Thomas by Robin Jarvis

Author:Robin Jarvis [Robin Jarvis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-03-22T04:00:00+00:00

10 - The Legacy of Mulligan

“Hold!” the leader bellowed. “Stay your stroke Karim!”

Above the two mice, the creature with the sword growled impatiently and waited for the order to complete the execution.

But from the gnarled shrubs bounded the tallest of the armour-clad warriors and in his steel gauntlet he grasped the glittering fragment of gold and jade that Mulligan had given to Woodget.

Nudging Thomas with the toe of his boot, he scrutinised his tail then turned his attention to Woodget and did the same to him.

“Adepts can cleave the halves together at will,” Karim whispered.

His leader ignored him and gave Thomas an annoyed kick.

“Raise your eyes!” he commanded. “What have you to say of this? How came it into your possession?”

The mouse turned and a green and gold radiance fell upon his face.

“I don’t know what it is,” he said gruffly. “It was given to my friend here. That’s all I can tell you.”

“Given!” the leader roared sceptically. “Such horrors as this are not simply given away. Always they are dearly bought, now—answer me with the truth, or Karim’s blade shall drink of your worthless blood.”

Thomas glared up at him. “You’re going to kill us anyway,” he said belligerently, “so that’s not much of a threat, is it? What I’ve told you is true, but if you’re too stupid to realise it then it’s your fault not mine!”

The leader snarled and the other warriors murmured indignantly.

“Permit me to kill the insolent whelp, Captain Chattan!” Karim demanded. “The tail of the beast may not be cloven but its unholy tongue is surely forked.”

“Thomas ain’t lying!” Woodget piped up. “Mister Mulligan done gave that sparkler to me afore he died. We doesn’t know where he got it from, nor who it belongs to—that’s the Green honest truth.”

Towering over them the leader sharply drew his breath, then crouched down to inspect the prisoners more closely.

“What know you of this Mulligan?” he demanded. “Describe him to me.”

Woodget’s fears seemed to be confirmed. Mulligan must have stolen the object from some fabulous palace and these fearsome soldiers were obviously in search of him.

“He... he were an Irish mouse,” he began, “who liked a tot of rum now and then. Gettin’ on a bit he was, with tattoos down his arms.” Woodget’s description faltered as he recalled Mulligan’s final tortured moments and he fell into silence.

“He had a wooden leg,” Thomas finished for him. “Look, if that thing belongs to you then take it and leave us alone. We don’t want it, all we want is to find a way back to our home—that’s all.”

“This Mulligan,” the armoured creature asked. “He was a friend of yours?”

Thomas glanced across at Woodget and wondered what he should say for the best, but it was the fieldmouse who answered and in a bitter, forceful voice.

“Yes he were!” Woodget cried. “Mulligan was our friend, an’ if you don’t like it, Captain Chattan—then it’s just too bad!”

A soft chortle issued from behind the mouthguard of the helmet.

“I believe you,” the leader replied, but now his tone was gentler than before.

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