Authors: Adriana Arden
But which way to go? Her ‘disguise’ had held up well so far, but perhaps it would not be a bad idea to leave the road and cut across country, where there was less chance of meeting people. So she set off over the rolling meadow towards the far woods.
An hour’s steady progress as best she could estimate without sun or watch, took Alice to the edge of the big wood without encountering any creature larger than a few perfectly ordinary non-talking rabbits. Away from the fields and village the land seemed almost deserted. It was what she had hoped for,
but
it was also disconcerting. There were few places in her own England where you could walk so far without crossing a road or at the least seeing an aircraft passing overhead. She looked up at the pearly bright sky, wondering how long she had until dark. If she could reach the barrier while it was still light she might scout out the next square before deciding where to make camp. The nights never got very cold so a simple shelter should serve. As for food there was usually something to be found. She would not risk mushrooms, but fruits were usually safe. Nuts and berries from hedgerows would keep her going, though she might begin to miss a proper meal after a few days. Dare she try stealing some if the opportunity arose? No, that did not feel right. Was it possible for an itinerant girling to pay her way as she went in the Boardland? But what would she pay with? she wondered, then smiled to herself. It was obvious what she would pay with. The idea of what she might have to do suddenly excited her. Well, that was being true to her nature, wasn’t it? It would be a challenge to avoid such situations, and even more of one to endure them when inescapable. Though she had to come back to Underland, there was no reason why she should not enjoy the adventure, with all rewards both dark and light.
She had begun well, crossing most of the first square in good time and without mishap. If she could use the same trick again then at this rate, allowing time for rests and finding food one way or another, the whole journey might take less than a week. Of course, as she had seen from the hilltop, some of the squares contained more land than others and so might take longer to cross, but hopefully this would average out.
The wood proper closed about her as she walked between the towering shafts of beach and oak, their canopies merging overhead so that only slivers of the sky remained visible. The leaf-littered ground between
the
great trunks was broken here and there by the dark glossy greens of holly trees and rhododendrons. Where pools of light did penetrate to the woodland floor, thick clumps of fern sprouted.
A small stream meandered between the trees over a bed of sand and stone. Alice put down her load, took a drink and splashed her face. The water was clear, cool and perfectly pure. Refreshed she continued on. Not far to go now, she told herself.
Then she came upon a distinct path worn into the ground. Beside it somebody had erected a sign crudely knocked together from scrap-wood. There were two boards on the post each pointing in the same direction. The top read, in roughly painted capitals:
THIS WAY
, and the one below it:
NO, THIS WAY
.
More Underland madness, she thought. But the path did lead in the direction she wanted to go, so she followed along it cautiously. She passed more signs:
TOVES GO THIS WAY
and then
MOME RATHS A;SO
. All pointed in the same direction. She recognised the names as belonging to fictitious creatures from the book, but wondered what purpose they were meant to serve.
Ahead of her the path wound between a holly bush and a large mass of rhododendrons. Between them something brightly coloured was lying on the ground. As she got closer Alice saw it was an old-fashioned painted wooden baby rattle. Somebody must have dropped it. Since it was right in the middle of the narrow path she stooped to pick it up …
It was only as she touched it that she felt the ground giving way under her with a snap and swish of dry sticks and leaves. She made a desperate sideways leap, clawed at a crumbling edge of earth, which came away in clods in her hands, and then slithered into a concealed pit.
Alice landed on her back in a shower of dirt and leaves on the remains of the pit cover, her own bundle snapping and gouging her painfully. For a few seconds
she
lay there, shocked and winded and hardly daring to move in case she found she had injured herself badly. But apart from the scrapes in her back she seemed to be in one piece. Slipping off her bundle she cautiously got to her feet and looked around her.
Though it had proved an effective trap, the pit was in fact not very large. She reached up and found she could just get her hand over its edge. It should not be too difficult to climb out. Perhaps it had been intended to trap some sort of animal rather than a person. A tove or mome rath, possibly? She saw the rattle lying in the debris and picked it up ruefully, only to find it was trailing a length of string with a freshly broken end, which had apparently snapped during the fall. Looking round she saw the other end dangling from a small pipe protruding from the side of the pit. Since it had not triggered the collapse, what was its purpose? Then it came to her. It must be part of an alarm system; presumably to alert whoever had dug it that the trap had been sprung. And how long would it be before they came to see what they had caught?
Anxiously she began to scrabble her way out of the pit. If she could just get a firm hold of the edge … But the earth was too soft to provide enough grip to pull herself out and kept breaking away in her hands. It was so frustrating. If only she had something to give her a leg up. Her bundle of sticks! She picked it up and wedged it against one corner of the pit, using it as a crude step. The broken ends jabbed into the sole of her foot but she gritted her teeth, lunged upwards, hauled the top half of her body over the pit edge, gave a final kick with her legs and slithered onto firm ground … only to find herself staring at two pairs of black leather shoes.
She raised her head, looking up the length of cream-coloured trousers that swelled out to encompass ample
waists
, short tight brown jackets with double rows of buttons, large shirt collars and finally two plump, young/old faces with wide mouths, snub noses and round, slightly bulging eyes. These peered suspiciously down at her from under the brims of small striped peaked caps.
Alice sighed. She recognised the pair, of course. As with her first adventure, it looked like she was going to encounter characters from the book as she went. That, apparently, was the way what passed for chance operated in Underland.
‘I thought we’d caught a tove, Dee,’ one of the pair said petulantly.
‘Contrariwise, I thought it was a mome rath, Dum,’ his twin replied. ‘But it’s just a silly girling.’
This description of herself annoyed Alice. She climbed painfully to her feet and said angrily, ‘Did you dig that trap? I could have broken my neck falling into that. Can’t you play your games somewhere else?’
The pair did not appear in the least repentant. Ignoring her protest, Dee looked her up and down and then said calculatingly, ‘Maybe there’ll be a reward for rescuing her.’
‘But you didn’t rescue me,’ Alice said.
‘We did if we say so,’ Dee snapped. ‘You’re just a girling, nobody’ll believe what you say. Who do you belong to?’
Alice took a deep breath, quelling her anger. She was trying to pass through the country as unobtrusively as possible and arguing with the locals, even these wizened boys, was no way to go about it. ‘I’m from over there,’ she said, pointing vaguely. ‘Nobody you’d know. I was collecting wood. Now I’ve lost it down your hole. I’ll have to find some more. Goodbye.’
‘She’s very rude for a girling,’ Dum observed.
‘And she hasn’t got an owner’s name on her collar,’ Dee pointed out. ‘Very contrary.’
Why did they have to have such sharp eyes? Alice thought. Trying to sound a little humbler, she said: ‘Sorry … young masters. It must have been the fall. Made me forget my manners. Do excuse me.’
She began to back away around the pit, only to give a yelp as she pricked her bottom on a branch of the holly tree that flanked one side of it. Even as she looked about for a different escape route the twins hemmed her in, moving disconcertingly in step. They were as tall as she was and much bulkier. Reaching out they each caught her by an arm. Alice tried to wriggle from their grasp but they were too strong. A sick sense of fear began to well up inside her.
‘Maybe she’s not a proper girling at all,’ Dum suggested, then added grudgingly, ‘Though she’s very pretty.’ With his free hand he clasped and squeezed her right breast, as though testing a melon for ripeness. Alice bit her lip but said nothing. Maybe after a bit of a grope they’d get bored with her. ‘Her titties are bigger than that girling Old Mr Meles has.’
‘Remember the trouble we got into about playing with her,’ Dee said. ‘P’raps we should let this one go.’
‘But this one’s different,’ Dum insisted. He pointed at Alice’s pubes. ‘Look, her cunny’s got feathers all over it where it should have hair.’
‘Bet they’re not real.’
‘They look real.’
Dee reached down, took hold of one of the larger feathers in the middle of her pubic delta and with a swift jerk plucked it out of her. Alice gave a shriek of pain. Dee held up the golden feather, which had a smear of blood on its quill.
‘They are real,’ Dee agreed. ‘And it’s pretty.’
‘I want it,’ Dum said.
‘This one’s mine. Get your own.’
Alice whimpered as Dum pulled a second feather from her pubes. ‘But what is she?’ he wondered as he admired his prize.
‘Maybe we should pull out some more until she tells us who she is?’ Dee suggested.
‘No, please don’t!’ Alice said quickly.
Their big mouths turning up into malicious grins, they pushed a squirming Alice further back into the holly bush. A hundred spines pricked her soft skin, making her yelp and bite her lip.
‘So tell us who you are, girling,’ Dum said.
‘It’s true,’ Alice gasped. ‘I don’t belong to anybody. Not on the Boardland, anyway. I’m working for the Red Queen. She wants me to find something for her.’
Dum and Dee exchanged curious glances, then frowned at Alice. ‘You’re lying,’ Dee said. ‘The chesspeople are all gone. Nobody’s seen them in years. We learnt that at school.’
‘Only we don’t go to school any more,’ Dum added. ‘School’s stupid. Now we do what we want. So as long as nobody’s going to come looking for you then, contrariwise, you belong to us.’
They were pressed against her, holding her close to the tormenting holly sprigs. She felt bulges growing in their trousers beneath their fat bellies and could almost smell their growing sense of power over her, even as her own resolve was melting away.
A broad unpleasant smile split Dee’s chubby face, which sent a shiver down Alice’s spine. ‘You mean we can do what we like with her? Have fun, punish her, like Old Meles’s girl but more? The way they do with other girlings?’
A mirror of the smile now distorted Dum’s features. ‘That’s right. Finders keepers, losers weepers. We keep her and make her weep. What’s your name, girl?’
‘Alice Brown,’ said Alice in a faint voice.
‘Say “Master” when you speak to us,’ Dee said, giving her nipple a pinch. ‘Cos we’re your masters now, and you’ve got to show proper respect.’
‘Yes, Master,’ Alice said wretchedly.
Between them they dragged Alice away from the pit. As they went Dum began to chant. The rhyme was all too familiar but its words were no longer nonsense. Instead they presented an ominous vision of Alice’s immediate future.
‘The time has come for Alice Brown,
To learn the way of things;
Of games her masters like to play,
And how much holly stings;
Or why a beating makes her hot,
And all the tears it brings.’
Dee took over.
‘We’ll take her to our secret place,
And teach her to obey;
After swishing sticks and many pricks,
She’ll do anything we say;
Our slave she’ll be, for otherwise,
Her pretty flesh we’ll flay.’
Holding Alice firmly between them, the pair pushed their way into a great mass of rhododendron and emerged into a small natural clearing at its centre. The space was littered with carelessly scattered tools, wooden boxes and odd lengths of rope and chain. In the midst of this, assorted boards, scraps of tarpaulin and old fence posts had been nailed and lashed into a rickety hut. painted over its sagging door were the words:
HEADQWARTERS (SECRET)
. Beside it was an equally rough and ready cage made out of slatting and chicken wire, with straw strewn over its floor.
‘We made that to keep a tove in,’ Dee said, as though inviting Alice to admire their handicraft skills.
‘Or a mome rath,’ Dum added.
‘But now it’ll do for you,’ Dee continued.
‘It’s very nice, Master,’ Alice said automatically,
thinking
wistfully of the fine cage she had shared with her lover Valerie.
‘Alice’ll be more fun to have than a tove or a mome rath,’ Dum said. ‘We can do girling things with her and also teach her tricks like a pet.’ He prodded Alice. ‘Can you learn to do tricks, girl?’
Alice found her mouth working without conscious thought as her instincts took over. ‘I’ll do whatever you tell me, Master.’ There was no point in protests now. She felt a frisson of dark excitement run though her as her senses heightened and her loins stirred in anticipation of what was to come. There would be pain and pleasure and she would embrace both to the full while keeping a small part of herself aloof from it. She was a helpless girling and that was her only power.
‘It’ll be dark soon,’ Dee said, ‘but we can have some fun with her now and start training her properly tomorrow. Get some rope and we can tie her up.’
‘You get the rope, I want to have her first,’ Dum said, pulling Alice towards him.
‘No, I’ll go first,’ Dee said. ‘The pit was my idea.’ And he jerked Alice back.