forget it. You can call my home your own, for you and your mice, as long as
you like, and please don't thank me—you'd do exactly the same if I needed
shelter. In feet you did, many years ago, when I was young and liked to
travel.''
The two old friends went to the kitchen and began preparing the meal. Bella
told Germaine of all that had taken place in Mossflower. "This is a sad and
oppressed place you have come to, though once it was happy under the rule of
my father, Boar the Fighter. I was still young then. I returned from my
wanderings with Barkstripe—he was my mate; we met far to the southeast and
returned to stay with my father at Brockhall. I think that rather was waiting
for this to happen. My mother was long ago gone to the gates of Dark Forest;
she died when I was a cub. Boar the Fighter was a good lather, but a restless
spirit. He had tired of ruling Moss-flower and wanted to go questing, just as
his father, Old Lord Brocktree, did before him. One day he left here and
Bark-stripe ruled in his stead. Those were good seasons. We had a cub, a
little male called Sunflash because of his forestripe, which had an odd golden
tinge. He was a sturdy little fellow.
52
"In the autumn of that year the wildcats arrived. Verdauga and his brood took
over that old ruin of a fortress. There was no one to oppose him, and he
brought with him a vast horde of wicked vermin. At first we tried to fight
back, but they were so cruel and merciless that they completely crushed us.
Barkstripe led a great attack upon Kotir, but he was slain, along with many
others. Those who did not escape into Mossflower were caught and left to rot
in Verdauga's prisons. Alas, that was all long ago. We have learned to keep
ourselves safe here in the thick woodlands now."
Germaine drew loaves from the oven on a long paddle. "Where is your son,
Sunflash? He must be quite big now."
Bella paused as she laid the bread to cool. "While I was ill and grieving for
Barkstripe, our son stole out of here one night. They say he went to Kotir to
avenge his father's death, but he was far too young. Sunflash has never been
seen or heard of since. Many, many seasons have gone by since then, 90 I think
that one way or another my son ended up at the gates of Dark Forest with his
father."
Outside in Mossflower the afternoon shadows began to lengthen over the trees
that were budding and leafing, promising a thick emerald foliage for the
summer. In another part of Mossflower not far from Kotir, a mailed tunic and
tabard bearing the Thousand Eye device slipped carelessly from a high spruce
branch and landed in a crumpled heap on the forest floor. Argulor shifted from
claw to claw as he preened his pinions, carefully arranging his long wing
feathers. A good fat stoat would be extremely welcome, but pine marten ... ah,
that was a delight he had yet to savor. Argulor would wait. His time would
come; a marten with a wooden leg could only run so fast in any direction. The
eagle snuggled down into his plumage, glad that the spring nights were kind to
young and old alike. It was good to visit old hunting grounds again.
53
The evening chorus of birdsong fell sweetly upon Martin's ears as he strolled
along through the woodlands with Skipper and Gonff, reveling in his new-found
freedom after the long winter in Kotir prison. The otters were never still;
they were playful as puppies, bounding and cavorting through the trees and
bushes. Skipper was instructing Martin in the art of the slingshot. He was
delighted to have such a keen pupil and took every opportunity of amazing the
warrior mouse with his expertise. Casting a pebble high into the air, Skipper
re-slung a second pebble and shot it, hitting the first one before it had time
to fall to earth. The otter shrugged modestly. "It's only tricks, me hearty. I
can teach you them anytime. Ha, I'll bet afore the summer's through you'll be
able to sling a pebble across any villain's bows."
Gonff was great friends with the otters. He wholeheartedly shared their
recklessness and sense of madcap fun. The little thief imitated their nautical
mode of speech perfectly, telling Martin that he was, "As likely a cove as
ever pirated vittles from Kotir's galley."
Martin enjoyed himself. Having been a solitary warrior for so long, he found
it a pleasant change to be in the company of such gregarious friends. Skipper
presented him with his own personal sling and pouch of throwing pebbles. He
accepted the gift gratefully. The otters were naturally curious about the
broken sword hilt Martin kept strung about his
54
neck, so he told them the story, and was taken aback by their hatred of
Tsarmina. Though, as Skipper remarked, "Wildcats never bothered us. Once our
crew is together, there ain't nothin' on land or afloat that'll trouble
otterfblk."
Looking about, Martin could quite believe it. Gonff danced on ahead with two
otters who did a hornpipe as he sang.
I'm a mouse with a very long tail,
With a heart and voice to match,
I've escaped from the pussycats gaol.
They'll find me hard to catch.
So, away, through the grass, the flow'rs and leaves,
Like smoke on the breeze, the Prince of Thieves.
Let's cheer for the day when we will see
The Mossflower country safe and free.
Martin was tapping the happy tune from paw to paw when be saw that Skipper had
dropped back a few paces. The otter was standing with an air of intense
concentration, swaying from side to side, sniffing the breeze. At a sign from
him, Gonff stopped singing and the entire crew grew silent.
Skipper said in a gruff whisper, "Some beast's a-comin', mates. Not from
astern, mind. Over yonder there. Birds stopped singin' over that way first.
Ha, I'll wager it's the cat." Skipper pointed. They could soon make out shapes
moving from tree to tree. As the intruders drew nearer, it was plain to see
they were Kotir soldiers in full armor, led by Tsarmina, a barbaric figure
wearing a splendid cloak and a helmet that covered her head completely except
for slitted eye, ear and mouth apertures.
At Skipper's growl of command, the otter crew spread themselves out in
fighting formation, faces grim, weapons at the ready. Skipper stood fearlessly
out in the open where l&armina could see him, paws folded across his chest, a
sling hanging from the right one, loaded and ready. Tsarmina halted a short
distance away. She stretched out a paw, letting a wickedly sharp claw spring
dramatically forth to point at Martin and/Gonff.
"The mice are mine, otter. I will take them from you."
Skipper's voice was hard as flint. "Back off, cat. You're pn my quarterdeck
now. This is Mossflower, not Kotir."
55
"All the land belongs to me," Tsarmina said imperiously. "I am Tsarmina, Queen
of Kotir and Mossflower. These mice are escaped prisoners. Give them to me
now, and I will not punish you. Yonr creatures will be allowed to go
unharmed/'
A thin smile played about Skipper's mouth. "Go and chase your mangy tail,
pussycat!"
The breath hissed from between Tsarmina's teeth at the otter's fearless
impudence. She raised a paw to her soldiers, who began fitting arrows to
bowstrings. As they did, some sixth sense tingled through the wildcat and she
looked up. Lady Amber stood in a tall elm, in her paw a light javelin poised
for throwing. Reacting instinctively, Tsarmina grabbed the nearest soldier to