He couldn’t move, no matter how hard he tried. A terrible glue held his legs, his back, his arms and his head. He tried to push himself forward but it felt as if the weight of the world was pulling him back. He was high up. Carporoo was far below. He saw it as a giant would see it. Am I a giant now? he asked himself. He turned his head slightly to the right and noticed a scattering of silken bundles. He knew, instantly, what they were just as he knew that in the one nearest to him his mother lay asleep. He wanted to go to her. But how? He turned his head slightly to the left. Maybe there was something there that might help. It must have been waiting for him to look at it for the giant spronger, breathing heavily, fifty metres away, sprang forward and charged towards him, jaws jabbering. No! he screamed, closing his eyes. He pushed, pushed hard. No! No! The shadow of the spronger fell over him. No!
He opened his eyes. His face sweat-washed. The spronger transformed in to an unpainted ceiling. The ceiling in Grenta’s bedroom.
“You’re safe. It was only a bad dream” a familiar voice said to him.
Braddle turned his head and saw Uncle Malik sitting on the dressing table stool. He jumped out of bed and stood in front of him.
“Well, I know you’re a famous adventurer now but you can still give your old Uncle a hug.”
Braddle laughed.
“But let me get off this stool first” he said. “I don’t think it's designed to take my weight.”
Uncle Malik stood up and Braddle threw his arms around his chest.
“Why are you here?” asked Braddle.
“Your little friend came to see me this morning and told me that you were here.”
Braddle looked towards the window. Though the curtains were still drawn it was clear that it was day light outside.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“Midday” his Uncle told him. “We thought it best to let you sleep. How do you feel?”
“A lot better now” said Braddle.
“Well come through and have something to eat. You need to keep your strength up.”
Uncle Malik moved towards the door.
“But Uncle there’s so much I need to tell you” said Braddle.
“Don’t worry. Grenta’s told me everything. I’ll tell you all what’s happened here after you’ve eaten.”
“Our house” said Braddle. “Our house is gone.”
With the word ‘gone’ he felt tears surging around his eyes like hot tadpoles. His Uncle had worked meticulously on their new home and now his hard work had been reduced to a pile of rubble.
“It is done” his Uncle said “and there is no point dwelling on it. I promise you, though, that once this business is over you, me and your mother will build a better one together. Now, let’s eat.”
“Oh, here he is. Sit down my sweet. You must be hungry” said Grenta’s mother to Braddle as she blew a strand of her auburn hair from her face, a strand that had escaped from the hastily constructed bun on top of her head. “You sit next to Grenta.” She then disappeared into the kitchen.
The family were already sitting round the dining table. Grenta, her father and her three brothers, Blitter, Stant and Frohn. Braddle took the seat in between Grenta and Blitter and Uncle Malik took the seat next to her father. Grenta smiled at him. Her father nodded a greeting. Her three brothers nodded as well. Grenta’s brothers were older than Braddle. They were tall like their father and thin like their mother. All three had their mother’s reddish-brown hair but Blitter and Stant, the oldest two, followed their father’s style and had it cropped short with a curve of hair left to grow around the ears (her father said it was a family tradition but Grenta thought it looked silly all the same) whilst Frohn let his grow in any way it wanted.
“Blitter can you come and help me please” called her mother from the kitchen. Blitter pushed his chair back with a sigh and went to her. As he walked past Stant his elbow connected with his head.
“Get off” shouted Stant.
“Enough of that” her father said, quietly.
The brothers immediately quietened down but Frohn, sitting on the other side of Stant, had to look down to stifle the laugh that wanted to rip through the dining room.
“I would like to say” said Grenta’s father, coughing, “that I am sorry to hear about the trouble you’re having at the minute. As I have already said to your Uncle, you are amongst friends here and we will do everything we can to assist you and deliver you from this terrible predicament.”
He stopped talking and looked around the room. Braddle noticed that his cheeks had reddened slightly. There was an awkward silence until Grenta spoke up.
“Well, I will do whatever I can.”
“Yes” said Stant “with the Morrie family on your side you can’t lose.”
“Yes. Invincible we are” said Frohn, laughing.
Braddle looked at his Uncle who nodded at him. He realised he had to say something.
“Well…thanks…it’s very much…”
“Foods up!” announced Grenta’s mother, as she and Blitter arrived from the kitchen carrying two large dishes each. The dishes were placed in the centre of the table.
“As our honoured guest you shall go first” said Grenta’s mother to Braddle.
Everyone sat in silence as Braddle helped himself to a bowl of stew, bread and a side portion of vegetables. When he had finished she invited Uncle Malik to go next. He filled his bowl to within a millimetre of its rim and took a chunk of bread. When he had done the Morrie family adopted the principle of ‘every man for himself’ and all made a grab for their portion.
After the meal Uncle Malik told Braddle that they had to talk. They were joined by Grenta and her parents. Her brothers had been sent out to salvage what building materials they could from Braddle’s house.
“They will be rebuilding soon, I am sure” Mr Morrie said. “Put the good stuff to one side. I’ll come out and help later, if my back eases off.”
“Did Drostfur escape?” asked Braddle.
“Yes, he most certainly did” said his Uncle. “He managed to get to the safe house as planned.”
“I was worried he hadn’t because Alfie told me yesterday that the giant Nicholls was given lots of people by General Stoo.”
“That would be the remainder of the Ruling Council” said Uncle Malik. “General Stoo rounded them up along with their families.”
“How can he do it?” asked Braddle. “Why are people letting him get away with it?”
The adults looked at each other.
“Well” said Grenta’s mother “everyone’s afraid. General Stoo has convinced most people that Carporoo is under attack. When people are afraid you can get them to do a lot of things they wouldn‘t normally do.”
“He asked the Counsellors and their families to go to the barracks for their own protection” said Grenta’s father. “Like fools they went.”
There was a shout in the street outside. It was a soldier’s voice. It was demanding to know what someone was up to. Grenta ran to the window and looked out. The soldier was speaking to her brothers.
“He’s shouting at Blit” she told her parents.
They both looked at each other open-mouthed.
“It’s ok” she said “the soldier is going away again. Whatever Blit said to him looks like it’s done the trick.”
“Get them back in Joster” said Grenta’s mother. “It’s too risky.”
“There’s no point now Anni” said her father. “The soldier has gone. Besides, if they stop now it might arouse more suspicion.”
Grenta came back from the window and sat down by her mother. She took hold of her hand.
“Why are the soldiers camping all over the city?” asked Braddle.
“It’s a good move on General Stoo’s part” replied his Uncle. “The reason given is that they are there to protect the city and the people from the fugitive Drostfur and his secret society but in reality they are ready to deal with any trouble if any trouble sta
rts.”
“It looks hopeless” said Braddle. “How can we fight against an army?”
“I wouldn’t say it’s hopeless” said his Uncle, standing up. “As long as we can still do something then we have to believe it isn't. I am not ready to concede victory to that deluded, shiny twig yet.”
His Uncle put on his jacket.
“Right, let’s go” he said to Braddle.
“Where are we going?”
“To see Drostfur. He needs to hear what you have to say.”
Braddle went to Grenta’s bedroom to get his coat.
“Can I come?” asked Grenta.
“Absolutely not” said her father. “It’s too dangerous. You stay here with your mother.”
“Please. I can help” she pleaded.
“No, your father is right” said her mother. “It’s not safe. You stay here with us.”
Braddle returned with his coat.
“We’ll take the back streets” said his Uncle. “It won’t take long to get there.”
Braddle thanked Grenta’s parents for their hospitality and turned to go.