The Island of Whispers Read Online Free PDF Page A

as they headed towards the tunnel. The
surroundings were new to him. Peeking round nervously, he could see
that the lair was much bigger than his own one. Although many
bodies occupied the nests, he guessed that the place was not as
full as it would be normally at this time. Security in the
underworld had been increased substantially since the escape of the
slave-rats, with extra guards having been posted along the entrance
to the Common lair and outside the tunnel leading to the
Scavengers’ lair. Here in the Protectors’ lair, guards also
squatted round the tunnel now directly ahead of the Watchers. A
last, timid glance backwards gave Twisted Foot a blurred glimpse of
another group of Protectors at the far end of the lair, but he had
little time to think about or question their purpose.
    They moved
quickly through the long, low tunnel, emerging into another
spacious lair, home of the Inner Circle. Rows of comfortable,
feather-lined nests took up the greater part of the floor area.
Some of their occupants looked up sleepily, blinked several times,
yawned and then settled down again. Rainwater glistened on the wall
to the left, collecting in a shallow pool in a corner of the
lair.
    Twisted Foot
watched the slumbering forms of the Rulers with much envy in his
heart. Compared with the luxury of this place, life in the
Watchers’ lair was cramped and austere. He had faced considerable
danger that day. He was still cold and bedraggled from his time on
the outside world. He had had no rest, and hunger gnawed at his
belly. These experiences, he realised, were alien to the Rulers.
Here there was comfort and absolute security, and the certainty of
food and rest. For the first time in his short life, Twisted Foot
was conscious that he was becoming resentful of the favoured
lifestyle of the Inner Circle. The resentment that had crept into
his thoughts was abruptly ousted by fear, however, when the
Chamberlain rose from his sleep.
    Long Snout was
wide awake and on his feet. His eyes glowed fiercely. There was
anger in his voice.
    ‘ What is the meaning of this disturbance?’ he hissed, towering
over the visitors.
    Broken Tail
replied for the group. ‘News, Chamberlain,’ he bowed, ‘from the
outside world.’
    ‘ Well?’ Long Snout asked sharply, directing his stare at the
Chief Watcher.
    Just as they
had been reported to him only a short time ago, Sharp Claws
recounted the events witnessed by Twisted Foot and Long Ears. The
Chamberlain listened carefully. Occasionally, he turned his cold
gaze to Twisted Foot, causing the young Watcher’s heart to kick
each time. When Sharp Claws had finished, Long Snout remained
silent for a few moments longer and then turned again to look at
Twisted Foot.
    ‘ You are certain that you were not seen by the Two-Legs?’ he
asked.
    ‘ Y-yes, certain, Chamberlain.’ Twisted Foot stumbled over the
words, fighting to control the tremble in his voice and
body.
    ‘ Good,’ pronounced the Chamberlain.
    After some
further deliberation, he spoke in urgent tones to Broken Tail: ‘Go
quickly! Take word to One Eye. Tell him that the Hunters must
remain in the underworld. Let the fugitives enjoy their freedom –
for the short while that they will have it!’ The last words were
spoken with venom.
    As Broken Tail
scurried off, Long Snout now directed his commands to Sharp Claws:
‘Send up your Watchers when the next light comes. The Two-Legs will
return for the Scavengers. Let me know what takes place.
    ‘ This young warrior,’ he indicated towards Twisted Foot,
‘should lead the watch. He shows some promise.’
    Twisted Foot
was too tired to react to the Chamberlain’s praise or to consider
the consequences of another daylight watch. Completely drained, he
followed Sharp Claws out of the lair. As he passed the line of
nests, he caught sight of a sleepy-eyed White Muzzle, curled up
snugly between the dozing figures of two red-furred she-rats. The
King-rat’s hefty girth and shining coat exuded