Chris Tinniswood - Nostradormouse

Nostradormouse

ChrisTinniswood

SmashwordsEdition

First publishedin 2009 by Histrionic Downs

Text andillustrations copyright (c) Chris Tinniswood 2009

The moral rightof Chris Tinniswood to be identified as the author of this work

has beenasserted by him in accordance with the

Copyright,Designs and Patents Act, 1988

This ebook islicensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not bere-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to sharethis book with another person, please purchase an additional copyfor each person you share it with. If youre reading this book anddid not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only,then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your owncopy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a workof fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons (or animals!),

living or dead,is entirely coincidental.

All rightsreserved.

http://www.histrionicdowns.com

ISBN:978-0-9561611-0-9

Designed byChris Tinniswood

Portrait ofAuthor by Sally Tennant

Prologue

The hoodedmouse treads a solitary path;

The pack-mindcatches the scent of prey.

The largestshall bow to the smallest's will,

And theyoungest will identify the prophet.

Wrapping hishooded cloak tightly about him, the dormouse pressed on through thedarkened forest. The wind was blowing hard against him, but hiswill was fierce and so, undaunted, he continued his way towards thecentre of The Great Woods.

The moonappeared briefly through a gap in the trees. It should have been awelcome relief for him, but instead it brought fear; for althoughit lit his way, it also revealed shapes in the bushes; shapes whichhe had glimpsed before. They barely made a sound, even when thewind was not howling through the branches and whispering nightmaresinto his ears. They were his constant companions these past fewhours; if they were friends, why did they not reveal themselves? Ifthey were enemies, why did they not strike?

The dormousepaused for breath against the roots of a silver birch. Its bark wassmooth to the touch, and he could smell

the earthbeneath his feet. It gave him some small comfort, which he craved.He sighed heavily, and sat down to rest, grateful for the shelteragainst the wind. He had come a long way these past few moons, buthe knew that he still had far to go. He wished that he was safelyback at home with his parents, but knew that it could never be. Ifonly he hadn't eaten that nut. But he had, and that one meal hadchanged his life forever.

A shriekpierced the night, and the dormouse sprang up onto the root, hishead darting back and forth, his whiskers twitching as he strainedhis ears to detect the source of the sound.

There it wasagain! He paused, suddenly aware that whatever danger was outthere, he was just one solitary mouse. What could he do? Hisinstinct told him to run and hide, and yet he felt a compellingurge to help. He knew he could make a difference. And so, despitethe fear he felt and the knots in his stomach, he sprang off theroot and ran towards the source of the shrieks. He was someone'sonly hope.

Just ahead ofthe dormouse was a small clearing. The trees cast long shadowsacross it, and leaves whispered in the wind like soft applause. Inthe centre of the clearing was a family of rabbits. They huddledclose together; not against the cold, but in fear of their lives.Surrounding them, and closing in,

were a pack ofhungry wolves. Their mouths slavered with the anticipation of themeal to come. Again, the rabbits shrieked, and the wolves snarledviciously in reply.

The dormousedid not hesitate; if he had, things may well have turned out verydifferently. He ran straight under the wolves and skidded to a haltin front of the rabbits. Gasping for breath, he smiled timidly atthe astonished animals, and then turned slowly to face the commonenemy.

The wolvesstopped; their hackles rose, and the tone of their snarls changed.The leader of the pack sniffed the air; he detected the smell offear, and the dirt, and the rabbits. These smells he welcomed, butthe smell of this rodent was something he couldn't quite grasp. Itwas not that of just any mouse; it was a smell he'd been trackingfor some days. He looked down at the dormouse and a look ofamusement grew on his face. He watched his tiny chest rise andfall. The wolf chuckled, and his chuckle turned to laughter; itrippled across the others in his pack as if they were sharing anunspoken joke. This was, in fact, exactly what they were doing;these hunters had a unique bond which they called the pack-mind; itallowed them to speak to each other in complete privacy by thoughtalone.

The mousethinks himself a hero! thought the leader, but I reckon he'll makea tasty starter! Again the wolves laughed.

The dormousecleared his throat, and said, 'Don't come any closer, orI'll...'

'You'll what?'replied the wolf, lowering his head towards the dormouse, 'Squeakat us?'

The pack leadercould see the fear in the dormouse's eyes. This will be too easy,he thought. Then, something shifted, and the wolf saw the terrordisappear, to be replaced by something else; something thatterrified him. This tiny, cloaked creature was no longer afraid.Indeed, he was now looking at him as if he was an equal. This hecould not tolerate. The pack-mind met in silent conference; Whatare you waiting for? Attack! Kill them! The other wolves couldn'tunderstand the delay. They were hungry and impatient. This insolentmouse thinks he's as good as us!

The leader tooka step forward, even though the fear he now felt was painful. Thewolf took another faltering step and then stopped. He could go nofurther. He looked into the eyes of this strange mouse, and saw atonce all the selfish and evil things he had ever done reflectedback at him. If the wolf had possessed an ounce of conscience, itwould have sent him mad. Then the dormouse spoke these words, andhis voice was heard in the hearts and minds of all hunterseverywhere:

'All pilgrimson this path may pass without hindrance;

From thesmallest to the largest, their way shall not be barred;

For those whosehunger ends the life of another, know this;

Until theirjourney is done, they shall not eat of flesh.'

Somethingchanged within the wolves at this moment; the craving in theirbellies ceased, and a calmness silenced their growls. The huntinginstinct left them, and their pack-mind agreed that the importanceof the journey overcame whatever selfish desires they had.Reluctantly, they backed away from their prey, their gaze neverleaving the dormouse for a second. The pack leader saw him blinktwice, and knew that whatever it was that spoke through him hadleft as suddenly as it had arrived. The dormouse looked assurprised as he was that they weren't attacking.

Silently, thewolves trotted away, but their pack-mind was feverish withthoughts: What's going on? Does this mean we've got to govegetarian?

Just before theforest consumed them, the leader turned back to face thedormouse.

'You have madean enemy of the wolves,' he growled. 'The next time we meet youwill not be so lucky.'

The dormousegulped. This was not good. He had left

homereluctantly; he didn't want these powers, but they had been thrustupon him. Now he had enemies, and he would always be looking overhis shoulder. Then, something whispered to him, and he knew thatthere was one thing left to do.

'Go well,Remus,' he said.

'What did youcall me?' replied the wolf. 'I have no name. We wolves do not neednames.'

'Nonetheless,you have earned your name this night.'

Remusconsidered this for a moment. The pack-mind was silent. Finally, hesaid, 'Then Remus it is, but you will get no thanks from me.'

'And I expectnone,' replied the dormouse.

Remus turnedback to his departing companions and trotted after them. The woodsswallowed them up and the clearing was left in silence.