Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8 'So, let me get this straight, puffed Silver as the team sprinted along the sewer that would get them to Ratborough. 'You reckon the nice, polite diplomat we've been guarding is actually a CRIMINAL GENIUS who, thanks to Catface (sorry, Catface), has been plotting all along to swipe Old Tom's Collar, and raise an army of every rat in the country to do his bidding? 'Well, as crazy as it sounds, yes!' answered Toto. 'Honestly, sis, HE'S AS BIG AS A SIBERIAN CAT,

not an ounce of fat on him, very tough-looking, chipped in Socks. 'Not helpful, Socks! So, boss, what are your orders when we get there?' she called to Larry. 'The key will be to isolate him. It's vital we get him away from the townsfolk as quickly as possible, so he can't turn them. Then you and I will take him on. I thought it was just legend, but he really did seem to grow in size and stature when he put on both pieces of the collar. He could be lethal in combat; we'll have to approach with caution. Up ahead, Catface was leading the way to Ratborough- the rat capital of north London, and the seat of his father's power. To avoid the crowds, Catface took the back route but a couple of times they heard a squadron of rat soldiers marching towards them, and hid in the shadows, uncertain as to whose side they were on. Finally, they made it to the town square, and

lurked in a side street that the cats knew well. Peeking out from behind a wall made of old soup tins, they took in the scene. 'Oh, this is not good. As in, it's bad, said Silver with a wince, as he painted the picture for Toto. All the townsfolk were in the square and their eyes were on the grand old palace made from glass bottles that dominated the skyline. UP ON THE BALCONY WAS CATFACE'S DAD, THE KING RAT. But he wasn't addressing his people. He was surrounded by his own guards, who were armed with toothpicks. It was clear he was under arrest. Monsieur Raton Laveur (if that was his real name) was proudly addressing the crowd. His voice now had no shred of a French accent. He was finally showing his true colours, and the rats were hanging on every word. 'My friends, for years you have been lied to by cowards and traitors. He gestured to the king.

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'I say, steady on,' said the king. 'SILENCE!' the giant rat continued, 'All the animals in the kingdom look down upon us rats, they laugh and sneer at us, think us dirty and diseased. Well, no more!' THE CROWD ERUPTED IN APPRECIATION. 'When my great-great-great-great-great-great...' (this was repeated for another thirty seconds and even the most committed listeners were beginning to look a little distracted) '...GREAT-GRANDFATHER, KING RODERICK THE ABSOLUTELY FILTHY DIRTY, was betrayed by his own kind and defeated by Old Tom, my family went into hiding in Europe, but we've never forgotten our destiny. We have been biding our time, waiting for centuries to come again and claim what is rightfully ours.' A shout of support went up from the square. Behind the old soup tins, the cats heard every word.