Urchin and the Rage Tide (2 page)

“A happy dawn, Urchin, ooh, what a lovely dawn, too, what a night, all frosty, mind you don’t slip,” she said, and paused to take a few deep breaths before she could go on. “My Filbert’s just getting me a spiced wine, they do a lovely spiced wine in them kitchens, I just come to wish you a happy dawn, now, off you go, you should be with the king, or guarding something, or whatever Circle things you’re meant to be doing, you go and do your Circley things, my Urchin.”

Urchin hugged her (keeping a watchful eye on the holly) and did as she said. Juniper and the king’s family were now all on the jetty, watching as the sky slowly grew lighter. Princess Almondflower splashed her paws in the water, gasping and giggling with the cold. Urchin’s page, Corr, appeared from somewhere with a silver jug and cups on a tray, and Princess Catkin grinned at him and helped him pour the wine. She and Corr were old friends.

“Corr,” said King Crispin, “Urchin tells me you’ve completed your training.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Corr, bowing as he presented the king’s cup.

“And that you’ve done well,” said the king.

“Yes, he has, Your Majesty,” put in Urchin, seeing that Corr didn’t know how to answer.

“Then I’ll have to speak to him,” said Crispin, with a swift smile past Corr at Urchin. “See what we’re going to do with you next.”

A bell rang. Conversation died away, and all animals turned to gaze up at the choir. A sweet pure voice reached out like a swirl of silver.

Turn for the east and yearn for the waking,

Warmth after winter, light after night,

Turn for the east where daylight is breaking…

The rest of the choir joined in, then all the islanders, singing the ancient song of the turning of the year as their parents and grandparents had sung it. They repeated it, singing it in rounds and in harmonies, and before it was finished, the animals with young children were wrapping them snugly in their cloaks and carrying them home to nests and burrows. Soon, all except the tower animals were on their way home.

“Urchin,” said Crispin quietly as they walked back to the tower, “we need to talk about Corr. He’s growing up: it’s time for him to know who he is. Have a word with Padra—I want to know what he thinks about it. And Juniper.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Urchin. He turned to look for Captain Padra—the Senior Captain, and Crispin’s oldest friend—and saw him at the shoreline, beside Juniper. He would have spoken to Padra straightaway, but it seemed as if Juniper and the otters had something important to attend to. There was an air of concentration about them. They sniffed at the scents on the air, turning from side to side. Then Juniper waded out into the bitterly cold sea—Urchin shivered just to watch him—and stood waist-deep in the lapping waves, his eyes closed.

“Tide?” he said at last. “Come to me, please.”

Tide, Padra’s son, swam to his side. “Yes, Brother Juniper,” he said.

“Swim out a little,” said Juniper. “Feel the tides. Smell the air and water. Tell me what you think.”

“I’ll go with him,” said Padra.

As the otters swirled away Juniper waited in silence, stilling his mind, listening with his heart, sometimes dipping his paws in the water to feel for the tide. When he saw the otters returning he waded back to meet them on the shore, shivering and breathing wheezily.

Urchin took off his own cloak and wrapped it around him.

“It’s not good,” gasped Juniper hoarsely. “What do you think?”

“There’s going to be a rage tide,” said Tide, “but not yet.”

“He’s right, I’m afraid,” said Padra. “You can feel it in the depths. It’s still a long way off, but the currents are stirring. When it comes, it’ll be enormous. We’ll have floods.”

Juniper nodded thoughtfully. “I thought so,” he said. “But if it’s a long way off, we have time to make ready. We’ll tell the king after the festival.” Not tonight, he thought. The island faced a terrible flood tide, perhaps the worst it had ever known. But that was not all.

There was another threat, something unseen. Juniper frowned as he tried to concentrate. The threat was from within, from somewhere on the island. Not far away some great danger was stirring, and Juniper’s fur prickled at the thought of it.

Soon, the king must be told—but tonight, he could sleep in peace.

Mossberry lay on his back on a hillside and turned his face away because the light from the tower was in his eyes. But lights still flashed in his head and all around him, and he thought he could hear a voice—what was that voice? Was it the voice of Brother Juniper, calling out from the shore? But Brother Juniper was no true priest. He had tried to explain something most important to Brother Juniper, and Brother Juniper hadn’t listened. He couldn’t understand.

Whatever Juniper said, Mossberry knew himself to be different. He was called by the Heart. Why didn’t Juniper understand? He was Mossberry, the chosen one, and one day the islanders must follow him or die.

CHAPTER TWO

HERE WERE MORE DAYS OF PARTIES
, music, and dancing, followed at last by the day when sensible animals—and even, finally, the not so sensible ones—began to tidy their nests, burrows, and chambers and settle down to catch up on sleep. On the third day, Crispin called together the senior members of the Circle to the Gathering Chamber.

Juniper stood side by side with Whittle the squirrel, who had taken over from Mistress Tay as the island’s lawyer and historian. (Tay was still alive but very old, and Crispin had insisted on her retirement. She could still walk about her own chamber alone, but for anything more she needed a wheelchair, from which she growled, grumbled, and shook her walking stick at whoever annoyed her. She no longer attended meetings of the Circle.)

Urchin and Needle were there, and the three captains—Padra and Arran, and Docken the hedgehog. (Docken’s wife, Thripple, worked with Needle on the Threadings, the pictures telling the story of Mistmantle, and their son, Hope, was Juniper’s assistant.) Spade the mole was there, quiet and sensible, and Moth the mole, Mother Huggen the hedgehog, and Russet and Heath the squirrels. Padra’s brother, Fingal, was in attendance, too, but Urchin could sense that he was restless to be out in the sea. Princess Catkin and Prince Oakleaf now joined in the Circle meetings with their mother, Queen Cedar.

In the years since the war, the queen seemed to have grown beautiful with a solemn, wise kind of beauty. More than ever, she looked like a queen of Mistmantle. Princess Catkin still liked a good argument, but had learned when to avoid one, hold her tongue, and listen, however difficult that might be. She even knew that she might not always be right. And Oakleaf was very much like a younger version of Crispin.

King Crispin was thinner, and his face narrower than when he had won his famous fight against the Archraven. Those who knew him well knew that his old wound from that battle still hurt him.

The king smiled. “Brother Juniper,” he said, “will you begin?”

“May the Heart hold us in love as the mists fold our island,” prayed Juniper aloud, “and may the Heart be in our council at the turning of the year.”

“Now let’s get the morning’s business dealt with,” said Crispin briskly. “Then we can all go and do something more important. Even you, Fingal. Padra, anything to report?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Padra gravely. “This is not good news, but the island has seen far worse. There is a flood tide to come, and more than a flood tide—there will be a rage tide.”

“Heart keep us!” whispered Mother Huggen. Fingal took her paw.

Urchin saw Moth bite her lip. Princess Catkin was looking anxiously up at her father.

“A rage tide!” said Crispin. “The younger animals here have never lived through one, or anything like it. I’m sure you’ve all been told about them—how the sea rises, and comes in on a rush. The waters sweep the island and wreck all that stands in their way. We’re not talking about any ordinary high tide, or a storm, even the worst storms you’ve ever seen. This is the full force of the sea, and a small island is nothing but a toy before it. Captain Padra and I both lost family in the last rage tide. Most animals did.”

“I remember that,” said Arran, with a glance at Padra. “Padra’s father and mine were helping to rescue the old and slow animals who couldn’t get away fast enough. Padra’s father was swept away to sea that night, and we found him on the shore in the morning.”

“I remember that morning, too,” said Crispin. He had never forgotten the way Padra had looked that day, a young otter promising to take care of his younger brother. “But that came in such a rush, with no warning. This time, we can prepare for it. Have you any idea when?”

“No,” said Padra, “but it’s still a long way off.”

“And from which direction?”

“I’d say from the southeast, Your Majesty, but it’s hard to tell.”

“Then that’s where we begin to clear the island,” said Crispin. “We must dig new burrows and tunnels in high ground. Squirrels must find the highest and strongest trees. Food supplies must be moved and kept in the hills or deep underground in the driest and safest of caves, and the Mole Palace must be opened again.”

“Won’t animals panic when they hear about it, Father?” asked Oakleaf.

“It’s up to us to keep them calm,” said Crispin, “but they will have to know what’s coming. Padra, set otters to patrol the seas today and learn all they can about the rage tide to come. They’re not to discuss it, though. We’ll let the rest of the island know when we’ve heard all the otters’ reports. Dear animals, this will be a terrible time to live through. Lives will almost certainly be lost, damage will be done, and the days after the rage tide will be long and hard. Winter crops will need to be planted again and homes rebuilt. Spade, make sure we have plentiful seed stores in safe places, and not all in the same place, just in case.”

“I’ll sort it, Your Majesty,” said Spade.

“Even so, there may be hungry days,” said Crispin, and smiled to reassure them. “But we’ve faced treachery, disease, and ravens before. We can stand together through this. Now, members of the Circle, go with Captain Docken to the north tower to sort out strategies in preparation for the rage tide. Padra and Arran, Juniper, Whittle, Needle, please stay.”

Urchin and Fingal left the chamber together after Docken and the others. Fingal slipped ahead to offer his paw to Mother Huggen, who was finding the stairs difficult, and Catkin took the shortcut out of the window, but Urchin paused to glance over his shoulder just in case there was some mistake. A gathering that included Needle and Juniper usually included him, too, and he wondered if the king had forgotten to ask him to stay. But Crispin gave no sign, and Urchin slipped out of a window and followed Catkin up the wall to the north tower.

“I shouldn’t worry, Urchin,” she said as he caught up. “They might be talking about you, but, I mean, nicely.”

Back in the Gathering Chamber, Crispin sat down on the dais and nodded to the others to sit, too, and make themselves comfortable. Arran rubbed at her left hind paw as she sat down.