'Not a chance,' came the reply. 'The only way you're leaving this house is in a body bag.'
Mulch could feel himself being dragged backwards. This human was strong. There weren't many
creatures that could dislodge a dwarf with a grip on something. He scrabbled in the dirt, cramming
handfuls of wine-impregnated clay into his cavernous mouth. There was only one chance.
'Come on, you little goblin. Out of there.'
Goblin! Mulch would have been indignant had he not been busy chewing clay to eject at his
enemy.
The human stopped talking. Possibly he had noticed the bum-flap, and probably the bum. No
doubt what had happened in the safe room was coming back to him.
'Oh...'
What would have followed the 'Oh' is anyone's guess, but I'd be willing to bet that it wouldn't
have been 'dearie me'. As it happened, Butler never had time to finish his expletive, because he
wisely chose that moment to relinquish his grip. A wise choice indeed, because it coincided with
the instant Mulch decided to launch his earthen offensive.
A lump of compacted clay sped like a cannonball directly at the spot where Butler's head had
been barely a second previously. Had it still occupied that space, the impact would have separated it
from Butler's shoulders. An ignoble end for a bodyguard of his calibre. As it was, the soggy missile
barely grazed his ear. Nevertheless, the force was sufficient to spin Butler like an ice skater, landing
him on his rump for the second time in as many minutes.
By the time his vision had settled, the dwarf had disappeared into a maelstrom of churning muck.
Butler decided not to attempt pursuit. Dying below ground was not very high on his things to do
list. But there will be another day, fairy, he thought grimly. And there was to be. But that's another
story.
Mulch's momentum propelled him underground. He'd gone several metres along the loamy vein
before he realized no one was following. Once the taste of earth had settled his heart rate, he
decided it was time to implement his escape plan.
The dwarf altered his course, chewing his way towards the rabbit warren he'd noted earlier. With
any luck, the centaur hadn't run a seismology test on the manor grounds, or his ruse might be
discovered. He'd just have to bank on the fact that they had more important things to worry about
than a missing prisoner. There shouldn't be any problem deceiving Julius, but the centaur, he was a
smart one.
Mulch's internal compass steered him true, and within minutes he could feel the gentle vibrations
of the rabbits loping along their tunnels. From here on timing was crucial if the illusion was to be
effective. He slowed his digging rate, poking the soft clay gently until his fingers breached the
tunnel wall. Mulch was careful to look the other way, because whatever he saw would be showing
up on the viewscreen back in LEP HQ.
Laying his fingers on the tunnel floor like an upturned spider, Mulch waited. It didn't take long.
In seconds he felt the rhythmic thump of an approaching rabbit. The instant the animal's hind legs
brushed the trap, he tightened his powerful digits around its neck. The poor animal never had a
chance.
Sorry, friend, thought the dwarf. If there was any other way…Pulling the rabbit's body through
the hole, Mulch rehinged his jaw and began screaming. 'Cave in! Cave in! Help! Help!'
Now for the tricky bit. With one hand he agitated the surrounding earth, bringing showers of it
crumbling around his own head. With the other hand he popped the iris-cam out of his left eye and
slid it into the rabbit's. Given the almost total darkness and the landfall confusion, it should be
almost impossible to spot the switch.
'Julius! Please. Help me.'
'Mulch! What's happening? What's your status?'
What's my status? thought the dwarf incredulously. Even in times of supposed crisis, the
commander couldn't abandon his precious protocol.
'I…Argh ...' The dwarf dragged his final scream out, petering off to a gargling rattle.
A bit melodramatic perhaps, but Mulch never could resist theatrics. With a last regretful glance at
the dying animal, he unhinged his jaw and finned off to the south-east. Freedom beckoned.
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