Nostradormouse - Tinniswood Chris - Страница 6

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He surveyed his surroundings, and gave a series of eager chirps, to let The Great Woods know that the second guardian had returned to his station.

Pitamus Vole awoke a good many hours later, feeling refreshed despite having slept in an awkward position. It took him a few moments to recall who it was stirring his best copper pan on the stove, and when he did remember he cursed himself for allowing sleep to overtake him.

He rose to his feet and checked on the sleeping forms of his wife and two children. They looked so peaceful, snuggled up in bed together. How he missed their excitable chatter. The place seemed un-naturally quiet without it.

‘They’re on the mend,’ a soft voice said from behind him. Pitamus turned to the young dormouse; he was standing just behind his left shoulder, hands behind his back.

‘They are?’ he asked. The dormouse just smiled and nodded, then brought his hands out from behind his back. He held up a bunch of the long, slim plants that he had previously put under their pillows to keep them asleep. With his other hand, he pressed one finger to his mouth.

‘Let’s just say they won’t need these any more,’ he said.

The Vole’s mouth trembled and tears welled up in his eyes. Smiling, he let out a sigh of relief. ‘How can I thank-you?’ he said.

‘No need,’ said the dormouse, ‘Just take good care of them and make sure you give them regular doses of my nostrum. You’ll have to coax the elder of the two; he’s not partial to the taste.’

Pitamus chuckled and held out a hand. The dormouse shook it warmly. ‘You have a good family,’ he said, with a tinge of sadness edging his voice, ‘They are lucky to have a father like you.’

‘But I did nothing!’ exclaimed Pitamus, guiltily, ‘and I seem to have slept through their entire treatment!’

‘Ah… I may have had something to do with that,’ said the dormouse, and nodded his head briefly towards the foot of the bed. Pitamus followed the stranger’s gaze and his eyes fell upon a bunch of the same herbs that his new friend still held in his hand. He looked back at the dormouse, who had an awkward look on his face.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘I had to do something, otherwise you would have succumbed to nervous exhaustion, and then where would we be?’

A sigh from the bed interrupted their conversation, and Pitamus went over and sat on the edge, unable to disguise his happiness and relief. His wife opened her eyes and smiled.

‘Hello, sleepy-head,’ he said, stroking her face tenderly.

‘I could say the same to you!’ she answered, chuckling to herself. ‘Fancy falling asleep at the foot of the bed, leaving a complete stranger to nurse-maid us!’

Pitamus went a deep shade of scarlet, which for a dark grey vole is quite an achievement. He began to stammer an excuse, but then saw that his wife was stifling her laughter. He grinned, and turned to wag his finger at the dormouse, but he was nowhere to be seen.

‘Where did he go?’ he said. ‘I didn’t get a chance to apologise!’

‘Apologise for what?’ asked his wife.

‘For not trusting him.’

‘I already did that, so don’t worry. Anyway, he said he would slip away when he wasn’t needed any more. I don’t think he likes saying goodbye.’

A big yawn came from beside her, and the eldest of the two young voles awoke. His Mum gave him a kiss on the forehead, but when he saw his Dad, he summoned up the strength to clamber from his bedclothes and climbed into his arms.

‘Where’s Nostra, Daddy?’ he asked.

‘Where’s who?’ said Pitamus.

‘You know!’ said the young vole, ‘The Dormouse!’

His wife chuckled again. ‘During your forty winks,’ she explained to the puzzled Pitamus, ‘Our friend tried telling our curious son here what he was giving him to drink. Didn’t he, Piney?’

The youngster nodded. ‘But I was half asleep…’

‘You certainly were,’ she said, ‘and so, bless him; he thought that “Nostra” was his name! I think our friend rather liked that idea.’

‘Well, it definitely suits him,’ said Pitamus, putting his son back on the bed. ‘And I suppose “Nostra” named our son “Piney”, did he?’

His wife looked slightly guilty. ‘He might have,’ she said.

Pitamus looked sternly at her. ‘And what did he name you?’ he said.

‘Lina,’ answered his wife, fearing her husband would be angry.

‘Lina,’ repeated Pitamus.

He paced the floor for a few moments. Lina watched him anxiously. Eventually he smiled and Lina relaxed.

‘I suppose there’s a sort of symmetry to it all,’ he said, then went over to the stove and looked at the contents of the pan. He took a sniff and his eyes immediately began to water. He blinked in surprise and looked back at the bed. Piney pointed at him, giggling.

‘Does it taste as… lovely as it smells?’ he asked, wincing.

Piney mimed throwing up. His Mum grinned, shaking her head. ‘Oh, it’s not that bad!’ she said, ‘Once you get used to it.’

‘I’ll take your word for it,’ said Pitamus, and then frowned.

‘What is it, dear?’ asked his wife.

‘Just something he said to me when we met. He said, “I have yet to earn my name.” Almost as if he knew what Piney would say…’

‘Maybe he did,’ she replied. ‘Maybe he really can tell the future!’

‘Yes,’ agreed Pitamus, stirring the pan, ‘I think he probably can.’

Outside, the young dormouse reached the river bank. He stopped to have a drink, and caught the reflection of the moon in the water. He began to follow the winding trail of the river through the woods, when he became aware of someone or something swimming alongside him in the darkness. He could hear the quiet lapping of the water. Panic took hold of him. What if it were some creature that wanted to eat him? He shivered involuntarily, and was about to run, when Find’s voice sent a wave of calm through him and he knew who it was.

‘What can I do for you, Arvic?’ he asked, without stopping.

There was a splash from behind him and a spluttering sound. He turned towards a large vole, who was struggling out of the water, an astounded look on his face.

‘What did you call me?’ he said.

‘Arvic,’ replied the dormouse. ‘It’s your name.’

‘It is?’ said the vole. ‘Are you sure?’

‘I’m sure. Say it to yourself and see.’

Arvic considered this for a while; he felt a warm glow whenever he thought the name.

‘How did you know?’ he asked, and added, a little sheepishly, ‘…when I didn’t?’

‘I know many things, Arvic. I know, for instance, that you will meet a lovely young Vole called Clethrion, fall madly in love and have a large family. I know that you will soon need the help of your cousin, Pitamus, and that your debt to him will lead to you travelling a long way. I know, also, that this will not be our last meeting.’

‘Oh,’ said Arvic, thoughtfully, ‘Well, that told me, didn’t it?’

The dormouse smiled. I’m getting the hang of this prophet lark,he thought, and turned back to continue his journey.

‘So how come this Clethrion already has a name?’ asked Arvic.

The dormouse continued walking, but raised an eyebrow, and said, ‘because I just named her.’

‘But,’ said Arvic, determined to catch him out, ‘she won’t knowit’s her name, will she? She wasn’t here to hear you say it!’

The dormouse still didn’t stop, but quite enjoyed the challenge. ‘She’ll know in her heart, just as you did.’

‘So, what’s your name, then?’ asked Arvic, ‘So I may greet you properly when we meet again?’

‘My name?’ said the dormouse, halting in his tracks. He turned his head and looked the Vole in the eye. ‘My name… is Nostra.’

‘And what manner of creature are you?’ continued Arvic.

‘I am a dormouse,’ he replied, ‘the first of my kind.’

‘I see,’ said Arvic. ‘Well, then, Nostra Dormouse, I bid you farewell until we meet again.’ And with a quick flick of his tail, Arvic Vole slipped silently back into the river, leaving his new acquaintance to continue his solitary path.

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