Mossflower (Redwall) Page 17

  Fortunata rapped lightly at the chamber door and entered.

  ‘Milady, oh, you’ve already seen them.’

  Tsarmina did not even turn to look at Fortunata. She continued peering intently at the two little figures in the middle of the squirrel group.

  ‘Are they taunting us do you think?’ she asked.

  Fortunata joined her at the window. ‘No, woodlanders don’t go in for that sort of display, Milady.’

  To her surprise, Fortunata found Tsarmina patting her approvingly. ‘Good thinking, fox. Shall I send out a party to try and capture them?’

  Fortunata shook her head. ‘I’d advise against it, Milady. They’d only sweep off into the trees, making our soldiers look foolish. Squirrels always do.’

  Tsarmina smiled. She sat up on the window ledge, winking at the vixen. ‘Clever, very clever, Fortunata. You aren’t as dull or slow-witted as Cludd and Ashleg. Listen now, I have better eyesight than you or any creature in Mossflower. I’ve been watching those two little hedgehogs, and there’s something not quite right about them.’

  ‘Not quite right, Milady?’ Fortunata was baffled, but she tried her best to look intelligent.

  Tsarmina tapped a paw to her nose. ‘Exactly. They’re playing little games with me, those woodlanders. But I have a game or two of my own to play. Tell me, you know these woods and their creatures better than anyone in Kotir, don’t you?’

  Fortunata was pleased that Tsarmina was confiding in her, but she began to feel uneasy. There was often an unpleasant sting in the tail of her Queen’s schemes.

  ‘I was born and brought up in Mossflower country, Milady. What is it that you require from me?’

  ‘Fortunata, we are surrounded by blunderers.’ Tsarmina’s tone was that of an old and trusting friend. ‘You are the only one I can really rely on. I never forget those who serve me well. I haven’t forgotten that you helped me to be Queen with your knowledge of herbs. This is a big area to rule, and it becomes lonely. I could do with someone as wise and clever as yourself to share that rule. But first I am going to ask you to do me a favour. Think carefully before you answer, because on that answer rests our friendship. Will you do me this favour?’

  The greedy fox fell headlong into the trap. ‘I am yours to command, Queen Tsarmina.’

  The wildcat ruler smiled like a cat with a bird. ‘Well said, friend. Now, what I want you to do is this. . . .’

  24

  THE CORIM WERE startled.

  Skipper strolled into Brockhall followed by a ferret. Before Lady Amber could fit arrow to bow, or Bella pick up a poker to strike the foe, Skipper addressed them heartily.

  ‘Mates, don’t get your ropes in a tangle. This ’ere ferret is an otter. Meet my brother, the Mask.’

  The Mask bowed low. Stripping the bindings from his ears, he removed the bark slivers that sharpened his muzzle, pulled out the wicked eyeteeth and undid his imitation tail.

  Bella pounded the sides of her chair with a heavy paw. ‘Wonderful, he is indeed an otter. Welcome to Brockhall, Mr Mask.’

  Abbess Germaine seated the otter, placing food and drink before him. ‘So you are the Mask. I have lived long and seen strange things, but never one as strange as you, though I hope you will forgive me for saying so, sir.’

  Mask shook the Abbess warmly by the paw. ‘It is a strange world marm, you will forgive me saying, but never have I seen such friendly and gentle mice as you and your oddly dressed followers.’

  Skipper patted Mask on the back. ‘Friends, you wouldn’t believe your eyes if you saw old Mask in some of the get-ups I’ve seen him in.’

  ‘Oh, tell us Skip.’ Columbine leaned forward eagerly.

  Skipper took a draught of cider from Mask’s cup. ‘I couldn’t begin to tell you all this one’s disguises, but just as an instance, he gave me the slip coming through the forest. I looked high and low for him. Ha, there was the old deceiver stood right next to me, up against a tree, got up as a piece of bark, would you believe!’

  Spike and Posy clung to Columbine’s habit, staring wide-eyed at the strange otter.

  ‘Did you really, Mr Mask, sir?’ Spike asked.

  Mask chuckled as he fed them a slice of apple each. ‘Oh, aye. That’s an easy one. All you need is an old piece of bark as big as yourself and the right tree. You just stand there and think the same thoughts as the tree, and presto!’

  ‘What others can you do, sir?’ Posy wanted to know.

  ‘Oh, a fox, a squirrel, a hedgehog like you, even – you name it. Haha, otters are pretty hard to do, though. Funny tails, you see.’

  ‘Could you be a bird?’ Spike inquired.

  ‘Well, er, let’s say I’m practising that one, shall we?’

  ‘A stoat or a rat, then?’ Posy persisted.

  ‘No trouble. They’re the easiest to do. It’s all a question of studying shape, really.’

  Abbess Germaine was impressed. ‘You say you could look like a stoat, weasel or even a fox?’

  The Mask winked. ‘Indeed I can, marm. That’s why I’m here.’

  Early evening shadows were beginning to lengthen across the plain. Dinny looked to the mountains on the horizon, and judged the distance shrewdly.

  ‘We’m be vurry close to yon mountings on t’morrer, Marthen.’

  The warrior mouse glanced toward the massed rock. ‘So we will, Din. As to how we’ll cross them, I’m at a loss. Look at the size of them. They almost disappear into the sky.’

  ‘Don’t you worry, mateys,’ Gonff said confidently. ‘We haven’t come this far to be beaten by an old stone hill. Besides, we don’t have to worry about those vermin following us. The swans probably dealt with them.’

  Dinny’s snout rose into the air. ‘Oi’m a-smellen’ more watter thru ’ee paws agin.’

  ‘What, more water, Din?’ Martin asked.

  ‘Burr aye. Runnen watter thiz toim.’

  ‘Best keep our eyes skinned for swans, eh, mateys,’ Gonff warned.

  ‘Hoo arr, doant wanna see skwons no more.’

  Gonff was first to find the broad stream. It was not quite wide enough to be classed as a river. The mousethief strode down the bank and recited aloud to the flowing waters,

  ‘O’er golden acres far below.

  Our wings beat strong and true,

  Where deep and wet, see flowing yet,

  Another snake of blue.’

  Martin looked to the opposite bank. ‘It seems peaceful enough, but it’s far too wide to cross here. We’ll camp here tonight and scout the bank for an easier crossing in the morning.’

  The mild spring evening was very pleasant by the water. Dinny scooped out a circle while Martin set flint to the steel of his broken sword and started a small fire. Gonff repaired his fishing line. Within a short time he landed a plump young bream.

  The three travellers sat around the fire, watching the fish grilling in a cradle of green reeds over the flames. Firelight flickered and danced in Dinny’s buttonlike eyes.

  ‘Warmff, hurr hurr. Oi do likes warmff.’

  Gonff tested the fish with his knifepoint. ‘It’ll be ready soon, mateys. A little loaf apiece toasted up, some cress from the water’s edge, a beaker of fresh streamwater, and we’re snug for the night.’

  The stream gurgled and eddied ceaselessly toward the distant mountains as they enjoyed a spell of rest on its soft mossy bank.

  Splitnose and Blacktooth had wandered aimlessly. Without Scratch to direct them they were lost. Night found the pair out upon the open plain, hungry, tired and thirsty. Splitnose lay down, snuggling sleepily against the grass. Blacktooth was restless.

  ‘Huh, I’m not sleeping out in the open again. There must be a hole or a cave hereabouts. Might be a bite of grub, too.’

  ‘Oh lie down and get some rest,’ Splitnose murmured sleepily. ‘You’re as bad as Cludd or Scratch. Get some sleep, and we’ll see what it’s like round here in the morning. I’m not moving. Might even sleep late, too.’

  Blacktooth moved off. ‘Right
. You stay here. I’ll be back if I can’t find something better. I could swear there’s water running nearby. I’ll go and take a look.’

  ‘Mind the swans don’t eat you,’ Splitnose called out, his eyes still closed.

  Blacktooth was back sooner than expected. He danced about, giggling quietly to himself.

  ‘Splittie. Hey, come on, snoreface. Wake up! Heeheehee, guess what I’ve found?’

  The stoat grumbled as his companion shook him awake. ‘Two frogs and a dandelion. Now beat it, will you? I need sleep.’

  The ferret could not contain his excitement. ‘I found a big stream, a camp, a fire and food – and those two mice and the mole!’

  Splitnose came awake. ‘Where?’

  ‘Not far. Over that way a bit. Listen, if we’re quick and quiet we can take them prisoner.’

  The stoat leapt up. ‘Great. You say they’ve got food and a fire?’

  ‘Yes, half a roast fish, packs too, full of goodies,’ Blacktooth told him. ‘You know those woodlanders – they love their rations.’

  ‘We could march ’em back to Kotir.’

  ‘Heehee. Aye, could you imagine old Cludd’s face when we walk in with three prisoners? The Queen’d prob’ly make us Generals. Oho, I’d give that Cludd a few dirty jobs to do. I’d make him jump!’

  ‘Right, Blackie mate, lead me to ’em.’

  They sneaked silently across to the river bank armed with their spears.

  The three friends lay asleep around the fire, unaware of the eyes that watched them from the top of the bank.

  Fortunata struck deeper into Mossflower, aware that Tsarmina was watching her from the high chamber window.

  The vixen had cast off her borrowed finery from Kotir, reverting to the frayed old healer’s cloak and bag of herbal remedies. She leaned heavily upon an ash staff. Fortunata was more suited to this type of work; she preferred subterfuge to warfare. Besides, the rewards promised were greater.

  Tsarmina moved from the window to ring her table bell. Cludd entered, saluting with shield and spear.

  ‘Yes Your Majesty.’

  ‘Get somebody to clean this room up, it’s filthy. Drill the troops and keep them on the alert. They’re not here to eat me out of house and home. Oh, get a foraging party together. We must keep something in the larders if we want to outlast the woodlanders.’

  Cludd saluted again. ‘It shall be done, Milady.’

  The wildcat Queen settled back in her chair. Now was the time to play the waiting game.

  Columbine lay behind a screen of bushes, nibbling a green hazelnut. The mousemaid often volunteered to go on watch outside Brockhall, imagining herself to be the first to sight the travellers’ return. That Gonff! He would probably come back singing at the top of his voice,

  ‘I’m back, Columbine.

  Yes, now is the hour

  My good friends and I

  Will be saving Mossflower,’

  or some such cheery air. Columbine lay watching sunmotes dancing through dappled patterns of green leaves, dreaming of her thief.

  Then she sighted the fox.

  It was a vixen, dressed like a journeying healer. The fox cast about, sniffing here, inspecting a scuffed leaf there, obviously searching for somebody or something.

  Columbine slid silently away from her hiding place. Once she was out of the fox’s vision she took to her paws, dashing headlong back to Brockhall.

  Shooing some little ones inside, she shut the door and bolted it. It was lunchtime, Loamhedge mice were serving up hazelnut cloister pudding with willowherb sauce. Columbine made straight for Bella.

  ‘Fox, fox, coming this way!’ she panted.

  Skipper put a restraining paw on her. ‘Whoa there. What fox coming from where?’

  ‘Out in the woods, coming from the northwest, sniffing and probing. It’s a vixen. She’ll find her way here soon unless we stop her.’

  Lady Amber mopped up sauce with a crust. ‘A vixen eh, did you recognize her, Columbine?’

  ‘Oh yes, it’s the one they call Fortunata, though she’s disguised herself up a bit. I recognized her at the ambush.’

  ‘An old raggedy cloak and hood,’ Bella interrupted, ‘together with a bag of herbs and a staff?’

  Columbine nodded.

  ‘The old pilgrim healer disguise. Wearing a bit thin, eh, Mask,’ the badger chuckled drily.

  The otter looked up from his pudding. ‘What are you going to do about her?’

  Lady Amber reached for her quiver. ‘A swift arrow in the right place should save any argument.’

  Skipper pawed his sling. ‘Either that or a sharp rock on her stem.’

  Mask stood up, patting a full stomach. ‘Miz badger, why don’t you let me deal with this? It may help with our escape plans for the prisoners.’

  Bella pushed food toward Columbine. ‘Here, little one, have some lunch. Go on, Mask, tell us the plan.’

  The otter had his back to them, he was selecting disguises. ‘I say, let her come, see what she wants, but don’t let her know who I am. Pretend that I’m a newcomer.’

  When he turned to face the Corim, Mask was indeed a newcomer. He was transformed into the most evil slim grey old fox they had ever seen.

  The Mask slid into Bella’s study to complete his disguise. ‘Find the right tail, rub a little brown dust into my coat and see to the finer bits. Ha, she won’t be able to tell me from her own grandpa when I’m finished.’

  ‘Right. We’ve got you. Don’t try anything funny or we’ll skewer this mole!’

  Martin opened his eyes. The ferret and the stoat were standing over Dinny, their spearpoints at his throat. The warrior mouse was about to jump instinctively for them, but Gonff discouraged him.

  ‘Do as he says, matey. They’ve taken us by surprise.’

  All three lay quite still. Blacknose smirked with satisfaction.

  ‘I’ll keep the mole pinned down, Splittie. Look through that pack over there, and see if you can find some cord.’

  Splitnose scuttled off and rummaged in the pack.

  ‘Even better, mate. Look, a rope,’ he called.

  ‘Give it here and keep your spear on the mole, stick him if he moves. Blacktooth wound the rope round the travellers. Binding them together, he tugged the end to make sure it was tightly secured.

  Picking up his spear, he strutted around them. ‘Ha, you’re our prisoners now. You’ll pay for breaking the laws of Kotir and leading us on a wild-goose chase. Be still!’

  Splitnose was emptying the supply packs out. ‘Heehee. Look, apples, bread, cheese, mmfff. Pie!’

  Blacktooth threw extra fuel on the fire and crammed food wolfishly into his mouth, while menacing them with his spear.

  ‘Hey, this is more like it, Splittie,’ he enthused. ‘Come and get warm by the fire.’

  Gonff winked at Martin and whispered, ‘Leave it to me, matey. I’ll settle these two idiots.’

  Blacktooth yanked sharply on the rope’s end. ‘No talking there. One more peep out of you and you’ll be sorry, d’you hear me?’

  Gonff shrugged as best as he could. ‘Don’t worry, Captain. You’ve got us, all right. But please don’t eat all our supplies, we’ll have nothing left to keep alive on.’

  Splitnose threw an apple core at Gonff and bit into a cheese. ‘Ah, stop moaning, mouse. Look at us, we’ve lived on one skinny crust and grass for the last few days. Mmmm, this is good cheese. Hey, a fruitcake! By the claw, that’ll do for me.’

  ‘Come on greedyguts, half for me.’ Blacktooth prodded Splitnose with his spear.

  ‘Get your own, fatbelly,’ Splitnose retorted.

  ‘Why, you gluttonous worm!’

  ‘Ouch! You keep that spearpoint away from me, rottengums.’

  ‘That’s the stuff, matey,’ Gonff called out encouragingly. ‘You show him that stoats are the bosses.’

  Blacktooth was about to stab Gonff with his spear when Splitnose jabbed him in the bottom with his spear-point.

  Martin took Blacktooth’
s side. ‘Don’t let him do that to you, ferret. Get him.’

  Dinny supported Splitnose. “Ee be nowt but a gurt bully. Jump on furret’s tunnel, skoat.’

  Blacktooth cracked Splitnose across the head with his spearshaft. Splitnose retaliated by stabbing Blacktooth in the paw.

  The three friends egged them on with loud shouts.

  ‘You’ve got him now. Stab!’

  ‘That’s it. Keep him pinned down!’

  ‘Get his throat with your teeth!’

  ‘Shove him in the fire, quick!’

  Filled with blind rage, the stoat and ferret battled all over the camp site, rolling through the fire, splashing in the shallows, stumbling against the captives, oblivious of all except the desire to slay.

  ‘Grr, take that, stoatswine!’

  ‘Aarghh, you won’t push me around any more, ferret-face. Get this!’

  Blacktooth fell, pierced by his opponent’s spear. Splitnose backed off, dropping his spear, and stumbling further into the shallows. Blacktooth pulled himself upright and staggered toward his foe, spear held outright. Splitnose blundered into deeper water, unarmed, holding his paws out pleadingly.

  ‘Blackie, no. I didn’t mean it!’

  The ferret tottered unsteadily into the water, lifted the spear to throw and fell dead into the shallows.

  Splitnose kept backing off as if in a daze. ‘I didn’t mean to, Blackie. Honest. You can have half the c—’

  Suddenly he was gone! All that remained was Blacktooth the ferret, face down in the shallows of the swirling stream.

  The three friends had fallen over. They lay, bound, gazing at the water where Splitnose had been a moment before.

  ‘Pitholes, matey, full of bottom mud,’ Gonff explained. ‘We’ll have to remember that when we cross.’

  Dinny wriggled. ‘Us’ll ’ave to set about thinken ’ow to free usselfs.’

  Martin wrenched round to face Gonff. ‘Any ideas?’