The Journey Of The Rat-Mage, Part Two

Nugget did not see what the beast did, he was too scared to watch. All he heard was a ferocious roar, a thud and a loud whoosh. When he had plucked up enough courage to leave his hidey-hole, he saw Mister Thompkiss lying on the floor, huge claw-marks in his shoulder, and... fire! A ball of flames had started in the corner of the shop, quickly spreading through the swatches and rolls of cloth. Nugget suddenly sprung into action, diving across the floor and grabbing Mister Thompkiss by his apron. Though he was tiny, Nugget found incredible strength in himself, feeling the magical power from his new cloak coursing through his body. He pulled Mister Thompkiss, tugging his body out through the door and into the street, where people were already gathering to stand and watch and cry out in alarm. Nugget was barely aware of someone shouting "Did that rat just pull that man out of the shop?" and someone else replying "don't be stupid, that's impossible!" and other people saying "that's Mister Thompkiss! He made my coat!" - "quick, someone get a doctor! I think he's still alive!"

Nugget left the people to their confusion and running, dodging the bootheels of the City Guard as they arrived to take charge of the situation and organise a bucket chain to put out the fire. Scampering down the road and following the unmistakeable smell of the black beast and its leather-clad owner, Nugget paused at the end of the street, sniffing first one way then another to track down his friend's attacker.

At this moment, Nugget hopped up onto a bench and looked round. He was angry. Angry at the tall man named Drake, at the black flame-eyed creature that had nearly killed Mister Thompkiss, but mostly at himself for not having done anything to stop it happening, even though he didn't know if there was anything he could have done. It is a well-known fact that in the Realm, birds can speak. It is less well-known that rats can too - they just don't often have anything to say. Nugget sniffed the air again, picking up the tall man's scent - and he spoke one word. "Revenge."

An hour later, the trail was growing cold. The tall man's scent had faded, even the sooty stench from the black beast was almost gone. Nugget stopped running somewhere half-way down Ramding Way, by a terrace of houses and rested awhile by a pot of geraniums. As he tried to gather his thoughts, he heard something. Cocking his head toward the source of the noise, it sounded like sobbing coming from the basement of a nearby house. He scampered to the small window of the house next door, and peered inside...

The basement was dark, lit by a single small oil lantern on a stand in the corner. In the other corner, shrouded by gloom was a cage, three feet wide by about the same high. In the cage, a small human girl clad in grimy rags shivered. Nugget had never been in a cage before - he had always been a rat free to do as he wished - but he knew it was not a good thing to be. Steeling himself, Nugget grabbed at the bottom of the window - he noticed the latch was only half-on - and tugged hard. With a tiny creak, the window jolted, shifted a little - and the latch fell closed, locking the window solidly.

"Ah." He had not expected that, though on reflection it did seem one of the more likely outcomes of his action. He paced quickly up and down on his back legs, trying to think of what he could do. He stroked his chin, scratched his head, then put out a paw to lean on the window as he thought. Suddenly, he stumbled and nearly fell. Looking around, he realised that the window was on his other side - that somehow he had managed to transport himself through the glass without even noticing. He looked at his cloak; the material shimmered and glinted, even though the basement was dark. Well, that's handy, he thought.

Nugget clambered down the assortment of boxes, trunks and cases that were conveniently stacked by the window and across the floor to the cage. It was a dirty looking cage, to be sure, tall thick bars of solid iron, held secure by a large padlock. Nugget had seen padlocks before, Mister Thompkiss had one on the cash box he had in his shop. A few times, when Mister Thompkiss wasn't looking, Nugget had toyed around with the padlock and discovered, much to his cheeky delight that he could pick the lock with his tail. He decided that one padlock could not be too much different from another, so climbed up the bars and seated himself atop the large black iron padlock.The little girl looked up in surprise, to see Nugget raise his paw and put a finger to his lips. Recognising his gesture, she nodded slowly, wiping tears from her eyes and sniffing quietly.

Taking the tip of his tail in his paws, Nugget thrust it into the key-hole and started feeling around. There was a sudden click, which initially gratified Nugget, until he realised that the click was the sound of his tail snapping. Biting back the urge to let out a loud yelp, he withdrew his tail, nursing it sadly.

Well this is a fine how-do-you-do, thought Nugget as he tried to painfully click his tail back into shape. I only wanted to open this blasted lock and...

Suddenly, the lock disintegrated, diffusing into a small pile of iron filings on the floor onto which Nugget fell with a flumph! noise. The girl let out a stifled giggle from behind her hand, which was cut short at the sound of heavy bootheels coming down the stairs. Heavy bootheels, and the soft padding sound of a large animal...

(...To Be Continued...)

The Journey Of The Rat-Mage, Part One.

Once upon a time, as good stories usually are, there was a little tailor shop in the city of Realmhaven. In this tailor shop was a man, the tailor mister Thompkiss. Also in this tailor shop was his friend, a small rat which had no name. He had sleek brown fur and little black eyes which glimmered like nuggets of onyx, so we shall call him... Nugget, because Onyx is a silly name for a rat.

Mister Thompkiss was good to his friend Nugget. He would share his lunch with him every day, telling him tales of the Mages, the wizards who held control over the Realm and all its magic many many years ago. Nugget, who understood every word he said (obviously; he was a rat, not an idiot) sat and listened intently, a small lump of bread or cheese grasped in his little paws, sometimes a candied nut. Then, after they had eaten, mister Thompkiss would stroke Nugget on his little furry head and smile pleasantly saying  "...but that'll be for another time", as he always left his stories in the middle of something exciting so that he would have something exciting to come back to when they next sat down.

One day, as mister Thompkiss finished telling his story for the day, he gave Nugget a knowing smile. "You see, I've been doing a little thinking, and I wanted to make something for you, for all the times you've sat here listening to me going on and on about wizards and things." He reached into his lunch bag and brought out a small piece of black cloth. "Very special, you see. A few years ago, before you were born probably, the Ravenlord himself visited this very shop." The Ravenlord was master of the Realm, the keeper of the magic since the Wizard Wars had nearly destroyed everything. "He asked me to make for him a robe for him to wear at his new-born baby son's first public appearance. And he had brought with him a swatch of cloth, very special cloth for me to make his robe. Well I did, you see, and it was a most magnificent robe, black as the blackest night but soft as the softest silk. When I had finished, and the Ravenlord had worn his robe, I found I had some of that special cloth left over. I've kept it all these years, and last night I made this for you. Your very own wizard's robe."

Nugget was surprised, flattered and honoured that his friend mister Thompkiss would do such a thing for him. As mister Thompkiss held out the robe for him, Nugget took it in his paws and slipped it over his head. It fit perfectly, as Nugget knew it would, the sleeves not too long and the cowl not too loose. He sat back on his haunches, admiring his reflection in the small hand mirror mister Thompkiss held out for him.

"My my," said mister Thompkiss, "you look every bit the wise and powerful wizard."

Nugget had to agree; the robe was magnificent, with fine silver stitches round the cuffs and hood and a delicate motif in the shape of a raven emblazoned in gold across the back. He hopped, looking over his shoulder so he could see it properly. Filled with thoughts of mighty wizards and powerful magic, Nugget started throwing his paws round, pretending he was casting spells in some tremendous battle of wits between Mages.

Mister Thompkiss clapped his hands in glee, watching his little friend play-act. Then, the shop bell rang as the door slowly swung open. "Oh, I have customers. I shall have to tend to them, my little friend." With that, he turned and made his way into the front.

Standing in the middle of the shop was a tall man dressed all in black leather, a large sword sheathed by his hip. He had long black hair and his face was a crisscross mess of scars, curling the edge of his lip upward in a fierce snarl. Mister Thompkiss bowed slightly when he saw the man, trying to show his politest face even though Nugget (who watched from the doorway into the back) could tell he was terrified.

"Mister Drake, you've come for your travelling cloak. I have it right here." he rummaged around in an assortment of boxes, flipping open lids until he found the right one. With a triumphant "Aha!" he whipped out a long black cloak with gold and scarlet hems, holding it up so that the tall man could see it.

"Excellent." The man said, taking the cloak up in his hands and examining it closely. Indeed it was a fine cloak, heavy and warm. "And you used the exact material I requested?"

"Oh, it took me a while to locate Metallisian Thoth-velvet, especially in the colours you wanted, but it is precisely as you ordered sir." Mister Thompkiss bowed again, nervously. The man nodded his head in approval and swooshed the cloak around his shoulders, fixing it with a small gold clasp-and-chain.

"It is good. As strong as a set of full-plate armour. Perfect." His lip twitched in a grotesque parody of a smile.

"...now there is just the matter of payment. As it was such a task to acquire the materials, I'm afraid I will have to." Mister Thompkiss had his notebook in his hand and was scribbling in it with a small stub of pencil.

The man took half a step forward. "I believe there will be no charge for this."

Mister Thompkiss trembled. "I'm dreadfully sorry sir, but I have my overheads to consider. I can't just..." His words were interrupted by the jingling of the shop bell, and Nugget instinctively dived behind the curtain, watching with his heart pounding in his little ears.

"My companion will be able to discuss terms more fully..." As the tall man turned from Mister Thompkiss, he stepped aside to reveal his companion - a massive black dog-like creature with fierce glowing red eyes.

"...but sir," Mister Thompkiss pleaded.

But the man was gone, the only sounds the jingling of the shop bell and the beast's hoarse raspy breathing...

(To Be Continued...)