began to chew through it. Had the door opened a second later, she’d have plunged from the ceiling straight into the creature’s razor teeth!
By the time she dialled the Prime Minister, however, she’d managed to calm down a little.
“You wouldn’t believe the problems I’ve had with those dreadful children!” she complained. “After everything I did for them, and this is how they repay me! As for those filthy dropouts…..well! We’ll have to disinfect the whole place now! Well, I’m sorry, but my sisters were never meant to deal with the hoi polloi. That’s yourjob. No…that’s your job! No….you get them back. No, you! No, you! Of course, if your agents aren’t up to it…….Who? Bevis?” She smiled at the mention of the name. “Now you’re talking. Yes, I know he’s your top man. Yes, I’m sure he’ll get results! That’s the best news I’ve had all day.”
Prism turned off her phone and smiled. Opening a drawer of her filing cabinet,
The prospect so pleased her she started to sing, “I feel pretty,” which she belted out in a quivering soprano. Only slightly off key.
Unknown to her, someone was listening. It was Wisteria hiding underneath the desk, her courage having long since failed her. At hearing the name Bevis, she too had been surprised and pleased. Not because of any romantic hopes, of course (although Wisteria was just as open to offers as anybody else) but rather, this information gave her something to bargain with. It could even be her ticket to safety!
When at last she heard the other woman’s footsteps leaving the office, she crawled from the desk, tip-toed out of Prism’s office and headed for the gatehouse where she lay low, waiting for her chance to escape.
It came sooner than she anticipated with a flash of headlights and the blaring of a horn signaling the approach of a gleaming black sports car. “Open the gates!” yelled one of the sisters. “Let down the drawbridge!” ordered another. And, as the car brrrrrmed into the courtyard, a plump little figure crept out unnoticed into the night.
The man who uncoiled himself from the Porsche was ushered to Prism’s private sitting room where his hostess received him, reclining gracefully across a luxurious sofa. Though still dressed in her nun’s habit, she’d removed the headdress to display a cloud of silky auburn hair, and her eyelashes seemed to have grown by an inch or more. Her normally pale lips were now a delicate blush of coral, her eyes shone, and her cheeks glowed.
Bevis stood in the doorway and surveyed the scene with a sneer. Six foot four in his stocking feet, he cut an impressive figure. His clean-shaven jaw was square and manly, his shoulders wide enough to carry a fortnight’s shopping, and his voice was deep and almost hypnotic with an untraceable burr. Though late at night, he wore tinted glasses, and not even his hair, cropped close to his scalp, gave anything away.
“Champagne?” asked Prism.
Bevis was in no mood to celebrate. “I’ve no time for that,” he said bluntly. “We need to find those kids. Any idea where they’ve gone?”
“Last I heard, they were heading for Fernilee forest with those awful tree-huggers, but you won’t find them in the dark.” She was about to suggest he waited until morning, giving her the chance to win him over with her womanly wiles.
“I shouldn’t have to find them at all.” replied Bevis, coldly. “You were supposed to keep them safe until I got here. They were safe, I take it?”
Prism sniffed indignantly “Of course they were safe! Why wouldn’t they be?”
“Come on, Prism, we all know your little games. What did you do to those children to make them run away?”
“They didn’t run away?!” insisted Prism, being truthful for once. “They were abducted by a gang of smelly hippies!”
“Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself” snapped Bevis. “Your sisterhood is unrivalled in the martial arts…yet you let a gaggle of misfits break in and steal the kids from under your noses! I doubt Elymas will be impressed.”
“You’ve told him?” she asked, genuinely alarmed.
“No, but he’s sure to find out” said Bevis. “Unless, of course….”
“Yes?” said Prism eagerly. “Please, Bevis, tell me what to do. I’ll do absolutely anything. Anything!” Her lashes were whipping up a hurricane!
“Well….I might be able to put in a good word for you,” said Bevis “but you’ll have to be completely honest with me.”
“Of course!” replied Prism in her most appealing breathy voice. “What do you want to know?”
Bevis leaned forward and removed his glasses, staring directly into her eyes. It was enough to turn Prism’s knees to jelly. “Go on, tell me” he coaxed “What did you really do with the children?”
“Oh, the children!” tutted Prism impatiently “I don’t like children at the best of times, but that Joe..!”
“What about Joe?” Bevis persisted. “Come on, tell me about him. It might help if I know how he ticks.”
“Well, he was such a stubborn boy……We tried to re-programme him but, oh, it was impossible.”
“So, he wouldn’t do as he was told, then?”
“Don’t worry, I….disciplined him. Taught him a lesson…..all for his own good, of course.”
“Of course,” said Bevis.
Prism, feeling she was talking to a kindred spirit, began warming to the subject. “Do you know, I gave him the choice. All he had to do was bow to the divinity, but…No. And I warned him what would happen. I told him straight ‘You either bow down to the divinity or……….”
“Or….?” asked Bevis.
Prism lowered her eyes “Oh, now that would be telling!” she said, sipping her champagne.
“Then I’ll just have to guess, won’t I?” said Bevis, still focusing on Prism’s eyes. “Knowing you, it must have been something really original.” He continued gazing thoughtfully. “Was it the Pit, Prism?”
“Yes, the Pit!” replied Prism, pleased at being so appreciated.
“Sister Prism, you are incredible! In fact, I can’t think of anyone to compete with you for sheer and utter…..stupidity!”
At the sudden harshness in his voice, Prism drew back, scared.
“You were meant to keep those brats alive!” he growled, “how else were we supposed to persuade Hadwin to co-operate!”
“I didn’t realise…!”
But Bevis was in no mood to listen. “None of your excuses! You had the most important mission of us all and you blew it! Just as well they managed to escape, or we’d have nothing left to threaten their father with! You stupid woman” He turned his back and marched resolutely towards the door.
“Are you going to tell Elymas?” Prism called after him.
“That won’t be necessary,” came the answer, “you’ll be able to tell him yourself – in about 3 hours’ time, at a guess.”
“What! Elymas coming here?” Prism held her hands up to her mouth, terrified at the thought.
Her guest stopped briefly in the hallway. “Don’t worry, Prism. You could always feed him to the crocodiles.”