Mossflower (Redwall)

by Brian Jacques

  ‘All clear, Milady. It was only a stupid trick to make us think they were still here.’

  ‘What about the squirrels, Cludd?’ Fortunata sounded cautious.

  The weasel Captain peered upward into the elm branches then hurled his spear straight up. Several soldiers dodged out of the way as it landed back, point up in the mound. A small amount of twigs and leaves fell with it.

  ‘Not a hide nor hair of the lily-livered bunch!’ Cludd puffed his chest out as he retrieved his spear.

  Relieved and exultant, the soldiers of Kotir rose up, cheering and stamping about in a victory dance.

  ‘We won, we won!’ ‘Won what?’ Tsarmina’s voice rose angrily above the celebration. ‘Fools, can’t you see it’s an empty triumph: no plunder, no slaves, no submission. They’ve vanished completely, and what have we gained? A few yards of woodland that belongs to me anyway.’

  The sudden volley of arrows slashed down, taking them unawares. Soldiers threw up shields, diving headlong for the undergrowth. Even the wildcat Queen had to beat an undignified retreat behind the elm tree she had conquered.

  Once again the chattering derisory laughter of squirrels, as they swung off into the fastnesses of Mossflower, was all that remained of the woodlanders.

  Gingivere had enlarged the two holes so that Ferdy and Coggs were able to squeeze through into his cell.

  Gleefully they upturned the contents of the first pack.

  ‘Good old mum’s apple pie!’

  ‘Ooh, elderberry cordial!’

  ‘Look, cheese and hazelnuts!’

  ‘Candied chestnuts, too. Hahaha, bet old Chibb didn’t know about ’em.’

  ‘Come on, Mr Gingivere. Here’s some seedcake and milk. Let’s have a secret supper together, then you can tell us the news from Chibb.’

  Amidst the laughter, Gingivere brushed away a tear from his eye. He was delighted with the company of his two little hedgehog friends, after the long lonely confinement following his father’s death.

  It was noontide when Martin and Dinny sat down to rest. Gonff stood surveying the vastness that surrounded them; undulating plain, flatland and moorland stretched away into the distance, the far horizon danced and shimmered in the unseasonal heat. Gonff thought he could detect a smudge on the horizon, but he could not be sure until they had travelled further. The mousethief turned, looking back to where they had come from.

  ‘Well, mateys, it’s certainly a big wide world outside the woodlands and good old Mossflower. I can still glimpse it back there.’

  Dinny lay back chewing a blade of grass. ‘Hurr hurr, an’ can ’ee still see yon liddle mousemaid a-waven to ’ee?’

  Gonff shielded his eyes with his paw and played along. ‘Why yes, and there’s someone else too. It looks like your grandad waving his stick. He wants that deeper ’n’ ever pie that you stole from him.’

  ‘That wasn’t Dinny,’ Martin yawned. ‘You probably stole it. See anything else?’

  Gonff’s whiskers twitched. ‘Aye, those three vermin that are tracking us. Looks like they’ve picked up our trail, matey.’

  Martin and Dinny leapt up, staring in the direction Gonff was pointing.

  ‘There, see – a weasel, a ferret and a stoat. Now they’ve started to run. Why are they in a hurry all of a sudden?’

  ‘Prob’ly cos they’m soighted us’ns, now we studd up,’ Dinny suggested.

  ‘Aye, matey, you’re right. Well, what do we do now, warrior? Stand and fight? You just say the word.’

  Martin gnawed his lip, stopping his paw from straying to the otter sling bound about his middle.

  ‘No, that’s not what we’re questing for. We’d be losing valuable time. It’s our duty to find Salamandastron and Boar the Fighter, so that he can return with us to save Mossflower. The first thing a warrior must learn is orders and duty.’

  Gonff strapped his pack back on. Dinny had not removed his. He was away and running, small velvety paws pounding the grassland.

  ‘Coom on, ’ee two,’ he called. ‘Us’ns can lose they vurmin afore eventoid.’

  The three friends ran in silence, measuring their stride and conserving energy. All that could be heard above the drumming of their paws was a descending lark and the chirrup of grasshoppers in the dry grassland warmth. The high sun above watched the scene like a great golden eye. The hunted jogged steadily on, with the hunters rushing behind to close the gap.

  There was no infirmary for the wounded at Kotir. Soldiers lay about in the barracks, licking their hurts and tending to themselves as best as they could. Cludd was quite pleased with himself. They had driven off the woodlanders and the army had not retreated, so what was all the fuss about?

  He put the question to Ashleg.

  ‘Try telling her that, weasel. Here she comes.’ The pine marten’s cloak swirled about as he pointed to the stairs.

  Tsarmina bounded into the barracks, crooking a claw at them. ‘You two, up to my room. Right away!’

  There was little to be gained by arguing, so with sinking hearts they trooped up the stairway.

  Fortunata was already there, her ear painfully swollen from the arrow wound. Ashleg could not resist a sly snigger.

  ‘Heehee, looks like you need a healer, fox.’

  Tsarmina swept in, just in time to hear the jibe.

  ‘One more remark like that, woodenpin, and you’ll need a new head. Now, what happened to my ambush in the woods?’ They stood dumbly, waiting for the storm to break. It was not long in coming.

  The wildcat Queen cleared the table in one reckless sweep. Bell, dishes, ornaments, linen and food crashed to the floor.

  ‘Nothing! That’s what we gained from it all.’

  She raged around the chamber, kicking over furniture, tearing at wall hangings and bending fire irons out of shape as her voice rose to a maddened howl.

  ‘I saw them. Me! I set up the ambush, warned you, marshalled the army, led the charge and thought that you buffoons had the brains and courage to assist me. What did I receive? Not one original idea or scrap of encouragement.’

  Her whole body quivered with dangerous temper, then suddenly she slumped into a chair as if temporarily exhausted by her outburst. The quaking trio stood staring at the floor for inspiration as she scowled at them.

  ‘Aahh, what business is it of yours, anyway? You’re not supposed to think, only to carry out orders. It’s my job to do all the brain work around here. I suppose nothing will bother you three until the food supplies run out. Oh, they won’t last forever, you know. I’ve seen for myself; the stores are getting lower, since we were unable to levy tribute from the few that lived around our walls. That’s the trouble with being a conqueror and having an army to feed: soldiers are no good at providing anything unless they can snatch it away from the helpless.’ She stretched and kicked moodily at a fallen goblet. ‘Well, any ideas?’

  ‘There’s always the two prisoners I caught, Milady.’ Cludd sounded half-apologetic.

  Tsarmina sat bolt upright. ‘Of course, well done, weasel. Maybe you aren’t as stupid as I thought. Prisoners, hmmm, yes. What do you think the woodlanders would pay as ransom for those young hedgehogs?’

  Fortunata narrowed her eyes calculatingly. ‘Well, I’ve had more dealings with woodlanders than most. They’re a soft, sentimental lot when it comes to young ones. I think that they’d give quite a bit to get them back safe.’

  ‘Safe, that’s the key,’ Tsarmina purred happily. ‘Imagine if the woodlanders saw their babies exposed to real suffering or danger – we could practically name our own terms.’

  The trio relaxed visibly, now that their Queen was in a saner mood.

  There was one other listener to the conversation who had no cause to rejoice: Chibb the robin, perched on the outside window ledge.

  Splitnose was the first to slacken pace. He gradually slowed to an easy lope. Blacktooth joined him, leaving Scratch to make the running. The weasel stopped and turned. He curled his lip in disgust at the pair, who were now sitting
on the grass panting. Scratch ran back energetically, drawing his dagger.

  ‘Get up, you idle worms. Come on. Up on your paws, both of you.’

  Splitnose teased a passing ant with his claws. ‘Ah what’s the point? They’re well away. We’ll never catch em now.’

  Scratch kicked out at Blacktooth. ‘I suppose you think the same, lazybones.’

  Blacktooth kicked back insolently. ‘Oh, give it a rest. You can’t make us run.’

  ‘Right, so it’s mutiny, eh!’ Scratch looked from one to the other disdainfully. ‘Then here’s something for you two buckoes to think about. One, if you don’t get running, I’ll stab the pair of you. Two, unless you decide to run, I won’t share my rations with you. And three, think about when I make my report. The Queen will be pleased to hear how you two lay down on the job.’

  Wordlessly they rose and started running again.

  Gonff trotted alongside his friends, his quick eye noting the landscape.

  ‘It gets a bit hilly further on, mateys. We could drop down and hide in a dozen places. What d’you say? Shall we give ’em the slip?’

  Martin glanced backwards. ‘I’d rather not risk it. They’ve got us in plain view. No, best keep on until evening, then we can pick a good hiding place when it’s dark and camp there the night. Are you all right, Dinny?’

  The mole wrinkled his snout. ‘Doant loik a-runnen. Lucky oi’m stronger’n most. You’m keep a-goen, Marthen. Doant wurry over oi.’

  The noon sun gained intensity. Birds soaring on the upper thermals passed over the six tiny figures below, hunters and hunted.

  To spur themselves on, Splitnose and Blacktooth played a game, shouting out their favourite dishes to each other. Scratch ran a length behind them, keeping his dagger drawn as an insurance against further rebellion. Despite himself, the weasel had to keep licking his lips, not being able to shut his ears against the ferret and the stoat.

  ‘Some of those candy chestnuts and a flagon of cold cider. Could you manage that, Blackie?’

  ‘Oho, could I! How about a baby trout grilled in butter with some of that woodland October ale?’

  ‘Very nice. But have you tried blackberry muffins soaked in warm honey with a few beakers of iced strawberry cordial to wash ’em down?’

  ‘Gaw! Stoppit, Splittie. You’re reminding me of that time when old Lord Greeneyes had a plunder feast at Kotir. Those were the days! I had iced strawberry cordial in a big drinking bowl, with mint leaves floating on it and crushed raspberries too. I remember I sucked it all through a cornstraw. Whew, I must have supped enough of it to have a good bath in.’

  ‘Yurghh!’ Scratch called out in disgust. ‘I was enjoying that until I had a vision of you, all covered in mud and muck, sitting in a bath of iced strawberry cordial with two mint leaves stuck up your snout and a pile of crushed raspberries shoved into your ears. Doesn’t bear thinking about. Anyhow, why don’t you two shut your traps and keep your eyes on those three ahead?’

  Dinny was first to gain the low hills. He ran up one side and rolled down the other. Martin and Gonff joined in until all three were dizzy. They ran onward as the shadows began to lengthen. Gonff gradually dropped back. He was breathing heavily. When they turned to look he waved his paws.

  ‘Keep going, mateys. Phew, this is much harder work than thieving.’

  Without hurting Gonff’s feelings, they slacked their pace to match his. Martin noticed that the blob on the horizon they had seen earlier that day was not merely a low cloud bank.

  ‘Look, Gonff. It’s a range of mountains. Big ones, too. What d’you think, Din?’

  The young mole squinted hard to bring the view into perspective. ‘Ho boi urr, that they be. Oi reckons that be whurr the teeth o’land reaches up to ate woollen sheeps, wi’ they gurt ’eads in clouds.’

  ‘Clever, Dinny mate,’ Gonff nodded admiringly. ‘Exactly as the poem says: “Afar the teeth of land rise up/To bite the wool of sheep.” They look quite close, but don’t let that fool you. We’ve got a fair bit of travelling to do before we reach them.’

  Dinny risked a backward glance through a fold in the hills. ‘Hurr, they vurminbags be none closer oither. ‘Spect us’ns be moightier runners.’

  Scratch had taken the lead again. He knew the others were hungry and sure to follow. Trying to keep their quarry in sight was difficult, as they were often hidden by the hills. Descending the first low hill, he stopped to extract a burr from his pad. The other two ran slap bang into him from behind.

  ‘Clodhoppers!’ he shouted. ‘How is it that you have all this open country to run in, yet you both manage to crash into me? What d’you think this is, a game of leapfrog?’

  More bickering and backbiting ensued. Scratch ended the dispute by banging their heads together. ‘Look, it’s nearly dark now and I’ve gone and lost ’em, thanks to you two oafs!’ He gritted his teeth in frustration.

  Martin and Gonff prepared the evening meal while Dinny enlarged a small hole on the far side of the final hill. In a short while they were happily installed in a superb little cave. Dinny had even dug a ledge halfway round for them to rest on. The three friends lay on the ledge, eating their supper and watching the crimson underbellies of purple cloud rolls as night took over from the long hot day.

  Scratch and his minions sat out in the open on top of the highest hill, hoping that they might catch sight of the others at next daybreak.

  Night on the open lands was both cold and windy.

  Chibb paced the mantelpiece at Brockhall, relating all he had heard at Kotir.

  The Corim were worried by this new threat to Ferdy and Coggs. ‘Hmm, this is an unwelcome development.’ Lady Amber waved her bushy tail anxiously.

  The robin ruffled his crimson breast feathers importantly. ‘Ahem, harrumph. On the surface it would appear to be so. However, our wildcat ally in the prison said to tell you that he may be able to forestall Tsarmina’s plans awhile.’

  Bella looked up to the mantelpiece. ‘How will he manage that, Chibb?’

  The robin folded his wings behind as he explained. ‘Well, ahem, ’scuse me. Gingivere has taken a stone from the walls on each cell, as you know. He proposes to hide both Ferdy and Coggs in his own cell, after sealing the wallholes up. That way, if the enemy do not think of searching his cell too closely, they will naturally suppose that the two prisoners have escaped.’

  There was wholesale approval for the clever plan.

  Skipper had an additional idea. ‘Hark, now. What if we was to pretend that Ferdy and Coggs were safe with us? That’d take suspicion off Gingivere.’

  ‘How will we manage that, Skip?’ Bella was curious to know.

  ‘Easy, marm. We’ll find two other little hedgehogs and disguise ’em, then let ’em be seen by someone from Kotir.’

  ‘Good thinking, Skipper,’ Bella said with approval. ‘But now we’ll really have to think of how we can rescue Ferdy and Coggs. Gingivere’s plan is brave and daring; however, it puts all three at great risk.’

  Lady Amber shook her head. ‘Where do we get two little ones that look like Ferdy and Coggs?’ ‘You may lend my liddle Spike an’ Posy,’ Goody said from the doorway. ‘Long as they don’t come to no ‘arm. Though I must say, they don’t look a smidgeon like my Ferdy an’ Coggs. I can tell my liddle ones apart like apples from nuts.’

  Abbess Germaine tapped a paw to her nose. ‘Two blanket cloaks, two saucepan helmets, a piece of stick each, like the swords of make-believe warriors. I think that would fool anyone from a distance, Goody. But what about a rescue attempt? Have we any kind of firm plan?’

  ‘You leave that to old Skip, marm,’ Skipper laughed drily. ‘Bula, you take charge of the crew while I’m away. I think I’ll pay the Mask a visit.’

  ‘What’s the Mask?’ Several woodlanders voiced the question.

  ‘You’ll soon see!’ Bula winked.

  22

  CONSTERNATION REIGNED AT Kotir.

  A luckless stoat had been ‘volunteered’ from the cell guards b
y Fortunata and Cludd, and he was pushed unwillingly into Tsarmina’s chamber.

  ‘Er, your Maj of the green Queenest, er upper of all ruler and lower Moss. Er, er. . . . The prisoners have gone!’

  ‘Gone! What do you mean, gone?’ The wildcat Queen left her seat in a single bound and picked the stoat up by his throat.

  ‘Yuuurrkkgghhaaaarrr. . . . ‘Scaped.’

  Tsarmina threw the gurgling heap to the floor. Her voice echoed in the stairway as she dashed down to the cells.

  ‘Escaped? Impossible! Guards, get down to the cells quickly.’

  The cells were searched.

  The corridors were scoured.

  The outer walls were surrounded.

  The parade ground was gone over inch by inch.

  The barracks were turned inside out.

  Not a room, passage, cupboard, chamber, kitchen, guardhouse or scullery remained unprobed.

  Gingivere, however, was officially nonexistent. His cell was not searched. Nobody thought of looking in a prison cell that was already bolted and barred.

  Except maybe Tsarmina.

  Columbine sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

  Was it night or day? she wondered. How long had she slept in this warm dry cavern? Everything seemed so quiet and peaceful after the noise and panic of the battle she had witnessed. There was an old patchwork quilt covering her. She pushed it to one side as a little molemaid entered.

  ‘Mawnen to ’ee. Wellcum t’Moledeep. Brekkist be ready.’

  She followed the mole into a larger cave, where Ben Stickle and the woodlanders who had been injured sat with the Loamhedge mice and the mole community.