Bonnie and SophieAbridged.

Chapter 6 Sparta

Daybreak finds the trio well across the lake, while echoes ripple round their dipping paddles. Not far ahead a mist of mantling blue floats down wavelike. 'That wide red road will lead you into Sparta, if that's where you want to go' skipper Demo laughs. 'Be careful,' he adds, 'many a good friend I've waved off and never seen again.' 'Everyone's our friend,' Bonnie laughs back, 'bye, bye, bye bye.' It feels good to be out on the road again. They hear distant sheep bells, mysterious horns, or are these noises from the road itself? Demo did suggest that the route was musical.

Just as the hardness of the red road begins to penetrate their limbs, cracking pads, forcing the pace into a slow walk, they have a sudden fright, which itself turns into a surprise. Bonnie stops dead, Sophie bumps into her...bump. There in front stand two proud rams, curled horns tossing about, 'Would you like a lift,' they bleat. 'We'd be very grateful,' Bonnie wuffs, 'but how can you carry two dogs and a rucksack?' 'Why on our backs of course,' both rams blare. Soon the rams gallop away with two thrilled Old English adventurers hanging to their woolly backs, a madcap wind ruffling those creamy coats. It doesn't take too long for the rams to catch up with vague figures in the distance. As they overtake two grey slouching creatures, it all happens so quickly. Bonnie turns to see green eyes glaring, wolves' eyes, that's it, the chase is on but the wolves are catching up. On rounding a bend, a swishing, swirling river cuts across their path. 'Oh,' Sophie groans, eyes closed. Then they're in the liquid, swimming for their lives, 'What a helle va phix,' Soph screams' 'just swim!' Bonnie urges, 'just swim'. Two drowned rams float away.

Stunned, bruised, blinded they drag their limp bodies up that grassy bank. Immediately, ashen wolves in silver and gold armour running off jerkins of scarlet, with swords, spears and shields, surround the desperate dogs. A soldier snarls, 'follow us, don't talk.' Now prisoners, Bonnie and Sophie move away under escort. Eventually a pair of grand iron gates loom ahead, reports are exchanged, doors unlock, gates open and the group slides through. To right and left young wolves exercise, females and males working together without clothes on; and in a far corner, a mound of wolves' clothing: shoes, socks, pants, coats, all in a great heap. So marching continuously through the afternoon they eventually reach Sparta village a little before dusk.

The spectacle greeting them includes a large table, undoubtedly the largest they have ever seen, stretching itself down the main street, with over one thousand chairs sitting around. Seated wolves, stuff themselves at the table. A small wolf called Licy, acting as a waiter, more brown than grey and wearing a red jumper, tells them to sit down. The noise, a cacophony of crunching jaws, clunking chairs, jabbering tongues, rattling knives, moving heads and swishing tails unbelievably increases at the strange sight of two old English. As Licy pushes a plate of chopped cereal between Bonnie and Sophie, he lowers his head in a friendly way and whispers, 'we're all slaves you know, every wolf in a red jumper is a slave. Death awaits us if we disobey the master wolves.' Sophie's legs begin to tremble. The meal consists of five courses, but each course is the same. Imagine, one thousand wolves eating the same chopped cereal five times over. The dogs very nearly burst into laughter.

They find out from Licy that the grey brutes never work, their job is to fight and prepare for war. Eating over, drinking begins, but no one pays for their meal. 'Most things are free anyway,' Licy whispers; 'good idea,' Bonnie growls. Sophie tuts, 'if everything is the same, doesn't sound so good to me,' she squirms on her chair. 'I like a little choice in life.' Explaining about illness and children, Licy adds, 'only healthy children are kept alive and when boys reach the age of seven they are sent off to boarding school, where they stay until thirty years old.' Wearily Soph's eyes fill with water, 'we'll never get out of here,' she cries. 'Whatever you do, don't cry, it's against the law,' Licy pokes her roughly. Immediately they look around, then suddenly from the corner of her eye Bonnie sees a group of lean, sinewy greyhounds, partly hidden behind a battered stone well. Greyhounds and wolves bark together, both reek of evil. 'Fetch a jug of water and tell me what they're saying', Bonnie urges Licy. Eventually he returns trembling, 'those vile greyhound dogs want our guards to hand you over, they say you have committed a bad crime and they are to take you back somewhere.' 'That's not the truth Licy, oh, what can we do to escape?', Sophie pleads.

Licy glances round, 'quick, no one is watching, jump down under here, right now crawl under the whole length of the table and when you get to the other end, run as fast as your legs will carry you.' Both dogs edge carefully under the table, avoiding the seated wolves. It takes several minutes to crawl 240 feet under the trestle, while as usual, Sophie keeps bumping into Bonnie's bottom. At last they reach the end. 'C'mon then let's go,' Bonnie yells. Soph follows so fast her back catches the table top, it jumps into the air and three wolves either side topple backwards off their stools. But too soon, the chase is organised. Clouds of red dust creep closer and closer behind our racing pals. A perimeter wall looms ahead, gateman nowhere to be seen. Two shapes almost touch Sophie, she closes her eyes........but it's the rams, 'quick vault onto our backs,' they bleat. 'Thank God, you're here,' Bonnie pants. Soon they gain a short distance from those satanic greyhounds and wolves but what of the wall ahead? Suddenly the belting drumbeat quickens, and the red musical road screams into a violin crescendo, at which point, on a sublime high note the rams take off soaring high, high into the sky, dogs gripping tightly those smooth curved horns, and fly over and glide down to a peaceful countryside beyond.