Travelling light, they made swift progress. It was not far to the stretch of water where the ship was.
Chibb was the first to sight it. He fluttered up and down excitedly. ‘Ahem, see, I told you so. Look at those two big poles sticking up above the trees. They’re, er, harrumph, big poles that stick up on ships.’
Skipper saw them, too.
‘Masts, they are, matey,’ he explained. ‘Let’s get in closer and take a better look.’
On all fours, they crept to the river’s edge, concealing themselves in the bushes as the ship hove into view.
‘You there, come no further,’ Bella called from her hide-out, in the forbidding boom of a warlike badger. ‘If you mean harm to any creature in Mossflower, put back to sea – or deal with me!’
There was silence from the black ship.
On board Wuddshipp, Martin and his friends lay on deck, hidden by the ship’s sides.
Dinny clapped a paw to his mouth, stifling a chuckle. ‘Hurrhurrhurr, oi know oo that be a-shouten.’
‘Bella, good old Bella of Brockhall.’ There was a distant look in Martin’s eyes. ‘For a moment there she sounded like Boar.’
Log-a-Log nodded toward the shore. ‘Well, we can’t lie here all day. Who’s going to answer her?’
Young Dinny solved the problem by standing up and bellowing, ‘Yurr, thurr be a beast aboard oo’s a-perishen frum luv fer one called Combuliney.’
The creatures in the bushes dashed out in time to see the mole hit the water with a splash as Gonff heaved him over the side.
‘Oo arr, glub, ’elp! Oi baint much gudd at swimmen!’
‘Hold fast there, Young Din!’ Skipper called. He was in the water like a flash. He held Young Dinny up as eager paws hauled them on board.
‘Skipper, you old waterwalloper!’
‘Gonff, you young piebandit!’
‘Hallo, Bella. Ahoy, it’s me, Martin!’
‘Martin the Warrior, welcome home. Look who’s here!’
‘Lady Amber, where’s your ear?’
Log-a-Log’s voice rang out, and suddenly Wuddshipp was swarming with shrews, mice, hedgehogs, squirrels and hares.
‘Bring her hard over. Steady to the bank. Mind those masts on the trees. Steady that tiller. Watch her head in the shallows!’
Chibb flew to the ship and perched importantly upon the rail. ‘Ahem, I must fly and conduct good tidings to those languishing in concealment.’
As he flew off, Skipper chuckled. ‘Does that mean he’s going to tell the others? Strike me colours, but this is a fine ’andsome vessel. I never seen the like of it afore on old River Moss. You didn’t steal it, did you, Gonff? Is that two sails I spy? Wonderful. Blow me, look at the size of that tiller! This is a real seagoing craft, all right. What’s that big skull on the for’ard tip? A fish! I don’t believe there’s a fish that big in all the world.’
As Wuddshipp berthed alongside the bank, Timballisto held up his paws laughing heartily. ‘Hold steady, otter. You must be Skipper. I’m Martin’s pal Timballisto. We’ll answer all your questions soon enough.’
Bella and Lady Amber came aboard, gazing about in awe as they hugged Martin, Gonff and Dinny.
Bella smiled fondly at the warrior mouse as she patted his back. ‘Martin, you’ve grown. You really look like a full-blooded warrior now. What a beautiful sword that is! Is my father here? Where’s old Boar the Fighter?’
A silence fell over the ship’s crew. Martin gently took Bella’s paw.
‘Come into the cabin with me, old friend. I have a long story to tell you.’
There were many stories told that summer afternoon while Martin and Bella remained in the cabin. Ferdy and Coggs, Spike and Posy sat among a group of woodlanders on the deck. The little hedgehogs wore brass sea rat earrings and carried a round shield each. Their eyes were wide and mouths agape as Gonff related the events which had befallen the travellers since they left Mossflower to go questing for Salamandastron. Ben Stickle, Goody and the Abbess were equally impressed, smiling broadly when Gonff could not get his paw loose to illustrate a point because Columbine was clasping it tight.
‘Toads, mateys. You’ve never seen toads as wicked as this lot. But when that eel came slithering out of the Screamhole. . . .’
‘Was the eel as big as a tree, Mr Gonff?’
‘Twice as big, Spike. He’d have eaten you without even opening his mouth.’
Lady Amber chuckled drily. ‘Are you sure you saw mice with wings, Gonff?’
‘Oh, I never saw them. But Martin and Dinny did. Isn’t that right, Din.’
‘Burr aye. Gurt leathery burdmouses, a-flyen about inside ’ee mounten.’
‘Was that Salamandastron mountain, Mr Dinny?’
‘Indeed it was not. Batchaps inside our mountain? Never!’
‘Fat chance, young feller me hog, what!’
‘Only fire, hares and badgers inside our mountain, old lad.’
Gonff looked severely at Trubbs and co. ‘Who’s telling this story, me or you?’
‘Yes, please be quiet and let Mr Gonff tell the story, Trubbs.’
‘Rather, he’s a much better storyteller than you.’
‘Indeed, and isn’t little Columbine pretty.’
‘Then there was this beach,’ Gonff continued enthusiastically. ‘Huge, big as Mossflower, nothing but sand as far as you could see, besides the water and the crabs.’
‘Ooh, what’s a crab, Mr Gonff?’
‘Well, it’s like a spider, only a hundred times bigger, with great nipping claws and lots of hard armour.’
‘Did you and Martin slay the big crab, Mr Gonff?’
‘Er, well, no, Ferdy. Actually I ended up dancing with it.’
‘Hahahahahaha!’
‘Was it a pretty lady crab, Gonff?’
‘No, I think it was a jolly sort of male crab, Columbine.’
‘Oh, then that’s all right.’
‘Here, I nearly forgot, this is a necklace of shells I made for you. Put it on.’
‘Oh, thank you, Gonff, it’s beautiful. Are they crab shells?’
‘No, missie, them’s shell shells, c’llected ’em moiself, oi did.’
‘While Gonff was busy dancing with the crabs, I suppose. Thank you very much, Dinny.’
The mousethief chose to ignore the reference to his dancing talent and continued the narrative.
He told of the sands, the movement of mighty sea tides, of the scavenging seabirds and the dead rat whose provisions saved their own lives. He described the meeting with Trubbs and co. and how they led the travellers to the mountain. Gonff went on to tell of the fabulous place called Salamandastron, its halls, caves, stairs and passages. He related to his amazed audience the saga of Boar the Fighter, of his roaring forge, gigantic battle sword and his colossal bravery in the war against the sea rats. Gonff told of the struggle that ended with Boar and Ripfang going together to the gates of Dark Forest, and finished with the capture of the ship Bloodwake, now called Wuddshipp.
There was a moment’s complete silence, then the woodlanders flocked about him, babbling questions.
Timballisto and some former oarslaves saved Gonff from further harrassment by lugging large copper tubs out from the galley.
‘Right. Form a line here. It’s skilly and duff time!’
The young ones sniffed the savoury odours as he explained, ‘Seafood and potato stew, that’s skilly. It’ll put hairs on your chest like a giant sea dog. There’s plenty of pepper and sea salt in it, too. Finish it all up and show me a clean plate, then I’ll dish you up some of my own warrior’s recipe: plum and chestnut duff in cream and beechnut sauce. Come on, there’s plenty for everyone.’
Night fell as Wuddshipp rode at anchor, kedged safe in midstream. Martin emerged from the cabin looking pale and sad after the news he had related to Bella. He called the six hares to him.
‘Go to the cabin, Bella wishes to talk with you,’ he told them. ‘Tell her all you know of her father and the time you spent in his
company on the mountain.’
‘Rely on us old chap.’
‘Only the good times. Mum’s the word, y’know.’
‘That’s the ticket. How strong Boar was.’
‘Like a father to us. A handsome badger, what!’
‘He taught us all so much. He was so understanding.’
‘How could we forget such a dear friend.’
Before they slept, the travellers were closeted with the Corim leaders to hear how Mossflower had fared in their absence. When they had learned all, they went out onto the deck. The little ones had been bedded down in the cabins, but the novelty of hammock sleeping lost out to weariness. Outside on the deck, every creature was assembled, packing the rails and rigging.
Bella stood with her paw upon the tiller, red-eyed with grief but calm and composed.
Martin took command instinctively. The warrior mouse seemed to have grown in stature and confidence since his return, every woodlander now looked upon him with a respect which bordered upon awe. He stood on the peak of the after end gallery, the sword glinting under a full moon.
‘Friends, I have heard all, and my companions have told you everything that happened to us on our quest. Now I am back.’
Abbess Germaine nodded approvingly at the commanding figure. ‘Tell us what you want us to do, Martin.’
The warrior mouse drew his sword and leaned on the pommel stone as his blade pierced the deck timbers.
‘Trust me, Mossflower will be saved. I have been thinking of a plan that I will not explain at present. First I must see certain things before I know it can be executed properly. Now we must sleep until the morning. Tomorrow, after the little ones are somewhere safe, you will see what I intend. Do not worry any more. Our force has been doubled by the numbers who have sailed back with us, and we have seasoned warriors with us now. Boar the Fighter cannot be here tonight, but I know that his strong spirit watches over us. From beyond the gates of Dark Forest he has sent me with this sword to make an end of Tsarmina and all who follow her. I promise you that I will.’
Every creature who saw Martin the Warrior that night knew without a shadow of doubt: he was the one chosen to keep that promise.
BOOK THREE
Of Water and Warriors
46
DEEP BENEATH KOTIR the water level had risen gradually. Now it was above the rock sections removed by the moles.
Hour by hour it had risen fractionally. To the casual ear the trickling had stopped, but it was still adding silently to the volume, as it seeped in from below the surface of the gradually rising lake.
Standing at her high window, Tsarmina breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the soothing summer breeze that blew in from Mossflower Woods.
At last the accursed dripping had stopped!
She felt light-headedly happy. Dark fearful night had given way to this beautiful calm sunlit morning, taking with it the haunting sounds of the water.
Brogg was right, she thought, even though he was only an oafish weasel. There was a certain sense to his logic. Imagination was a strange thing, which played odd tricks upon an overwrought mind.
Now a new resolution was forming in Tsarmina’s devious brain, one she considered worthy of her talents.
Mossflower must be conquered!
The eagle was gone; Bane too. And her forces were stronger now with the addition of his one-time mercenaries.
Tsarmina allowed herself an audible snigger. That Bane! He had even taken the trouble to restore and repair all the Kotir woodwork, in anticipation of taking over from her, the Queen of Mossflower. Stupid fox!
Furnishing herself with a bowl of milk and a roasted woodpigeon, she mentally thanked Bane for his supplies, adding another point to her favour. She sat down to breakfast and some earnest thought as to the final solution of the woodlanders.
Tsarmina rang the bell to summon Brogg.
‘Your Majesty?’
‘Ah, Brogg. Put aside that sword and sit over here at my table.’
‘Thank you, Milady.’
‘This morning I was thinking of appointing some new Captains. However, I have since changed my mind, Brogg. You will remain as the one and only officer, giving out my orders, of course.’
Brogg sat to attention, his chest puffed out proudly. ‘Oh, thank you, Milady, thank you. I’ll make you proud of me. You won’t regret this. Wait and see, I’ll—’
Tsarmina silenced the babbling Captain with a wave of the woodpigeon carcass.
‘Enough chattering, Brogg. Let me tell you what you must do to earn this great honour.’
‘I am yours to command, my Queen.’
‘Good. I want traps, lots of traps. Snares, nets, pits – anything we can think up.’
‘Traps, Milady?’
‘Yes, traps, you great buffoon. I want traps laid all over that forest out there.’
Brogg grinned as recognition dawned. ‘We’ll capture some woodland prisoners.’
‘Capture, kill, maim – I don’t care, as long as it makes those creatures afraid to set paw outside their hiding place, wherever they may be. I’ll turn the tables on them, and they’ll never pen us in again. Give them a good long summer of my scheme, and they’ll be only too willing to accept my terms – those who are left after the traps begin their work.’
‘Right, Milady. I’ll start today. How about some covered pits with sharpened stakes at the bottom?’
‘Excellent, Brogg. At last you’re talking my language. Also, we could arrange some thin strangling nooses concealed in the deep loam.’
‘Great idea, Milady. How about some big nets and trip ropes?’
‘Splendid. Make sure you have lots of poisoned hooks tied in the net meshes. Oh, and don’t forget the old bent sapling trick with the hidden noose. You can always bank on some lumbering badger or hopping squirrel to step into it, eh, Brogg.’
‘Yes, Milady. Imagine all those woodlanders dangling upside down by their back paws. Huhuhu!’
‘Hmm, just like apples waiting to be picked.’
‘Oh, huhuhu. We might just leave them to ripen until autumn before we pick ’em, Milady.’
‘Heehee. Very good Brogg. I never imagined you had such a sense of humour.’
‘Oh, I have my moments, Milady.’
‘Well, make sure your moments are all victorious ones from now on, my one and only Captain.’
Brogg saluted awkwardly, knocking the chair over as he rose. ‘Yes, Majesty. I’ll get right down to it this very morning.’
Tsarmina caught the end of his cloak, pulling him back. ‘There you go, rushing and dashing about like a sparrow after a fly. Priorities, Brogg. If you must do a job, do it properly. Take your time. Gather the right equipment together, organize the troops into squads, give each one a team leader and offer rewards for the most ingenious traps and the best results. Do you see the idea?’
Brogg’s face brightened at the power he was about to wield. ‘You’re right, Milady. I’ll spend all today organizing, then we can make a start first thing tomorrow.’
He departed, leaving Tsarmina back at her high window, still clutching the woodpigeon. She destroyed the carcass by crushing it with a single blow and hurled it out of the window toward the forest.
‘Here, have something to eat, woodlanders,’ she shrieked. ‘You’ll need it by the time autumn comes. I’ll keep you penned up in your holes. We’ll see who runs out of supplies first.’
Abbess Germaine and Columbine were taking the little ones to stay with Gingivere and Sandingomm. Bella drew a map to direct them. Ferdy and Coggs were torn between visiting their uncle Gingivere and staying behind to become warrior seadogs. Gonff had a word with them.
‘Listen, mateys, Martin and I can’t be spared to guard the little uns, that’s why we thought of sending you two. Imagine how much safer the Abbess and Columbine will feel, knowing that Ferdy and Coggs are along to protect the convoy. I’ve made you a sling each and a pouch of throwing pebbles apiece.’
‘Honest to goodness re
al ones, Mr Gonff?’
‘Aye, the same as Martin and I carry.’
Ferdy had only one thing to say: ‘Right, Coggs. Let’s line these creatures up. I’ll tell the Abbess and Columbine to lead, we’ll protect the rear.’
They departed amidst much cheering and paw-waving, both warriors getting their snouts wiped soundly on the corner of Goody’s apron.
The Corim leaders set about the distribution of arms. Log-a-Log and his shrews were proficient archers; they used the squirrel shoulder bows as standing longbows, and Lady Amber saw to it they were well supplied. The six hares fell gladly into Skipper’s company. They were well liked by the otters, and proved to be as efficient with javelins as they were with their own big pikes, which were greatly admired by the otter crew.
The Loamhedge mice were unused to any sort of weapon, so they joined Goody Stickle to help in any way possible – healing, repairing, and running the field kitchen. Timballisto and Young Dinny took the moles. They banded together with the former oar slaves, between them there was an amazing variety of weapons.
Bella strolled over to review them.
‘Well well, who’s in charge of this bloodthirsty crew?’ she asked, receiving two salutes.
‘Captains Timballisto and Young Dinny of the Mossflower irregulars reporting for duty, marm.’
Young Dinny brandished a dagger, he was decked out in a many-coloured fringed silk sash and brass sea rat earrings.
‘Haharr, we’m a roight drefful rabble an’ ready furr foighten owt.’
Bella returned the salute as she tried to hide a smile.
In the for’ard cabin of Wuddshipp, Martin spoke secretly with five strong, experienced otters. When he emerged, the banks were thronged with a horde waiting upon his word. Every eye was upon him as he sprang from the side of the vessel and waded ashore through the shallows. Timballisto had found his old battle armour in the sea rat lockers. He came forward and buckled it on his friend in silence. Setting the round war helmet firmly on Martin’s head, he strapped the breastplate on and buckled the greaves about the warrior’s paws. Bella and the hares presented Martin with a scabbard and sword-belt which matched his sword to perfection.
Mossflower (Redwall) Page 33