The Dark Portal Page 3

  Into the chambers strode Master Oldnose carrying a strange straw framework – he was quickly followed by Twit, greatly excited and struggling with a large bundle of leaves and blossom.

  Arthur was having a grand time. He was in the middle of it all hanging up boughs of flowering hawthorn. The scent of the blossom had always excited him, for its sweetness signalled the end of the bleak months and heralded the beginning of summer.

  Oswald Chitter was trying to help him but mostly he was just getting in the way.

  ‘Could you pass me that pin please Oswald? Ooch!’ Arthur sucked a sore finger and the row of branches which he had just put up fell down.

  ‘Oh dear, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Never mind, Oswald,’ Arthur sighed.

  Oswald was an albino runt – which meant that there was no colour in him at all, except for his eyes which were pink. It also meant that he was so weak that he often found it difficult to join in some of the rougher games. He was, however, very tall – perhaps too tall for a mouse. He was painfully conscious of this and was apt to stoop – much to his mother’s annoyance.

  ‘What sort of brass do you think you’ll get, Arthur?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t know, probably nothing too exciting.’

  ‘You never know what the Green Mouse has in store,’ Oswald said eagerly.

  ‘I can’t wait for my turn and it’s still a whole year away.’

  ‘I don’t know about the Green Mouse,’ Arthur replied, ‘but I saw old Oldnose go in there with a bag of dinky things before.’

  Ah, but that’s just him,’ the other protested. ‘He’s only standing in for the Green Mouse.’

  ‘He does make the brasses though.’

  ‘Does not!’

  ‘Oh yes he does! I’ve seen him in his workroom hammering and polishing them.’

  ‘Maybe, but he doesn’t know who gets what! It’s just lucky dip and it always works; they always match the right person so there must be something in it.’

  Arthur finished pining up the hawthorn. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s try and find Twit.’

  Oswald shook his head. ‘Cousin Twit went in with Master Oldnose – but here’s your mother and Audrey.’

  ‘Uh-oh,’ warned Arthur, ‘I spy your mother advancing.’

  Mrs Chitter had seen Gwen Brown arrive and made a beeline for her.

  ‘My dear,’ she breathed! ‘how you must be grieving.’

  Audrey frowned. She did not like Mrs Chitter at the best of times.

  ‘Grieving for what?’ she asked stubbornly.

  Oswald’s mother blundered on. ‘Why your darling father of course – absent now for so long.’ She held out her paw to console Gwen Brown.

  Audrey looked at her mother. Her eyes were moist again. What was this silly mouse trying to do?

  ‘I’m sorry Mrs Chitter, but Father has not been away for that long really, so there is no need for anyone to mourn – I’m certainly not going to,’ said Audrey fiercely.

  ‘As you say dear, you know your own heart I’m sure’ Mrs Chitter twitched her whiskers, embarrassed for the moment, then Arthur and Oswald joined them. ‘Ah boys, I was just saying—’

  ‘Oh Mother,’ Oswald interrupted, ‘have you told Mrs Brown what you heard last night?’

  Mrs Chitter brightened – a new field of tittle-tattle had been opened for her. ‘Why no! Gwen, you can’t have heard can you? That travelling person is back – you know that awful rat woman with the shawl who came last year – the one with the foreign name.’

  Arthur pulled Audrey away. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘She’ll gabble on about Madame Akkikuyu for ages – it might take Mother’s mind off things.’

  ‘She’s an insensitive, stupid nibbler!’ fumed Audrey. ‘Just listen to her twittering. How Mother stands it I can’t fathom. If it was me I’d shove her down a hole and jump on her silvery head. It’s all right – she can’t hear me. Just wait till Father gets back!’

  Arthur looked at his sister. ‘Audrey, he’s been gone too long. I love him too, but he isn’t here, is he? Today of all days, he would be here. You know he wouldn’t miss this for the world.’

  ‘He’ll be here,’ she said, ‘I know he will.’

  Then everything was ready; the garlands were all in place, the Maypole erected and the Chambers of Summer and Winter were pronounced complete. Twit had organised a small trio of musicians with himself on the reed pipe, Algy Coltfoot on the whisker fiddle and Tom Cockle playing bark drum. Together they struck up a merry tune and from out of one of the chambers came Master Oldnose. Normally he was tutor to the young ones but today he was the Mouse in the Green. He was inside a straw framework which he had covered in leaves and blossom, and here and there little bells had been hung, which tinkled as he danced. As the Green Mouse he masqueraded amongst the gathered mice and chased the young ones. Everyone clapped and sang. The celebrations had begun.

  Gwen Brown was pulled into a corner by Oswald’s mother. ‘Well, she is gifted you know,’ she continued. ‘She has a crystal in which she can see things, and she sells love philtres and all sorts of potions and medicines. Normally I would be the last mouse to go within smelling distance of a rat but she isn’t one of the sewer kind you know, she’s a foreigner and they’re different, aren’t they?

  ‘Anyway,’ the gossip continued, ‘maybe you should consider going to see Madame Akkikuyu yourself Gwen. Well just think, she could tell you where your Albert has got to.’

  ‘Oh I don’t know,’ said Gwen. ‘I’ve never had dealings with the ratfolk and I have no desire to start now, thank you.’

  ‘Well it’s a shame because she isn’t the sewer type, as I’ve said,’ persisted Mrs Chitter.

  ‘No really, if I wanted to know the future I think I would rather speak to the bats.’

  ‘Oh pooh, and come away with half a dozen stupid riddles that neither you nor anyone else can make sense of. Not me, thank you!’

  Audrey stood on the edge of the mouse gathering. She glanced at her friends enjoying themselves but did not feel like joining in. Arthur was dodging Oswald’s clumsy steps. The musicians played faster and faster. Even Mrs Chitter tapped her feet. Mouse tails were swaying everywhere like pink corn. Twit looked up from his piping and caught Audrey’s faraway look. When the jig ended he passed his pipe to Algy Coltfoot, much to everyone’s dismay.

  ‘Give us another!’ cried one.

  ‘Yes, “Eglan and his Lady Love”,’ called another.

  ‘No, “The Suitor’s Dance”.’

  ‘ “Old Mog’s Drowning”.’

  All these requests Twit fended off politely, saying that he needed to wet his whiskers and that Algy could play well enough. There were still some grumbles, though these ended abruptly when Master Coltfoot began ‘The Riddling Bats’.

  ‘Good day!’ Twit’s voice broke into Audrey’s thoughts. ‘Will you join in the dance?’

  ‘Pardon? Oh sorry, I was thinking of something else . . . What did you say?’

  ‘Will you be joinin’ the dance?’

  Audrey declined. ‘Later perhaps.’

  ‘Well, there’s the games yet to come and then the givin’ of the brasses.’

  Twit seemed taken by a sudden idea and a quick grin flitted across his face. Making a brief ‘excuse me’ he ran into the middle of the dancing mice.

  In spite of herself Audrey could not help smiling at Twit’s little russet-gold figure nipping in and out of the swaying dancers. In a moment he was standing before her again and in his paw there were two small silver bells.

  ‘From Master Oldnose’s Green Mouse finery,’ he explained. ‘I thought maybe you might like ’em. Twit blinked shyly as he gave the bells to Audrey.

  ‘Oh thank you Twit! she exclaimed. ‘Why they are lovely! Listen: the sort of sound stars should make.’

  Audrey would have hugged Twit but his ears had turned scarlet. He nodded quickly and ran back to Algy and Tom.

  Audrey reproved herself. Her father was missing and that was all as far
as she was concerned. Somewhere he was safe and trying to get back to them. She must not mourn too soon or she would be as bad as Mrs Chitter. Audrey decided to enjoy the day.

  Twit took over the piping.

  ‘Oh look.’ Mrs Chitter nudged Gwen Brown. ‘Audrey has joined in at last.’

  When the dancing was over the older mice retired breathlessly. ‘The maypole!’ shouted the younger ones and Audrey’s voice was amongst them.

  With a ribbon in their paws the mice children danced around the pole weaving in and out, plaiting them as they went, until it was covered in a sleeve of interlaced fabric. Laughter came in gales and the older ones were roused to call for the next game.

  With much giggling the two old maids brought out the leafy images. These were life-size; a boy mouse made of oak leaves and a girl from hawthorn. Favours had been sewn on lightly so that they could be ripped off easily. Then all the children were blindfolded, and at a given signal they joined in a mad scramble and fought for the scraps of material.

  Arthur wrestled with unseen bodies in his path, unable to find a piece. Oswald, however, found one first of all – he always knew where to find things – it was like a sixth sense to compensate for the rest of his freakishness. Presently, Audrey won hers after a brief struggle with her own brother, although neither knew the other. When all the skirmishes were over and the favours had gone Arthur removed his blindfold and stared blankly at the leaf images – he was the only one not to have found anything.

  ‘Shame!’ laughed Audrey.

  Everyone wondered what would happen next. Their excitement was simmering and the murmuring chatter constant. Master Oldnose signalled to the musicians and they began a solemn tune.

  ‘Come to the Green Mouse ye who are ready and receive His bounty and your destiny,’ he called to everyone with great ceremony. ‘But . . . er . . . one at a time, please,’ he added.

  So Master Oldnose disappeared into one of the rooms, whilst several mice circled the area quickly and maimed the curious levers and strings that surrounded the chambers.

  Audrey sat next to her mother and waited for her turn to enter. Gwen squeezed her paw. ‘Are you nervous, love?’

  ‘No Mother.’

  ‘Good. This is a great day for you and Arthur. I am so proud of you both.’

  Arthur stepped into the first room, grinning nervously. Inside, it had been decorated to represent the bleak winter months and the hardship that they brought. Grim, grotesque masks hung from the ceiling. Mournful paper ghosts flapped noisily from dark corners. Streamers, invisible in the gloom, dangled down and touched him, and skeletons reared up and moaned, rattling chains. Arthur loved it. He knew that outside the mice were pulling strings, wailing down tubes and operating sticks. But when something flapped unseen past his face he still jumped back and gasped. Then he laughed and plodded through the gnashing cardboard cat’s mouth and entered the second room.

  This was the Chamber of Spring and Summer. Smiling faces beamed benignly from the floor, fresh blossom garlanded the walls and heady scent filled the air. On one side there was a large golden image of the sun that blazed brilliantly. Above his head, corn dollies hung amidst various samples of cheese and grain. At these Arthur gazed, wondering if he could reach any of them. But a stern voice called to him.

  ‘Master Arthur Brown. Why have ye come?’

  Arthur collected himself quickly and replied correctly. ‘To receive that which is now mine by right and to call down upon me my destiny.’

  ‘Be it great or small, tall and dangerous, meek and futile?’

  ‘Let it be as the Green Mouse wills it.’

  ‘Then roll away the sun,’ demanded the voice.

  Arthur stepped up to the golden picture of the sun and rolled it to one side. Beyond stood Master Oldnose, resplendent in the Green Mouse costume and surrounded by small candles.

  He looked out from the leafy cage. ‘Take it Arthur,’ he said, holding out a black bag.

  Arthur closed his eyes and picked out the first brass he touched as was the custom. When he opened his eyes he gasped in surprise.

  ‘Why, it’s like my father’s,’ he said, pleased.

  ‘The sign of life and your own family,’ nodded Master Oldnose. ‘Good one that – reliable.’

  ‘Three tails together,’ Arthur agreed. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Well go on, tell your sister she’s next and don’t touch any of that cheese on your way out.’

  Audrey admired her brother’s mousebrass when he showed it to her and once again wondered what hers would be. Eagerly she entered the first room.

  As her eyes grew accustomed to the dismal light, she could see the masks painted with evil faces all around her. A faint wind seemed to be stirring them and as she looked their eyes turned to her.

  There. She heard a laugh. Audrey knew that there were mice outside having fun working the strings and rods, but that laugh was unlike any voice that she had ever known. It was thin and sneering.

  For some time she stood by the entrance, unwilling to go any further. Gradually the noise of her friends died down but not into silence. Rather, it was as if she had drifted far from them and although they were still rowdy, the distance between them was too great for them to be heard clearly.

  Audrey tried to get a grip on herself. ‘This is ridiculous,’ she told herself. ‘Something is very wrong in here.’

  A strange, cold blue light rose around her. What was happening? The masks seemed to hang lower now, the faces almost animated. Yes, they were moving in horrid scowls and greedy twists, the various mouths writhing. Audrey was surrounded by them; they pressed in closely blinking their pale, narrow eyes and licking pointed fangs. She could feel the breath from them beating upon her face.

  ‘Stop it!’ she wailed and waved her arms madly.

  Something touched her.

  The streamers that Arthur had felt were twig-like hands to Audrey. They clawed at her hair, raking her head with sharp nails.

  Voices called her name, telling her to go back; the masks gathered in front mouthing threats and barring the way.

  Audrey knew that this was more than just her imagination. Little figures darted in and out of the shadows; starved creatures which pinched her painfully when they ran past. A cold wind was blowing incessantly now – winter was howling in. It battered and gripped her with a malevolent chill until she shivered and trembled.

  ‘Go back,’ the voices in the gale called.

  ‘Return!’ the mouths hissed.

  Audrey would not listen: She had seen countless eyes watching her from the darkness – eyes that were hungry.

  This was the heart of winter – the lean time when stomachs are empty and wolves go ravening. Audrey shivered as the wings of midwinter death unfolded around her. The demons of the cold were there with her in the darkness. She could feel their bite.

  She was their prey.

  Audrey ran.

  Ahead was the entrance to the Chamber of Summer, suddenly revealed in the bitter gloom. She flung herself through the doorway.

  Sobbing, Audrey rubbed the bruises on her arms and legs. Then she became aware of warmth – he cold had gone and new life seemed to waken in her.

  Audrey looked up. Before her was the painted image of the sun. Its surface dazzled her and walls of heat came from it. All around Audrey sensed growth. Green things were sprouting; she felt the joy of unfurling leaves stretching themselves and revelling in their newness. Buds swelled and burst, exploding into rainbows of blossom – cherry, orange, apple. Their sweet scent filled the air.

  Audrey was astonished. Everywhere glowed green like the sun through the leaves. Blossoms fell in a snowstorm of multicolours and fruit took its place, expanding and growing quickly. Apples puffed up and shone red and green; pears filled out sensually and hung heavy and ponderous on the branches. Acorns and hazel nuts browned in the sunshine before dropping to the floor. Audrey could see whole fields of grain rippling like strange yellow seas. Was she dreaming? How could this be happe
ning?

  The green light was all around now, and her thoughts moved to flowers, their lives dependent on the sun, all faces turned to it. Under Audrey’s feet she felt them growing: daisies, marigolds, dandelions – all sun symbols bowing their beautiful heads to the greater one.

  And when Audrey felt drunk with it all a voice commanded.

  ‘Mistress Audrey Brown. Why have ye come?’

  ‘To receive that which is now mine by right and to call down upon me my destiny,’ she replied.

  ‘Be it great or small, tall and dangerous, meek and futile?’

  ‘Let it be as the Green Mouse wills it.’

  ‘Then roll away the sun!’

  Audrey touched the blazing image – it was not hot but seemed to be made of the purest gold that had been burnished like a mirror. Gently she pushed and the sun rolled to one side.

  There stood Master Oldnose, his face a picture of bewilderment. He stared beyond Audrey at the living green landscape and his mouth fell open. He tried to speak but all that came out was a strangled squeak. He looked down at Audrey, disbelief all over his stricken face. And then he changed.

  Suddenly he was not there. Only the leafy costume remained – and that began to writhe and grow as life gripped it. The costume sent out branches and blossomed.

  Audrey stepped back as it grew. It had a light of its own, rising in the sap, glowing, feeding the leaves until they shone like lamps and the blossom as wheels of spinning fire.

  Then two eyes formed above her and smokily a face manifested around them. It was old and fierce, kind and noble.

  Upon the brow was a crown of leaves and wheat:

  It was the Green Mouse.

  Audrey fell to her knees before the majestic figure, but try as she might she could not take her eyes from His. They spoke of countless centuries of life; they were a deep green, and yet within that green were many greens. The green of new life burned brightly there but was flecked with the dull hues of graveyard mould: death is never far from life, the eyes told her.