Mossflower (Redwall) Page 7

  Spring told them what had happened.

  ‘When I got hit I didn’t swim away for fear of leavin’ a blood trail in the water, so I swam a little ways then laid under a bush hangin’ over the bank. I slapped a good pawful o’ mud on my wound to stop the bleedin’ and lay waiting. I knew Skip wouldn’t leave me long afore he sent help. I was that close to some of those vermin sittin’ on the bank that I could have reached out and laid a flipper on ’em. They were all talkin’ about somethin’ called a Gloomer – said that the cat had sent messengers to Kotir to fetch this Gloomer thing.’

  Skipper patted Spring. ‘Well done, matey. You get some sleep now, and don’t fret your ’ead about nothin’. Old Skip’ll take care of it.’

  Root struck his thigh with a heavy paw. ‘Ha! The Gloomer – I might’ve knowed it, Skip. What’ll we do now?’

  The fire burned low in the Stickle dwelling as Goody tidied around before going to join Ben outside. It was a peaceful spring night. Ben knocked his pipe out on the gatepost. ‘Should be a fair day on the morrow, old girl.’

  They both stood nodding. Suddenly Goody threw up her paws. ‘Well, in the name of Stickles, will you just look at those two liddle ’ogs a layin’ there.’

  Ferdy and Coggs had really taken their sentry duty to heart. They had rigged up a tent from a blanket and branches. Nearby lay a jug of strawberry cordial and a half-finished apple pie which they had requisitioned from Goody’s cupboard. The two little hedgehogs lay with their arms about each other, snoring uproariously, cooking pot helmets askew, mouths wide open.

  Ben chuckled fondly. ‘I do believe we’ll sleep sounder in our beds, Goody, knowin’ we’ve got these two terrors to guard us through the night.’

  As Goody folded the blanket away, Ben carried Ferdy and Coggs inside.

  Still asleep, Ferdy waved his stick. ‘Who goes there? I’ll fight the six of you!’

  11

  AT KOTIR, FORTUNATA was also sleeping peacefully, until the banging of spearbutts against her chamber door brought her yawning and shuffling from her bed.

  ‘Who’s there? Go away and see Ashleg about it, whatever it is.’

  Brogg and Scratt stood aside as Cludd, the weasel Captain of the guard, kicked the door open. ‘Come on, fox. You’re wanted by Queen Tsarmina. She’s camped by the River Moss.’

  Fortunata rubbed her injured rump. ‘Couldn’t Ashleg go? I’m injured.’

  Cludd’s stolid face was expressionless. ‘No, the Queen wants you there by dawn. You’re to bring the Gloomer with you. Brogg and Scratt’ll lend a paw.’

  Fortunata recoiled with fright and distaste. ‘The Gloomer! I thought that horror had died years ago or gone away.’ Cludd pointed his spear at the vixen. ‘Come on now, no nonsense. You know what Milady’s like if you disobey her orders. We’ll make sure Gloomer’s well secured.’

  Fortunata had no choice. In a foul temper, she followed the three soldiers down corridors and flights of stairs to the very bowels of the fortress.

  Far beneath the cells there was an underground cavern and a great lake. The only one who ever went down to the lake was the guard who was detailed to feed the Gloomer. Once a week he would take down the refuse from the barracks, leaving it a respectable distance from the post to which Gloomer’s long chain was attached at the lake’s edge.

  Verdauga had captured Gloomer and brought him to Kotir long ago. The monster water rat was robbed of normal sight after years of swimming in the dark murky waters of the lake. It had little hearing and no speech at all. None of this mattered while it still possessed the instincts of touch and smell; the Gloomer was a killer, savage and mindless, particularly when there was fresh meat to be had.

  Fortunata was frightened; this was no place to be in the night hours. Gingerly she picked up the chain. The rattling iron links echoed eerily around the cold musty cavern, and what little courage the fox had failed her. She dropped the chain, looking imploringly toward Cludd. ‘I’m only a vixen. This will take a creature strong and brave as a Captain of the Guard.’

  The obvious slyness of the remark did not escape Cludd, yet he swelled slightly at the flattery. Taking the chain firmly, he nodded at the others. ‘Right. Stay out of the way and leave this to me. I know how to deal with Gloomer.’

  Tugging hard on the rusty chain, Cludd splashed it up and down in the water as he pulled. The underground lake rippled. There was an audible gasp of shock from the three onlookers as the Gloomer’s monstrous head appeared from the depths like the worst kind of vision from a bad dream. The eyes were staring, sightless white marbles veined with blood-red streaks, the snout ribbed and scarred like a wet black patch of leather. What little fur there was on the head was plastered flat. Water ran off it as the mouth opened wide.

  Even Cludd felt his paws shaking as the Gloomer swam toward land. The sightless eyes were fixed upon the weasel Captain as if they could actually see him. The mouth worked hungrily open and shut, purple blubbery lips drawn back to reveal curving greeny-yellow fangs spread this way and that, the very oddness of them adding to their revolting appearance.

  Cludd dropped the chain and picked up his spear, his voice shaking noticeably. ‘Here, Brogg, Scratt, grab your spears and do as I do. Keep driving that thing in a circle around the post.’

  Gloomer paused for a moment in the shallows, water dripping from its ugly bulk, the hideous head moving to and fro as it scented the soldiers and pinpointed them by their sound and movement. Then in a sudden rush Gloomer charged with an awesome turn of speed.

  The trio were highly nervous but ready. Dodging and prodding Gloomer with spearpoints, they kept the monster pursuing them clockwise around the post, Cludd bawling instructions as he ran.

  ‘Don’t stop, whatever you do. Keep it moving!’

  Fortunata was impressed; the plan was simple but effective.

  The trio skipped, jumped and ran as Gloomer pursued them mindlessly. It was not until the entire chain had been wound around the post that Gloomer was forced to stop. The post shook with the beast’s maddened efforts to push forward. Brogg and Scratt kept their spearpoints at its back, so it could not unwind the chain by going in the reverse direction. Cludd leaned his weight against the chain to keep it tight, and called to Fortunata, ‘Get the leads attached to the collar, quickly!’

  With icy fear coursing through her veins and an expression of extreme distaste on her face, Fortunata obeyed. Cludd strained at the chain, watching Fortunata impatiently. ‘Stop dabbing and primping, fox. Get those leads fastened, or I’ll loose this chain.’

  Fortunata secured the last of the three heavy greased leather halters around the short, powerful neck, which already bore a studded iron collar. Detaching the chain, she jumped backwards and made for the stairs. ‘There. It’s done! I know which way to go. You three get hold of the leads and follow me.’

  Cludd called out sternly, ‘Get back here, lily liver, I’m not going anywhere, Captain of the Guard’s my job. If the Queen had wanted me, she would have said. Come on, take one of these leads.’

  Immediately Fortunata picked up the lead, Gloomer moved towards her. She hurried swiftly ahead to keep Gloomer from her. Brogg and Scratt stood either side and slightly back, pulling their leads tight, straining to control Gloomer. Cludd watched them go, glad he had completed his distasteful task.

  Fortunata led the way. Having lived in Mossflower all her life, she was familiar with the area. She increased her pace to keep the maximum distance between herself and the huge grey–black beast. Gloomer snuffled and tugged, this way and that; Brogg and Scratt strained on the leads to keep it going the right way. The moon over the woodlands shone through the trees on the reluctant trio and their monstrous charge as they blundered and crashed through Mossflower, disturbing the peaceful night, tainting it with evil.

  12

  MARTIN WAS AWAKE before dawn. He fed the fire and sat by it. Skipper came and sat with him. ‘Now then, messmate. You’ve got a face on you like a wet water-beetle’s grandad. Why so worried?�
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  Martin smiled half-heartedly. ‘Oh, it’s listening to those stories that the crew were telling about the Gloomer, I suppose. It’s all my fault for coming here and causing trouble for you, Skipper.’

  The big otter gave Martin a hearty clap on the back that nearly sent him head over tail. ‘Ha harr. Bless your little ’eart, me old warrior. You don’t want to listen to that scuttlebutt. Was that all you was afeared of? You come with me and I’ll introduce you to our Stormfin.’

  ‘Stormfin?’

  ‘Aye, Stormfin, matey. Come ’ere to the back of the cave.’

  In the darkness of the cavern recess, Skipper showed Martin a sluicegate which blocked the canal across its middle. There were narrow spaces in the gate, allowing the water to flow through. At one side was a hollow log.

  Skipper picked up a cudgel and passed it to Martin. ‘Listen, mate, that big pussycat may ’ave a Gloomer, but us otters got a Stormfin. You start thumpin’ that there log and I’ll raise the sluicegate. Stay clear of the water’s edge, though.’

  Mystified, Martin began banging the log. The eerie sounds bounced off the cavern walls as Skipper raised the gate clear of the water.

  The otter nodded sagely. ‘That’ll warn anyone who’s in the water to get out, Stormfin’s comin’. Watch the canal, now, and don’t forget to stay clear.’

  Far back in the darkness something was beginning to come forward. A smooth wave rose; it slopped over the sides as the water was pushed along by some tremendous force. Martin was about to question Skipper when the otter lowered the gate slightly, and the water began roiling and bubbling. A long shape, like a section of tree trunk, smooth, with a many-spiked dorsal fin emerged.

  Martin gasped and jumped back. ‘That’s Stormfin?’

  ‘Aye, this is Stormfin, matey. Me and my brother trapped him long ago.’ Skipper leaned forward and patted the giant pike’s fin, causing it to lash its tail. The water boiled into a white foam as the otter leapt back laughing.

  ‘Hohoho! Take a look, Martin. You wouldn’t like to cross that cove’s path if you was out a swimmin’, now would you?’

  Martin leaned forward. He saw the powerful bony head with its muddy eyes and long hooking underjaw. The mouth opened slightly. He had never seen so many teeth in one mouth; there were row upon row of jagged backward curving rippers, needle-sharp and milky white. Stormfin seemed to be smiling in anticipation. With a flick of his mighty silver- and black-banded bulk he butted his head against the lowered sluicegate, anxious to be freed into open water.

  Skipper stood with both paws on the gate lever. ‘Right then, you old buccaneer. Don’t eat him too quick, now; you’ll make yourself sick.’

  Martin helped Skipper to weigh down upon the lever. The sluicegate lifted. Stormfin rushed through, creating a miniature tidal wave as he travelled. Skipper left the gate open.

  ‘He’ll be back in a few days. We coax him in with tidbits. Pity there ain’t more’n one Gloomer. That pike has a terrible appetite.’

  Panting and rasping, the Gloomer dragged on the leads. The trio looked toward Tsarmina as they dug their paws into the turf and were dragged helplessly toward the River Moss.

  Fortunata began to panic. ‘Milady, quick, give the word, or it will have us in the water!’

  Tsarmina extended her paws and raised them as if starting a race. ‘Right, you three, when I let my paws drop th—’

  Too late. Gloomer snapped the lead Fortunata was holding and the two guards were pulled over on their faces. Immediately they let their leads go, Gloomer sploshed noisily into the water.

  The monster water rat swam about in slow circles, scenting and feeling vibrations in the river current. Without warning it dived, heading in the direction of Camp Willow.

  The soldiers of Kotir ran alongside the bank, following Gloomer’s progress and shouting excitedly.

  ‘Look, he’s after something. Hey, Gloomer, eat an otter for me!’

  ‘Don’t eat ’em, kill ’em all, Gloomer! Rip them to bits!’

  A ferret who had run ahead of the rest called back to his comrades, ‘Something’s coming! I think it’s the otters. No, wait, it’s a big fish of some sort.’

  Swift chevrons of water rippled out to both sides of the bank as Stormfin sped downstream like a great arrow.

  Gloomer thrashed the water as he swam upstream, feeling his prey getting near.

  Closer and closer the leviathans came to each other. Gloomer lifted his snout clear of the water, sucking in a huge gasp of air. He submerged again and waited, facing the oncoming foe, mouth slightly agape, claws at the ready.

  Stormfin looked as if he was smiling. The underslung jaw clamped shut, pointing at his adversary like a battering ram, he piled on extra speed, drew his fins in tight and came at Gloomer like an arrow from a bow. The onlookers on the bank saw a spout of water shoot high like a geyser as the combatants crashed together.

  Gloomer had the breath driven from him as Stormfin struck his ribs. Disregarding the pain, the rat sought the pike with his teeth, feeling his heavy claws rake searingly through its scales.

  With the madness of battle upon him, Stormfin rose clear of the river, swishing his tail in a mighty leap, twisting in midair he launched himself back into the water like a downward torpedo with gaping teeth. Gloomer was waiting. He pushed his head clear of the river, sucked in a quick breath and locked jaws with the descending pike. The surface boiled in a welter of cascading water, shimmering scales and ragged fur, the whole scene streaked with blood.

  They snapped and bit at each other, locking jaws, rolling over and over, now letting go, now seeking another hold, contorting madly. Gloomer had the pike by the tail. He chewed voraciously. Pain seared through the big fish, but Stormfin had his enemy by the stomach, and ripped viciously.

  Tsarmina dashed up and down the bank with a spear at the ready. She could not throw it for fear of hitting her destroyer. Mud boiled up from the bottom to mix with the flotsam of combat. Silver scales and grey black fur became indistinguishable in the melee.

  Now Gloomer had latched his claws into Stormfin’s side and bitten deep into the pike’s dorsal fin. Stormfin thwacked away at Gloomer’s injured side with his heavy tail like a stout paddle. He had severed Gloomer’s tail and was tearing ferociously at the rat’s hindquarters.

  The need for breath forced Gloomer to relinquish his hold momentarily, and Stormfin slid off like a wraith, following the current. Gloomer surfaced and gulped in several grateful breaths.

  Dementedly Tsarmina shouted from the bank, ‘Gloomer’s won! Where’s the pike? Is it dead?’

  Fortunata was caught up in the excitement. ‘It must be, Milady. Nothing could stand against the Gloomer for long.’

  The soldiers raised a ragged cheer. It was immediately stifled as Stormfin came back to the attack!

  Driving low, hard and fast, the big pike crashed into Gloomer with staggering force, catching him unawares. The huge rat had the breath smashed from his lungs as he was battered swiftly up against the far bank. Falling back into the water, he swallowed liquid instead of air. Still lashing out with tooth and claw, Gloomer was unconsciously inflicting injuries on the pike, but the damage was done.

  Stormfin knew every inch of his river. He slid into a deep pit beneath the bank and attacked the rat’s soft underbelly with the mad power of one who feels victory in sight. Gloomer scratched blindly at the rock either side of the underwater hole, missing his adversary’s head completely. Baffled, he tried to turn away.

  Stormfin’s jaws clamped tight on Gloomer’s back legs. The monster pike backed water as he dragged the rat backward down the pit with him. The watchers on the bank saw Gloomer’s front claws emerge wildly from the water, grasping at thin air before they vanished beneath the surface.

  The destroyer from Kotir was beaten. Stormfin had finally won!

  Tsarmina shot several arrows into the area where the pike had pulled her rat down. The soldiers stood about on the bank, shuffling awkwardly and fidgeting. A sense of fore
boding hung over them after the defeat of Gloomer. Fortunata tried to stroll casually out of sight, knowing the wildcat Queen would be looking for a scapegoat to vent her wrath upon.

  ‘Get back here, fox. Don’t try to slink away.’ Holding out her paw, the wildcat Queen snapped at a stoat close by, ‘Give me your spear.’

  Keeping her eyes fixed on the quaking vixen, Tsarmina accepted the spear. She swung it round until the point was at Fortunata’s throat. ‘So, nothing could stand against the Gloomer, eh, fox?’

  The terrified fox could think of nothing to say. She merely gulped.

  Tsarmina swung the spear away and dipped it into the river. She fished about for a moment then whipped the point out of the water. Looped over the spearpoint was the collar once worn by the Gloomer. Tsarmina hurled the weapon. It whizzed past Fortunata and buried itself in an ash trunk, quivering with bright droplets of water shaking from it.

  From somewhere along the river came the deep, barking laugh of an otter.

  The wildcat’s cloak swirled about her as she tore the spear from the tree and ran to the water’s edge brandishing it.

  ‘Laugh, yes laugh all you like, but stay hidden while you value your miserable lives. I am Tsarmina, Queen of the Thousand Eyes. Before I am finished with Mossflower, every creature who defies me will wish that its mother had never given birth to it. The crying and the dying will be loud and long. Now let me hear you laugh at that!’

  As Tsarmina finished her speech, Fortunata leaped forward. The vixen was thinking of ingratiating herself with her Queen by adding a few words to the speech.

  ‘Thus speaks the mighty Tsarmina, ruler of all Mossfl—’

  As Brogg turned from the river’s edge he collided with the leaping fox. Their heads clashed painfully. The weasel staggered back a step and trod on the hem of the vixen’s cloak. They tripped, landing ungraciously in the mud of the shallows.