Mossflower (Redwall) Page 11

  Bella scratched her stripes reflectively. ‘Have you seen Chibb?’

  ‘Yes. He’s been around Kotir. Nothing to report, really. I sent him on a wide patrol of the woods. Maybe he’ll bring news before nightfall.’

  The searchers returned at noon. Goody had busied herself setting out a salad luncheon on the sward outside Brockhall. Woodlanders ate in silence, avoiding any mention of the lost young ones while Goody was about. Shortly they set off again to resume searching. It was not a happy day in Mossflower. Martin was torn with a desire to help the searchers and curious to find out more about the mysterious place called Salamandastron. The former won; by early noon he was out searching with the others, knowing that Bella would tell him more that night.

  Tsarmina stood at her high chamber window, watching the perimeter of the woodland where the trees thinned out into shrubs and bushes. There they were, at last!

  The ragged columns tramped out of the woodlands with Cludd bawling orders at them.

  ‘Come on, you sloppy mob, smarten yourselves up into proper ranks. Right markers, lead off. Tidy that pace up there. I’ll not have you lolloping into the garrison like a load of hedgehogs on daisychain day. You there! Yes, you! Liven your ideas up, me laddo, or I’ll liven them up for you with my spear.’

  The Captain’s voice drifted up to Tsarmina. She could see plainly that there had been no losses among her troops. Neither had there been any mass of captives taken. In a sudden outburst of vicious temper, she slashed a wall curtain from top to bottom with her wicked claws, before storming out down the stairs to the parade ground.

  The three platoons staggered to an untidy halt in the courtyard. Wearily they bumbled their way into formation, shouldering weapons and showing Thousand Eye shields front and centre. Tsarmina checked her rush in the doorway and strode gracefully out with sinuously waving tail and baleful eye. A tremor rippled the ranks as they stood stiffly to attention, all eyes front. They saluted jointly.

  ‘Hail, Tsarmina, Wildcat Queen of the Thousand Eyes, Ruler of all Mossfl—’

  ‘Save your breath, fools. You’ll get your chance to speak when I say and not before.’ Tsarmina prowled between the ranks, missing nothing, not even the two pitiful forms that lay bound on the gravel.

  Fortunata stood rooted to the spot, feeling the Queen’s feral breath raising the hairs on the nape of her neck.

  ‘Well, fox, it seems that you all had a cheery spring outing in the woods. I notice that half the patrols are injured in one way or another. Tell me, did those two small woodlanders put up such a ferocious battle?’

  Tsarmina continued circling Fortunata, her voice at a level of dangerous calm. ‘No need to worry now, eh, fox. We’ve caught their two champion warriors this time. What, if I may ask, was your heroic part in all this?’

  Fortunata’s limbs trembled with the effort of standing motionless. ‘It was Cludd who caught them, Milady. He found them asleep in a tent made from a blanket. Ashleg and I helped to bring them in.’

  Tsarmina repeated the phrase slowly. ‘You helped to bring them in. I see. Good work!’

  The pine marten was next to receive Tsarmina’s attention.

  ‘Ah, my fearless friend Ashleg, you must be in great pain. Did one of those two bold rogues nibble through your wooden leg?’

  ‘No, Majesty. That happened when my patrol was attacked by Fortunata’s command in the night,’ Ashleg blurted out, surprised at the shrillness of his own voice.

  Tsarmina widened her eyes in mock horror. ‘How awful! We attacked ourselves in the dark. No doubt it was all a little mistake.’

  ‘That’s right Milady, just a bit of a mistake, it could have happened to anyone, really.’ Fortunata’s protest sounded hollow.

  The wildcat turned her back on the whole scene. Paws akimbo, she stood staring out toward Mossflower. When she eventually spoke her tones dripped sarcasm and controlled rage.

  ‘Get out of my sight, all of you idiotic scum. Down on your bellies and crawl back into the barracks like the worms you are. That way I won’t have to look at your thick gormless faces slobbering excuses at me. Go on, clear off, the lot of you! Fortunata, Ashleg, Cludd – bring the prisoners up to my chamber.’

  Less than a minute later, Argulor stirred on his spruce branch and blinked owlishly, unaware that he had missed the chance of snatching a quick meal from the parade ground. He dozed off again in the hot afternoon sun as Chibb shot across the front of him, bound for Brockhall and safety. The tiny redbreasted spy had not missed a single word or movement of what took place on the parade ground.

  A group of sad-faced creatures sat in the main hall of Bella’s home.

  Gonff tossed the blanket and empty cordial jar on the table in front of the Corim leaders. ‘Found ’em over to the west, about halfway between here and Kotir. The place stank of weasel and ferret. Lots of tracks – a big party, I’d say. Anyone got more news?’

  Bella looked around the searchers who had returned, checking that the Stickles were not present. She kept her voice low. ‘Chibb saw them trussed up on the parade ground at Kotir earlier today. There’s no doubt about it: Ferdy and Coggs have been taken prisoner. They were carried off to the wildcat’s chamber for probable questioning.’

  Skipper slammed a paw against the hearth. ‘Mates, it doesn’t bear thinkin’ about, those two pore little fellers in the vermins’ brig.’

  Columbine’s voice had a sob in it. ‘What’ll we tell Ben and Goody, poor creatures.’

  Gonff was in no doubt at all. ‘Tell ’em we’ll rescue little Ferdy and Coggs back straightaway. That’s what we’ll do, mateys!’

  There was a roar of approval.

  Bella called for silence. ‘Please, Gonff, be sensible. I’m certain that the Corim will agree to mount a rescue operation as soon as possible. But let us not run off or do anything reckless in the meanwhile. It would only end up in more prisoners being taken, or lives being lost.’

  ‘Bella is right.’ Abbess Germaine put in. ‘I suggest that you let me preside over the rescue operation. We can use all of you, especially Chibb; he will be of more value to us now than ever before. Meanwhile, let us keep our hopes high and tempers in check. Bella is very busy working on something else for our benefit with Martin, and they must be excluded from the rescue attempt.’

  Bella was astonished. She looked blankly at Germaine.

  The old Abbess smiled back at her. ‘I too was out taking the air in the woods early this morning.’

  Bella bowed to the Abbess. ‘Thank you for offering your help, old friend.’

  Bella and Martin retired to the study. Immediately Bella closed the door, Martin turned to her.

  ‘Bella, I have decided. I will find Boar the Fighter – I will undertake the journey to Salamandastron.’

  Bella took hold of the warrior’s paws. ‘Are you sure you want to do this thing, Martin?’

  Martin nodded firmly. ‘For you and all my friends in Mossflower, I will find this strange place, even if it is at the world’s end. And I will bring back your father Boar the Fighter.’

  The door swung open. Gonff entered, rubbing a paw to his ear.

  ‘Funny things, doors. Sometimes it’s as if they’re not there, and you can hear everything. By the way, Miss Bella, I’m surprised at you. Fancy sending my matey off on a quest without an able-bodied assistant.’

  Martin hesitated. He looked to Bella. ‘I’d feel a lot safer with a good thief along.’

  The kindly badger smiled. ‘Of course. Careless of me. Welcome, Gonff. We may need a brain as sharp as yours.’

  They sat on the edge of a scroll-littered desk, while Bella settled comfortably into a dusty old armchair. She sighed and looked from one to the other.

  ‘Well, I wish I knew where to begin. Fighting badgers have been going off questing for Salamandastron as far back as memory goes. My grandfather, old Lord Brocktree, went off when I was very small, then later he was followed by my father, Boar the Fighter.’

  ‘Is there any record of wheth
er they ever found it, or are there any maps of the way to Salamandastron?’ Martin interrupted.

  Bella stroked her stripes thoughtfully. ‘There must be a map somewhere. Both Lord Brocktree and Boar seemed to know where they were going. One thing I do know, it would be far too difficult to find the place of dragons without some form of key or map. You would need directions.’

  Gonff smiled disarmingly. He picked up a bundle of scrolls from the desktop.

  ‘Well, mateys, the solution is simple. Let’s find the map!’

  It had been a confused and frightening day for the two little hedgehogs. Since they had been taken by Cludd’s patrol, not a word had passed between them. Both lay on the floor of Tsarmina’s room, trying to forget the pains that shot through their bound-up paws and the filthy-tasting gags tied roughly across their mouths. Ferdy snuffled through his nostrils for breath and exchanged glances with Coggs.

  What must Goody and Ben be doing?

  Would the Corim leaders organize a search and a rescue?

  What lay ahead they could only guess, but it wasn’t going to be very pleasant.

  Tsarmina sat watching impassively as Ashleg cut the captives’ bonds and relieved them of their gags. Ferdy and Coggs lay quite still, fighting back tears as the circulation was painfully restored to their swollen limbs.

  Cludd stirred the inert forms with his spearpoint. ‘Huh, they’re fit enough, Milady. Wait’ll their tongues loosen up, and we’ll see what they’ve got to say for themselves.’

  Coggs rolled closer to Ferdy. ‘Don’t tell the villains a thing, matey. Let’s be like Martin and Gonff: brave and silent.’ His voice was barely above a whisper.

  Fortunata kicked out cruelly at Coggs. She regretted it immediately as her paw came into contact with his sharp little spines.

  ‘Silence, prisoner. Don’t you know you’re in the presence of Her Majesty Queen Tsarmina?’

  Ferdy curled his lip rebelliously at the vixen. ‘She’s not our Majesty – we’re woodlanders.’

  Tsarmina leaned forward to the two little creatures lying at the foot of her chair. Bringing her face near them she slitted her eyes venomously. Baring her great yellowed fangs and extending her fearsome claws, she gave vent to a sudden wild growl.

  ‘Yeeeggaarroooorrr!’

  Ferdy and Coggs clutched at each other, their eyes wide with terror.

  Tsarmina laughed and leaned back in her chair. ‘Now, my two tiny woodland heroes, let’s begin, shall we?’

  The wildcat’s expression became almost benevolent as she took a tray of food from a table and sat with it in her lap.

  ‘You, Ferdy – or is it Coggs? Wouldn’t you like some milk and biscuits? A rosy autumn apple, perhaps? Or maybe you prefer dried fruit and nuts? Look, they won’t hurt you.’

  Tsarmina bit into an apple, washing it down with a draught of milk.

  The two small hedgehogs gazed longingly as she ate. They had not tasted food since dawn that morning.

  Tsarmina selected a biscuit. Tossing the apple aside, she nibbled daintily, flicking crumbs from her whiskers.

  Ferdy licked his lips. Coggs nudged him warningly. ‘It’s probably all poisoned. Don’t touch it.’

  Tsarmina placed the platter on the floor close to them. ‘Silly, if it were poison I’d be ill by now. Try it yourself, it’s all from my special store. All I want is that you tell me about your woodland friends.’

  Coggs yawned and muttered wearily, ‘Don’t tell her anything, matey. Not a word.’

  Ferdy yawned.

  Tsarmina sat watching the two young captives. Their eyelids were beginning to droop, so she decided to try another angle. Stretching luxuriously, she yawned and snuggled deep in the big cushioned chair.

  ‘I’ll bet you two are tired. Mmmm, wouldn’t it be nice to lie down on a bed of clean fresh straw and sleep for as long as you please? You can, too. It’s quite simple, really. Just tell me about your friends – who they are, where they live and so on. I won’t harm them, you have my word. They’ll thank you for it later when they are truly free. What do you say?’

  Ferdy blinked hard, fighting back sleep. ‘Our friends are already free from you.’

  Tsarmina controlled her mounting temper by burying her claws in a russet apple. ‘That’s as may be. But consider your own position. You two aren’t free, and you’re not likely to be, until you get some sense into your heads and answer my questions. D’you hear me?’

  The wildcat’s threats fell upon deaf ears. Ferdy and Coggs lay with their heads resting against each other, nodding slightly as they snored. They were both fast asleep.

  Cludd touched them gently with his spearbutt. ‘Huh, it beats me why you don’t string ’em both up and give ’em a taste of your claws, Milady. That’d soon make them talk.’

  Tsarmina’s voice was tinged with heavy sarcasm. ‘You would think that, thickhead. How long d’you suppose they’d last with that treatment? These two are valuable hostages. Carry them down to the cells and lock them up for the night. We’ll see if they are hungry enough to talk business tomorrow.’

  Gingivere heard the sound of an upstairs door opening. Someone was coming.

  It was Cludd, accompanied by Ashleg and Fortunata. A key turned in the lock of the cell to the wildcat’s immediate left. He heard Cludd’s voice giving orders.

  ‘Right. One in here, and one in the cell on the other side of the prisoner whose name must not be mentioned by Milady’s order. They must be kept apart.’

  When the trio had departed, Gingivere reflected upon this new development. Whoever the prisoners were, he knew that Chibb the robin would be interested next time he visited Kotir.

  18

  YOUNG DINNY THE mole knocked upon Bella’s study door with his heavy digging claw.

  ‘Hello, who is it?’ Gonff’s voice rang out from within.

  ‘Hurr, it be Young Din. Miz Goody sent oi with these yurr viddles furr ’ee.’

  Martin opened the door and admitted the mole balancing a tray of food. Young Dinny blinked. The inside of the study was a mass of dust, scrolls, open drawers and general confusion. As Bella took the tray from the mole, Gonff leaped upon him from the desktop. They rolled about together on the floor, wrestling and hugging each other at the same time. Gonff laughed joyfully.

  ‘Young Din, where’ve you been keeping yourself, me old diggin’ mate?’

  Dinny gained the upper paw and sat on Gonff. ‘Wurr you’m been, zurr Gonffen? You’m a-getten’ fatter, hurr.’

  Gonff introduced his mole friend to Martin while struggling to heave Dinny off. ‘Matey, this is Young Dinny, the strongest mole in Mossflower.’

  The young mole allowed Gonff to get up. He smiled modestly as he shook paws with Martin.

  ‘Naw, oi baint the strongest. Moi owd granfer Dinny, ’ee be the moightiest mole in these yurr parts, even tho’ ’ee seen many summers. Oi be ’onoured to meet ’ee, Marthen.’

  Martin took an instant liking to the friendly mole. They sat and shared the food while Bella explained the nature of the search.

  Dinny gazed around at the masses of dusty scrolls littering the room. ‘Oi’d best lend a paw or winter’ll be upon uz afore ’ee foinds owt.’

  The search was proving long and fruitless. Cupboards were turned out, the desk was emptied, shelves were scoured without success. The bulk of the scrolls were mainly old Brockhall records. Some were Bella’s recipes, others dealt with woodland lore – none of them filed in any system. Bella brushed dust from her coat and sighed.

  ‘I’m afraid it’s all a bit higgledy-piggledy. I’ve been meaning to put them in order for some seasons now, but I never had time to get around to it.’

  Martin banged his paw on the desktop in frustration. ‘If only we knew ex . . . Oof!’

  A secret drawer shot out from the desk, catching the warrior mouse heavily in his stomach. He sat down, surprised and winded.

  Bella took the single yellowed parchment from the drawer and read its contents aloud.

  ‘To t
he mountain of fire where badgers go,

  The path is fraught with danger.

  The way is long and hard and slow,

  Through foe and hostile stranger.

  The warrior’s heart must never fail,

  Or falter on his quest.

  Those who live to tell the tale,

  First must turn the crest.’

  Gonff looked bemused. ‘Is that all?’

  Martin took the parchment and scanned it carefully on both sides. ‘Yes, that seems to be it.’

  Bella sat in her chair with an air of resignation. ‘Well, there doesn’t appear to be much to go on.’

  Dinny tapped the parchment with his digging claws. ‘Hurr, it be a start, tho’. This yurr’s a clue may’aps.’

  Martin brightened up. ‘Of course, it tells us how to start. Look: “Those who live to tell the tale, first must turn the crest.” Bella, you would know, what does it mean by, “turn the crest”?’

  The badger pondered awhile. ‘I think it refers to the Brockhall shield – that’s the badger family crest. It takes the form of a shield with the great oak of Brockhall on one half and the stripes of a badger on the other. Beneath it is a scroll bearing our family motto: To serve at home or afar.’

  ‘But where is this crest and how do we turn it?’ Gonff asked, scratching his whiskers.

  Bella stood up. ‘I know of at least two places where it may be seen. The first is on the door knocker of Brockhall and the second over the hearth in the main hall. Come on, let’s try them both.’

  The four friends trooped out to the front door, where Bella seized the rusty iron door knocker and twisted it sharply. The old metal snapped under the considerable strength of the badger, who stood holding it in her paw with a slightly guilty expression.

  ‘Oops! I think I’ve broken it.’

  Young Dinny shrugged. ‘Never moind, Miz Bell, moi granfer’ll fix it for ’ee. Whurr’s t’other un?’