and weighted with stones—that would teach them manners. There were one or two
squirrels that could do with jumping lessons from the battlemented roof of
Kotir. As for the rest, well, there were always plenty of good hard work and
cells.
Tsarmina sprang down the stairways and the dripping passages of her fortress,
heading for the cells, where sunlight seldom penetrated. Two stoat guards
tried hastily to come to attention as their Queen hurtled past, but they were
knocked spinning sideways.
Picking himself up from a pool of slimy water, one of the stoats rubbed his
head where it had banged against the walls.
"By the fang! What d'you suppose is wrong with her, this time?"
His companion felt gingerly at the sore beginnings of a lump on his snout.
"Huh, your guess is as good as mine. One thing I do know, she's not down here
for the good of our health. We'd better get straightened up before she comes
back this way."
Tsarmina ran from cell to cell, peering through the bars at the hostile
interiors as she muttered aloud, "Yes, good, this is ideal. They'll soon learn
obedience down here. Males in one cell, females in another and young ones in a
special prison all of their own, where they can be heard but not seen by their
parents. Haha, I must remember that: heard but not seen. Well, what have we
here, all alone in the darkness?" > Gingivere was fading into a gaunt
skeleton. The once glossy coat was ragged and graying, his whole body had an
air of neglect and decay about it, except the eyes. They fixed Tsarmina with
such a burning intensity that she was forced to look away.
"Well, well, my one-time brother, I thought perhaps that you had perished by
now in this unhealthy atmosphere, dark, cold, damp, with little to eat. But
cheer up, I'll find you an even darker and deeper prison when you move out to
make room for the new lodgers I'm planning. How would that suit you?"
90
Gingivere stood clasping the cell bars. He stared at his sister.
Tsarmina shifted nervously. Her previous mood of euphoria rapidly
disintegrating, she became irritable.
"Never fear, my silent, staring brother. I can soon fix up other arrangements
for you. A sword, perhaps. Or a spear during the night to deepen your sleep."
Gingivere's eyes burned into Tsarmina, and his voice was like a knell.
"Murderer!"
Tsarmina broke and ran, pursued by the voice of her brother like a spear at
her back.
"Murderer! You killed our father! Murderer! Murderer!"
When the sounds of Tsarmina's flight had died away, Gingivere let go of the
bars and slumped to the floor, hot tears pouring from his fevered eyes.
After their trek through Mossflower to find Chibb, the little party were ready
for food. Now that all the woodlanders were billeted at Brockhall, mealtimes
were like a constant feast, so many different dishes were contributed. A
pretty posy lay in the middle of the festive board symbolizing the coming
together in springtime to oppose the reign of Kotir.
Gonff was conscious of Columbine watching him. Bella had given the little
mousethief permission to sing grace, and he stood up boldly and sang aloud,
>i
Squirrels, otters, hedgehogs, mice, '• Moles with
fur like sable,
Gathered in good spirits all,
Round this festive table.
Sit we down to eat and drink.
Friends, before we do, let's think.
Fruit.of forest, field and banks,
To the springtime we give thanks.
; The woodlanders began passing food. As Gonff sat down, s he winked at
Columbine, showing no sign of modesty. '"<•'- "Good, eh? That's an ancient
chant that has been sung Jr through the ages. I composed it a moment ago for
today." V Gonff was so pleased with himself that Columbine could **«* help
laughing with him at his outrageous statement.
91
Martin had sat at many tables—farm tables, inn tables, and, more often than
not, any handy flat piece of rock where he could lay his food. Now he sat back
and surveyed the board before him with wonder. Bulrush and water-shrimp soup
provided by the otters; a large flagon of Skipper's famous hot root punch;
hazel nut truffle; blackberry apple crumble; baked sweet chestnuts; honeyed
toffee pears; and maple tree cordial, a joint effort by hedgehogs and
squirrels. The Loamhedge and Mossflower mice had combined to provide a number
of currant and berry pies, seedcake and potato scones, and a cask of October
ale. By far the biggest single offering was a colossal turnip 'n' later 'n'
beetroot 'n' bean deeper 'n' ever pie with tomato chutney baked by the
Fore-mole and his team.
Normally a solid trenchermouse, Martin would have stuck to deeper 'n* ever
pie, but Gonff encouraged him and Columbine to sample some of everything.
"Here, matey, how's that for October ale? Columbine, try some of this hot root
punch. How d'you like seedcake? Try some of this, both of you. Come on, have a
wedge.
"Hey, Martin, d'you reckon you'd get the better of one of these toffee pears?
Come on, get stuck in, stuck in, hahaha.
"Put that hot root punch down, Columbine. You look as if your face is on fire.
Try some of the maple tree cordial."
Ferdy and Coggs sat nearby, hero-worshipping Martin and Gonff.
"Tell you what, Coggs. If ever I come across a broken sword I'm going to hang
it round my neck, just like Martin the Warrior."
"Huh, fancy trying to keep old Gonff locked up in Kotir! I'll bet he could
come and go with both paws tied. You know, I think I look a bit like Gonff."
"Of course you do. I look like Martin—pretty quiet and very brave—or I will be
when I'm older. Just wait and see."
"Come on, matey. We've eaten enough. Let's go off together and invade Kotir
before we get sent to bed. We can slip away quietlike."
In the hubbub and confusion of the feast, nobody noticed the two baby
hedgehogs take their leave.
92
A crescent moon hung over the warm spring night, casting its cloak over the
light early foliage of Mossflower Woods. Indifferent to the woodland floor
carpeted with dark green grass, dotted with bluebell and narcissus, Fortunate
stopped in her tracks and held up a paw for silence. Immediately she was
bumped by Brogg and Scratt, two weasels who did not stop fast enough. Ferrets
and weasels in their turn blundered sleepily into each other.
Fortunata bared her teeth impatiently. "Stand still, can't you. I think I hear
something."
The patrol held its collective breath and listened intently. | Scratt dropped
his shield with a clang. They all jumped with '• fright. Fortunata cursed at
the hapless weasel, but he was tired and weary of listening to pointless
orders.
*'Ahh, what's the difference, fox? We're on a right fool's
errand in this jungle, I can tell you. Huh, tramping about all
day in full kit and armor, without anything to eat, and not a
sight or sound of a living thing, except the sign of our own
pawtracks that we keep coming across. What are we sup-
1 posed to be doing out here, anyhow? That's what I'd like to
: know."
' There were murmurs of agreement. Fortunata cut in quickly to stem any ideas
of mutiny. ' 'All of you, get the soil out of your ears and listen to me. Can
you imagine what will happen if we march back to Kotir empty-pawed? Well, can
93
you? By the claw, it doesn't bear thinking about. Imagine the Queen—d'you
think she'll say: 'Oh, you poor creatures. Didn't you find any of those