Emily Rodda - Deltora Quest #3 - City of the Rats

“Well, our lives do depend on our getting away from here as fast as we can,” muttered Jasmine. “What do you think we should do?”

Barda and Lief exchanged glances. The same thought was in both their minds.

“The straw between the bins is deep,” said Lief. “We could hide in it well enough, I think.”

Barda nodded. “So, history will repeat itself, Lief.” He grinned. “We will escape from here in the same way your father escaped from the palace in Del as a boy. In a rubbish cart!”

“But what of Kree?” Jasmine whispered. “How will he know where I am?”

As if in answer to her question, there was a screech from one of the trees. Jasmine’s face brightened.

“He is here!” she hissed.

At that moment the Ra-Kacharz came back to carry away more bins and the companions moved out of sight. But as soon as the red-clad figures had staggered away with their huge burdens, three shadows darted from the shelter of the gateway and climbed into one of the loaded carts. One of them signalled at the trees as she burrowed under the straw between the bins, and a bird cried out in answer.

The friends lay cramped, still, and hidden while the Ra-Kacharz finished their work.

“Was that the last?” they heard a familiar voice ask. It was the woman who had spoken for them at the trial.

“It seems so,” said another voice. “I had thought there would be more. There must be a problem in the kitchens. But we can wait no longer, or we will be late.”

Late? Lief thought, suddenly alert. Late for what?

There was a creaking sound as the Ra-Kacharz climbed into the carts. Then three voices cried, “Brix!” and with a jolt the carts started to move.

Lying under the straw, the three companions could see nothing but patches of grey sky, and, now and then, the shape of Kree flying high above them. If the Ra-Kacharz thought it strange that a raven should be flying before dawn, they said nothing. Perhaps, Lief thought, they did not even notice Kree, so intent were they on urging the muddlets to greater speed.

Lief, Barda, and Jasmine had planned to jump from the cart when they were a safe distance from the city. But they had not counted upon their cart being in the middle of the three. And they had not counted upon the speed of the muddlets.

The carts jolted and bounced upon the rough roads, and the countryside flew by. Even dragging heavy loads, the beasts galloped amazingly fast. It was plain that any attempt to jump would lead to injury and capture.

“We will have to wait until the carts stop,” whispered Jasmine. “Surely they cannot be going far.”

But the minutes stretched into hours, and dawn had broken, before finally the carts slowed and jolted to a halt. And when, sleepy and confused, Lief peered cautiously through the straw to see where they were, his stomach seemed to turn over.

They were back at Tom’s shop. And marching towards them was a troop of Grey Guards.

The carts creaked as the drivers climbed from their seats and jumped to the ground. “You are late!” growled the leader of the Grey Guards.

“It could not be helped,” said one of the Ra-Kacharz calmly. Lief heard a jingling sound, and guessed that the muddlets were being freed from their harness.

There was the sound of hooves, as though horses were being led towards the carts. The grey horses from the field behind the shop, Lief thought.

“Good morrow, my lords and my lady Ra-Kacharz!” shouted Tom’s voice. “A fine day!”

“A fine day to be late!” the Guard grumbled.

“Leave this to me, my friend,” said Tom heartily. “I will see to the changing of the beasts. Go and finish your ale. It is a long, dry way back to Del.”

Lief’s heart lurched. He heard Barda and Jasmine draw quick, horrified breaths.

The food was not to be dumped. The carts were going on to Del!

Lief lay motionless, his mind whirling. He hardly heard the sounds of the Guards’ feet marching back to the shop. Suddenly, everything had fallen into place. For centuries carts had trundled up the hill to the palace in Del, loaded with luxurious foods. However scarce food was in the city, the favored people of the palace never went hungry.

No one had ever known where the food came from. But now Lief did.

The food came from Noradz. The people of Noradz labored to grow and gather food in their fertile fields. The cooks of Noradz worked night and day to produce delicious dishes. But only a little of what they made was enjoyed by their people. The rest was taken all the way to the palace in Del. Once it had kept the kings and queens of Deltora in ignorance of their people’s misery. Now it fed the servants of the Shadow Lord.

The Ra-Kacharz were traitors to their people. Tom, who had pretended to be against the Shadow Lord, was in fact a friend to the Grey Guards.

A hot wave of anger flooded Lief. But Barda had his mind on more pressing matters.

“We must get out of this cart!” he hissed. “Now, while the Guards are gone. Lief, can you see —?”

“I can see nothing!” Lief whispered back.

Harness jingled. Kree screeched from somewhere nearby.

“It is strange. That black bird has followed us all the way from Noradz,” said a Ra-Kachar’s voice.

“Indeed,” said Tom thoughtfully.

Lief, Barda, and Jasmine stiffened under their covering of straw. Tom had seen Kree before. Would he guess …?

Tom cleared his throat. “By the by, I must give you bad news. You will have to return to Noradz on foot. The fresh beasts kept here for your journey home have been stolen — by some crafty travellers.”

“We know it!” said one of the Ra-Kacharz angrily. “You should have taken more care. We found the beasts trying to get back into their field behind the hill late yesterday. They had bolted for home, and thrown the strangers from their backs outside our front gate.”

“The strangers brought evil to our halls,” another Ra-Kachar droned. “They escaped death by a breath, and even now lie in our dungeons.”

“Indeed,” said Tom again, very softly. Then his voice became more cheerful. “There! These poor, tired muddlets are free from their bonds. If you will take them to the field, I will finish harnessing the horses. Then, perhaps, you will share a mug of ale with me before you begin your march.”

The Ra-Kacharz agreed, and soon Lief, Barda, and Jasmine heard the sound of the muddlets being led away.

Moments later, Tom spoke again. It seemed he was talking to the horses. “Should anyone wish to leave a cart unobserved, and run to the trees at the side of the shop, this would be the time to do it. Poor Tom is alone here, now.”

The message was clear. Clumsily, the three companions wriggled out of the straw and ran, feeling stiff and bruised, to the shelter of the trees. Tom did not look up. He just went on harnessing the horses, whistling softly to himself.

Lief, Barda, and Jasmine lay watching as the shopkeeper walked casually to the back of the cart where they had been hiding and picked up the straw that had fallen to the ground. He pushed it back into place, then strolled towards the trees, his hands in his pockets. He bent down and began pulling grass, as though he was gathering it for the horses.

“You sold us muddlets that did not belong to you!” Barda hissed at him furiously.

“Ah well,” murmured Tom, without looking up. “Poor Tom finds it hard to resist gold. He admits it. But what happened was your fault, not mine, my friend. If you had taken the left-hand path, as I advised, the beasts would never have caught the scent of home and bolted. You have only yourselves to blame for your present trouble.”