She watched them slip out of the perimeter gate, armed with their own choice of weapons and equipped with rations. The wildcat Queen curled her lip in satisfaction. There was no need to try interrogating her two prisoners further at the moment; let them stay in their cells until they were starving. It was always easier to interview creatures who had not eaten for a few days. Two small hedgehogs trying to pit their wits against the Queen of the Thousand Eyes – what chance did they have?
Scratch was a fairly observant weasel. He jabbed skyward with his dagger.
‘See that robin, Cludd?’
Cludd noted that Scratch had omitted to call him Captain. He looked up, but Chibb had flown from view.
‘What robin? Where?’
Scratch sheathed his dagger. ‘You’ve missed him now. I could have sworn it was the same bird I’ve noticed hanging about outside the barracks a few times. Always ends up somewhere near the ground, hidden.’
Cludd was reluctant to believe that Scratch was more alert than he.
‘Hmm, it might be summat or nothing. Woodlanders don’t usually have much to do with birds. Still, we’d best be on the safe side. Hoi, Thicktail, make your way back to Kotir and tell Milady about that robin. Don’t breathe a word to anyone else, though. I don’t want Ashleg or that fox stealing any of my credit.’
Thicktail saluted, and jogged off in the direction of Kotir.
Scratch looked at the thickly wooded area they were in. ‘Perhaps we’d better lie low here awhile. That way we can have a rest while we keep our eyes and ears open, eh, Cludd?’
Cludd knew the idea was a sensible one, but Scratch was beginning to annoy him with his insubordinate manner.
‘Aye, I was just thinking the same thing myself. Right, lads, pick good hiding places and keep your eyes and ears open. But just let me catch anyone snoozing and I’ll have his tail for a bootlace. That goes double for you, Scratch.’
As the special patrol dispersed among the trees, Scratch stuck out his tongue at Cludd’s back, muttering beneath his breath, ‘Cludd the clod thick as mud.’
Thicktail did not like being out in Mossflower alone, even in broad sunny daylight. The stoat scurried through the trees looking furtively from left to right; as he went he repeated Cludd’s instructions aloud to himself, ‘Tell the Queen that there’s been a robin redbreast hanging about Kotir grounds. It flies down low and vanishes near the floor. Cludd thinks that it might be something to do with those woodlanders. Now, I’m to say nothing to Fortunata or Ashleg. Huh, if they ask me I’ll just tell them that I had to come back because I sprained my paw. I’d better practise limping on it just in case.’
Argulor was making a wide sweep from Kotir over the forest; this way he could fool anyone at Kotir into thinking he had flown away. He was about to circle back when he heard the voice below him and saw a stoat limping about in the undergrowth.
‘I must tell the Queen that a robin has seen Cludd hanging about. No, that’s not right. I must tell the robin that Cludd has been hanging the Queen. . . .’
Argulor did not require perfect sight to tell him where his next noisy meal was. He dropped like a stone to the forest below.
A stone with talons and a curving beak.
Bella’s study was still awash in a litter of old documents. They slid from the desk, which still had its secret drawer hanging askew. Several food trays stood balanced here and there amid the dust. The scroll and four leaves that had led the friends to the route lay on the arm of the big armchair, where Dinny sat snuggled in its deep cushioned seat. Bella leaned against the desk. She did not mind the young mole borrowing her favourite chair, though he did seem to be growing rather fond of it. Martin paced up and down. At each turn he had to step over Gonff. The little mousethief lay stretched out on a worn carpet that covered the study floor. Martin was having trouble imagining himself as a bird. The mere mention of heights made the ground-loving Young Dinny feel sick and dizzy. Gonff, however, was displaying a fine aptitude for a mousebird.
‘Ha, “I look below to see/A place of wood with plumage green/That breezes move like sea.” It’s as plain as the whiskers on your face, mateys. He means good old Mossflower Woods, right where we are.’
Bella closed her eyes, picturing herself in flight. ‘Hmm, I suppose that our woods would look like water moving in the wind from above. Carry on, Genff. What’s next?’
‘Er, “Behind me as the dawn breaks clear,/Woodpigeons come awake”.’
‘Burr, doant you uns see, dawnbreak, sunroise. Gooseburd be a-tellen us’ns to traverse westerly,’ Young Dinny called out from the armchair.
Martin shook Dinny’s paw. ‘Good mole! Of course, if the sun rises in the east and dawnbreak is behind him, then he must be travelling due west. Well solved, Young Dinny.’
The mole gave a huge grin, settling deeper into the armchair. ‘Ho urr, this yurr young mole ain’t on’y a digger. Oi seed they woodenpidger waken at dawnen, gurr, turrible noisebags they be, all that cooen. Goo on, wot’s next bit o’ poartee?’
Gonff continued, ‘The poetry says, “See brown dust roll twixt green and gold,/Unwinding like a snake.”’
Bella nodded knowingly. ‘Aha, friend Olav gave me an easy one there. I know the very place. Between the woods and the flatlands south of Kotir, the road has a twist in it. I’ve walked down it many times and thought it was just like a snake trying to slough its skin.’
Gonff shuddered at the mention of snake. ‘So, mateys, we walk through the woods, heading west, and cross the path below Kotir. Then there’s only one way we can go. Straight out across the flatlands and the open plains, like the poem says, o’er the golden acres to where the snake of blue lies – brr, snakes.’
‘That’s no snake Gonff,’ Martin interrupted. ‘It’s the same as Bella’s winding road, but this one is blue – it’s a river. What puzzles me is the teeth of land eating the wool of sheep line.’
Bella stretched and yawned. ‘Whoo! I think we must be going stale sitting around this dusty old room. Sheep and land, wool and teeth . . . Ah well, maybe we can’t see the wood for the trees, but whatever it is, you’ll know it when you see it. What do you want to do? Sit here half a season solving riddles, or follow the clues you already have and work the rest out as you go along? The supplies are packed and ready, you have your weapons, wits and youth to help you along – what more do you want?’
Gonff supplied the answer. ‘A good matey to walk by your side through thick and thin.’
‘You’ns baint leaven this yurr mole behoind.’
Martin and Gonff laughed heartily, Bella bowed apologetically to the mole.
‘Forgive me, Dinny. I did not know you wished to go questing.’
The young mole heaved himself up onto his hind paws. ‘Burr, you try ’n’ stop oi, Miz Bell. Tho’ oi do ’ate to take leave of yon armchurr.’
20
THE CORIM PLAN was beautifully simple.
A party of woodlanders would set out with haversacks of provisions from a point near to Kotir, and Chibb was to be given the rations one sack at a time. That way he could make short journeys to the cell window, passing the food in to Gingivere. Abbess Germaine had reasoned it all out: the woodlanders were helping by carrying the food, Chibb would not be overtaxed by making many long flights and Gingivere would secretly share the rations with Ferdy and Coggs. Later, there would be time to mount a rescue operation, but it needed a great deal of careful planning between the Corim leaders.
In the hour before dawn the two parties sat eating an early breakfast provided by Ben and Goody Stickle: hot scones, fresh from the oven, with butter and damson preserve and mugs of cold creamy milk.
‘Mmmff, lookit those otters and squirrels packin’ it away. You’d think they was a-goin’ away nigh on three seasons,’ Ben Stickle mumbled through a mouthful of hot scone.
Goody topped up his beaker with milk. ‘Listen to the leaf a-callin’ the grass green. You’re worse’n any of ’em, Ben Stickle. Just you mind those two liddle ’ogs of mi
ne don’t go ’ungry. See they gets their rations.’
Skipper tucked a spare scone in his sling pouch. ‘Don’t fret your head, marm. They’ll both take on a cargo of vittles afore evenin’ bell.’
Lady Amber raised her tail and waved it. ‘Righto. Form up, woodlanders carrying provisions in the centre, squirrels and otters forming guard on flanks and scouting ahead. Martin, your party can walk with us part of the way.’
The sun was not yet up as they left Brockhall through the still slumbering forest. Both parties stole silently into the trees, waving goodbye to Bella, Abbess Germaine and Goody Stickle, who stood on the sward outside Brockhall.
The old Abbess tucked her paws into the long sleeves of her habit. ‘Let us hope that both parties are successful.’
Goody Stickle blinked back a tear. ‘Let’s ’ope my Ferdy and Coggs gets their proper nourishment.’
Bella watched the last of the party vanishing into the thicknesses of Mossflower.
‘Aye, and let us hope that Martin can bring back my father, Boar the Fighter, to save us all and free us from the vermin of Kotir.’
It was close to midday. Scratch and Cludd lay beneath an old hornbeam. All around the troops lay hidden, most of them sleeping soundly. Cludd had spotted one or two soldiers and was about to recall them to duty with his spearbutt, when Scratch suddenly put a claw to his lips for silence and pointed to a break in the trees.
The woodlanders marched by the sleeping soldiers, unaware that they were being watched. Skipper strode boldly in the lead, twirling his sling. Some of the otters had relieved the carriers of their loads. They strolled along, conversing with the Loamhedge mice. In the middle terraces of sycamore, plane and elm, Lady Amber swung from bough to limb with her archers.
Scratch and Cludd watched the passage of the curious band in silence. Cludd hoped that none of the soldiers would waken noisily; he could practically taste reward and promotion. Rubbing his paws together in excitement, he nudged his companion.
‘By the claw, that lot can only be headed to one place – Kotir. Wait’ll the Queen hears about this, eh, Scratch.’
As he rose, Scratch shoved him roughly back down. ‘Ssshh! Look over there.’
Coming through the trees in a slightly different direction, Martin, Dinny and Gonff marched along a path that would take them due west, skirting Kotir on its south side. Columbine had walked with Gonff, but now their paths were to part and she hurried away to join the others. As Cludd watched he made a mental note to pay Scratch back for banging his nose down into the dirt. Unaware of his Captain’s displeasure, Scratch listened to the strains of Gonff singing his farewell to Columbine as she waved to him with a kerchief.
‘Goodbye, Columbine.
Now your path and mine
Must part in the woods of Mossflow’r.
Keep a lookout each day,
For I’ll be back this way,
In the noontide or cool evening hour.’
Scratch cackled. Fluttering his eyelids, he picked a daisy and sniffed it gustily. ‘Aaahh, isn’t that romantic, now? The young mouse singing farewell to his sweet . . . Ouch!’
Cludd rapped him smartly between the ears with the flat of his spearblade. ‘Shut your trap, nitwit. D’you want the whole forest to hear you? Those three aren’t going to Kotir. Oh no, they’re bound for somewhere else. Now listen, greasy ears, here’s what I want you to do. Take two others and follow them. Don’t let them out of your sight. Find out where they’re going and why, then report back to me.’
Scratch rubbed the top of his head indignantly. ‘Oh yes. Go off and follow those three. Who knows where they’re going, or how long it’ll take? Huh, you must think all the acorns have dropped off my tree, Cludd. I know where you’ll be, mate – grabbing all the glory for yourself. “Yes, Milady, no Milady, three bags full Milady. I saw them first Milady, so I’ve sent daft old Scratch off chasing the odd three.” Hoho, I’m on to your little game, weasel.’
Cludd seized Scratch roughly by the ear and began twisting savagely. ‘So! Open rebellion, eh, Scratch. Now listen to me, you scruffy half-baked excuse for a soldier, if I have to report your disobedience to Her Majesty, she’ll have you staked out on the parade ground for eagle meat, d’you hear me? Now get going, wormbrain. Here, you two, Blacktooth ferret and Splitnose stoat, grab weapons and supplies. Go with Scratch. Jump to it – that’s a direct order from me.’
The sulky-looking trio skulked off, muttering.
‘Old bossy boots Cludd, eh.’
‘Huh, how he ever got to be Captain I’ll never know.’
‘Take that spear away and he’d fall over flat on his nose.’
‘Aye, Tsarmina’s pet, the baby-hedgehog catcher.’
Cludd waited until they were gone, then shouldered his spear. ‘Right, me laddos. Up on your paws. We’ll take the shortcut north back to the garrison, then Milady can arrange a warm welcome for her woodland visitors.’
Cludd put the remainder of his force into a swift jog trot. Soon the spot where the three paths had crossed was deserted as the last soldier vanished into the bright leafy shades of Mossflower.
Towards evening, Tsarmina grew restless. She had the two prisoners brought up from the cells. The wildcat Queen was reluctant to admit to herself that she could not get the better of two little hedgehogs. Hunger, she decided, was a great tongue-loosener.
Ferdy and Coggs stood before her, their eyes riveted to the big tray of crystallized fruit and nuts.
Tsarmina popped one neatly into her mouth, delicately licking the sticky sugar coating from her claws one by one.
‘Mmm, delicious! I’ll wager that either one of you two young ’uns could eat this entire tray in one go. Come on, now. Don’t be shy. First to talk a bit of sense gets them all.’
Coggs licked his lips. Ferdy grasped his paw and spoke out for them both.
‘Huh, I’d swap all that lot for just one slice of our mum’s apple pie.’
Tsarmina smiled winningly. ‘Of course you would. I suppose your mum makes the best apple pie in all Mossflower?’
Coggs wiped his damp whiskers with the back of a paw. ‘Oh, I’ll say she does. Hot out the oven, with fresh cream poured on until it floats.’
Tsarmina nodded agreeably. ‘Lovely. That’s just the way I like it. By the way, what do they call your mother?’
Ferdy was caught completely off guard. ‘Goody.’
‘Goody what?’ The wildcat Queen kept up a friendly purr.
Coggs kicked Ferdy and interrupted, ‘Goody, goody. We love our mum’s apple pie, and that’s all we’ve got to say!’
Tsarmina scowled irritably and pushed the tray of sweetmeats away. ‘Guards! Take these two little fools and lock them up again. They’ll learn what hunger is a week from now.’
As they were marched off, Coggs shouted bravely, ‘Aye, and you’ll see how woodland warriors can still behave two weeks from now, cat.’
Far below at the prison window bars, Chibb earnestly discussed the new plan with Gingivere.
Gonff was first to complain as evening fell over the woodlands. ‘Phew, it’s a while since I trudged this far, mateys. What d’you say, this looks a likely place for the night, then we can get a fresh start in the morning?’
Young Dinny inspected the site. It was a dead chestnut stump, with a small hole between the two main roots.
‘Hurr, oi knows this yurr gaff. Slep’ yurr many a noight. ‘Ee’ll do.’
Martin crouched as he made his way into the confined space. ‘Just about enough room for the three of us. We’d better call it a day. Break out some supper, Gonff.’
While Gonff set the food out, Dinny scooped loam around the entrance, leaving a small space for observation. The mole had no sooner finished his task when he held up a paw.
‘Usher now. Cum by ’ere an’ lookit.’
Silently they gathered round and watched as Scratch blundered noisily through the undergrowth, followed by Splitnose and Blacktooth.
‘Haha, look out. The bog
ey Cludd’s behind you.’
‘Fat chance! He’ll probably be stuffing his face back at Kotir.’
‘Aye, and getting ready to sleep in a dry bed, too.’
‘No sign of the mice and the mole yet, Scratch?’
‘It’s getting so dark I can’t see my own paws, let alone mice and a mole. Come on, let’s get clear of this forest while we can. If we reach the road, there’s a dry ditch where we can camp the night.’
‘Hey, Blacktooth, stop scoffing those rations. There’ll be none left for us.’
‘Aah, there’s plenty. Anyhow, I’m starving.’
‘You’re starving! I haven’t had a bite since breakfast myself. Here, give me that food.’
‘No, I won’t. Leggo, you big grabber!’
‘Here, I’ll take charge of that, you two. Garr, you greedy nits, it’s spilled all over the place now. You’ve dropped it.’
‘It wasn’t me, it was him. He shoved me, clumsy paws.’
‘Clumsy paws yourself, greedy guts. Take that!’
‘Owoo! I’ll report you to Cludd when we get back.’
‘Oh, go and report your mother.’
In the hole beneath the chestnut tree the three friends held their sides in silent mirth, tears running down their whiskers as they watched the antics of the searchers, who fumbled and bungled their way off into the darkness, still arguing and fighting.
Mossflower (Redwall) Page 13