“What with?”
“With a lot of questions which I think I need to ask, and which you need to answer, because I have a feeling there is not so much time left.”
“No, there isn’t,” said Madoc, “because Longest Night is tomorrow, and that’s when it’s all going to happen, isn’t it? That’s why they wanted you out of the way down here with us females.”
“Is it?”
“Is that the first question?”
“Of many, my dear,” said Privet stancing down, feeling suddenly quite sure that she might be “out of the way’, but she was in the right place, at the right time, with the right mole, and that if she was going to find an answer to the question she had asked herself about how she might do something “exemplary” it might well be here that she would find a clue to what it was.
Chapter Twenty
But there were moles other than Privet who had the feeling that same dull afternoon that questions they had so long been asking might soon be answered – though perhaps not in a way, or a place, of their choosing.
After a long and impatient wait in the chamber where they had been isolated, Whillan and Maple had been forced against all their instincts and wishes out to the surface, and from there up the steep side of Caer Caradoc, utterly impotent against the power of their escort of six guards. Naturally they protested at Privet’s and Weeth’s absence and demanded to know where they were, and why the promise to return them had not been kept, but it got them nowhere.
It is hard to demand anything for long of moles who do not reply, but stare all stony-eyed and say, with a faith and conviction that subordinates intelligence, that “it’s for everymole’s own good” and “for the best”.
“What’s for everymole’s good? Should we not be free to judge what’s best for us?”
But their protests waned the higher they climbed, and they resolved to stay resolute and together, and do what they could when they reached the top of Caradoc itself So angry and concerned were they on their friends’ behalf that they had no time to think about what might have concerned most others, and should perhaps have most concerned them: their own safety among such tough expressionless moles as those that forced them on.
Yet even Whillan and Maple, brave as they were turning out to be, and unconcerned with personal safety, could not but think the Stone was giving them due warning of real danger on the top when, a little way before they reached it, black rooks gyred along Caradoc’s steep south-eastern edge, their wings ragged, their grey beaks sharp as they opened to emit rasping calls. Then, at the top itself, which mole should be waiting in the shadow of a rock, with a flocking of flapping rooks all about making such a din they could not hear his first words of hypocritical greeting, but Snyde himself.
The flattish summit of Caer Caradoc stretched beyond him, roughly rectangular, the other longer side straight ahead. Nothing but sky was visible beyond it, adding greatly to the sense that here at Caradoc they were on top of moledom itself. To the left flank, or south, the ground dropped away slightly, covered in tussocky grass, while to the right, or north, it rose up to end in an impressive cluster of Stones, russet in colour and stolid of form; the place to which a mole’s eye was most naturally drawn.
“Ah, so good to see you,” smirked Snyde.
“Where’s Privet, mole?” demanded Maple immediately, looming over him so fiercely that the Newborn guards put out paws to restrain him.
“Ah, yes. It was decided, that is to say that Senior Brother Chervil felt it best, that she would be safest away from here during the Convocation.”
“Why?”
“She is a female. Tempers may rise during the coming debates and most moles here do not expect or think it right that females should participate. They get emotional. They can’t think straight.”
“You didn’t warn us of this,” said Whillan. “And you know it to be untrue of Privet.”
“My dear mole,” said Snyde, doing his best to sound avuncular, “I did not know this would be the decision. I am but one delegate among many.”
“Where is she?”
“I understand she is safe,” said Snyde slowly. He plainly did not know where she was, and yet he tried to say the word “safe” with reassuring conviction. “Senior Brother Chervil himself told me that and I think it is true.” Strangely, he sounded disappointed, so perhaps it was true.
“And Weeth?”
Snyde’s eyes hardened still more. “As a disaffected Newborn he is not welcome on Caer Caradoc, and in any case he is not an official part of any delegation.”
“He is with me,” said Maple.
“You!” said Snyde, his eyes contemptuous. “You are not part of Duncton’s delegation. You are a mere protector of moles, Maple. I do not wish to seem disrespectful, but your role is somewhat limited and, now we have arrived, redundant. Nevertheless, I felt it only courteous to arrange for you to be allowed up here with us in these coming days of deliberation, though clearly your role will be merely that of an observer. But, well, since a number of other systems have much larger delegations than our own – a matter that Master Stour could have taken my advice on if he had bothered to consult me...” He paused, clearly expecting a look of acknowledgement or even a word of thanks from the infuriated Maple, whose experience on the journey of late had been one of increasing frustration. Maple only stared stonily at him, so Snyde turned to Whillan and fixed him with his smug, weaselly gaze.
“You, mole, may take Privet’s place and, if I give permission, you may perhaps say a word or two,” he said, turning away so dismissively that Maple, for one, would have forgiven Whillan if he had seized the jumped-up little scholar by the snout and unceremoniously hurled him over the steepest side of Caer Caradoc. To Whillan’s credit, however, he barely showed displeasure on his face, though his eyes narrowed dangerously as he nodded his understanding of what Snyde had said.
“I will only speak if you suggest it. Deputy Master,” he said.
“And Weeth?” said Maple. “Where is he?”
“Where he should be,” said Snyde, “with other potential trouble-makers in a cell, from which he will not be released until the Convocation is finished and dispersing. And before you raise the matter, Maple, I have complete assurances that he will be safe, though why I should have felt it necessary to petition on behalf of a mole who is not of Duncton I cannot think. Now, follow me, for we have been assigned to quarters and are to be briefed by one of the Senior Brother Inquisitors before long.”
With this, Snyde led them off, accompanied by some of the Newborn guards, passing by other groups similar to themselves who were hurrying to and fro on the surface before dropping down into entrances, as they now did, to the great airy, arched tunnels underneath. Here pawsteps echoed everywhere, and there was the muted muttering of voices in tunnel and chamber, at comer and turn, in ante-chamber and side tunnel, talking and whispering and falling silent meaningfully as others went by, as moles do in the days and hours before a great Convocation begins.
“Oh, and do not try to wander,” said Snyde with forced casualness, and a tight smile. “The Elder Senior Brother Thripp has given instructions that nomole is to leave once they have arrived.”
“And what moles will enforce that?” asked Whillan as innocently as he could, and casting a glance at Maple.
“Senior Brother Inquisitor Quail’s minions and guards, I expect,” said Snyde, “but that need not worry us, need it?”
“Of course not. Deputy Master,” said Maple heavily, his eyes already assessing the route they were taking, and pondering future options for escape.
As they followed on after Snyde they heard the cawing of rooks out in the sky above the surface, and at one of the entrances they passed, Whillan drew Maple’s attention to a high and noisy flocking of rooks above the hill. They flew about in fractious and fretful excitement, and kept diving at each other as if they had seen a vision of bloody carrion across Caer Caradoc, and were already squabbling over which was to take up the first morse
l of the coming carnage.
Their passage over Caer Caradoc and through some of its tunnels told them a good deal about the arrangement of the hilltop system, and eventually brought them to a communal chamber busy with moles from whom they soon learnt a great deal more.
There was not a female in sight, and earlier impressions they had gained of the Newborn society being male-dominated, which Privet’s account of Blagrove Slide had suggested, were now amply confirmed. Whillan and Maple had lost track of the various ranks of the Newborns – the brothers, the Inquisitors, the senior Brothers, the minions, not to mention the delegates – but it was obvious enough that there were moles of all these ranks present, huddled in whispering cabals in corners, or going purposefully about the adjacent tunnels in ones and twos. There was a general air of final preparation, and occasionally the normal chilly reserve of the Newborns was broken by some rushing or panic-stricken mole who, it seemed, had discovered some problem or other which he was trying to put right before the morrow.
Here and there Whillan saw dusty, travel-stained moles, and from this and their more relaxed and frankly curious manner, compared to the neat and generally expressionless Newborns, it was easy enough to make out which were delegates from afar like themselves.
These moles kept together, and though it was unfortunately true that Snyde attracted a lot of attention – partly from his curious and twisted appearance, but also because he had the dutiful attentions of one or two Newborn brothers – it was a group of dark, large, rough-looking moles who drew the most glances for a time. Though they seemed to try to talk in whispers, yet their voices were deep and growly, and their laughs rasping yet melodious.
“Siabod moles, it seems,” whispered Maple, after he had managed to have a brief conversation with another visitor nearby where they had stopped. “We must make ourselves known to them. The Siabod system was friendly to Duncton in the old days.”
“Mandrake came from there,” whispered Whillan, invoking the name of the fearsome Siabod mole the resistance to whose tyranny in Duncton more than a century before, many historians claim, marks the true beginning of the emergence of modem Duncton as a force for good in moledom.
Maple nodded, and they stanced together making out what they could of the confusing busy-ness about them as they waited for Snyde to find out from the Newborn officials where they were to have quarters.
Their wait continued, and as evening advanced more moles arrived, and they found that provided they did not attempt to reach the surface they were permitted a degree of freedom to wander about and talk to others, though not the Siabod moles, who had gone off for a time. They were able to piece together the expected arrangements for the Convocation the next day, and found consolation and some reassurance in the fact that amongst the visitors were a good few like themselves, who were not of the Newborn persuasion at all. Many expressed the same fears of the outcome of the Convocation, and gave reports of minor repressions in their systems as the Newborns had gradually gained support in recent moleyears – usually among the females and moles in less wormful areas – until they had ascendancy. In only a few cases had there been physical repression, though most moles had heard, if only indirectly, of the harshness of the exemplary punishments meted out to those who, having committed themselves to the Newborn way, had strayed from their vows or the rigours of the routine rituals.
Snyde returned and took them the short distance to their quarters, which turned out to be a recently-delved chamber accommodating four – themselves and a Newborn guard. If that was not enough to serve as a way of watching over them, their chamber was separated from those of other visitors by tunnels and chambers occupied by Newborns.
“I think we should not take this as a sign they are spying on us in any way,” said Snyde in all apparent seriousness, “but rather as an expression of the Newborn wish that strangers such as yourselves (I think they accept me as an equal they can respect) may gain by fraternizing with them in these few days of harmony and intercourse. Now, if you don’t mind, I believe that Senior Brother Quail himself wishes to see a number of us more senior delegates, and to give us a task.”
“‘Harmony and intercourse’!” repeated Whillan ironically when Snyde was out of the way again. “That’s a laugh. I wonder what his task can be, and whether he’ll take advantage of the opportunity to report us as blasphemers to Quail himself.”
“Well, while he’s gone I suggest we get off our rumps and find out what we can from other moles in the main communal chambers,” said Maple.
They decided to separate and talk with as many different moles as they could before meeting up again later to find out what each had discovered.
It turned out that the air was thick with rumour and surmise, but enough different sources, including a few Newborns who proved open to conversation, agreed on a few basics for the two Duncton moles to be able to work out what was likely to happen officially, and unofficially, in the next few days.
The Convocation itself was to be held in a great chamber some way from the Stones, which had been specially delved for the occasion. It was to start in the middle of the following morning and its first day would end with celebrations for Longest Night. Thripp would be formally declaring it open and though the matters to be discussed remained unclear, it seemed they had to do with the ordering of moledom’s major and minor libraries, and the Newborns’ desire to rationalize the existing texts in them so that all moles, wherever they might be, would have the same opportunity for study and education. At the same time, there would be some public confessions made, presumably by moles who wanted to set an example to others of piety, or show remorse for sins committed.
“If there’s an opportunity to speak out against the Newborn ways I’ll take it,” said Whillan, “especially in my... Privet’s absence, because she would certainly have said her piece, with or without Snyde’s permission.”
“We’ll see how things go before you open your mouth, Whillan!” responded Maple. “Having an open and free debate may be their way of finding out which moles to get rid of first!”
“Certainly things are not as they seem to be,” said Whillan. “Did you hear what some are saying about Thripp?”
“Being ill? And Quail taking more and more power?”
Both moles had heard more or less the same story, and one confirmed already, though they did not know it, by what Chervil had privately told Privet concerning Thripp’s state of health.
Whether or not it had been secret then, it was general knowledge now that Thripp had suffered a mysterious ailment which had left him weak for molemonths past, though with his mind alert. For personal assistance he now relied on a few loyal old moles, who had no doubt been his aides for many years; but for matters of moledom, and the development of the Caradocian Order, as the Newborn brethren were formally known, it seemed that a power struggle had developed between himself and Quail for control of the group of twelve Senior Brothers.
It seemed that originally Quail had simply been one of these twelve, and the Inquisitors had reported directly to Thripp himself But he had of necessity delegated this taxing task to one of the twelve, and had chosen Quail, who had succeeded over recent moleyears in placing moles loyal to himself in the main Senior Brother positions. At the same time. Inquisitors had been able to point the talon of sin and guilt for breaking vows at one after another of the Senior Brothers most loyal to Thripp, and having ousted these individuals Quail got his own Inquisitors appointed, the most senior of whom was a sadistic disciplinarian called Skua.
This much seemed certain, and moles were in little doubt that the long struggle between Thripp and Quail was now coming to a head.
“What’s remarkable,” reported Whillan, “is that Thripp has kept power for so long, but I’m told he’s a mole of considerable charm and charisma, and ordinary Newborns revere and adore him, and almost worship the ground he stances on. Because of that Quail has never yet dared try to oust him openly, but the talk is that he might attempt it at this Con
vocation.”
“But wasn’t it Thripp who summoned it in the first place?”
“Aye, it was,” said Whillan. “And I heard from a Cannock mole that he did so precisely because it was the only way left to him to regain control over the direction the Caradocian Order was taking. Originally that was what the discussion was going to be about, but, as we’ve heard, now it’s all about libraries, censorship and so on, which though important avoid the real issue, which is whatmole is to control the Newborns in the future – Thripp or Quail.”
“Aye, I heard something similar,” said Maple. “Because the twelve Senior Brothers are now under Quail’s control they’ve succeeded in changing the agenda and made the Convocation meaningless as a place of discussion...”
“... and meanwhile, if Weeth is to be believed, which I think he is, Quail’s representatives are taking control of all the main libraries and a lot of the lesser ones right now – just as Master Stour predicted. While it’s true that what’s discussed here is of secondary importance I’ll wager that Quail will want an outcome that favours censorship of non-Newborn-approved texts so that when all this is over he can claim that his Inquisitors have been given the right to continue to impose their control.” Whillan paused and looked about the busy chamber. 1 could do with some fresh air, Maple. I feel this place is tainted.”
Maple shook his head and stayed where he was. “We shall do nothing to draw attention to ourselves. I have no idea what the two of us can do, separated from friends, not knowing which moles about here to trust, and with Newborn guards at every turn, but I’ll tell you the strangest thing: I’ve never felt more certain that there must be something we can do. The Stone has brought us here for a purpose, and if we can get out of Caradoc alive than we’ll be in a better position to help defend liberty of worship of the Stone because we were here.
“But we’ve seen how ruthless the Newborns can be when Quail has his way – and I wouldn’t be so certain of Thripp either. No, we stance tight, listen well, and say nothing – and though I know you want to speak up in Privet’s absence for the things she believes and would defend, we’ll go very cautiously indeed and discuss things before we do them – as Chater would have said.”