《A Perilous Pest》


 Chapter One

    Grimmbros and F¨¹rg??n stood for a while, gazing back at the wreckage of the toll bridge and drinking in the freshness of the glorious spring day that had so unexpectedly blossomed around them. Now that the unnatural winter had ended, bluebells were shooting up around their feet and the grass was full of writhing primroses, daisies and dandelions jostling for position. Small insects began to whir in the air and the sun felt luxuriously warm. Some sort of fly flew into Grimmbros'' ear, its riotous buzz suddenly sounding very close. He crushed it with a finger. Taking a deep breath, he took a moment to enjoy the touch of the sun on his skin and to appreciate the efforts of a small flying toad sitting on the warm folds of F¨¹rg??n¡¯s hat, catching an iridescent scarlet mosquito with its tongue.


    The trauma of the past few days seemed raw and cold in contrast to the abrupt change in the weather. No words were needed to arrive at the decision to head off north, away from the dismal bridge that had delayed them and let the beest get far away. Setting off at a brisk pace with Grimmbros carrying the injured wood-elbh, soon the river was out of sight. F¨¹rg??n was the first to speak: ¡°What happened to Razzles?¡±


    Grimm shrugged, ¡°Dunno. Maybe Ebore boxed him up to taunt the poor scantling, or ate him even.¡±


    The renling shuddered and scowled. ¡°Seems wrong going on without him. It was his quest really. Although, I think there was less skipping than he¡¯d hoped. You know what I think? I think that bad jam made him ill. He looked pretty pale when you lot sent him out to see me with him there,¡± he angled a thumb at the elbh slung on Grimmbros¡¯ shoulder.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got a name you know!¡± grumbled the elbh, tenderly pressing his injury and wincing.


    ¡°That¡¯d be death make-up, you know what knohms are like. Get ¡¯em depressed and they paint themselves all over with anything at hand.¡±


    ¡°Knohms are so weird. Still, s¡¯pose you could be right. How did those oafes get you to agree to kick me out,¡± said F¨¹rg??n, looking a bit hurt.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. That bad jam got to us all. Some marmalade marmalady made us all maudlin. That crazy she-oafe kept going on and on about how you were too partial to her precious preserves, so you couldn¡¯t be trusted. She had us all sat round her table, stuffing us with toast until we agreed with her. What sense does that make?¡±


    The renling scowled for a moment, then stuck a grubby finger into his mouth and brandished it dramatically skyward. ¡°We¡¯re going that way,¡± he pointed emphatically to the east, ¡°North!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that way?¡± the urgh-bane enquired.


    ¡°Henrod Scree,¡± came the cheerful reply.


    *****


    Back in Tullgotha before a freshly stoked fireplace, a softly snoring Razzles sank deeper and deeper into his favourite chair, like a willing victim into warm quicksand. Depression and uncertainty had led him back here, back to the easiness of normality; tiredness and stress led him to sleep. But sleep was not having the effect anticipated. As Razzles dozed, he envisioned small spiders emerging from the cracks and corners of his sitting room, making their way purposely toward his recumbent form like bed bugs anticipating a nocturnal feast.


    The creatures climbed the legs of his chair, stepped boldly onto his body and began to produce thread. As these laid fine lines of lustrous silk from chair to knohm, others began appearing from the same peripheral openings, crevices and hiding places. At first, a small stream of tiny bodies marched knohmward and then a veritable outpouring. They began ascending every surface and structure stretching out their webs as they went. In a short while the whole room was festooned with cobwebs in multiple layers and gossamer veils and Razzles was cocooned like a caterpillar in a chrysalis. Anyone chancing upon the scene might be forgiven for assuming that the place had been abandoned for decades.


    Fitful dreams disturbed the enshrouded Razzles¡¯ repose: in soft, hazy mist he was capering merrily toward his beloved home in the city, skipping in the sunshine. As he approached, a big cloud arose in the east. He stopped, noticing something unusual: there before the archway into the house was his favourite navel-lint and beard-hair mattress. Someone had carelessly brought it outside and discarded it on the lawn. Hurrying indoors he was dismayed to see that the floors and cupboards of his quaint, little cottage had all been gouged and scratched as if a family of gnus had been galloping around and around in circles. A pot of water was boiling untended on the stove and in danger of burning dry. He scuttled forward and in his haste to remove the scorching pot he slipped and fell heavily onto his elbow.


    A sudden movement caught Razzles¡¯ attention, a small rodent perhaps. He picked himself up, following the creature and peeped into the bedroom, nursing his funnybone. There, in a pair of big, hefty boots was an angry- looking elbh stamping vigorously on the floor, scratching it.


    ¡°First bed bugs!¡± it yelled, ¡°Now a mouse! Ugh!¡±


    ¡°Why? Where?¡± Razzles sputtered. Why was this elbh in his cherished home and treating the place in such a vulgar manner?


    Before he could speak, everything drained and he saw himself at an outsized, oval table piled high with afternoon tea items. Across a stack of lurid preserves and spreads were the immense figures of Norris and Ebore, stuffing assorted sweet things into their mouths, at the same time bellowing unintelligible claims as to who said what and who said someone said whatever else. Errant crumbs flew among the accusations. Grimmbros sat, head flat on the table, a buttered scone stuck to one cheek. He was mumbling something about needing an assurance that all of this was going somewhere. Everyone ignored him.


    F¨¹rg??n, paying no heed to anyone or anything around him, sat at the far end of the table. He was precariously perched on a stool, producing music from an unseen sonic source and waving his arms, vigorously conducting a tune apparently known only to himself. And, upon a small side-table, an aberrant, stroppy elbh in boots strode round kicking teaspoons, crumpets and sugar lumps, waving its arms and remonstrating angrily with the other participants as if the victim of some scurrilous injustice.


    Razzles gazed from one to another, his head in a spin. Something darted under the table, and as he twisted to look at it he felt a muscle pull in his neck. It was that mouse again - no, not a mouse. A gerbil. Was it his gerbil? Had it escaped? A sugar cube struck him in the eye and without warning, everyone was bearing down on him demanding his input on a matter that escaped him. He felt himself shrinking into the folds of his own clothing. Ebore and Norris looked frenzied and Grimmbros kept pressing him, ¡°Do you have a plan? Do you have some explanation as to where all of this is going? Do you? Do you?!¡±


    Feverish and hot under the collar, the beleaguered knohm fought for a reply and finally blurted, ¡°Get it into your thick skull ¨C I¡­ I¡­¡± He paused, wrestling with what he thought he wanted to say and what he felt he was supposed to say. He could not restrain himself any longer. Against his will, better judgement and sense of reason, he spouted the words,


    "...thoust will be smouted!¡± It doesn¡¯t even make sense, he realised.


    *****


    Meanwhile, putting as much distance as possible between themselves and the river, Grimmbros, F¨¹rg??n and a wood elbh whose name no one had yet bothered to ask crossed the meadowlands north east of Tullgotha. At a suitable point, they stopped to examine the elbh¡¯s injured leg.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "Mr Grimmbros sir, there''s nothing for it, it''s broken," the patient moaned as Grimmbros poked the limb in question with a stick. "You''ll have to fix it."


    Renling and urgh-bane exchanged helpless glances and looked around themselves as if expecting a solution to somehow present itself. When their eyes met they engaged briefly in a battle of eyebrow movements and surreptitious head angling, each intended to suggest that the other had an obligation to do something. The elbh sighed loudly, wondering how it was that creatures like these hadn¡¯t died out and become extinct long ago.


    ¡°There''s a wood ahead,¡± F¨¹rg??n observed, ¡°perhaps we can get a good strong stick and tie his leg to it. Doesn''t that work?¡±


    Grimmbros shrugged and agreed, "Can''t hurt." His Chicken-Scratching days had involved breaking things more often than fixing them, however, he had picked up a rudimentary understanding of emergency first-aid.


    ¡°Unless it hurts!¡± the elbh grumbled.


    ¡°Which I imagine it will,¡± returned the urgh-bane.


    The enthused renling was, nevertheless ambling off in the direction of the nearby woods with Grimmbros close behind, leaving the immobile elbh whimpering pessimistically in the grass.


    Both disappeared into the trees for a while. A distant rustling noise was heard and a loud snap, followed by a thud and some unkind laughter, soon both were returning triumphantly, stick in hand.


    "Look what Grimmbros got!" F¨¹rg??n called out jubilantly, waving the intended splint and doing a few quick, sword-like sweeps and swashbuckling stabs at a bug in the air out of excitement.


    Soon, the dejected elbh was precariously wobbling atop Grimmbros'' ample shoulders with a bit of stick stuck up one trouser leg, urgh-bane and renling feeling quite proud of themselves. In this manner the three travellers progressed, following the line of the woods for a while before the elbh stopped them. ¡°Someone¡¯s there,¡± he said.


    At the very edge of the treeline, a cloaked figure silently stood as if a natural aspect of the lush frondescence surrounding him.


    ¡°Oi, he looks dubious,¡± F¨¹rg??n muttered, but Grimm was already striding purposefully toward the stranger and so the renling followed uncertainly behind, registering further objections under his breath in case of a later need to say ¡®I told you so¡¯.


    ¡°Ho!¡± Grimm called as the figure stepped forward out of the cover of the trees to meet them.


    ¡°Hunting?¡± the stranger asked, rather knowingly.


    ¡°Who¡¯s asking?¡± the urgh-bane challenged.


    ¡°He is,¡± Furguin pointed out, wondering why that wasn¡¯t obvious to everyone. The figure grasped a long metal-tipped spear in his hand and wore the kind of boots that looked all purposeful and serious. Grimm strode to within a few yards of the newcomer and stared him directly in the eye.


    ¡°You seek a foul creature in possession of an important item,¡± the voice issued from the shadow of the heavy grey cowl, ¡°It heads north. You are not the only ones that appear to be in pursuit.¡±


    ¡°We don''t want any fowl features!¡± Furguin interjected, ¡°You head north!¡±


    ¡°And who exactly might you be?¡± Grimm enquired.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Furguin chimed in from behind Grimm, ¡°Who exactly might you be? Exactly?¡±


    ¡°Primate, in exile, of Tullgotha, Kapucha to the Capuchin monks.* I saw your quarry pass this way.¡±


    * The Capuchin monks were held in great respect in the city of Tullgotha, many having taken the solemn oath of incoherence.


    *****


    Shuffling uneasily within his coat of webs, the dream shifted again and Razzles found himself sitting at a school desk strewn with charts, papers and maps. He saw his name written on one. Why? Why would someone write his name? Why did it matter? For a while he thought he was alone, caught in a solitary shaft of dusty light about to be tested on something for which he hadn¡¯t prepared.* His stomach twisted into a tight knot. But he was not alone, across from him at what seemed, at the same time, both unrealistically afar off and uncomfortably close, a committee of individuals appeared to be discussing his future, committing him to pursuits beyond his capabilities.


    * This was a recurring dream for Razzles, he would be back in school surrounded by knohmlets, however, he would always be his current age and unable to recall any of the information he was supposed to have studied. He would toss and turn, becoming hot and anxious before waking in a cold sweat. He also had dreams about flying, but he was never able to get more than a foot or two above the ground and his beard would invariably catch in something like a bramble or a thistle causing him to awaken with a startling bump.


    At a wooden lectern, a disgruntled Grimmbros was gesticulating and demanding an explanation as to why the negligent knohm didn¡¯t appear to have a plan. To his right the cloud lady kept giving him odd ultimatums regarding a long journey and telling him he could be sent off at any time; did he have the right visor and did he have his bags packed? He didn¡¯t. Norris was there too, but appeared to have fainted, whilst Ebore stood hands on hips, evidently expecting Razzles to assist her in some manner that would clearly strain his back.


    Again, the flustered knohm¡¯s head was spinning, his neck hurt and the expectations upon him were too great. F¨¹rg??n, was once more providing a stirring score. The renling seemed to have progressed to full symphonic mode now; he was dancing on the classroom globe, his sonic sources all aquiver, a piece of chalk gripped by a scrawny hand as he manoeuvred it like a conductor¡¯s baton emphasising each note. He was clearly performing some stirring, dramatic overtures with bombastic flow and heaving grandeur. Grimmbros reached over to grip Razzles¡¯ elbow, which made it hurt badly, pressing for elucidation, causing him to shrink back with uncharacteristic annoyance crying, ¡°Get your hands off me you dim, dirty ape!¡±


    Then the dreams abruptly ended. Blackness flooded in like the thickest ink poured into water. Just the echoing sound of silent music on an imaginary wind: da, da da daah - dah - da, da da daaah!


    *****


    At the edge of the woods, Grimmbros questioned the cowled figure, ¡°Well, Kapucha of Tullgotha, how exactly do you know about our... quarry? What do you know about this ¡®item¡¯ and this beest?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, primate monkey man! And those fowl things!¡± the confused renling added.


    ¡°Just that it passed this way, clutching something clearly not belonging to it. You¡¯re off the road and from the way he has been peering into the grass you look like you''re tracking something. Am I right?"


    "Don''t tell him," F¨¹rg??n hissed, "I don''t like it!" He especially didn¡¯t like being seen looking at grass and seeing nothing but an assortment of colourful bugs and animal droppings by someone who might know better.


    "You''re heading the wrong way. You need to go north, through these very woods at my back." The Kapucha didn''t wait for a reaction, instead he paced off along the tree line in the general direction of the toll bridge or what was left of it. Perhaps he was headed for the city beyond.


    Grimmbros and F¨¹rg??n watched his departing back for a while and then looked at each other. They turned and peered into the mass of endless trees; the woods looked dense, overgrown. F¨¹rg??n didn''t like it, the bugs hadn¡¯t indicated a need to ramble the woodlands, although the droppings were ambiguous, but then he didn¡¯t like to examine them too closely anyway.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like it. Who does he think he is, hanging out with a bunch of monkeys doesn¡¯t give him...¡±


    ¡°There''s a path!¡± Grimmbros interrupted, ¡°Look! There! Let''s get going. The more space we can put between ourselves and that lot back there the better. Those reprobates aren''t likely to let things lie.¡±


    F¨¹rg??n knew he was right, sooner or later Ignatious and Egmord would find a way to cross the river and it would likely take more than some impressively displaced underwear to keep them at bay next time.


    The path through the woods actually looked quite bright and inviting with the sun stabbing through the foliage, dappling the way with warm light. Butterflies and colourful beetles fluttered and scurried out of the way as the travellers entered. Bluebells spread a carpet of hazy violet as far as the eye could see.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t so bad,¡± the renling chirped, his spirits rising, "hidden among the trees and on our way again!¡±


    ¡°Makes me almost want to wax lyrical,¡± Grimmbros rumbled with more than a touch of sarcasm.


    ¡°Trust you to want to whack something. Where did you go? You know, when you vanished that time?¡±


    ¡°I''ll whack you in a minute. What do you mean? When I tested out the device at Tullgotha?¡±


    ¡°Tested? Fiddled with it more like. Yeah, then. Look, you''re walking all over the bluebells!¡±


    ¡°What do you expect, the path''s too small! I just vanished, alright?¡± Grimm didn¡¯t know where he¡¯d gone when he accidentally triggered the device and the woman he''d seen made him uncomfortable.


    ¡°You know, you two are almost as annoying as all these swarming mosquitoes,¡± observed the elbh.


    ¡°You want to see annoying?¡± retorted the renling. ¡°Hang round long enough, you''ll see annoying.¡±


    F¨¹rg??n contemplated filling his air sacs to deliver a withering whistle, but restrained himself in the knowledge that his was not a craft to be employed lightly. Grimmbros saw the look on F¨¹rg??n¡¯s face and cuffed him roughly across the back of the head. The renling''s whale-like screech would send birds flying in all directions, alerting pursuers and pursuees. F¨¹rg??n gave a hurt look at the lack of appreciation for his self control.

 Chapter Two

    It wasn¡¯t long before the trio came to a fork in the path. F¨¹rg??n made a show of checking which side of the trees the moss was growing on,* searching for ¡®tell-tale spores¡¯ and consulting the undersides of various toadstools. Next, he pulled some crumpled papers from a fold deep within his cloak. The renling shaded his eyes, pointed at the angle of the light piercing the leaf canopy and looked back at the papers. Grimmbros looked unconvinced when the decision was taken to go left but acquiesced with an unconcerned shrug.


    A little further through the carpet of blooms and tangles of twigs and lichens there was another path. The renling frowned, but this time the map reading and sign searching was dispensed with a bit more rapidly and less thoroughly and the group turned right. Subsequent choices were increasingly brief and casual with only a token glance at pocket or bark until it was obvious that F¨¹rg??n had no tangible orientation skills and nobody really had the faintest clue of the way to go.


    * This was a skill that the renling had learned from Razzles, since the knohm had explained to him once that you could always tell where a knohm came from by noting which side his beard was growing on. Knohm beards didn¡¯t grow well in the shade and so a knohm with a northerly beard was most likely from somewhere south of his current location. Therefore if you followed a knohm he would lead you home. See endnote #1


    ¡°Why ever did that thing just fall right out of the sky?¡± F¨¹rg??n asked as he gave up tracking for a while and sat chewing on a toadstool. ¡°Do you think someone knew we would be there? And what about when you came back and we kept changing places? That was really weird, and then that beest turned up!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I''d been thinking about that. I''m not a great believer in coincidences. Something drew it to us. If we catch it and get our device back, maybe we can find out.¡± Grimm was moving again.


    ¡°Our device? Wait a minute, we haven''t decided whose it is.¡± The renling jumped up and scampered behind. ¡°It was Razzles who was...¡± he stopped, swatting at a flying insect, not yet ready to tell Grimm of their quest. Grimm, though, was no longer listening.


    ¡°Oooh, will you look at that!¡± he said in a hushed, clearly awed tone.


    ¡°Look at what?¡± puzzled F¨¹rg??n, eyeing the rocks and the small lake that lay in a clearing ahead of them. He scanned the murky green water and the whispering reeds swaying in clusters at the water¡¯s edge dotted with swarming mosquitoes. The big urgh-bane stood motionless, seemingly rooted to the spot. Beaming sunlight streaked the scene and birdsong echoed from tree to tree. It was a pleasant spot, yet the elbh and the renling wondered what it was about this pool of green water between the trees, that so enraptured the urgh-bane.


    None of them, the urgh-bane included, had noticed, however, the one small, bright-red mosquito that had alighted on Grimmbros'' neck. This one did not buzz. Its tiny feet had spread its minuscule load over the urgh-bane''s skin without betraying its presence; the little creature carefully stepped its way into the urgh-bane''s ear canal, painstakingly avoiding the impressive stalactites and stalagmites of wax until it reached a clear, soft spot, then it subtly, inserted its thread-like proboscis into the urgh-bane''s flesh: the infection was almost immediate.


    "It''s beautiful!" Grimmbros breathed, staring at the water, its ripples meandering hypnotically.


    "It''s what now?" the renling asked, struggling to see what Grimm saw.


    "Beautiful." Grimm paced down to the water¡¯s edge, off-loaded the elbh and lightly hopped onto a rock projecting from the water, then on to another and then with a final broad stride he sat down on a large boulder surrounded by water about fifteen feet out from the bank.


    "What is?" F¨¹rg??n yelled. But Grimm didn¡¯t look inclined to answer, or to move any time soon.


    The elbh limped off to sit on a rock of his own, back in the grass, whilst F¨¹rg??n watched helplessly. He began to feel uneasy in the face of this turn in Grimmbros'' behaviour; he certainly had no inkling as to the influence of the mosquito to which the urgh-bane was now, subconsciously subjected.


    "Let''s stop here for the night," Grimm called back over his shoulder without turning his head.


    The renling, sensing trouble brewing, suggested, "But there¡¯s still hours to go before sundown. Wouldn¡¯t it be good to keep going and make sure we leave big, bad and ugly well behind?" But Grimmbros pretended not to hear and simply swirled the tips of his toes in the pool.


    F¨¹rg??n didn¡¯t want to waste any more time, "Come on," he tried, "I''ll bet the forest doesn''t go on much further. Look there are some untrampled flowers over there."


    It was evidently pointless and for a few moments the renling narrowed his eyes, considering whether his friend might be still under the influence of jam or marmalade or some other evil preservative; he never thought to look into his mate''s ear, not that he could do so from his position on the bank, and even if he did, he probably would not have wished to. The sight of decades'' worth of untended wax formations was more than enough to have bothered even the stoutest of stout constitutions. It was bad enough having to look at the outside of the behemoth, let alone have to perform an investigation of this hulk''s inner parts.


    ¡°I really do not think that I could go any farther my fellows. I may just live here, as I truly could not care for travelling any more.¡±


    F¨¹rg??n sensed the resignation in Grimm¡¯s sentiments and decided to change tack.


    ¡°Look, we can¡¯t stop here, we¡¯ve a quest to do. Come on, let¡¯s keep moving. Come on. Come on.


    Come on... Come on... Come on! Come on! Come ON? Ohhhhh!¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t you picture it,¡± Grimmbros mused, ¡°A quiet little hovel just there among the tussocks for me and a delightful burrow for you F¨¹rg??n. What more could one ask? You could have your own personal little spot under those trees. Nice bit of gorse growing round your hole.


    Something tells me I need to just give it all up. Let it all go. No more expectations, no hangers-on, no hassle, no wandering, no nonsense. Nothing but peace and quiet. You know how good that is?¡±


    ¡°No...¡± the renling was lost for words. ¡°Just, no!¡± was the best persuasive argument he could manage. The elbh looked at Grimmbros from his seat on a rock with a mixture of disappointment and gathering concern. He looked at the renling, expecting him to do something dynamic. Instead, the renling just started to stomp on the ground and kick random plants with disgust.


    The elbh, his last remaining shreds of admiration for renling-kind shedding faster than the dandruff on the renling¡¯s head, turned back to the urgh-bane whose energy and drive was visibly dissipating from his very being like a swarm of cockroaches before a flaming torch. Had his leg not been broken by a fleeing oafe and made worse by the inept insertion of a hazel stalk, the elbh would have skipped over and given the urgh-bane the biggest kick up the butt that he could summon, in hope of jolting some enthusiasm back into the colossus. As it was, he gave him his most withering scowl and then just sat there glowering in disapproval at his inert back. It was obvious that no-one was going anywhere for the rest of that day.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    The night passed without any shift in the impasse. Grimmbros had refused to allow the making of a fire as it might ¡®upset the delicacy of the ecosystem¡¯ and no, ¡®heaving a load of manky bog water on it if it got out of hand and burnt the surrounding filth¡¯ was not - apparently - ¡®the point.¡¯ Besides, he also could not be bothered to gather any firewood. F¨¹rg??n had pointedly slept on the far side of the swamp after tramping (to try and annoy Grimmbros) a path that skirted the lake.


    Next morning, when the renling had given up hoping for Grimmbros to follow him, he returned, stamping on foliage and kicking an unobservant hedgehog into the lake. His already morose expression fell further when he spotted the urgh-bane lying flat on his back in the grass on the spot of ground for his envisioned hovel. He just sprawled there like a half-deflated walrus. F¨¹rg??n approached until his shadow fell on Grimm.


    Seeing the black look on the renling''s glowering face, Grimmbros offered, "Look, I don''t know that I can''t be unbothered with this questing lark (he hoped that his multiple negatives might cloud things somewhat), but you''ll be dragging and nudging all the way to... where is it we''re supposed to be going?"


    "Henrod Scree, The Soglands - the forest..." F¨¹rg??n slumped. "No one cares. No one cares!" he moaned. "You''re not coming are you?" The renling gave a further sigh of resignation. "Where''s that elbh? What does he want to do?"


    "Oh, halfway through the night he said something like ''I''m just going out, I may be some time.'' He''ll be along soon I imagine, but then again, this is a wood, and you know elbhs when they get in woods."


    Turning reluctantly, F¨¹rg??n stamped off once more along the path he had made around the swamp, as he disappeared into the undergrowth, Grimmbros could just hear him muttering, "If you want anything done you''ve got to do it yourself. Living in a swamp!" Grimmbros lay on the soft mossy grass, his hands outstretched, his eyes, unfocused, floated about the canopy above. He took the opportunity to evaluate his recent rovings. It didn''t take long until he arrived at the conclusion he knew was inevitable; he really did not want to be here at all, but just couldn''t muster the will to go anywhere either. Besides he was beginning to experience a rather unpleasant sensation of vertigo.*


    * The secretion injected into Grimm¡¯s ear by the mosquito was currently enjoying a picturesque cruise of the urgh-banes meandering ear canals.


    Wherever the renling was going, whatever he was up to, he just could not bring himself to care anymore, far less get up the energy to go with him. He rolled to lean on one elbow, waiting for the spinning sensation to stop. It was like lying on a children''s roundabout.


    "I shall waste my time here for evermore!" he declared to nobody in particular, lurching qualmishly to his knees. "I shall do nothing.¡± He was aware that he wasn''t making much sense, but just couldn''t understand why every time he thought of something positive to do, he just felt the overwhelming urge to quash it.


    He forced himself to his feet, dusted himself off, and strode with a faltering gait to do something potentially purposeful. His view of this new-found prospect amid despondency was bordering on the philosophic, and he considered that if he was to stay here in this little quiet haven, away from all that beest nonsense, he might as well make the most of it. The sun was still prodding the lake with lazy fingers and the breeze turned to a southerly direction, knots of tiny gnats were dancing into tangles beneath the shadows of branches. Grimm sat down on a fresh spot of grass. That¡¯s what he would do, he would have a sleep. If he could be bothered. Maybe make a ¡®keep out¡¯ sign.


    F¨¹rg??n''s stamping soon lost its energy, burnt out quickly like a few sheets of parchment in a tin pail. Parchments... Those were what drove him on, those and that bizarre appearance of the cloud lady. What did she want? Come to that, who even was she? He fingered his pages, deep inside a pocket within a pocket. Scraps were all he had left now. The two books from the chest in the Forbidden Forest were more than just intriguing tales and beguiling histories.


    He scowled, recalling the day when he had fled through the alleyways of Tullgotha chased by rats. He should never have allowed himself to be seen reading outdoors. He cursed himself for not examining his treasures in secret, underground, in a darkened burrow. At least he had managed to tear these few pages from the books before they were forcibly taken from him. F¨¹rg??n mooched around the woodlands, recalling afresh the shock of the dream books. One of them had described the duplicate device falling from the sky. Had foretold it! Then it had happened, exactly like the book said. That was no mere deja-vu! He couldn''t stop now. For a second time, he contemplated going on alone. At least this time there was no snow to stop him. Perhaps the cloud lady had given up on them?


    F¨¹rg??n decided to give Grimmbros one more try. Perhaps he just needed the right encouragement. Striding up purposefully he poked the urgh-bane''s stomach roughly with a stick and jumped back, ready to run. ¡°Come on Grimm! Someone truly Chacky-da-da or whatever it is would never give in to a thieving beest.¡± but Grimmbros just grunted, clearly devoid of any urge for vengeance. Why had he changed? Give up. Go on. In the end, you¡¯re always on your own.


    The ground on the far side of the swamp rose strongly and the disheartened renling trudged up through the wildwood. At the top, a panoramic vista spread out before his eyes. Immediately ahead he could see the forest dropping away down the far side of the rise, the broad oaks, beeches and sycamores thinning, giving way to more delicate birches and blackthorns at the forest''s edge and the valley floor. Beyond, an extensive grassy plain rolled like a green blanket over sleepy oafes, going on for miles. Further on, undulating moorlands topped by stone outcrops lifted the terrain once more.


    Eventually, where the sky looked darker, the rocky crags of Henrod Scree squatted grey and angular atop the rolling shades of green. F¨¹rg??n knew that The Soglands lay on the far side of that horizon, an uninviting wild land, worse yet, Bogmire to the east - quicker to cross, but a place of grim legend and disquieting tales. Sitting down at the bole of an old horse chestnut tree the renling gazed out at the enormity of the land ahead of him and sighed. Could he face such a journey alone?


    He reached into his cloak and pulled out some folded papers. There was the map that Razzles had seen that night back near the bridge; and the paper that the lady in the sky had given them. He ran his finger slowly from Tullgotha at the bottom of the map upward past the oafe toll bridge into the


    trees; they didn''t look much on the map. He glanced back down at the forest they represented, for a moment hoping that Grimmbros might emerge having had a change of heart, ready to carry on once more. Or maybe even Razzles, having somehow caught up and regained his spirits. Nothing disturbed the stillness. Heavy-hearted, he turned his attention to the diagrams on the second document: why did the woman in the air want them to get this thing anyway? What had she said? Find the source of time? What did that have to do with this queer egg thing with legs? When the beest had made off with it, he knew where it was heading - north - the Forbidden Forest. His eyes returned to the map and wandered along to the Forbidden Forest. It looked a lifetime away.


    But it was going there because that''s what the last page foretold. That was where it ended. The Forest.


    This was an ill-fated quest. Where in the world had the cloud woman sent them to get the egg? They had had the egg device in their hands, but lost it to that big-horned beest - where had it come from? Setting off in pursuit felt optimistic at first, however, the bridge changed that, Grimmbros nearly didn''t make it out, then Razzles was gone. Now a gang of heavies was after them. The forest inevitably turned out to be another obstacle - it had taken the elbh, had it claimed Grimmbros? Why did everything have to be so hard? As these glum thoughts swirled around the renling''s mind like the amassing of evening mists, a blue butterfly fluttered out of the sunshine and alighted on his knee. The brightness of this small creature lifted F¨¹rg??n''s spirits and he decided to wait for a while to see if Grimmbros might yet decide to rejoin him. Seeing Razzles come skipping out of the undergrowth was certainly too much to expect.


    Settling back into the deep moss carpet, F¨¹rg??n allowed his eyes to close, enjoying the caress of the sun on his skin. Warm and gentle, he could feel light beams on his arms and face. A butterfly shadow danced across his closed eyelids, a musky fragrance touched his nostrils and he drifted into sleep.

 Chapter Three

    A small crowd had gathered around a little, grey stone house in Tullgotha. They stared as a hooded member of the City Watch hauled out a very limp knohm enshrouded in cobwebs and somewhat pale of face. One foot dangled as he was dragged, trailing along the ground creating a feeble, disjointed jangle from a bell on his shoe. The inert body was slung onto a low hand cart pulled by a large, grey rock oafe* and Razzles was dragged off through the narrow streets to the city sanatorium.


    * Unlike oaves in general, rock oaves are great, grey creatures that don¡¯t grow much in the way of moss, fungus or other floral elements about their persons, only a smattering of green or yellow lichens. They are naturally belligerent and ructious, and not suited to normal oafely duties however, suitably drugged with the right blend of mold and sludge a rock oafe can be an almost ideal beast of burden. See endnote #2


    Sometime later, in the ¡®completely-out-patients¡¯ wing of the sanatorium, Auger the apothecary peered down at the body through his complex, red medical lenses, rimmed by rotating dials and intricate scales and made various ¡®hmmff¡¯ noises. He applied assorted tinctures and unctions, poked relevant orifices and made a few scribbly notes.


    "Dysentresse," he finally announced to his disturbingly hunched assistant, "Worst case I''ve seen."


    Indeed, Razzles hadn''t moved or reacted in any way since he had been discovered in his web-festooned home by a nosey neighbour. All of Apothecary Auger''s efforts had produced no favourable outcomes.


    "They go like this in the end. First, depression or drowsiness, then they fall asleep somewhere and if you don''t get in soon enough it''s pretty much impossible to wake them."


    He tried a smart slap on the knohm''s face. When this proved ineffective he put a wad of fabric up the patient''s nose and lit it, waiting to see if the tingle of flame on a nostril might do the trick.


    "Terrible malady," he opined, "Some disorders affect the body, some the mind. This one seems to ravage the very spirit of a creature. No one really knows what causes it." The assistant listened patiently, but showed absolutely no sign that he either heard or took the slightest bit of interest. "Some say," Auger went on, "that we all have many different forms in many different worlds and dysentresse comes when one of our selves loses all interest and gives up. Terrible affliction."


    Auger tried spinning suddenly, without warning and yelling ¡®wah!¡¯ into the knohm''s ear, whilst waggling his hands right over his eyes. Still nothing. Another slap maybe?


    ¡°Completely disentresse dead.¡±


    The pair eventually moved off, leaving Razzles breathing faintly but unresponsive.


    ¡°We''ll bag him up and keep an eye on him. If he starts to exhibit any disturbing symptoms put him in the basement.¡± Those would seem to be Auger''s last words on the subject.


    *****


    Grimmbros slept an unnatural sleep, a whole day passing over him until a shadow of uneasiness swept through his deep dream. Initially, he slept on regardless, however, this intruding emotion would not leave his unconscious mind, it swelled to a niggling crescendo until he could, eventually, no longer ignore it. Something deep within the urgh-bane''s subconscious brain hauled him out of his somnolent state with a violent lurch. He sat bolt upright, fists clenched and face bent into a scowl; the force of his resurrection was a surprise to himself, let alone the two elbhs that were presently coming to the end of a trajectory* into which they had been launched from the startled rise of the urgh-bane.


    * Grimm was used to folks entering into trajectories about his muscular form, such flights often being followed up with a bit of offensive holding or intentional grounding, whatever gained a few more yards or resulted in putting something or someone ''out''.


    Grimmbros rubbed and then tried to focus his bleary eyes on the two tiny creatures as they tumbled and rolled across the grass beyond his feet. One crashed with a whumpf against a stone, legs in the air, and head contorted to an awkward angle against his elevated torso. The other, his face a mask of horror, glided face down through the lush green blades, to the edge of the lake, finally to disappear over the bank with a pebble-sized sploosh!


    ¡°Am I having some kind of episode?¡± Grimmbros asked of the general environment to which he had been aggressively summoned.


    He still had a residual feeling of being in some kind of danger; but as his senses mustered, he realised that he was still by the tranquil pond, and his assailants were, apparently, little more than two flying clowns, no more threat than a couple of half-decent breakfast sausages. He relaxed his hands and rubbed his eyes once more.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked, ¡°And why the Rimbaldicus were you climbing on me?¡±


    The answer, to his further surprise, came from his right.


    ¡°It is me, Mr Grimmbros, Sir: the..." he hesitated for a moment inwardly annoyed to find himself going along with his own namelessness, "Elbh!¡± With a startled flinch, Grimm spun round to face the voice, re-clenching a fist in the process. ¡°Hey!¡± the elbh shouted, backing away a few feet in a hurried scamper. ¡°Calm down, Mr Grimm, Sir, it is me, see?¡± The little elbh held his hands out in a wide gesture of revelation, simultaneously displaying his injured leg, which appeared now to have a much nicer stick, much more effectively attached. ¡°No need to go all urgh-bane on me!¡±


    ¡°Elbh?¡± Grimmbros asked; confused: ¡°Really? What are you doing back here?¡±


    ¡°Trying to help you, Mr Grimm, Sir,¡± he pleaded, eyes still fixed on the clenched house-sized fist. ¡°Why? What help could I possibly procure from you? If you really wanted to help, then you would¡¯ve left me to finish my well-earned slumber: I was in a happy place...¡± Grimmbros¡¯ comments trailed off with a forlorn tone of disappointment, echoing the thought: ¡°a happy place¡­ happy...¡±


    ¡°You have been bitten Mr Grimmbros, Sir, you have been poisoned!¡±


    ¡° Bitten? Poisoned? What are you talking about?" What are you talking about?"


    The answer came back from his right: two more elbhs stood before him now, one decidedly drenched, the other, painfully bruised. The wet elbh, still dripping from his recent rendezvous with the pond, was the vocal one.


    ¡°It is very simple, Sirrr.¡± The voice of this little fellow was almost condescending, a little arrogant and most definitely authoritative: "You have been bitten by the despondicus mosquito, a native dweller of secluded waterrr bodies, such as this; a deadly little beast; worthy of serrrious consideration indeed! And you, Sirrr," he pointed rather indelicately at Grimmbros, "would surely have been its latest victim if it werre not for his deft diagnosis!¡± he thumbed at the elbh to his side who, Grimmbros noticed, wore a pair of small round glasses perched on the end of his nose which had one nostril oddly bigger than the other.


    For some reason, deep emotions began to swell within Grimmbros again. A sense of threat; he felt completely incapable of suppressing it. The realisation that he was unable to control this foreboding sensation caused him even more internal turmoil: alarm began to brew behind this strange taste of danger teaming up to drown the urgh-bane in a sheer tidal wave of panic.


    His heart became a great cauldron of boiling anxiety, massive palpitations thundering throughout his sweating body. He had no idea why he should be feeling this way; it was as if someone was forcing these feelings on him; as if someone was implanting their fears into his mind.


    ¡°These overwhelming feelings of despondency that you have been wallowing in: the rrreluctance that you have manifested to leave this grrrotesque little pond; it is all a symptom of being bitten by the despondicus mosquito,¡± the vociferous one revealed. As he lectured, Grimm was further unnerved by the fact that this dampened one never actually made eye contact, instead he seemed constantly to be looking at a spot near the top of Grimmbros¡¯ forehead.


    Grimmbros, felt a heaving urge to tread on the elbhs, kick a few squirrels and run and hide.* Instead, he just touched his forehead to see if anything was on there.


    ¡°And you have been injected with the venom known as ¡®despairrricum¡¯.¡± This final drawn-out word was accompanied by much waggling of fingers and the improbably high raising of one eyebrow and deep lowering of the other. The urgh-bane was a battlefield of fight versus flight. He was struggling with all his willpower to prevent himself succumbing to the flight stimuli, fighting to hold on to just enough composure to force himself to listen to the elbh¡¯s explanation. He couldn¡¯t help feel though, as bizarre as it sounded, that someone, somewhere, really did not want him to hang around to hear this.


    * The thought of kicking squirrels briefly took him back to his childhood days pretending to be a Chicken Scratching hero with the other kids. Squirrels... they went a long way.


    ¡°This little crrritterrr," announced the elbh apparently to Grimmbros'' hair, "secrrretes the chemical directly into your blood strream, which then travels swiftly to your brain, and it is this that creates the overbearrring unwillingness to go anywhere else.¡± The fast-drying elbh seemed quite comfortable as he settled into lecture mode.


    He peered down the length of his large, pointed nose, which hung like a rock precipice over the bristling forest of a moustache that grew profusely under its protective shade. The elbh wore an orderly criss-cross of belts and pouches over a khaki uniform that was so crisply pressed that, even though he was drenched from head to foot, was still in impeccable order. On his head he wore a small conical helmet with an olive-green sash tied about, and in his hand was a large, ornate bow.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°It is imperative, you see, Sirrr, for the mosquito to keep large crrreaturrres," he looked Grimmbros up and down knowingly at this juncture before returning his focus somewhere above the urgh-bane''s eyebrows, "such as yourself, as near to its brrreeding grrround as possible." Grimmbros felt an urge to check his hair at the elbh''s errant gaze. "This is so as to provide food for its larvae, you understand. A marvellous achievement! By causing an overrrwhelming feeling of despondency, the pathetic victim, in this case, you Sirrr, is completely drained of all motivation, and so remains rrriveted to the vicinity. A handy local larder of sustenance all ready for the hungry little chavies to satiate their rrravenous desires."


    Though officer-like in appearance, the elbh was decidedly professor-like in manner, and he certainly was not shy about professing his admiration for the troublesome creature, and its offspring. As he babbled on, Grimmbros felt another assault launched by the massed ranks of the flight-brigade against his dithering determination to hang about, but he needed to see if anything useful would come out of this biology lesson. Besides, he was somewhat distracted as the second elbh periodically made odd whistling noises through his lesser nostril.


    ¡°What is more, unlike other all mosquitoes, Despondicus does not fly off once it has bitten you, oh no! And this is the real beauty of the beast: it stays attached," the elbh grabbed his own ear at this point, "injecting more and more venom as the need arrrises," this he accompanied by tugs at his lobe, "to ensure that you rrremain until the larvae hatch from their eggs, and can then feed off of your sleeping body. Then, and only then, Sirrr, will it release its bite, retrrract its magnificent proboscis, and fly off.¡± The elbh had produced for this exclamation, from somewhere on his person, a long cane, and used it dramatically to demonstrate the flight path of the triumphant mosquito.


    Grimmbros realised that he was not half as impressed with this bug as the uniformed, professor-like elbh was, and as the flight-battalion had planted another flag of territorial victory within his heart, he seemed determined now, more than ever, to lash a wild kick at the rambling midget and run to the lake. His mind was sufficiently derailed from this course, however, by the sudden change in dialogue and some more disconcerting nasal whistling.


    The elbh that had been at the bridge chipped in at this point, "That awful Norris creature used to come here to collect mosquitoes for her horrible jam. That''s what made it red you know!" he pulled a face of disgust at that thought.


    ¡°We were just about to remove the bug from your ear canal, when you awoke and threw us off.¡± This time, the battered, semi-nasally challenged elbh spoke. He had, what can only be described as, a medical appearance about him. He was wearing a pale tunic, although now heavily soiled and a little tattered, and carried a small, dark rucksack with a big clasp on the top. His little round glasses glinted in the sunlight, as he brandished, sword-like, a bent pair of tweezers. ¡°If we do not remove the mosquito soon Sir, you will stay here, and you will die here."


    ¡°Actually, I might add,¡± injected the professor elbh, ¡°that you will be eaten alive!¡± the eyebrows once more scattered in disarray. Grimmbros thought long and hard, mostly hard, about his predicament. On the one hand, he considered just poking a finger into the ear in question to squash the wretched insect, followed by a bout of random small forest creature abuse and elbh booting, but he didn''t know if he could be bothered.


    "Might I suggest you lie down on one side and we''ll get tweezering," the medically oriented elbh offered with a quick double click into the air of his implement. Notions of resistance arose in Grimmbros'' mind like water in a partially blocked lavatory before draining away with a flush of pessimism. He acquiesced and the deed was efficiently done.


    "Now, you won''t feel much difference on the rrrremoval of the offending wee beasty," cautioned the one that Grimmbros began to think of as Major Elbh.


    "No indeed," enjoined Doctor Elbh waving the extracted insect, "However, I have just the tonic. Have a slug of this,¡± he offered. Grimm expected something liquid from a bottle, instead, the elbh thrust something soft and chewy into the urgh-bane''s mouth, "This should brighten you up a bit."


    ¡°What is it? Grimmbros asked masticating obediently, noting the thick, juicy content of the rather leathery gum stimulating his taste buds and sliding down his throat with a bitter after-taste.


    "King bog slug," came the reply."It exudes a potent chemical that, not only acts as an antidote to the mosquito bite, but should fill you with a verve and ardour rarely experienced."


    Grimmbros paused in his jaw movements for a moment, before making the facial equivalent of a shrug and continuing, "Not bad, I''ve tasted better."


    Major Elbh asked Grimmbros about his purpose and destination beyond the woods. On hearing that the urgh-bane had encountered a dark ¡®beest¡¯ and done battle with it near Tullgotha, the elbhs were visibly interested. Even more so when told that the beest had escaped with an egg-like device of unknown origin.


    "That beest passed through these very woods some days ago,¡± Medical Elbh grumbled.


    "That device is evil," chimed in Major Elbh, "It is not a thing of this world and can brrrring nae good!" There was no hope of eyebrow reconciliation at this latest departure.


    As Grimmbros turned back and forth from one excited small person to the next, he felt something of the old chicken scratching champion returning. His spirits were brightening at the prospect of a smiting of some kind and he felt an urge to be on the move.


    "Hunt down that beest and rrrretrrrrieve the object of its intent! It needs to be in good hands." By this time Grimmbros was so enthused he was on his feet and pumping up his muscles in a series of flamboyant poses and poultry-inspired stretches before jogging off around the swamp to follow the path that F¨¹rg??n had taken.


    *****


    F¨¹rg??n''s head felt heavy as he gradually became conscious.. Eyes still closed, he lay unmoving, reluctant to disturb the stillness of doing nothing, not wanting to move even an eyelid. The brightness of the blue butterfly was gone, but it was alright, alright being alone. Just as well. In the end, don''t you always end up alone? He allowed himself a few moments of bitter moping before realising that he wasn¡¯t actually very comfortable.


    The sun¡¯s warmth felt clammy, his skin tingled hotly, perhaps he was beginning to burn. Yet he felt disinclined to move despite the acidic heat. He became aware of a musty scent hanging like cobwebs in his airways. How long had he been asleep? Drawing a deep breath, he stifled a cough and noticed a shadow that was distinctly not a butterfly passing over his face, a slinking movement curling in deliberate slow motion. He opened his eyes, but they were blurry from sleep, a fusty thickness making it hard to breathe.


    With a blink, he went to raise a hand to his brow, but a clinging stickiness pulled at his arm. Eyes now wide open, F¨¹rg??n saw a tapering, sickly, pink tendril lined with rubbery suckers swaying just inches above his face. As he twisted his body in an attempt to sit up, something muscular, the colour of dead flesh, coiled and tightened about his torso like the arm of an octopus.


    F¨¹rg??n fought a bout of panic flushing through a skull seemingly clogged with glue. He was enfolded by a growth of sinuous, pink tentacles each longer than himself and as fat as his head. The more he struggled, the more the things squeezed, exuding a transparent slime that dangled in ugly, viscous strings wherever they made contact.


    He felt his body being lifted up by fibrous limbs far more powerful than his own feeble arms with little hands that ineffectually snatched at grass and moss in an attempt to prevent whatever was happening. From the corner of his eye he could make out a leathery sac at the base of the tentacles where they were fattest, a lipped cyst that twitched and spasmed before belching out a thick puff of ashen spores. F¨¹rg??n instinctively understood that he shouldn¡¯t allow the stagnant cloud into his lungs, but a sudden yanking clasp at his stomach forced an intake of breath that left him choking and gasping.


    The spores clogging his airways, F¨¹rg??n knew that the fight was draining out of him. His limbs drooped at his sides as the red fungus gathered in ever- tightening coils about his torso. There was nothing that he could do except lay back and gasp in the burning, squeezing grip.


    Allowing his arms and legs to relax, F¨¹rg??n tried to calm his panic and to assess his options. How long would it take for this thing to digest his body or render him unconscious? Days? Hours? He saw a stick at the base of the fungus tendrils - perhaps he could reach it, stab the thing with it.


    The sun gradually moved above the network of branches and a fan of bright beams abruptly cut though the foliage causing the renling to squint. Partially blinded by the light, F¨¹rg??n noticed a large dark orb above him in the canopy. Haloed by streaming brightness, it seemed to be growing slowly larger among the stabbing rays of the sun. No, not larger, closer, descending steadily toward him.


    The largest spider F¨¹rg??n had ever seen was lowering itself on a single thread directly over his face. He attempted to wriggle, but this again caused the fungus to tighten its coils. There was nothing that he could do except wait for the inevitable. He closed his eyes as the first exploratory touch of one of the spider''s feet brushed his cheek.


    The thing didn''t allow its weight to press on the red fungus, rather it hung on its thread, its feet probing, examining its quarry. As the creature leaned in, F¨¹rg??n lifted his head and could see its eyes: two big ones, shiny, liquid blood red, a number of smaller ones arrayed above the two.


    A pair of curving jaws tipped with needles parted as the thing arched in readiness. F¨¹rg??n winced, trying to lean out of reach. Then the great arachnid struck, scissoring into one of the fungal arms, causing all the suckers arrayed along its length to twitch in unison.


    As the bewildered renling gazed on, something moved beyond the spider, appearing to part the light beams that daggered through the foliage. A single stick, probing, reaching, edged toward the spider from behind. As it made contact with the spider''s bulbous abdomen, the spider froze, legs drawing inward. F¨¹rg??n¡¯s head rolled back, his neck unable to support it any longer.


    The stick poked forward again causing the spider to recoil jerkily a foot or so up its thread, twisting to face its assailant. There was a high sound, half scream, half gasp and the stick was flung, missing the spider by a good cubit, landing among a bunch of furred fern fiddleheads not far from F¨¹rg??n''s trailing right hand. He could hear rapid footfalls, as if running in panic.


    One by one, F¨¹rg??n felt the suckers clinging to his flesh slipping away, the fibrous arms becoming flaccid. The spider¡¯s bite must be venomous, aimed at stealing the fungus¡¯ prey. Squirming in an undignified wriggle, F¨¹rg??n slid from the great tendrils onto the moss below and rolled away as hard as he could.


    To his horror, as he turned, he saw the spider hurrying down in pursuit. He rolled harder, faster, legs kicking and arms scrabbling straight onto another ugly, red fungus, but his momentum carried him right over it before it could respond. It unfurled, rising up in ugly curls into the path of the spider, causing it to stop, uncertain, hesitant.


    This was enough, F¨¹rg??n summoned all his reserves, wobbled to his feet and began running in a drunken curve, all the while peering anxiously over his shoulder. To his surprise he crashed straight into the enormous thighs of someone running the opposite way. F¨¹rg??n recognised the faded orange, check pattern on the tight, yellow trousers before him as he gasped for breath. He looked up. Grimmbros looked down.


    The renling panted as he wiped slime and web threads from his face and arms. The urgh-bane glanced rapidly around as if expecting trouble to emerge from the foliage and then he looked back down again. F¨¹rg??n met his gaze before checking that nothing was following him. Grimm''s chest heaved and he appeared ruffled. F¨¹rg??n eyed him suspiciously. "Was that you back there?" he asked, narrowing his eyes."


    "Was what who, back where?" Grimm replied enigmatically. For a moment there was silence.


    The urgh-bane spat something brown and phlegm-like into the undergrowth and mumbled distractedly, ¡°Razzles should have one of them king slugs, that''d stop his moping.¡± He paused as if something needed to be said, but thought better of it. ¡° Come on then! Let''s get to motion. There''s a lot of ground to cover and much time to make up!¡± Grimm seemed to have lost all of the malaise that he had developed back at the swamp, if fact he seemed energised and twitchy, blinking frequently and breathing alarmingly quickly. His pupils were a lot larger too, almost filling his whole eye area. F¨¹rg??n was lost for words.

 Chapter Four

    ¡°I am not optimistic,¡± the medic elbh sighed.


    ¡°Beg your pardon! What¡¯rre you saying, Doc?¡± demanded Major Elbh.


    ¡°Look!¡± He proffered his tweezers just millimetres from the major¡¯s nose, waving them portentously. On the end of them was the body of what was once a dangerous bug. ¡°You see that?¡± he said.


    ¡°You only got the body. The head is still in there!¡± the major concluded.


    ¡°Not only is it still in there, it¡¯s not real. Look! It¡¯s mechanical.¡± He skipped about on the spot in frustration clenching his free fist and waving it at everyone and everything about him.


    ¡°What?!¡± screamed original Elbh. ¡°You said you¡¯d get it out! You said...¡±


    The leader of the small group tried to calm his young compatriot, ¡°Calm down now laddie, no one expected this.¡±


    ¡°It was most waxen in there,¡± Medical Elbh muttered bitterly.


    ¡°But why didn¡¯t you tell him when he was here, then you could have tried again? You made out that you had got it all! You let him go!¡±


    ¡°I know! I know¡­¡± Doc¡¯s voice trailed off, lacking conviction: ¡°He was big¡­ and, and very angry. I didn¡¯t think it wise to provoke him further.¡±


    Major Elbh arrived at a conclusion: ¡°This is not good at all! We must follow our patient and await a suitable opportunity to finish what we started. Come on, and bring the bunny mallet!¡±


    *****


    F¨¹rg??n quickly realised that Grimmbros was neither his usual self, nor was he to be hindered. The urgh-bane fidgeted, waiting for his companion to join him in a dash down through the thinning woodlands and out onto the open grassland below. "I thought you wanted to stay by your pond," the renling panted in an effort to keep up as the pair jogged through the last of the trees.


    "That was before the elbhs and the slugs," Grimmbros beamed. "They gave me a little bottle too! Something for my ear apparently!" He stopped and brandished the ornate little glass phial jiggling it significantly mere inches before the renling''s eyes. ¡°Look it sparkles!¡±


    "It would. I suppose they gave you husk-biscs too," F¨¹rg??n muttered, aware that elbhs were always handing out helpful little gifts like flavour-free lumps of what tasted like matted coconut hair that could allegedly sustain a full-grown pwiffue for months.


    "Nope. I''m fit to run for miles. That where we''re headed?" he added, nodding toward the grey tors over the green valley and distant moors."Yeah, the scree''s over there. Anyway, what do you mean ¡®elbhsss¡¯? I thought there was only one. There¡¯s not more of them now?"


    "Good men! Bit too smart and kickable, but know what they''re doing," Grimmbros partly explained.


    *****


    "What are we doing?" Original Elbh asked, "We''ll never catch them up, not with my leg, look at them!" The trio, hindered by the limping of Original Elbh, stood where shortly before F¨¹rg??n had lingered, gazing at the backs of the urgh-bane and renling who were now striding out onto the verdant expanse some distance below the woods. "Depends on how long the bog slug remains efficacious,¡± the elbh with the medical appearance observed. If he keeps chewing it long enough they could be in with a chance."


    *****


    Not too far away, three bigger figures strode between the trees.


    ¡°They leave a trail a knohm could follow,¡± Egmord snorted, loping carelessly through the bluebells.


    ¡°We''ll have ¡®em soon and we¡¯ll be ready this time,¡± Ignatious growled.


    ¡°Yeah - no underpants!¡± Ebore added, ¡°Now what can he do?¡± Egmord gave the oafe a look of angry disgust and reached out to swat him with a vicious cuff, but Ebore saw it coming and ducked, giving a satisfied ¡°Ha!¡± under his breath. The nettled bigh* didn¡¯t bother with a second attempt but strode onward following the obvious path taken by Grimmbros and F¨¹rg??n, Ignatious close behind whilst Ebore jogged at a safe distance in the rear.


    *The terminal digraph of the term ¡®bigh¡¯ is a guttural sound made as far back in the throat as one can manage without causing oneself to retch uncontrollably. It is a deep and disturbing sound that no creature other than a bigh can truly utter with appropriate gravitas. See endnote #3


    Grimmbros half jogged, half skipped vivaciously through knee-deep grass with F¨¹rg??n keeping pace warily at his heel, frowning suspiciously up at his friend¡¯s monumental back and boulderish head. The lush, spreading landscape that from the hill above had looked fairly flat, was actually an undulating vale of elder and hawthorn thickets, dog-rose tangles, meadow flowers and endless grass. A few hundred yards out from the woods, the pair noticed a lone rabbit standing in their path balanced up on its hind legs.


    "Aaah, cute little fellow," F¨¹rg??n observed without stopping, "Oh, there he goes." The rabbit hopped off to one side, disappearing into a grassy tussock. "Did you notice that it didn''t look too pleased?" Grimm asked, with a slight scowl. "It''s a rabbit! How can a rabbit look not pleased? They''re basically fluff on four legs aren''t they?" "No look!" Grimm disagreed, "I can see its angry furry face glaring at us from its burrow. Look what it''s doing with its nose!¡± F¨¹rg??n followed his friend''s pointing finger but saw only grass.


    "I can¡¯t see anything," he said, "Maybe you need to buck up." The renling wondered exactly what unpleasantness a rabbit might perpetrate with its nose, but he wasn''t inclined to stop and Grimmbros soon picked up the pace again so that F¨¹rg??n was forced to scamper to keep up.


    "You didn''t notice anything?" Grimm tried again, "It didn''t look annoyed to you? Piqued? Miffed? Affronted? Not even a bit?"


    "Hopping mad I imagine," F¨¹rg??n tried, having been thinking up more rabbit jokes as they went. "There''s a couple more..." Grimm stopped and narrowed his eyes, examining the creatures ahead that had stopped nibbling some rabbit delicacy and lifted their heads. "There!" Grimm hissed, "See it?" He turned expectantly to F¨¹rg??n who was beginning to suspect that some arcane cocktail of elbh health food was curdling his companion''s mental faculties. F¨¹rg??n contemplated some comment about rabbiting on, but thought better of it as the urgh-bane suddenly lunged at the poor creatures causing them to flee in rapid skips and bounds for cover.


    "What was that?" F¨¹rg??n squawked in amazement! ¡°What¡¯re you doing?¡±


    "They were doing it! They''re up to something." Grimm shouted, stamping the grass down where the rabbits had disappeared. "Look, more of ¡¯em!" This time Grimm ran straight for the little bunch of peacefully grazing animals yelling something about cursing their conniving, little leporine faces. F¨¹rg??n watched aghast as one small furry ball flew into the air in a long, graceful arc.


    "You kicked it!" he exclaimed, "You actually kicked one! Is that what Chicken Scratching has reduced you to?" Grimmbros was panting and spinning about looking for more. "I really think you need to..." F¨¹rg??n began, but the sporting hero was off again. F¨¹rg??n hesitated a second and then dashed after him, "You can''t kick them! It''s not right!¡±*


    *The rules of chicken scratching were quite vague (despite having much to say) about the kickability of various inanimate objects and living creatures. Cuteness and furriness had little to do with what might be booted about a field by a professional scratcher. F¨¹rg??n had no idea about such things.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "You have to stop! It''s all those Elbh potions! They''ve got you hyped up on some lethal dose of huskbiscs, yoboga sap and... and... pink ihmp crystals!" He suspected that he had just made up that last one, but it didn''t matter, nobody really knew exactly what those nefarious elbhs put into their ¡®health¡¯ concoctions, besides, Grimm wasn''t even listening. Come to that, where was he?


    F¨¹rg??n became conscious of the fact that things had gone suddenly a lot less rowdy. Grimm was nowhere to be seen. The wind blew gently across the grass, the warm air tickled his dangling ears and the blue sky seemed huge and still. Where was Grimm? Cautiously, F¨¹rg??n pushed through the tall, swaying, verdant blades that encircled him, peering about in bewilderment. The grass was longer here, grass tended to be fairly long for a halfling such as himself anyway, but here it came pretty much up to his waist. "Grimm?" he called gingerly. A small bee landed on his nose making him twitch.


    No Grimm. For a split second, F¨¹rg??n began to entertain the idea that his urgh-bane friend had been right, that these plains cottontails were not as innocent as they appeared. Had they got him? He shook himself causing the bee on his nose to flit into the air and his stupid thoughts to whiplash back to reality. Rabbits! "Grimm!" he called again. Taking a step forward he tripped over something in the long grass. A foot. Following the leg that protruded from the foot he reached a patch of shorter, well-nibbled grass and located the body that protruded from the leg that protruded from the foot. It was Grimm''s... "Arrgghh! He''s got no head!" F¨¹rg??n hadn''t intended to bawl that out loud, but the sight of Grimm''s headless body was a terrible shock. The rabbits! How? Why? Why him? The senseless waste of...


    At that point, the rampant boundlessness of his own inanity came upon the renling like a hungry badger on a bees nest. It was apparent at the slightest investigation that the huge urgh-bane simply had his head jammed into a rabbit hole. Did Grimm have some sort of leporiphobia, unresolved childhood bunny resentment? The body spasmed and the head emerged ringed with soil, a hefty tuft of fur between his teeth. Grimm was wheezing in frustration, emitting a noise rather like an asthmatic gorilla on a kazoo. F¨¹rg??n was genuinely shocked."For shame!" he breathed, "What''s got into you? They''re rabbits! Rabbits!" he repeated in exasperation as if the word alone revealed the vastness of this insanity. ¡°What exactly are you so worried about? Ingrowing hares?¡±


    Grimm knitted his brows searching for words, ¡°They were¡­¡±


    ¡°They were what?¡± the renling impatiently interrupted. ¡°Hopping about ruthlessly? Nibbling nefariously? Burrowing in cold blood? What? What can rabbits do?¡± Grimm let out a long breath and frowned back at the little, dark burrow behind him. He said nothing, but it was obvious that F¨¹rg??n''s common sense and reason were having an impact. Renling rationale wasn''t the only impact that bore on the moment though, with a gut-wrenching, somewhat squelchy thud, something swift and powerful pounded the earth only feet away.


    ¡°They''rrrrr no match forrrr the bunny mallet!" Major elbh stood triumphantly waving a large wooden hammer with a studded, leather-covered head and a disturbing furry mat hanging off it. F¨¹rg??n wasn''t sure what concerned him most: the implement or the official-looking elbh apparently examining his hair.


    Before the open-mouthed renling could manage a sentence another elbh with a medical appearance slipped into view, pulled a face of revulsion, held his breath and took a good look in the downcast urgh-bane''s ear, pretty much sticking his whole head inside and mumbling with a far-off echo before emerging with a knowing look and a slightly waxy sheen.


    Flaring the larger of two nostrils significantly he announced, "It''s still there alright! If we don''t have it out it''ll..."


    But before the thought could be completed Major Elbh lunged forward with his oversized steak tenderiser. He smacked it with all his might at a little head that poked out of the hole from which Grimmbros had extracted himself. To F¨¹rg??n''s relief, the little fellow ducked deftly back out of sight.


    "I''m not happy about this, they''rrre planning something the conniving wee beasties."


    "What? What''s going on? How could you?" enquired F¨¹rg??n, trying to peep into the depths of the rabbit hole without getting too close and then trying to get a good angle to peep into his friend''s equally cavernous ear, also without getting too close. He wasn''t sure which one held contents more perilous.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know what these rrrabbits are capable of!¡± Major grunted.


    A sigh from Grimm once more shifted the focus of everyone¡¯s attention."He''s gone all like he did back at that wretched Norris'' house,¡± F¨¹rg??n muttered.


    "It''s the dread despondicus, that''s what it is," the medical elbh announced, ¡°It¡¯s not¡­¡±


    "Despoddy what?" spat the perturbed renling.


    Original Elbh then limped into view, emerging almost silently from the grass as only elbhs do. He suggested a bit of huskbisc and pulled out some almost weightless fibre cakes wrapped in one of the least palatable dried leaves you could imagine. F¨¹rg??n''s mouth went dry and his tongue felt thrice its normal size just at the thought of it. He almost slapped it out of the elbh''s outstretched hand, but as it was, that wouldn''t be necessary.


    It had all been something of a roller coaster ride of emotion for Grimmbros these last few days. One day he was a popular champion, cavorting about on the fields of chicken scratch pitches the Unknown World over; then he was sucked out of existence and flushed back in again; then he had been seduced into this journey with this renling and his now-absent knohm associate; then he was languishing in a bed of misery in some squalid oafe bridge; then all was bright and sunny; then all was hopeless and swampy and now...


    Fight or flight? It was coming on again, an enormous, basic instinctive urge.


    He looked darkly at the trio of elbhs whose names he didn''t know. He scowled with undisguised abhorrence at the dug-out rabbit hole where little heads kept bobbing in and out of view as Major Elbh swung manically with the mallet. Fight or flight? The fat throb of the urge made his whole head pulse visibly.


    Or maybe just lie here in the sun and...


    And what?


    Leaping to his feet Grimmbros let out a howl like a freshly-neutered water buffalo, head-butted the


    nearest elbh, stuffed another butt-first into the rabbit hole, roared at the third until he fell backwards into a cowering heap and then he was off, galloping with all his might toward the horizon. That was it - fight and flight! F¨¹rg??n shrugged and took off in pursuit, glad that he at least had escaped his friend''s blistering outlash.


    ¡°But I didn¡¯t get to tell him about the mechanical head,¡± Medical Elbh moaned.


    It was at about this point that Ignatious, Egmord and Ebore crested the hill in the forest. They paused in the self-same spot where previously F¨¹rg??n the renling had perused his maps and considered his options. The view was panoramic, the air clear and the sight of a racing urgh-bane closely followed by a scampering halfling not far in the distance cheered their spirits.


    "That''s them down there! They''re headed for the moors," Ebore squeaked excitedly, stating the obvious as Ignatious calculated the time and distance.


    "Well come on then!" Egmord shouted (he pretty much always shouted, even when his listeners were within inches of him, it could get a tad annoying), "There''s nothing between us and them!"


    The sight of his quarry and the free flow of a fresh breeze up his trouser leg was working the giant into a raving bloodlust. Ebore took a step sideways in anticipation of further bellowing and a whack still owing.


    "I''m gonna wedgie that poncey, stinkin'' urgh-bane so hard he''ll have a permanent hump!" Spit was raining on Ignatious as the tirade developed. Ebore looked a bit smug at his decision to back off, but quickly hid his smirk as he noticed the expression of absolute seething contempt struggling to remain undisclosed behind their leader''s veneer of control.


    Grimmbros ran and ran, a conflicting mixture of dreary apathy caused by the head of the despondicus mosquito still stuck in his ear and a gradually flagging fight or flight impulse that drove him onward toward the moors up ahead. F¨¹rg??n struggled to keep up. He wondered how long Grimmbros could go on. He feared the urgh-bane had reached a point where he couldn''t care anymore and might just run himself into the ground, to an ignominious end. Still, Grimm thundered onward.


    The lush meadow verdure in time gave way to wiry moorland grass spotted with gorse as the land rose. Grimmbros paid no heed to the change of landscape, he just wove around the large granite boulders that lay deep in the grass, speckled and blotched with bright yellow and pale green lichen rings, and headed for the higher ground ahead.


    Eventually, he pounded up the first of the rugged tors, at times leaping over a particularly dense cluster of the huge rocks that increased in number as the altitude rose. Scrambling over the great mass of weathered boulders at the top, he finally stood swaying at the very apex, upon an impossibly high, precariously balanced stack of granite. F¨¹rg??n was some way behind, but could still see Grimmbros standing there ahead on the topmost boulder. ''Grimmbros!'' he called out. Grimmbros didn''t respond, he just stared out into the distance.


    Then, F¨¹rg¨´?n saw a strange sight. The giant raised his arms out straight at right angles to his body. It looked like he was going to perform one of his old star-jump warm-up exercises, but instead he just swayed there on the very edge of the peak. F¨¹rg??n leapt and scrambled up the last of the crag noticing that they were a lot higher up than he could have ever imagined. The south side of the tor had been a gradual climb but now as wispy clouds spun past his head, he saw the precipitous drop ahead.


    The wind blew with loud intensity and it whistled all around him causing his long renling ears to flick and snap against his head. He stretched out an arm, but before he could utter a word Grimmbros was gone. He had jumped! Or rather, leaned forward out and over the edge, a great falling star. As the giant toppled into the aching emptiness of the void F¨¹rg??n was mere inches behind, outflung arms grasping in futility when a huge gust of wind from nowhere caught the renling completely off guard plunging him too in shock and horror over the edge of the very same fateful apex!

 Chapter Five

    Blackness.


    Grimmbros was dead.


    Everything was black - no, wait! There was a dot of light. A halo around the dot, no, a tunnel. A bright light at the end of a dark tunnel. Grimmbros blinked. Blackness with blurry light. Yes, indeed he was dead. As if to absolutely establish this sad fact, there were faces ahead in the light beckoning him. Loved ones! Loved ones calling to him! It was a relief in a way.


    "Come to the light, Grimmbros." Grimmbros blinked again. He should go, shouldn''t he? But why was it such a struggle? Shouldn''t he float or drift into effulgent bliss effortlessly? He attempted a mental clenching, straining procedure that he felt ought to initiate the expected weightless gliding, but if anything, his sense of earthy immobility increased. This wasn''t blissful; this was distressing! Why wasn''t it bliss? It should be bliss!


    Again there was a presence in the light, apparently moving closer. This time the face filled the tunnel, eclipsing the light.


    "Come on, Grimm! You can do it." That was no dead loved one. In fact, its status as a living loved one was dubious. It was F¨¹rg??n panting excitedly.


    "Come on. Get out of that rabbit hole."


    Rabbit hole! The mention of rabbits threw Grimmbros into a panic. All sense of otherly bliss shattered as Grimmbros flexed his huge form and struggled upward.


    As he rose, soil fell from him in clods and clumps. A shower of earth rained down as he shook his befuddled head.


    "What? Rabbits? Where? What happened?"


    "It was amazing!" F¨¹rg??n enthused. "We were falling. You jumped! I landed on you just after you hit the ground, well I say ground, I mean sheep.


    "Well, how bizarre!" said Grimmbros, looking around him, then squinting upwards to see whence he had, apparently, fallen. "I can not say that I have any recollection of that." The urgh-bane seemed totally bewildered by his current position. As he poked, picked and plucked remnants of rabbit hole from every orifice his head had to offer, Grimmbros started to recall a few pre-fall thoughts. Suddenly, with a start, he remembered something; a single memory, jumped into the forefront of his mind and doused him with a bucket of ice-cold reality, awakening him from the drowsy warmth of blissful amnesia; he turned to his companion, and with anger and hurt undisguised in his voice he implored: "Why would you do that?"


    "Eh?" responded the renling, looking left and right, fully expecting to see that someone else had joined them, and was the target of the urgh-bane''s pain.


    "You told me to jump, you big-eared toad!"


    F¨¹rg??n looked back at Grimmbros in stunned silence.


    "I heard you, you chimp-nosed knave!"


    "Eh?" Was all the renling could muster, shocked to find that it was, indeed, himself on the end of this scandalous accusation.


    "You called out... from behind me... to jump off the top of the tor... you frog-skinned scoundrel. Why? Why would you do that?" The anger had faded, and the urgh-bane''s tone was all hurt now. "Eh?" F¨¹rg??n repeated floundering in deeper and deeper confusion, ¡°Chimp eared scoundrel? "All I said was ¡®Grimmbros.¡¯"


    ¡°And!¡± Grimmbros¡¯ face took on a whole other level of outrage as the memories returned, ¡°You rode me! You rode me like a sledge down that hill.¡±


    F¨¹rg??n tried to get a look into the urgh-bane''s ear, wondering if the mosquito that the elbhs had talked about was making him hear things.


    "You said: ''Why don''t you jump off and give us some peace, you big moaning pile of weasel waste.''¡±


    "I never did!" protested the renling, coughing and repeating his protest in a lower pitch. ¡°I saved you, I managed to pull your head upward using your hair and one nostril and guide you down the slope at the bottom of the rocks! I thought we''d only go a few yards, but the sheep droppings seemed to smooth the ride. We would have gone further if you hadn''t got wedged in that rabbit hole. It was..." The renling searched for a suitable adjective, failed and continued, "I even tried to steer you round that gorse bush on the way down. Ok, I failed and you went straight through it and over a badger too, but I tried. I''m innocent! It''s that skeeto, that''s what it is!"


    Skeeto? Mosquito! Could that even be possible? The recalcitrant renling had many noisome nuances, but lying was not one of them. Sure, he was capable of bending and stretching the truth on occasion, and certainly, he was guilty of hiding it with regularity, but then, which renling didn''t?* The urgh-bane himself kept choice truths from his companion: playing guardian to many secrets - dark secrets, dangerous secrets... But he knew the renling would not outright lie; it was contrary to his nature.


    So, that left what was left of the mosquito. The entrenched half-bug had been playing merry havoc with his emotions; those elbhs had made it quite clear that that was to be expected, but to suggest that it was now capable of communicating with him through some kind of subliminal speech: well, that just seemed absurd!


    Grimmbros squeezed his great forehead with his massive hand, as if he hoped to force some single strain of sense from out of his pores.


    * A good renling considered it his job to hide anything that ought to be hid, the truth often being just one of such things. After all, where would we be if everything was simply exposed and out in the open? F¨¹rg??n had once even suggested that Grimm might consider the benefits of a good hiding.


    Grimm shook his head, attempting to focus on the situation at hand and forced his introspective musings deeper. If, therefore, there was truth in this preposterous mosquito proposal, the conundrum that caused Grimmbros particular concern was: why would it want, now, to kill him? Wasn''t it just a helpless bug head?


    Grimmbros looked skywards as he began to ponder an ever-increasing, rich kaleidoscope of convoluted drudgery. Could it really be possible? Why did a head want him dead? And was the head working alone? Suddenly, as Grimmbros struggled to comprehend the strange situation, F¨¹rg??n let out a startled gasp.


    "Look there, Grimmbros, look there!" screamed F¨¹rg??n pointing into the distance. Grimmbros looked bemusedly in the direction of F¨¹rg??n''s quivering finger. He saw black clouds shifting on the horizon, weaving across the windswept moorland.


    ¡° I say, now they do not look at all good,¡± he muttered.


    ¡°No, no! Not there! Look over to the left!¡± said F¨¹rg??n.


    ¡°It can¡¯t be, can it?¡± replied Grimmbros slowly, squinting at an approaching figure beneath the clouds. It was Razzles, darting fitfully toward them, the moving clouds twisting and winding in pursuit of him.


    ¡°What is he on?¡± F¨¹rg??n wondered out loud. ¡°It''s¡­ he''s on a purple¡­ chicken!¡±This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The puzzled renling was not quite right. Razzles was, in fact, precariously astride a lesser-squalid rock-dodo. A semi-flightless creature with aviation potential akin to that of a farmyard hen and the intelligence of a barnacle. If it put its mind to it and the wind was right it could perhaps just about clear a house with assistance or struggle along a foot or so above ground for miles, again with assistance. As such, the knohm¡¯s little legs were skipping, scrabbling and hopping each time the malformed bird hit the earth.


    Scampering along, barely airborne, the jingle of bells mixed with protesting squawks, a jubilant Razzles wobbled up the last few hundred yards to rejoin his friends. However, any moment of welcome was drained as F¨¹rg??n and Grimmbros had their attention on the frantic knohm''s pursuer.


    As surprised as they were to see the knohm, after such an extended hiatus, that surprise could not compete with the alarm that barged in like a belligerent bailiff, seizing possession of their senses over the encroaching cloud. As the recumbent pair peered past Razzles and his dolorous-looking dodo to the horizon beyond they saw the cloud advance across the moor with a disconcerting rapidity and a disturbing, irregular fluidity. As it closed, indomitably toward them they found that they could not help but stare at the flying mass: there was an unnatural nature to it that held their attention for far too long. It seemed as though it was alive; it pulsed, it flickered: it fluttered.


    As it got closer, it was evident that it was not so much ¡®alive¡¯ but consisted of living things, birds perhaps. They could see the surface of the cloud now: nebulous, a constant flurry of movement, edges amorphous, constantly changing, unable to keep a consistent shape due to the persistent flap and flurry of wings and the tussle and tangle of creatures shoving within. The beating of the cloud created a staccato sound that roared like a vibrating pride of lions. The density of the massed creatures blocked all light; the crescendo of their din drowned all sound.


    F¨¹rg??n climbed to his feet; ¡°What¡­ is¡­ that?¡± he breathed, his voice a cocktail of awe, bewilderment and dread.


    ¡°Ah!¡± gasped the breathless knohm, as if he had just returned from the shops with a box of groceries, but then remembered that he had forgotten the very thing that he had gone out for. ¡°Yes, that is why I am on this.¡± He patted the desperate dodo¡¯s flank. ¡°We really can¡¯t hang around here chaps; I¡¯m being chased.¡±


    Without waiting to hear if the renling had any further questions the urgh-bane launched to his feet, ¡°I suggest we had better run,¡± he grumbled and threw himself in the direction of the knohm with fast, powerful strides. He knew exactly what it was and he had no intention of hanging about for it to get close.


    F¨¹rg??n was not so quick with his flight response. Every nerve in his body interested in preservation was begging to follow the other two, but they found that they were out-shouted by those more interested in investigation.* He turned back to get one last look at the distant living cloud, only to find that distance was a luxury he no longer had: the bird-cloud was now less than a hundred skips from where he stood. The conglomeration of crow-like creatures had abruptly stopped in their pressing advance like a charging black dog reaching the end of its chain. They hovered in front of the rooted renling bustling, jostling and rustling in front of him as the more distant birds pressed into the mass, making it pulse as might a great panting beast waiting to pounce.


    *The curiosity of renlings had led many to their doom or injury. Hence the saying, ¡°a renling in the bush is probably looking for something.¡±


    Then the bird-creatures at the bottom of the throbbing flock started to peel off from the rest toward the ground. As each body fell, one on top of the other, it fused with the one below to form the beginnings of a shape. The piling of bird bodies began to solidify into a compact trunk; simultaneously, a second formed beside the first. As the birds kept falling, more of the structure took shape; the columns grew into two great legs. As the structure towered upwards and outwards, the motion of the bodies seemed to change; as the bulk of the mass became rooted to the ground, the remaining creatures fell with an ever-increasing momentum drawn by the relocated gravity of the mass.


    Where they, at first, looked as though they were falling like a flock of grouse being blown out of the sky with grape-shot, now they appeared to be sucked down; drawn by a vortex of impulsion like a shoal of fish sucked into a whirlpool. More and more dropped till a huge torso was built; it was like watching the construction of a gargantuan statue from a million black rags poured into an invisible mould. By the time that the last of the flyers were sucked into its swelling head, the avian cloud had been transformed into a terrestrial giant. On legs the size of sequoias stood a tremendous behemoth of impossible proportions; and it glared, through deep set eyes of blazing fire, with furious intent, at the puny being cowering before it.


    F¨¹rg??n found himself rooted to the spot, his big, clawed feet heavy, unmoving.


    ¡°What is that thing?¡± was all his overwhelmed brain allowed his tightened mouth to let out. The towering colossus reached out to deal with this trifling irritant when, the three elbhs appeared in the grass just behind it. Major Elbh swung his big wooden mallet hign in the air, but before he could bring it to bear, the monster¡¯s beaked head screeched the ugliest caw imaginable and a vast shadowy foot swung up and down with a sickening crunch. Major Elbh and Medical Elbh flung themselves sideways, but the poor elbh that had first met Grimm at the bridge was crushed helplessly.


    This shift of events gave F¨¹rg??n the opportunity to collect himself and flee. His little hairy legs had never moved so fast and he was galloping after Grimmbros and Razzles in a trice.


    ¡°What is that thing?¡± he yelled after the nodding, belled-head of Razzles.


    ¡°Murder! M-U-R...¡± the knohm called.


    ¡°I know that,¡± interrupted the fleeing renling, ¡°it squashed that poor elbh mercilessly. But what is it?¡±


    "A murder! It¡¯s a murder!¡±


    *****


    The unfolding conflict had not gone unnoticed by Grimmbros'' would be nemeses. Ignatious had first spotted the dodo-riding Razzles burst from the woodlands some few hundred yards to their left as the hulken trio had completed their descent to the grass plain. Egmord had sputtered a bemused, "What is that cretinous knohm on?" as the disjointed loping flap-hop-scrabble of bird and halfling had safely bypassed them.


    Not long after, the leaves of the trees topping the hill at their backs had been whipped into a mad frenzy by the passage of myriad winged pursuers. As they gazed on with open mouths, the black storm cloud slowly closed the gap until, in the vicinity of the rough tor on the far side of the plain, it dropped from the sky and underwent a process of stupefying transmogrification.


    "You sure you want to carry on?" Ebore had asked nervously.


    Ignatious scowled at Ebore''s fearful comment, cuffed him cursorily across the back of his pale green head and turned to Egmord for a reaction. Although clearly shaken by what he saw, the giant rumbled, "Of course we''re going to carry on! No flock of birds is gonna get in the way of me having that filthy urgh-bane." To demonstrate his resolve he set off with a roar onto the grassland.


    *****


    Scarpering for all he was worth, F¨¹rg??n wondered how long they might be able to evade the towering bird-thing behind them. He noticed that Grimmbros'' initially fleet flight already showed signs of ¡®what¡¯s the point¡¯ beginning to set in. Looking back, he saw the great, black colossus heaving there like a ship on high waters still in the place where they had left it. The elbhs surely were the cause of the thing''s delay, F¨¹rg??n hoped they weren''t faring too badly. The colossus¡¯ attention, however, was locked onto Razzles, as he scuttled along the moorland mounted upon his dodo. With an explosive burst of noise and energy the entire form blew outwards into a million parts, reverting back into the swirling black cloud of birds that it first was.


    As the cloud expanded across the sky once more, it launched into pursuit of the fleeing knohm. The countless mass of bird forms tumbled and swirled over the fleeing forms of F¨¹rg??n, Razzles and Grimm with the thunderous sound of a million wings flapping. It sounded like an orchestra of demented, clapping flamenco dancers beating in rapid staccato rhythm. The corvid cloud churned overhead and flew on several hundred yards beyond where Razzles was leading the fleeing party, then stopped. It once more began its terrible transformation, pouring into the form of the mighty giant.


    Razzles tried desperately to rein in the dodo from its stumbling advance but, in the end, had to resort to leaning forward and squeezing the bird¡¯s throat as he squealed for it to stop, and then it did, immediately. Razzles was hurled from off the back of his perch and was sent rolling along the mossy turf toward the feet of the beast before them. As he came to a stop, his head pressed into the soft peat, he raised himself to see the mighty form of the giant leaning down towards him; furnace-like eyes bore at his, with a heat he could feel from the ground, its mouth opening into a cavernous throat of unfathomable depth, and one mighty, doom-laden arm, slowly reached toward him.


    Grimmbros was not far when Razzles was thrown from the dodo¡¯s back. He slid to an abrupt stop as the massive paramorph reformed before them, and stood, rooted in horror, as the beast towered above the knohm like a terrible tsunami over a tiny bamboo village. Thoughts upon thoughts raced through Grimmbros¡¯ head; random, disjointed expressions, half-thoughts without time for completion: ¡®stupid knohm¡­ what kind of¡­ deserves all he gets¡­ incredible creature - impressive¡­ rip his beard right off and beat him with it¡­ keep on running... Ah! Hog-fathers! Just can¡¯t leave the pest to die.¡¯