Spiff, his hands tied, sat on one of the chairs in the guardroom. Five of his fellow Borribles sat or stood near him, undecided. Skug and Norrarf were still absent on business of their own; Sydney was on guard in the tunnel.
‘This’ll get you nowhere,’ said Spiff. ‘Tying me up is stupid. You’ll get yourselves caught, that’s all.’ No one answered.
Spiff tried another tack. ‘Skug and Norrarf won’t put up with
this, you know, they’ll put a stop to it right away. They won’t give you any more grub if I say so, then what will you do?’
‘Just think,’ said Vulge, ‘our four mates working in that mine all these months and he didn’t tell us.’
‘I didn’t know for sure,’ answered Spiff, ‘and if I’d told you who would have believed me, eh? You didn’t even want to rescue Sydney’s horse so what chance did Knocker have?’
‘And they could have been killed any time,’ said Stonks. ‘That mud is only held back by bits of wooden scaffolding, it could collapse easy. We’ve got to get them out as soon as we can.’
‘You can’t do it without me,’ said Spiff. ‘You’ll make a mess of it.’
‘We did for the Rumbles,’ said Chalotte, ‘without your help.’
‘Rumbles, knickers,’ said Spiff with contempt. ‘This is different; this is Wendles, and Flinthead.’
‘You’ve no right to be a Borrible,’ said Chalotte, tossing her wild hair out of her eyes. She paused a moment and went on to say what she had been thinking all along. ‘We should clip your ears ourselves.’
Spiff paled and struggled with his bonds. ‘You cow,’ he said, ‘and you say I’m not Borrible. Can’t you understand, all I got in the way of messages from here was rumours. First the treasure was saved, then it was lost; then Knocker was dead, then he was alive. I thought that if we went to Fulham to look for the horse we’d get near enough to Wandsworth to pick up some real news, catch a Wendle maybe, ask him questions. Then there was the battle with the SBG and after that what happened, happened, without my help.’
‘We’re not cutting any ears, Chalotte,’ said Stonks. ‘Whatever Spiff might have planned, there’s enough clipping in the world without us joining in.’
‘Flinthead does it,’ said Chalotte defensively. She knew her friends were looking at her strangely.
‘That’s just it,’ said Bingo, ‘that’s why we don’t. We’re supposed to stick together, even if we do quarrel.’
‘This is getting us nowhere,’ said Vulge. ‘What’s certain is that our four friends are alive. Let’s get them out of here, and ourselves
as well. We’ve got a reason for being in Wendle country now, that alone makes me feel better. I’ll take on a Wendle or two.’
‘That’s more like it,’ said Bingo, ‘and we’re going to need everyone who can fight.’ He took out his knife and held it ready to release the prisoner. ‘What do yer say?’
‘I say no,’ said Chalotte, but she realized as she said it that the others would be against her.
Stonks looked at the faces of his fellow Adventurers and saw their thoughts. ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘cut him free, but he doesn’t give orders any more. It’s all down to us now.’
Bingo sliced through the cords that bound Spiff to his chair and put the knife back in his belt. Spiff got to his feet and smirked at Chalotte. ‘Right,’ he said, ‘what’s yer plan, because you’ll need one, a good one.’
Stonks cleared his throat. ‘I saw a lot of Wendle skiffs down on the Wandle mudflats,’ he said. ‘We’ll steal one and get over to the derrick, there’s only four guards; we’ll knock ’em out and throw ‘em down the shaft. Some of us can take their places so as not to arouse suspicion. I’ll go down the mine and free the others. Then we get in the boats and row down the Wandle until we come out on the Thames. If we do it at night the coppers on the river won’t see us. We’ll cross to the other bank and get into the streets before daylight, or we’ll row all the way down to Battersea, if the tide’s right. I don’t see any reason why it shouldn’t work.’
Spiff leant against the wall and gave a slow hand-clap. ‘Oh, great,’ he scoffed, ‘really great. And while you’re doing all this the Wendles on the bank are lolling back with their hands behind their heads saying, “Oh look, our prisoners are escaping, won’t Flinthead be pleased?” Ridiculous. What happens if they sink your boats? What happens if you’re forced into the tunnels? Are you going to carry Knocker and the others over your shoulders? You saw how weak Torreycanyon was; the other three will be the same, worse even. They won’t be able to walk, let alone fight. It won’t work.’
‘So what would you do?’ asked Stonks.
‘What would I do? I’d wait till the treasure’s found, and then,
when the excitement is high and the Wendles are celebrating, I’d move in and take the prisoners. You’d be halfway home before Flinthead realized you’d been here.’
‘Oh, no,’ cried Chalotte. ‘I can see him coming a mile off. He wants to wait till the treasure’s found so that he can try and take it with him, and get us to help him fight his way out. Not a chance.’
‘Chalotte’s right,’ said Vulge. ‘We got all messed up by the treasure in Rumbledom, let’s not do it again.’
‘That settles it,’ said Stonks. ‘We’ll attack tomorrow night. We’ll row out to the platform as if we were taking a message or changing the guard. I’ll try to entice the sentries into the shaft on some pretext and deal with them there. When I come out with the prisoners we’ll have to get the boats moving downstream as fast as we can and hope the Wendles on the bank don’t notice anything until we run. Vulge, Bingo and Sydney can come with me to the platform. Twilight and Chalotte will stay on the bank. If anything goes wrong, Chalotte, you’ll have to create a diversion in the tunnels. Fuse the lights, shout, anything, only make the Wendles chase you.’
‘Why leave us behind?’ asked Chalotte.
Stonks grinned, not something he did often. ‘Obvious,’ he said. ‘They won’t spot Twilight in the dark and you can’t stand Spiff so you’re the best person to keep an eye on him. We don’t know how far we can trust him now.’
‘We never could,’ said Chalotte, ‘only we didn’t know it.’
The insults rolled right over Spiff. He smiled ironically and helped himself to some food. ‘You lot better eat up,’ he said, ‘because you’re going to need every bit of strength you’ve got; and get some sleep too, you may not get any more for a day or two. I can tell you one thing though. I shall be watching your rescue attempt with great interest, and I shan’t lift a finger to help you.’
It was the middle of the night and Bingo couldn’t sleep. The ground was hard, but he was used to that. His blanket was grubby and smelt horribly, but he was used to that too. There was a song
running round and round in his head and he could not banish it. It was the song the Wendles sang when they were in triumph:
We are the Wendles of Wandsworth Town,
We’re always up and the others are down.
We’re rough and we’re tough and we don’t give a damn,
We are the elite of the Borrible clan.
Reach for your Rumble-sticks,
Try all your dirty tricks!
Nothing can beat us
And none shall defeat us.
Say a wrong word and we’ll hammer you down,
We are the Wendles of Wandsworth Town!
Bingo sighed and hoped the song wasn’t an evil omen. He threw the blanket from his shoulders and sat up. In the pitch darkness he got to his knees, crawled to the doorway and went outside, turned left and immediately bumped his head against the shaft of a spear. There was someone sitting there, on guard. Bingo drew back and stared into nothingness. He could not see a thing; it was like being blind.
‘Who’s that?’ he whispered.
A voice came back at him, a Wendle voice. ‘You tell me who you are, mush, or you’ll get two yard of spear up yer.’
‘I’m Bingo,’ said Bingo.
‘All right,’ said the voice, ‘but don’t creep about at night, you’ll get yourself killed. I’m Norrarf.’
‘I couldn’t sleep,’ said Bingo. ‘It’s so hot. I thought the air might be a bit cooler in the tunnel.’ He leant against the wall, stretched his legs out and looked to where he thought Norrarf was. ‘Can I ask you a question?’
Norrarf chuckled and it was no friendly chuckle. ‘You can always try … Don’t go in for idle conversation, us Wendles.’
‘Oh, it’s not idle,’ said Bingo, his tone as cheerful as ever. ‘I just wondered how long you’ve known Spiff. I mean, were you here when he was Borribled?’
Norrarf didn’t answer for a while. Bingo began to think he’d gone but then the Wendle spoke.
‘He was already here when I came, had been for ages, had more names than anyone else too, including Flinthead. A lot of people liked Spiff in those days, including me and Skug—still do—but Flinthead hated him, which was funny really seeing as the stories told how they were Borribled together, came from the same place and all that.’
‘Did they quarrel?’
‘All the time,’ said Norrarf, ‘but Spiff was always too smart so Flinthead started to spread rumours about him. He was jealous, see. Then he got a lot of cronies together and made them into a bodyguard and one day he had Spiff captured and staked him out on the mud and he left him there to drown at high tide. There was a sentry on duty to make sure he didn’t get away, and nobody could do a thing about it—too scared, most of ’em.’
‘Except maybe you and Skug,’ said Bingo, beginning to understand a little of the friendship that existed between the two Wendles and Spiff.
‘Me and Skug, we waited till the tide was right in, when Flinthead and the bodyguard thought it was all over … Spiff was almost dead, had the mud in his mouth, crawling up his nostrils, over his head. Then as the sentry walked away I did for him and Skug pulled Spiff out of the water; we brought him round and he went to Battersea.’
‘And the sentry?’
‘Dead. We put his body in Spiff’s place and he was eaten by the eels. All that was left at the next tide was a skeleton. Flinthead was as pleased as a dog with two tails … There was no one to stop him taking the whole tribe under his control. Later he heard that Spiff was alive after all but he never knew how it was done. That’s why he always has at least fifty of the bodyguard round him. He don’t know who to trust. Not every Wendle likes Flinthead you know; they’re just scared of him. Even Tron, I suppose, and he’s pretty brave.’
‘Tron doesn’t seem to be so bad,’ said Bingo.
‘He’s what he has to be, but what can he do? Flinthead don’t
trust nobody. He has three men watching Tron and three more men watching each of the men who’s watching Tron … and so it goes.’
‘Has Spiff got a plan, do you think?’ Bingo didn’t expect Norrarf to answer that question, but he did. Now that he had begun, he seemed to enjoy talking through the watches of the night.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘if you’re too thick to work it out for yourself then you must be dopey enough to tell. Spiff hates Flinthead, and perhaps he thinks that if he can get his hands on the treasure then most of the Wendles will go over to his side—that would be the end of Flinthead.’
‘Yes, but if Spiff got the treasure he might become as bad as Flinthead,’ said Bingo, ‘and anyway money’s not Borrible.’
‘I know that,’ said Norrarf, ‘but Spiff thinks any method that gets rid of Flinthead is a good method. Spiff’s craftier than anyone I’ve ever known. He can see round corners and tell you what happened tomorrow, he can. That girl with you says he ain’t Borrible at all, but he’s a damn sight more Borrible than Flinthead. Whichever way you look at it, getting his hands on that treasure is the only way he’s going to get your mates out alive. Borrible or not Borrible, that treasure’s a powerful weapon.’
‘Is that his plan?’ asked Bingo, his voice quickening with excitement.
Norrarf clicked his teeth in denial. ‘Nah, that’s just what I think, ain’t it? If you want to know any more you’d better ask him, I’ve talked too much already. You’d better get back.’
Bingo could feel the Wendle studying him in the dark. He stretched his eyes as wide as he could but saw nothing more than the pulsing of his own blood.
‘It takes years to get used to living down here,’ said Norrarf. ‘That’s why we’re the way we are, I suppose.’
Bingo got to his hands and knees and turned to crawl back to the guardroom. ‘Thanks, Norrarf,’ he said as he left, ‘thanks a lot.’
Norrarf did not bother to answer.
The next evening, when it was time, the Borribles gathered together and made ready to set off. They had checked their catapults;
each wore an extra bandolier and carried a Rumble-stick as well. They were indistinguishable from any band of Wendle warriors.
‘Right,’ said Stonks, ‘we’ll march along the tunnels as bold as brass; that way we’ll be taken for a relief guard on our way to a lookout point.’
Spiff sneered. ‘And you’d better get me to walk in front,’ he said, ‘otherwise you’ll get lost.’
‘Wait a minute,’ said Vulge, ‘where’s Norrarf and Skug?’
Spiff raised his eyebrows. ‘How should I know, they can’t nurse us all the time, can they? If we’re going, let’s go.’