Rumo: And His Miraculous Adventures

‘Yes, I do, but thanks for the tip. I don’t like moving around on something that’s moving around itself.’

  ‘People call it ice, but it’s only another name for water. You never know exactly how thick a layer separates you from the liquid form, ha ha!’

  Rumo tried to take his mind off the cold and Dandelion’s chatter by striding out resolutely and submitting his bleak surroundings to closer inspection. Here and there, tilted ice floes jutted from the frozen waste like bizarre sculptures. Some of them resembled snow-clad buildings or fir trees, others distant mountains.

  The wind blew steadily across the ice, driving fine snow between Rumo’s legs. Its monotonous piping whistle, the occasional ominous crack of the ice and the crunch of powder snow beneath his feet were the only sounds he heard for the next few hours – apart from Dandelion’s periodic comments.

  ‘Drowning in cold water is said to be one of the worst deaths of all. You freeze to death and drown simultaneously,’ Dandelion remarked after a while. ‘You die twice over, so to speak.’

  Rumo trudged on without a word. That was still the best policy. Contradicting Dandelion only encouraged him. Ignore him and he might eventually dry up of his own accord.

  ‘It’s also conceivable that it’s the kind of death that keeps you fully conscious to the last. Dunked in freezing water? You’d be wide awake!’

  Rumo would almost have preferred Krindle’s cynical, life– and death-defying comments.

  ‘I’m wondering which works quicker. Does icy water freeze you to death before you drown, or do you drown before you freeze to death?’

  ‘Another remark like that and I’ll stick you in the ice and leave you behind.’

  ‘Empty threats don’t scare me. I’m the only weapon you’ve got. You’d guard me like the apple of your eye, even if I were a rusty knitting needle, ha ha!’

  Rumo growled.

  ‘Blockhead!’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I called you a blockhead, you blockhead,’ Dandelion said impudently.

  Rumo gave another growl.

  ‘That’s right, growl away. I can call you anything I like and you can’t do a thing about it. You’re dependent on me. From your angle, I’m the world’s most precious weapon, ha ha!’

  ‘I warn you!’

  ‘Sure, warn away. Nincompoop! Imbecile! Card game!’

  ‘Don’t push me too far!’

  But Dandelion’s exuberance ran away with him. He broke into a childish sing-song: ‘Rumo is a card game, Rumo is a card game, Rumo is a …’

  Rumo drew Dandelion from his belt, stuck him in the ice and plodded on.

  ‘Hey, Rumo!’ Dandelion called. ‘What are you playing at?’

  Rumo’s figure rapidly receded.

  ‘Rumo! Don’t be silly, I was only joking!’

  Rumo strode on without a backward glance. Dandelion’s voice grew fainter.

  ‘Rumo! Please! I’ll never do it again, word of honour!’

  Rumo paused and turned round.

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘I swear it! I swear it!’

  ‘Say it, then.’

  ‘I swear I’ll never be cheeky again.’

  ‘And you’ll only speak when spoken to?’

  ‘That too! Anything, anything!’

  Rumo plodded back, tugged his sword out of the ice and replaced it in his belt.

  ‘My, that was cold!’ said Dandelion. ‘If the water beneath is only half as—’

  ‘Dandelion!’

  ‘All right! I’ll shut up!’

  ‘You will walk across a lake dry-shod …’

  The ice had stopped creaking under Rumo’s weight some time ago. On the contrary, it seemed to be growing thicker and stronger. He had left the furry little creatures behind, but he was perturbed to see other creatures deeply embedded in the ice beneath him: Kackerbats, plump fish, and animals resembling seals with long claws and beaks. A polar bear, which lay stretched out on its back, seemed to be waving its right forepaw at him.

  Rumo suddenly recalled Posko’s prophecy: ‘You will walk across a lake dry-shod …’ There was some more, but he couldn’t remember it.

  ‘How did all these animals get into the ice?’ he wondered aloud.

  ‘They fell in, how else?’ said Dandelion.

  ‘But the ice here is much thicker than it was.’

  ‘Even thick ice can break.’

  ‘Shut up!’ snapped Rumo.

  He came to a halt. Not far ahead of him two huge ice formations jutted from the lake. They were bigger than the ones he’d passed earlier.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I don’t know. I can’t smell anything, but I thought I saw something move.’

  ‘If the ice started moving we’d be in trouble.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I mean, if the ice suddenly started moving, out here in the middle of the lake, we’d be in a devil of a—’

  ‘Stop yakking!’

  The Icemagogs

  Rumo drew his sword and trudged towards the white shapes. From a distance the piled-up ice floes looked like half-submerged giants with dripping beards; after another fifty paces like the battlements of a many-turreted castle; and after another hundred like ghosts frozen stiff by the icy wind at the climax of some wild dance. By the time Rumo was standing precisely midway between them, they looked like ice floes that had tilted and become hopelessly wedged together. There was no sign of life. He’d been mistaken.

  ‘Watch out!’ yelled Dandelion and Rumo instinctively ducked. Something whizzed over his head. He heard the air part with a hiss as if cloven by a mighty sword stroke. He spun round and straightened up. Nothing. Nobody there, least of all anyone armed with a sword. Just the piled-up, windswept ice floes, frozen in time.

  ‘What was that?’ asked Rumo.

  ‘Watch out!’ Dandelion yelled again. Rumo dropped to his knees in a flash. Once again something hissed over his head, but this time he turned fast enough to see an ice floe shaped like a long, sharp tongue disappear into the ice sculpture behind him. He remained on his knees, sword in hand.

  ‘You will cross swords with Living Water …’ The second part of Posko’s prophecy came back to him.

  ‘Icemagogs,’ said Dandelion. ‘Skullop mentioned them.’

  ‘They can move,’ Rumo whispered.

  ‘They can kill, too,’ Dandelion whispered back. ‘Remember those dead animals in the ice?’

  Rumo deliberated. Two Icemagogs, one ahead of him, one behind, and both capable of using ice as a weapon. On the other hand they were frozen to the spot. He had only to take a few more steps to be out of their range.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ Dandelion said.

  Rumo rose to his feet but remained at a crouch. Step by step, slowly and cautiously, he started to slink away.

  The Icemagogs didn’t stir.

  ‘Keep going,’ Dandelion whispered. ‘Just keep going …’

  Rumo backed away, step by cautious step, until the Icemagogs couldn’t have reached him even with their biggest and longest floes – unless, of course, they were capable of throwing them.

  A sudden, almighty crack rent the air, as if the frozen lake had splintered all the way to the horizon. The right-hand Icemagog had abruptly come to life. Its entire body got under way, seemingly propelled along by an invisible hand. Ice floes disintegrated, white slivers flew through the air, snow rained down and the icy surface beneath Rumo’s feet gave an ominous lurch. The monster now resembled a frozen giant chest-deep in snow and thrusting itself along with its arms. Within seconds it had changed position a good twenty yards and cut off Rumo’s retreat.

  With a crunch and a hiss the channel opened up by the Icemagog’s progress promptly froze over again. There was another crack and the other Icemagog moved in Rumo’s direction, ice splintering in all directions. The floes parted with a series of ear-splitting reports and rearranged themselves, twice, three times, until the Icemagog came to a halt in front of him. The splintered ice in i
ts wake, too, froze together again. Rumo just stood there, spellbound by these incredible developments. He was being hunted by living ice! The Icemagogs had cornered him like a pair of huge white chessmen.

  ‘You can get past on the left or right!’ whispered Dandelion. ‘Get out of here fast!’

  Rumo didn’t hesitate for long. He tucked his head in and dashed to the right. At that moment the ice ahead of him burst asunder, creating a wide channel filled with inky black water. He just managed to stop in time, teetered on the edge for a moment, recovered his balance, took a step to the rear, turned and sprinted at a crouch in the other direction. An ice floe came crashing down like a guillotine, just in front of him. He vaulted over it, landed on all fours, performed a forward roll and regained his feet. With an ominous crack, the other monster thrust at him with an icicle. He ducked and the crystalline blade skewered thin air. He straightened up and started to run on, but the ice split open ahead of him once more. Many feet wide, the channel filled up with swirling water. Before and behind him were the Icemagogs, to left and right the insurmountable channels.

  ‘We’re trapped,’ said Dandelion.

  The monsters shifted restlessly to and fro, their ice floes rhythmically sliding apart and grinding together again.

  ‘Keep an eye on the one behind me,’ Rumo told Dandelion.

  The Icemagogs were creaking and groaning in turn. Could this be a form of communication? For a while they merely shuffled to and fro, emitting noises that might have been a heated argument.

  Suddenly there was a sound like breaking glass, possibly an Icemagog’s exclamation. From the monster facing Rumo sprouted two enormous blades of ice, longer and broader than the biggest broadsword imaginable.

  The other Icemagog gave an answering cry and sprouted two blades of its own.

  ‘Four swords against one,’ said Rumo, swapping Dandelion from hand to hand.

  ‘Yes,’ Dandelion whispered. ‘We could use some help from an experienced warrior. It’s time you made your presence felt, Krindle! We know you’re there.’

  But Krindle didn’t answer.

  The Icemagog in front of Rumo split open along its breadth. Its ice floes parted like the lips of a giant fish and Rumo found himself looking into a maw full of murky water. With a horrid gurgle it vomited copiously. The stream of water landed right at Rumo’s feet, swirled round his boots and instantly transformed itself into a glassy sheet of ice. Three plump, shiny golden fish flapped around on it, desperately gasping for breath.

  ‘I wouldn’t put anything past them!’ Dandelion exclaimed.

  Rumo positioned himself, legs apart, so that one of the monsters was on his right and the other on his left. He raised his sword and prepared to resist their onslaught.

  ‘The first attack will come from the right,’ Dandelion said.

  ‘You mean you can hear what they’re thinking?’

  ‘Yes, but I don’t understand their language, it’s too icy. Somehow, though, the thoughts coming from the right sound angrier, so—’

  There was another clatter, and the first attack – a fierce horizontal thrust – really did come from the right. Rumo decided to duck instead of parrying it. The blow whistled overhead, missing him, but a second one was already on its way, this time from the left. Rumo evaded it with a backward somersault.

  Under prevailing circumstances acrobatic feats of this kind were inadvisable. No sooner had his feet touched the ice than he performed a brief, grotesque dance and landed on his back.

  Rumo had no choice but to parry the next blow from a supine position. He was astonished at how easily Dandelion shattered the big blade of ice. It disintegrated into countless little fragments that peppered him like a hailstorm. Another furious clatter and the monster swung its second blade, but Rumo parried that blow too, transforming his adversary’s weapon into an explosion of ice crystals. One of the Icemagogs, at least, had been disarmed.

  ‘Well done!’ Dandelion said approvingly. ‘But you’d better get up now.’

  Rumo rose and turned to face the other Icemagog. It recoiled, emitted a long-drawn-out clatter – and retracted its blades.

  ‘The boot’s on the other foot!’ cried Dandelion. ‘You’ve scared them.’

  The Icemagogs seemed to be conferring in their noisy language.

  ‘They don’t know what to do,’ Dandelion whispered. ‘Frozen water is their only w—’

  His words were interrupted by a sudden crack and the ice yawned beneath Rumo’s feet. The monsters had abruptly reared up, shattering the lake’s frozen surface into a number of small ice floes. Rumo flailed his arms wildly in an attempt to keep his footing on one of them.

  ‘Stick me in your belt!’ Dandelion screamed. ‘Don’t let go of me or we’ll both be done for!’

  Rumo thrust the sword into his belt, but in so doing he finally overbalanced. The ice floe capsised, pitching him into the inky water.

  He came to the surface, took a deep breath, and saw the Icemagogs bending over him curiously. Then the swirling water dragged him under again. To his horror he heard the ice floes grind together as they closed over his head.

  ‘You’ll have to swim for it!’ Dandelion cried. ‘Swim away and cut a hole in the ice, it’s our only hope!’

  ‘I can’t swim,’ thought Rumo. ‘I don’t know how.’

  ‘That makes two of us,’ said Dandelion. ‘I can’t swim either.’

  ‘Then I’ll have to die.’

  ‘I can swim.’ That was Krindle’s deep, dark voice. He was back again.

  ‘Krindle! Where have you been all this time?’ Dandelion demanded.

  ‘I haven’t been anywhere. I was insulted.’

  ‘Can you really swim?’

  ‘Yes, I can.’

  ‘Teach Rumo, then! Quickly!’

  ‘No. I’m only breaking my silence to tell you that I could help you, but I won’t. Why should I help someone who won’t even do me the tiniest little favour?’

  ‘Krindle!’ Rumo pleaded. ‘I’m running out of air!’

  ‘So what? I couldn’t care less.’

  ‘Krindle!’ Dandelion said fiercely. ‘If you don’t help us, the following will happen: Rumo will drown, but the two of us will sink to the bottom of this lake and lie there for a very long time. Just us two, all alone in the icy water. And I swear I’ll drive you insane with my yakking.’

  Krindle seemed to be considering this.

  ‘Will you promise to kill Skullop the Scyther if we meet him again?’

  ‘Yes, yes!’ Rumo telepathised desperately. ‘I promise.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Krindle. ‘You must raise your hands above your head with the palms facing outwards, then force your arms to the rear.’

  Rumo followed Krindle’s instructions. His head collided with the layer of ice.

  ‘You see? It’s easy – you simply push the water away. But you must also move your legs. Ever seen a frog swimming?’

  Rumo imitated the leg movements of a frog and forced his arms backwards at the same time. He glided along under the ice.

  ‘And again!’

  Rumo’s lungs were bursting, but he resisted the fatal temptation to open his mouth and gasp for air.

  ‘And again!’

  Every stroke put a little more distance between Rumo and the Icemagogs, but every stroke made the pain in his chest more unbearable.

  ‘And again!’

  ‘I can’t go on!’ thought Rumo. ‘I’ve run out of air!’

  ‘And again!’ Krindle ordered sternly.

  Rumo performed a final stroke. Red lights were dancing in front of his eyes and his head was ringing like a bell.

  ‘Here!’ said Krindle. ‘This is where the ice is thinnest.’

  Rumo drew his sword and drove it into the ice with all his might.

  ‘Harder!’

  He thrust it in again.

  ‘Harder still!’ Krindle commanded.

  ‘Go on!’ cried Dandelion.

  Another thrust and the blade went rig
ht through.

  Rumo applied his lips to the hole and sucked air deep into his lungs. Ice crystals filled his mouth. He replaced his sword in the hole and levered it to and fro, breaking off bigger and bigger chunks of ice. Before long the hole was wide enough for him to put his head through. He drank in the ice-cold air like someone dying of thirst.

  Not far away he sighted the Icemagogs. They were still bending over the frozen expanse between them, probably wondering where their prey had got to.

  ‘Rumo can swim,’ said Dandelion.

  Rumo leaves the Fridgicaves behind

  Rumo reached the end of the frozen lake after another half-day’s march. Although he hadn’t encountered any more Icemagogs, he felt as if they were keeping up the pursuit by trying to freeze his body via his feet. The lake’s frigid expanse seemed to be a single coherent organism whose sole aim was to kill anything or anyone that crossed it. Rumo dared not call a halt. He knew that it would have been fatal to sit down and rest. Parts of his clothing and fur were glazed with ice, and physical exertion was all that could save him from freezing to death.

  He trudged on and on until he suddenly spotted one of the furry little creatures with hooked beaks. It was staggering clumsily around on the ice.

  ‘Look,’ he said, ‘an animal!’

  He spotted another, then a third and a fourth. The black dots beyond them could only be more of their kind.

  ‘Where there are animals,’ Dandelion observed, ‘there must be land – unless they’re fish, of course.’

  The ice was now swarming with more and more of the furry little creatures, which were chipping away at it with their beaks, breaking off fragments and munching them. Not far off Rumo saw the frozen expanse give way to black rocks overgrown with dark-blue moss. The rocks rose in a series of terraces and disappeared into the gloom overhead.

  Rumo felt better when he stepped on to terra firma, convinced only then that he had finally eluded the Icemagogs. He scooped up some powder snow and slaked his thirst. Then he started to climb.

  The air became warmer when he had been climbing for several hours. More and more of the furry little creatures were roaming around up here. The holes from which they emerged steadily increased in size from terrace to terrace until they were big enough for Rumo to have stood up in them. The little creatures swarmed around his feet uttering high-pitched squawks.