Mossflower

BOOK THREE

Of Water and Warriors

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Deep beneath Kotir the water level had risen gradually. Now it was above the

rock sections removed by the moles.

Hour by hour it had risen fractionally. To the casual ear the trickling had

stopped, but it was still adding silently to the volume, as it seeped in from

below the surface of the gradually rising lake.

Standing at her high window, Tsarrnina breathed deeply, filling her lungs with

the soothing summer breeze that blew in from Mossflower Woods.

At last the accursed dripping had stopped!

She felt light-headedly happy. Dark, fearful night had given way to this

beautiful calm sunlit morning, taking with it the haunting sounds of the

water.

Brogg was right, she thought, even though he was only an oafish weasel. There

was a certain sense to his logic. Imagination was a strange thing, which

played odd tricks upon an overwrought mind.

Now a new resolution was forming in Tsarmina's devious brain, one she

considered worthy of her talents.

Mossflower must be conquered!

The eagle was gone; Bane too. And her forces were stronger now with the

addition of his one-time mercenaries.

Tsarmina allowed herself an audible snigger. That Bane! He had even taken the

trouble to restore and repair all the

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Kotir woodwork, in anticipation of taking over from her, the Queen of

Mossflower. Stupid fox!

Furnishing herself with a bowl of milk and a roasted woodpi-geon, she mentally

thanked Bane for his supplies, adding another point to her favor. She sat down

to breakfast and some earnest thought as to the final solution of the

woodlanders.

Tsarmina rang the bell to summon Brogg.

"Your Majesty?"

"Ah, Brogg. Put aside that sword and sit over here at my table."

4Thankyou, Milady."

"This morning I was thinking of appointing some new Captains. However, I have

since changed my mind, Brogg. You will remain as the one and only officer,

giving out my orders, of course."

Brogg sat to attention, his chest puffed out proudly. "Oh, thank you, Milady,

thank you. I'll make you proud of me. You won't regret this. Wait and see,

I'll—"

Tsarmina silenced the babbling Captain with a wave of the woodpigeon carcass.

"Enough chattering, Brogg. Let me tell you what you must do to earn this great

honor."

"I am yours to command, my Queen."

*'Good. I want traps, lots of traps. Snares, nets, pits— anything we can think

up."

"Traps, Milady?"

"Yes, traps, you great buffoon. I want traps laid all over that forest out

there."

Brogg grinned as recognition dawned. "We'll capture some woodland prisoners."

"Capture, kill, maim—I don't care, as long as it makes those creatures afraid

to set paw outside their hiding place, wherever they may be. I'll turn the

tables on them, and they'll never pen us in again. Give them a good long

summer of my scheme, and they'll be only too willing to accept my terms— those

who are left after the traps begin their work."

"Right, Milady. I'll start today. How about some covered pits with sharpened

stakes at the bottom?"

"Excellent, Brogg. At last you're talking my language. Also, we could arrange

some thin strangling nooses concealed in the deep loam."

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"Great idea, Milady. How about some big nets and trip ropes?"

"Splendid. Make sure you have lots of poisoned hooks tied in the net meshes.

Oh, and don't forget the old bent sapling trick with the hidden noose. You can

always bank on some lumbering badger or hopping squirrel to step into it, eh,

Brogg."

"Yes, Milady. Imagine all those woodlanders dangling upside down by their back

paws. Huhuhu!"

"Hmm, just like apples waiting to be picked."

"Oh, huhuhu. We might just leave them to ripen until autumn before we pick

'em, Milady."

"Heehee. Very good Brogg. I never imagined you had such a sense of humor.''

"Oh, I have my moments, Milady."

"Well, make sure your moments are all victorious ones from now on, my one and

only Captain."

Brogg saluted awkwardly, knocking the chair over as he rose. "Yes, Majesty.

I'll get right down to h this very morning."

Tsarmina caught the end of his cloak, pulling him back. "There you go, rushing

and dashing about like a sparrow after a fly. Priorities, Brogg. If you must

do a job, do it properly. Take your time. Gather the right equipment together,

organize the troops into squads, give each one a team leader and offer rewards

for the most ingenious traps and the best results. Do you see the idea?"

Brogg's face brightened at the power he was about to wield. "You're right,

Milady. I'll spend all today organizing, then we can make a start first thing

tomorrow.''

He departed, leaving Tsarmina back at her high window, still clutching the

woodpigeon. She destroyed the carcass by crushing it with a single blow and

hurled it out of the window toward the forest.

"Here, have something to eat, woodlanders," she shrieked. "You'll need it by

the time autumn comes. I'll keep you penned up in your holes. We'll see who

runs out of supplies first."

Abbess Germaine and Columbine were taking the little ones to stay with

Gingivere and Sandingomm. Bella drew a map to direct them. Ferdy and Coggs

were torn between visiting

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their uncle Gingivere and staying behind to become warrior seadogs. Gonff had

a word with them.

"Listen, mateys, Martin and I can't be spared to guard the little unst that's

why we thought of sending you two. Imagine how much safer the Abbess and

Columbine will feel, knowing that Ferdy and Coggs are along to protect the

convoy. I've made you a sling each and a pouch of throwing pebbles apiece."

"Honest to goodness real ones, Mr. Gonff?"

"Aye, the same as Martin and I carry."

Ferdy had only one thing to say: "Right, Coggs. Let's line these creatures up.

I'll tell the Abbess and Columbine to lead, we'll protect the rear."

They departed amidst much cheering and paw-waving, both warriors getting their

snouts wiped soundly on the corner of Goody's apron.

The Corim leaders set about the distribution of arms. Log-a-Log and his shrews

were proficient archers; they used the squirrel shoulder bows as standing

longbows, and Lady Amber saw to it they were well supplied. The six hares fell

gladly into Skipper's company. They were well liked by the otters, and proved

to be as efficient with javelins as they were with their own big pikes, which

were greatly admired by the otter crew.

The Loamhedge mice were unused to any sort of weapon, so they joined Goody

Stickle to help in any way possible-healing, repairing, and running the field

kitchen. T. B. and Young Dinny took the moles. They banded together with the

former oar slaves, between them there was an amazing variety of weapons.

Bella strolled over to review them.

"Well, well, who's in charge of this bloodthirsty crew?" she asked, receiving

two salutes.

"Captains Timballisto and Young Dinny of the Mossflower irregulars reporting

for duty, marm."

Young Dinny brandished a dagger, he was decked out in a many-colored fringed

silk sash and brass sea rat earrings.

"Haharr, we'm a roight drefful rabble an' ready furr foighten owt."

Bella returned the salute as she tried to hide a smile.

In the for'ard cabin of Wuddshipp, Martin spoke secretly with five strong,

experienced otters. When he emerged, the

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banks were thronged with a horde waiting upon his word. Every eye was upon him

as he sprang from the side of the vessel and waded ashore through the

shallows. Timballisto had found his old battle armor in the sea rat lockers.

He came forward and buckled it on his friend in silence. Setting the round war

helmet firmly on Martin's head, he strapped the .breastplate on and buckled

the greaves about the warrior's paws. Bella and the hares presented Martin

with a scabbard and swordbelt which matched his sword to perfection.

Martin turned to his army.

"Let us go and settle the score with Kotir!"

Brogg cursed in the half-light before dawn as he tripped upon a coil of rope

lying in the main hallway. The place was a jumble of snaring equipment. The

weasel Captain nibbed a bruised paw and wished he had not been so enthusiastic

on the previous day. Picking up the rope, he hurled it at Chinwart, as the rat

was settling down for a quick nap in the corner.

"Come on, dpzychops. On your paws. I thought you were supposed to be helping

me sort this mess out?"

"What about the others?" the rat yawned. "Why arent they all awake and

helping?"

Brogg paused, letting go of the net he was dragging to the doorway. "Good

idea. Why should I have to do it all myself? Chinwart, go and kick them out of

their billets, say that anyone who isn't ready to parade smartly will be

reported to the Queen."

The threat worked. A few moments later the hall was filled with sleepy

soldiers; but seeing Tsarmina was not about they offered no help. They lounged

about, sitting on the stairs.

Brogg remembered Tsarmina's advice.

"Attention," he called. "First one out on the parade ground carrying a trap

gets double supper this evening. Anybody who lies about will be sentenced to

half bread and water.''

Chinwart grabbed three stakes and scuttled outside. The rest began

half-heartedly picking up nets.

Chinwart came hurtling back inside.

"Cap'n, they're out there!" he said wildly.

"What are you yammering on about now, rat? Who's out there?"

"Woodlanders! Go and see for yourself!"

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Recalling the last woodlander raid, Brogg acted with caution. He poked his

head around the doorway nervously, ready to pull back swiftly in case of

arrows.

The main gates had been flung agape. Standing in the open with the dawn mist

evaporating in the sun around them were a number of creatures: a badger, a

mouse in armor, and that brawny otter. Brogg did not linger to see if there

were others.

"Chinwart, go and rouse the Queen, quickly!" he ordered.

Tsarmina came bounding down wide awake, she peered round the doorway with

Brogg.

"So, at last they're showing themselves. Maybe we might not need the snares,

Brogg. Perhaps they've walked straight into a trap."

'*But, Milady, they're carrying a white flag. Doesn't that make them

peaceable?" Brogg protested.

"Don't believe all you see, Brogg. You're carrying a sword, but that doesn't

make you a soldier. Let's hear what they have to say."

As she stepped boldly out into the open, Tsarmina whispered out the side of

her mouth at Brogg, "Get the archers. Wait for my signal."

None of the deputation was armed, except die mouse who carried a sword to his

side. Tsarmina recognized him immediately, also the cheeky mousethief standing

behind him. She curled her lip in scorn.

"Escaped prisoners and woodland rebels, what do you want?"

"We are the leaders of the Corim come to deliver an ultimatum." The warrior

mouse's voice was hard and clear.

Tsarmina's mind was racing. All the leaders here in one place; they must not

be allowed to escape alive. Had Brogg organized those archers?

"Well, here I am, speak your piece." The wildcat Queen kept her voice

deceptively calm.

The warrior pointed a mailed paw at her. "Listen carefully to what I say, cat.

You and your creatures have no right to tyrannize or try to enslave

woodlanders. We are honest and free. Mossflower is our home.''

"You insolent upstart!" Tsarmina laughed harshly. "I should have killed you

when I had the chance. Do you realize

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who you are threatening? I am Tsarmina, Queen of the Thousand Eyes, Ruler of

Mossflower."

Her adversary did not seem impressed. "I am Martin the Warrior, and I have not

come here to make idle threats. This is what I have to say: leave this place

by sunset today, take your army with you, go where you will, but stay clear of

Mossflower and do not try to harm any woodlander."

Tsarmina glanced over her shoulder; she could see the archers standing ready

inside the doorway.

"If I do as you say, what then?"

"You will be allowed to leave in peace and none of your creatures will be

harmed. You have my word as a warrior."

Tsarmina shrugged. She held her paws open wide. "What happens if I choose not

to leave?" she asked.

Martin's tone was like Boar's hammer striking the anvil. "You will die here,

you and all your vermin. I will bring this evil place down on your heads.

Again you have my word as a warrior."

Tsarmina remained silent for a moment, as if considering both offers. When she

spoke again her voice was flat and dangerous. "Big words for a little mouse. I

will make no promises save one: you will all be slain where you stand."

At her signal a score of archers leaped forth, ready to fire.

She folded her paws, smiling sarcastically. "What do you say to that, little

warrior?"

Martin stood like a rock, showing no trace of fear. "Then we will stand here

and be killed by your arrows. But look behind me at the trees and on your

outer wall. Every woodlander who can draw bowstring or throw javelin is aiming

straight for your treacherous heart. You would not get a paw's length before

you were sent to the gates of Dark Forest. So carry on, cat. Tell your archers

to fire. We will die so that Mossflower can be rid of you."

Tsarmina's eyes shifted, dodging back and forth. Otters, mice, squirrels,

hedgehogs, even hares—there seemed to be as many of them as leaves in an

autumn gale. Each with a weapon trained on her, every face grim with

determination.

"Down bows!" she called to her archers in an urgent hiss.

The soldiers pointed their bows to the ground, allowing the strings to slacken

off.

The Corim leaders began walking backward out of the gateway.

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Tsarmina extended a quivering claw. "This isn't where it finishes," she

threatened, her voice shrill with rage. "Oh no, this is only the start."

Martin's response rang back at her. "Until sunset tonight. We will wait

outside for your answer."

Brogg popped his head out. "Don't forget to close the gates after you,

huhuhuh!"

As the gates closed, Bella's voice was loud and clear. "These gates are being

shut, not to stop us getting in, but to keep you from getting out."

Tsarmina dashed inside. "Get those nets and ropes out of my way. I want

everybody up to the top of Kotir, the very top. Hurry!" she urged.

Gonff stood in the shadow of a sycamore with Martin.

"Well, matey, it's done now. We're all in it, win or lose. No second chances.

You heard the cat—this is only the start."

"She's planning something, Martin," Lady Amber said from up in the branches.

"It's gone too quiet in there for my liking."

Martin looked up. "Mine, too. Tell the leaders to draw their companies back

under cover. Let us wait and see what move she'll make."

Whispered orders went out, and the woodlanders moved back, blending into the

green shade and mottled shadow. The outside wall was deserted; not a whisker,

paw or weapon showed anywhere. Eerie silence fell upon the soft morning

warmth, broken only by a faint rustle of breeze through the treetops.

Filing silently up a wooden loft staircase, Tsarmina led her forces out onto

the flat, square, battlemented roof of Kotir. Signaling them to lie low, she

peered over the top of the wall.

"Quietly now. Archers come forward. Keep your heads down and station

yourselves around these battlements. Be ready to fire at my command."

The archers deployed stealthily. They lay waiting.

Tsarmina nodded to them.

"Fire!"

A deadly hail of arrows flew earthward. She watched as they vanished into the

treetop foliage. There were no screams or cries from below; silence reigned.

"Fire again!"

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A second volley of shafts plunged down into the green fastness. Still nothing.

Further back in the woodland. Skipper munched an oatcake. "I wonder if the

cat's allowing her troops an early snack?**

Timballisto polished an apple on his fur. "Shouldn't think so. Look at those

arrows peppering the trees where we stood a moment ago."

The woodlanders sat eating, watching scores of arrows striking the branches

and soft earth, just out of range of where they sat. A Loamhedge mouse was

snaring a bowl of milk with Gonff.

"Shouldn't we be firing a few arrows back, sir?" he asked boldly.

"No, matey. Waste of time. Too high. Besides, we'd give our position away to

diem. Let 'em waste more shafts awhile yet."

"Unless we could get high up in those trees on the north side/' Barklad said

as he nibbled a stick of celery.

"Could you hit them from there?"

"What! Good squirrel archers! Of course we could, Martin."

The warrior mouse pondered. "Hmm, possible I suppose. But we'd need something

to decoy them into concentrating their fire over this way. Any ideas, Amber?"

Tsarmina waved her paw for the archers to cease fire. Some of them did not see

her and kept shooting.

"Stop, that's enough, fools," she shrieked. "Can't you see they're not there!"

The arrows stopped. A fox called Bentbrush turned to his companion, a rat

named Whegg.

"Bane would have thought of something to weed 'em out," he said nostalgically.

"Like what, for instance?"

"Well, like, er. I don't know. But he'd have thought of something."

"If he was so smart, why is he so dead now? Look, the bushes are moving down

there!"

Tsarmina was alongside the rat in a flash. "Where? Show me!" she demanded

eagerly.

"Down there, right by where we were shooting."

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The fringe bushes at the wood's edge were indeed shaking and rustling.

Tsarmina smiled with satisfaction. "So, we weren't just wasting arrows; some

of them are hit. Over here, you lot. Give those bushes a good raking with

arrows. I don't want anything left alive down there. Ready, fire!"

The shafts went through the bushes like a shower of rain.

Lady Amber climbed high in an elm until she glimpsed the back of the soldiers

over the battlements. Notching an arrow to her bowstring, she murmured to the

twelve stout squirrels who were following her example, "Three shots, quick as

you like, then away from here."

The shafts flew straight and true, striking the huddled group who were firing

upon the bushes. Tsarmina was saved by the body of Bentbrush, who fell across

her, two arrows protruding from his back. There was nowhere to run on the open

roof, and a score of soldiers were struck by arrows.

Before they could recover and retaliate, the squirrels had gone.

Log-a-Log and Foremole sat some distance from the bushes. Well hidden, they

tugged vigorously at lengths of rope that were attached to bush and branch.

"Yurr, 'ow long do us'ns keep a-tuggen 'ee ropes?"

"Take a rest now, Foremole. They've stopped firing."

Lady Amber and her squirrels swung in from the high branches.

"Good decoy, Martin," she congratulated him. "We gave them something they

won't forget in a hurry. Nearly got the cat, but a fox fell across her."

"Yes, a clever strategy, but you must keep on trying to think one jump ahead

of Tsarmina. She'll come back at you with something else, if I know anything

of warfare. That cat is as cunning as any sea rat, you'll see," Log-a-Log

warned.

Martin pointed to Chibb descending from the blue. "Here comes my spy now."

"Er, ahem, I overheard the cat giving orders."

"What was she saying?"

"Well, harrumph, ahem. Most of it wasn't fit for the ears

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of any decent creature, but she's left a token force on the roof and is taking

the rest downstairs."

Martin unsheathed his sword. "That may mean she intends coming out to make an

attack on us."

Bella nodded. "Well, she can't get through the gateway. I've locked and wedged

that gate myself."

"Then they'll probably be coming over the walls," Skipper interrupted. "This

is what I've been waiting for, hearties—a good chance to use my pike hares."

"Oh, we'll be there, old bean, pikin' away." "Rather. Done this sort of thing

before, doncha know." "Jab, thrust and whatnot; all part of the game." Young

Dinny waved a dagger at his crew. "Ho arr, we be roight aside 'ee. Wudden miss

et furr nuthen."

Martin called order. "I want no pitched battle or wholesale killing," he told

them firmly. "You must do just enough to defend our position and send them

back in retreat over that wall. Lady Amber, keep squirrels high in the trees;

have them take brushwood shields for protection. They must keep those archers

on the roof pinned down."

A weasel called Foulwhisker peered around the doorway to the parade ground.

"All clear, Milady. They think we're still on the roof," he reported.

"Good. Get across the open ground quickly and don't drop those ladders."

The attack force was a large one. Brogg led them across the parade ground to

the wall.

"Right, you lot. Set the ladders up and get climbing," he ordered.

They scaled the walls until the top of the stonework was thick with soldiers.

Nervously they watched the trees, until Brogg came up last, panting hard.

"See anything?"

"No, Cap'n. All clear."

' 'Then haul these ladders up and let them down the other side."

As the last troops set paw on the woodland side, Martin appeared from the

trees. He was backed by six hares carrying pikes. Brogg grinned; not a very

large reception.

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"Troops charge!"

Otters poured out of the undergrowth from behind Martin and the hares. From

the left and right flanks, a horde of Mossflower irregulars sprang from

hiding, closing like pincer jaws.

Pike clashed upon spear as the two sides met, and battle cries arose.

"Death to the woodlanders!"

"Martin for Mossflower!"

A fox struck down an oar slave. He was about to finish him off when Skipper

thwacked him hard with a rock-laden sling, knocking the spear from his paws.

The six hares were causing devastation, with their pikes easily outreaching

Kotir spears. Soldiers facing fierce otters ran to the left or right, only to

see the way barred by mobs of shrews, mice, moles and oar slaves.

Brogg was no coward when his blood was roused. He fought madly to reach the

warrior mouse who carried the whirling sword.

Martin took a stoat low down, whipping the blade up and round at head height

as Boar had shown him. Turning, he felled a weasel. Then Brogg was upon him,

bulling forward. Unable to use his spear, the Captain threw himself at the

warrior mouse. Martin saw him coming. Falling backward and throwing his paws

up, he caught Brogg off balance, tossing him neatly. Skilfully, Brogg landed

on all fours. Grabbing his curved sword, he came thundering back with the

point held low. Martin rolled to one side, leaped straight up, and chopped

down with a double-pawed swing. The weasel Captain found himself holding a

sword handle from which the blade had been completely shorn. He backed up to a

tree, with Martin's sword at this throat.

"Back over that wall. Now!" The warrior mouse's voice snapped like a whip.

To Brogg's surprise, the blade lowered. He found himself dashing for the wall,

shouting aloud, "Retreat, retreat. Back to Kotir!"

Skipper hefted a javelin, taking aim at Brogg, but Martin's sword pushed the

weapon aside.

"Enough, Skip. Let them go."

* * *

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The vanquished troops fought tooth and claw among themselves to be first over

the wall lest the warrior mouse change his mind.

Loamhedge mice moved in to help the wounded.

Martin, Skipper and Gonff stood breathing heavily.

"You should have let us finish it, Martin."

"No, Skipper," Martin said firmly. "The only time I would have allowed that

was if the cat had been here."

Gonff sheathed his two fighting daggers. "Blow me, matey. We had them whipped

there. Why did you let 'em go?"

.Martin wiped his sword on the grass, staring at the slain of both sides

strewing the woodland floor.

"To show them we are not evil," he said at last. "We only want what is ours,

and now I think they know we're strong enough to get it. Could you not see,

the fight is going out of those soldiers? They are beginning to look as if

they need food. Their larders must be just about empty, and only the fear of

their cruel Queen keeps them going. Besides, when I put my plan in motion with

the help of some otters and my friend Timballisto, Kotir will be truly broken

and defeated until it is only a bad name to frighten little ones off to bed

with in the seasons to come."

Bella shook her head sadly as she picked up the limp form of a squirrel who

had been a former oar slave.

"You did right, Martin," she told him. "There is no greater evil than killing.

I don't care whether they call it war or justice. Life is precious."

A Loamhedge mouse wiped away a tear as she turned to Timballisto. "I think

Bella's right," she added.

"Aye, and so do I, young missie. But what can Martin do? He has to lead us to

a lasting peace against a cruel and coldblooded cat," Timballisto said gently.

There was no more fighting that day. Both sides halted to lick their wounds.

Martin waited for sunset, whilst Tsarmina berated her soldiers as she tried to

think up fresh schemes for victory.

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47

It had been a hot afternoon. The sun started to redden against a dusky purple

sky as Tsarmina ventured to stand at her high window. There was the warrior,

standing armor-clad on top of the wall. He had probably used one of the

ladders left behind by the cowards who had retreated. Tsarmina raked her claws

across the window ledge in helpless fury.

"What do you want, mouse?"

As she asked the question, she was groping furiously for the bow and arrows

which she kept close to paw.

"The sun is nearly set, Tsarmina. Remember the ultimatum I gave you this

morning?"

The wildcat Queen played for time as she fumbled with bow and arrows beneath

the window ledge.

"Tell me again, mouse. Refresh my memory."

"The message has not changed. There is still time for you to take your army

out of here and leave us in peace," he said reasonably. "You will not be

harmed if you leave before the sun is down."

The arrow came speeding through the air and struck Martin in the side. The

warrior mouse flinched and swayed with pain, but he stood firm. Tsarmina bit

her Up until blood flowed.

Martin turned and painfully mounted the ladder, with the shaft still sticking

in him. As he went, his words were like a final knell:

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"Then it is finished. I will bring this place down around you stone by stone.

You will travel to the gates of Dark Forest."

The troops sitting in the mess hall heard every chilling word in the failing

light.

"We should have got out of here long ago," a ferret called Ditchpaw snarled at

Brogg. "With an army our size we could live off the fat of the land anywhere."

Others joined him.

"Aye, why should we fight for this old ruin? It's hers, not ours."

"I was with Bane. He let us fight and keep our plunder sacks filled. There

isn't even 'enough to eat in this stinking place."

"I don't know what the mouse has planned, but you can bet he really means

business."

"Aye. We must have been mad ever to think woodlanders were soft."

"Right. Look at the mates we lost today, and where was she?"

"Hiding on the other side of the wall like a worm from a fish."

"More like a cat from a mouse, hahaha—"

Tsarmina stood in the doorway. "You were saying?"

Silence fell across the mess hall.

"Well?" Tsarmina's eyes narrowed.

The rat called Whegg stood up. "We want to get away from this place," he

whined.

Tsarmina prowled across to him, her face almost touching his nose. "Too late,

rat. The sun has set. However, there is one way you could get out: by the

gates of Dark Forest. Do you want me to send you that way?"

Whegg stood trembling with fear as Tsarmina slid back to the doorway. Turning,

she smiled disarmingly.

"Look at you. All of you panicking because of a mouse in armor and some

woodland creatures. You've heard what they want. They don't want a war, they

wish to leave us in peace. Why?"

The troops gazed dumbly at her.

"I'll tell you why, because they cannot get us out of here! Kotir is too

strong. Take no notice of mouse threats," she

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urged. Ditchpaw swallowed hard and dared to speak. "But the mouse said he was

going to destroy Kotir stone by stone. We all heard him."

Tsarmina beckoned to Ditchpaw and a hefty-looking fox.

"You and you, push against the wall," she ordered.

Puzzled but obedient, they shoved against the wall with their paws.

"Oh, you can do better than that. Harder! Push with all your might!"

The two creatures pushed and strained until they fell down gasping.

Tsarmina laughed. It sounded almost jolly. "Well, did anyone see Kotir budge,

even a tiny bit?"

Troops shook their heads, and there was a chorus of no's.

"Of course not, you great load of ninnies." The wildcat spoke like a mother

hedgehog to her infants. "It would take more than all of you and the

woodlanders together to make a single dent in these stones. Kotir will outlast

even the forest outside. Now, listen. I'm going to break my golden rule and

tell you about my plan. First let me say there is no shortage of food. In

fact, starting tomorrow, you are all on extra rations."

Brogg jumped up. "A cheer for the Queen, mates!"

"Hurray!"

Tsarmina nodded gratefully to her Captain. "We will last out the summer. It

has been a drier season than ever before," she continued encouragingly. "Just

before the first rains of autumn come, I will have my archers prepare many

fire arrows, exactly like those the sly woodlanders shot at us. Can you guess

what I'm going to do?"

"Burn the woodlands, Milady."

"Who said that?"

"I did, Milady."

"What's your name?"

"Foulwhisker, Your Majesty."

"Well done, Foulwhisker. Good weasel. Yes, we'll stay safe in Kotir all

summer, with plenty of supplies for everyone. Then in autumn we'll burn the

woodlanders and their forest together."

Brogg was on his paws again. "Well, mates, I'm all for it. A lazy summer with

lots of grub. I vote we stay here with

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four Queen. She's not afraid of woodlanders. Huh, she even f'shot their boss

tonight."

A cheer rang out from the troops. It was not wildly enthusiastic, but at least

it carried a note of optimism.

>BeIla and Lady Amber bent over Martin.

"Looks as if he's coming round," the badger reported : thankfully.

T. B. held the sling pouch with the arrow still sticking from it. "It would

have been a different story without this stone carrier."

• Bella bathed Martin's brow with cool water. "Even allowing for that, it's

not exactly a scratch, is it."

Martin opened his eyes and immediately tried to stand, but Amber pushed him

back. "Be still," she said firmly. "It's only by luck you weren't really

injured. Bella, stick some herbs on his wound and bind it up."

"What hour is it, Gonff?" Martin asked, looking at the sky.

"Not long before midnight, matey."

"Bella, thank you. But please stop fussing over me like a mother hedgehog. I

must get up. There is important work to be done."

Bella extended a paw. "Then up you come, warrior. Gonff and I will help you.

What is this important work that cannot wait?"

Martin tested his leg experimentally, and winced. "I must get to Wuddshipp

tonight."

"Well, jump on my back. It's quite broad enough to bear a mouse—even a wounded

warrior.' *

With Gonff walking in front to clear the path for Bella, they made their way

through the warm woodland night.

Bula the otter lay crouched on the foredeck. She watched the dark shapes

materialize silently from the trees by the bank.

"Who goes there?" she challenged them.

"Corim of Mossflower."

"Advance and be recognized."

"Bula, you old shrimp-chaser!"

"Gonff, you little pie bandit. Hello, Miz Bella. What news? Martin, are you

hurt? What happened?"

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Martin slid from Bella's back and leaned on his sword. "It's nothing, Bula. Is

everything ready?"

"As ready as it'll ever be, Martin."

Bula gave a short bark, and her four companions appeared on deck.

Martin gave a last fond look at Wuddshipp as she rode at anchor on the River

Moss, then he nodded to Bula.

"Sink her!"

"Scuttle Wuddshipp, matey? Are you out of your mind?" Gonff blinked in

disbelief.

Bella laid a heavy paw gently on the mousethief. "Martin knows what he's

doing, Gonff."

With a splash the five otters dived into die river and were momentarily lost

to sight in the dark water. When they surfaced they were at opposite ends of

the craft, three for'ard, two astern. Clamped in their jaws were rope hawsers

which ran to the ship. They began swimming strongly, tugging Wuddshipp around

so that she drifted until stem and stern faced opposite banks. Now Wuddshipp

stood side on across the River Moss.

The otters emerged, dripping. Passing the headropes to Bella, they dived back

in and joined their friends on the other bank. "Make those stern ropes fast to

that big oak," Martin called out to them. "Give some slack to allow her

sinkage. We'll make her fast to this beech over here,"

Diving back into the water, the otters boarded the vessel amidships. Bula

handed out wooden mallets, and they went below. She pointed out the inlets

under the oardecks.

' 'Knock those spigots and seacocks wide open, crew. Let the water in."

They went at it with a will. Soon the river was gushing in from eight

different points and the bilgewater level rose swiftly. Bula took one last

look around, satisfied that the job was done.

"She's filling fast, crew. All ashore!" she ordered.

Martin stood on the bank with them. They watched Wuddshipp list slightly with

the flow, then the black ship began sinking lower in the water. Above the

gurgling flow and creaking timbers, Gonff could be heard singing a mournful

farewell,

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You carried us safe o'er the water,

So proudly you sailed the blue sea.

Now lie on the bed of a river,

To help make old Mossflower free.

But here in our hearts we will keep you, Wuddshipp.

Like a great bird of freedom upon that last trip,

With the wind in my whiskers,

Surrounded by friends.

Sleep deeply, old Wuddshipp,

Your voyaging ends.

The little mousethief sniffed as he wiped a paw across his eyes. "It's a good

thing Log-a-Log isn't here, matey."

Stem and stern sank levelly as the vessel went down. With A cascading ripple

the waters broke over her midship rail.

Martin turned away. "Come on, Gonff. I can't bear to watch her any more."

A pale silver moon dappled the forest floor as they made their way back to the

camp outside Kotir. Bella, with Martin on her back, lumbered through the calm

summer night, flanked by Gonff and Bula.

"Don't fret. It was a great act of sacrifice, a brave thing. Boar would have

been proud of you both," she consoled them in her gruff, gentle voice.

Bula was a little more cheerful. "I'll bet you when this is all over that

Skipper will find a way to refloat your Wuddshipp. "

Gonff looked across at the otter. "D'you really think so? You're not just

saying it to make us feel better?"

Bula winked. "Of course not. We never stoved her in, just opened the inlets.

She's not damaged. Don't you worry, matey. Skipper'11 sort it out. He's got

other things in his head beside water in his ears, that's for sure."

Back at the river, only the tops of stem, stern and masts were showing. The

bilges had settled deep into the river bed under the steady pressure and

weight of inflowing water.

Now the River Moss was blocked. It began overflowing its banks, backing up and

pressing against the sunken ship that barred its course. In less than an hour

there were only three points where the dammed-up river could find escape.

345

Straight down the flood tunnels!

The swirling waters gushed in with a thunderous rumble. A creamy brown deluge

poured underground, sweeping earth, loam, twigs and rocks along in its mad

rush. It ripped through the tunnels, tearing and battering at the walls until

the shor-ings were swept away and the whole thing was welded into one great

torrential underground bore, hurtling toward the lowlands where Kotir stood.

Foremole and Old Dinny were dozing over the crusts of a deeper V ever pie when

they felt the ground reverberate under them. Foremole pressed his snout into

the loam.

"Thurr she goes, Owd Din. Doant need no diggen claws to tell 'ee wot be

'appenen unnerground."

"Ho urr, they varments soon be getten a gurt barth o1 thurr loives, oi do

b'leeve."

"Harr, stan' on moi tunnel, oi'd 'ate t'be they!"

Mossflower slept on through the night, which was still and calm.

But only on the surface.

Whegg the rat yawned and shivered. He tugged the old grain sack which served

as a cloak tighter about his skinny body against the afterdawn freshness. The

morning had started cloudy, with little sunlight to provide warmth up on the

flat roof where he was stationed on watch. Brogg came stamping up. Rubbing his

paws together, he glanced over the battlements at the still woodland.

"Quiet night, eh, Whegg?"

"Aye, bit chilly though, and they're still out there," Whegg reported.

"Those squirrels been shooting again?"

"Nah. They don't if we don't. But I think there's something going on down

there."

Brogg squatted down beside Whegg.

"Ahh, what can they do? You heard the Queen. We'll just sit tight here until

the moment's right."

"Huh, sez she! Those woodlanders aren't as green as they're grass-colored,"

Whegg answered back cheekily.

Brogg shoved him playfully. "You let me and Milady worry about that. Had your

breakfast yet?"

346

"No, not yet. I'm starving. Any chance of slipping off for a bite to eat,

matey?"

"Matey! You mean Captain, don't you?" ; "All right. Captain, then."

"Aye, go on. But send a relief up here. I've got other filings to do beside

standing guard for the like of you."

Whegg rubbed the stiffness from his limbs as he hobbled downstairs, making for

the pantry rather than the mess as Acre was more chance of food down near the

larder. A fox passed him, wiping and scrubbing its paws against the stones.

"Damp down there, mate. Water's coming up between the pantry floorstones," he

warned.

"Water? Where?"

They both looked up to see Tsarmina coming down the stairs. The fox beckoned

over his shoulder.

"Down there, Milady. Anyhow, it's always been damp below stairs."

Whegg shook his head. "Only in the cells and beneath them, not on ground

level. Besides, it's summer, and there hasn't been a drop of rain since

spring."

Tsarmina pushed past them urgently. "Follow me you' two!"

. They hurried down to the pantry passage. Water was leaking through the

floor, and all three jumped back onto the bottom stairs.

"It was only damp when I was here a moment ago," the fox said in surprise.

"Look, you can see the water covering die floor now!"

Whegg touched the water with his paw. "But how? I mean, where has it all come

from?"

Tsarmina's eyes were riveted on the water. "Get through to the dungeons, rat,"

she said shakily. "Tell the guards there to come up and report to me. They'll

know."

Whegg saluted. Stepping gingerly down, he slopped off along the wet passage.

Tsarmina backed up several stairs and waited.

Moments later, Whegg came swishing hurriedly back, his lace a mask of

disbelief.

"Milady, the staircase to the cells is completely underwater. It's like

looking into a well. Ugh! There are two drowned weasels floating in there."

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Wild-eyed, Tsarmina began rubbing her paws as if trying to dry herself.

Suddenly she turned and bounded upstairs. Soldiers' voices were shouting

everywhere.

"The parade ground's like a lake!"

"Bottom barracks is flooded!"

"The supplies will be ruined!"

"Front hall's awash, mates!"

"All the cell guards have been drowned!"

Screams and cries rang in her ears as the Queen hurried to her chamber.

Grabbing the bow from the wall, she began firing arrow after arrow at the

empty face of the woodlands.

"Show yourselves! Martin, come out and fight!" she shrieked.

In the high branches of a poplar, Martin stood, supported by Lady Amber and

four squirrels.

Barklad patted him resoundingly. "Look, Martin, it worked. Kotir is flooding!"

"How high is it, matey?" Gonff called up from ground level.

"Oh, it's looking pretty wet, GonflV'

"And still rising?"

"Aye, still rising, all right."

The squirrel Queen signaled her crew to take the warrior mouse back down to

earth.

"What now, Martin?" she asked.

"Now the real plan goes into action. IVe never told you about my friend

Timballisto, or even how he comes to have a strange name like that. Well, you

just wait and see what he has in store for Kotir, he'll help it to sink, all

right.

"I'm going to get my sword and armor. Tell the Corim leaders to have every

available fighting creature gathered at the edges of the land rise. There's

bound to be a final charge."

Whegg the rat and a weasel named Slinkback threw their armored mail tunics and

shields over the rooftop battlements. There was a faint splash as they hit the

water below.

Brogg faced them, his curved sword at the ready. "Here, what d'you think

you're up to? You can't do that."

Slinkback laughed openly in the Captain's face. "Haha.

348

Listen, Brogg, you'd do better to chuck your stuff over too, or do you want to

be drowned in full armor?"

The Captain looked at his Thousand Eye tunic and red velvet cloak. "But what

will Milady say?"

Emboldened by his companions' actions, the weasel called Fdulwhisker skimmed

his round shield over the battlements. "Don't listen to Brogg, mates. We've

heard enough lies. That mad cat will get the lot of us killed to save mis old

ruin." The weasel whirled at a sound behind him, but too late.

Tsarmina was standing mere. She dealt him a furious blow, killing him where he

stood. Lifting the body effortlessly, she threw it contemptuously over the

battlements, then turned upon the rest.

"Who's next?" she challenged mem. "Does anyone want to join him? Come on, step

up. Let's see who wants to disobey the Queen of Kotir."

They backed off fearfully; the slightest scowl or mutter now would mean

instant death.

Tsarmina snatched up a fallen spear and jabbed it toward one group, then at

another. The troops cringed, cowering close to the walls. She laughed insanely

as she snapped at Ifae stout weapon with a single fierce movement.

"Look at you! Call yourselves warriors! I could break you as easily as I

snapped that spear. But I won't. I'm going to use you to break those

woodlanders out there. The time has come for you to act like proper soldiers.

You'll fight or die, either victory or death. I'll show you how to make wa—"

Whump!

The whole roof shook. , Terrified, the troops fell flat.

Tsarmina dashed to the edge, in time to see a second boulder come whizzing

through the air like some giant shapeless bird.

Whoom!

It struck halfway up the wall. Masonry fell, splashing into the water from the

gap left by the striking missile.

As the roof shook under the impact of another boulder, the wildcat Queen

grasped the battlement, staring wildly across

the deep flooded area.

* * *

349

Skipper patted the rough timber frame. "What do you call this thing again,

mate?"

Timballisto was helping squirrels and otters to lay the next boulder in the

cradle.

"A ballista, Skip. I built them in the wars up north many a time when I was

young. Great idea, isn't it?"

Skipper shook his head admiringly as the system of pulleys and counterweights

creaked under the winding handles, a long throwing arm fashioned from three

silver birches strained and bent against the brake lever.

"You're a cunning old wardog, Timballisto. Ha, a baby hedgehog could operate

this big catapult."

Young Dinny jumped up and down, clapping his paws. "Let oi do et. Oh, please

give thiz young mole a shot, zurr."

Timballisto shut one eye, sighting along the line the rock would take when it

was fired.

"Aye, why not? Be my guest, Young Din," he agreed.

The mole could hardly release the lever pin for chuckling. He threw himself

face down in the grass as the lever snapped back, the long arm pitched forward

as the rock shot away overhead.

"O joy, O arpiness! Whurr'd et go? Wot'd oi 'it?"

The watchers on the shore saw the tower shudder. A hole appeared as the rock

hit Kotir with tremendous force. Rubble and masonry showered into the water as

another gap was made.

A loud cheer went up from the woodlanders.

350

Tsarmina turned from the battlements to give an order to her soldiers, but

they were gone. The roof was deserted.

Below in the water were foxes and weasels, ferrets, stoats and rats. Some were

swimming, others were hanging onto doors they had hacked off with their

weapons. Wooden window shutters, tables, benches, anything that could float

was being utilized by the fleeing army.

The rooftop shook from yet another assault by the siege catapult.

Brogg stood faithfully at the head of the stairs.

"You had better come down, Milady. The whole building is starting to crumble

inside. Hurry, before the stairways collapse," he advised.

Tsarmina turned left then right. She ran to the battlements, looked over and

ran back in agitation.

"You'll see, we'll win yet. It's that traitor brother of mine, Gingivere. He

must still be alive. A single mouse couldn't have thought all this up. I

should have killed them both and made sure they were dead when I had the

chance," she ranted.

Leaping the spaces where the stairs had been demolished, the Queen and her

Captain made their way to the high chamber. It was still intact. Beneath their

paws, Kotir rumbled and crumbled in its death throes. The whole place was be-

351

ginning to disintegrate into the massive, rapidly rising lake which surrounded

it.

Brogg lifted a table and slid it out of the window. It did not have far to go

before it splashed into the water.

"Hurry, Milady. We can both make it out of here on the table!'*

Helped by Brogg, Tsarmina made an undignified scramble over the window ledge.

She lowered herself onto the upturned table. It rocked crazily in the water,

but stayed floating.

Brogg climbed up on the window ledge. "Hold it steady, Milady, closer to the

wall so that I can get on."

Tsarmina ignored the Captain. She pushed further along the wall until the

table was beyond Brogg*s reach.

"Milady, wait forme!"

"Don't be silly, Brogg." Tsarmina sounded almost condescending. "You can see

there's only room enough for your Queen on this thing. Two of us would sink

it."

The Captain scratched his head dully as if trying to understand.

"But, Your Majesty, what about me?"

Tsarmina pushed further along the wall. "Oh, you'll find something, Brogg. Get

ashore and regroup the army. I'm going to find that mouse warrior and my

brother Gingivere. Don't you worry, I'll make them pay for the loss of Kotir."

Tsarmina floated off round the sinking stronghold, propelling herself along

the walls by paw, to the other side, where there were no woodlanders.

Brogg crouched miserably on the window sill, trying to make up his mind which

surprised him more—the desertion of Tsarmina his Queen, or the arrival of a

huge ballista boulder which put an end to his bafflement forever.

It was a tranquil summer morning far to the east in Moss-flower. On the farm

the small creatures were out tending crops with Gingivere and Sandingomm. It

had become a second home for the young woodlanders who had made the trip to

this peaceful haven of refuge.

.Abbess Germaine and Columbine sat upon the riverbank together. Columbine was

busying herself with roots she was drying; it was a good area for medicinal

herbs and plants.

352

Abbess had charcoal and parchments; she was drawing something. Columbine

watched from the corner of her eye. 5he remembered Loamhedge. The Abbess used

to draw a lot o those far-off days, often translating her thoughts onto

parchments which she kept in a journeying satchel—a thing she had not done

since their arrival at Brockhall.

Now the old mouse took up a dried reed. Using it as a straight edge, she

worked busily with her charcoal sticks, nibbing here, altering there, shading

and curving the lines dntil a clear outline of a great building began to

emerge. Germaine peered over the top of her spectacles as she worked,

Columbine smiled fondly at her.

"That's a fine big house, Abbess."

"I suppose you could call it a house, child. I've had this idea in my mind

since we left Loamhedge."

"Ah yes, poor old Loamhedge. I was just thinking about k myself. Perhaps we

could have built your big house there, -had we been able to stay," Columbine

suggested.

"No, that would not have been possible, Columbine. There was very little local

stone around the Loamhedge area."

Columbine put the roots aside and looked at the drawing with renewed interest.

"Then this great house is not just a dream. It could be built if we had the

right material and location, plus, of course, die creatures to build it."

Germaine nodded decisively, spreading the plans out be-tween them. "Oh yes,

indeed. Let me explain. This would not be a mere house. The building I am

planning will be a real Abbey for all our woodland friends who wish to live

there, a peaceful place where all would exist in happiness."

"How lovely. Tell me more about your Abbey," Columbine said excitedly.

The old Abbess explained eagerly, pleased to have Columbine showing interest

in her brainchild.

"See here, this is the outer wall, with its gatehouse, small wicket gates and

big main threshold. Here is the main building—bell tower, Great Hall,

kitchens, dormitories, infirmary, store rooms, cellar spaces ... I have

thought of everything that a proper Abbey needs. These areas around the large

building are enclosed within the main walls—they are orchards and fields to

grow crops in, a pond, and everything it

353

would need to be self-supporting. This is a dream that could become reality if

Mossflower were freed."

Columbine gazed in wonder at the well-outlined plan. "You say it could become

reality?"

"Oh yes." The old Abbess nodded emphatically. "When we first saw Kotir I

noticed that though the stones were darkened and slime-covered, it had been

built of red sandstone. There are outcrops of it all over the Mossflower area.

Yesterday I crossed the River Moss on a log, and there is an old quarry over

there. We could hew an endless supply of good stone from it."

"A beautiful dream Abbess, maybe someday—"

"Abbess, Columbine, hurry up, we've made you a lovely cheese and apple salad,

but Coggs says he'll eat it all unless you come right away," Spike said

breathlessly as he and Posy dashed up. Sandingomm followed, looking

mock-seriously at the two mice.

"I think you'd better do as they say, Abbess. I'll go and get Uncle Gingivere.

We don't want him to miss his salad because of that fat little Coggs."

Germaine allowed Spike and Posy to help her up.

"Cheese and apple salad—my favorite," she told them. "Lead me to it. I'll show

that wretch Coggs a thing or two about putting salad away. Did I ever tell

you, when I was a young mouse long ago, I once ate three great bowls of cheese

and apple salad at a sitting?"

"Oh, hahaha. Then why aren't you tat like Coggs? He says he's not going to

stop eating until he's twice the size of Skipper."

"What d'you mean, twice the size? My goodness, look at you, young Posy. You'll

be bursting out of your fur soon."

"Hahaha. Oh, stoppit, Abbess. That tickles. Haha-heeheehee!"

The first Kotir soldiers were hauled dripping to shore by the woodlanders.

Dispirited, disarmed and soaking wet, they were made to sit at the water's

edge by Skipper and the six hares, who fished them out with fearsome-looking

pikes. "Sit down there, you great wet weasel." "Steady on, Trubbs old chap,

that's a stoat." "Oh, I say, sorry. Sit there, you soaking stoat."

354

"Saturated stoat, don't you mean, old bean?"

"Hmm, what about the weasels?"

"Oh, actually they got wringing wet, both begin with W, you see."

"Righto. Sit over there, you wringing wet weasel."

"Oh golly, IVe got a rat now. How d'you address these blighters?"

; "Easy, old thing—rats are rancid." ~ "Rancid? That doesn't mean wet."

"No, but the wretched cove does look pretty rancid."

"So he does. Splendid. Sit here, you rancid rat!"

Skipper patrolled the ranks of defeated troops and eyed them sternly.

"Sit tight, vermin," he said sternly. "Keep your paws on your heads, where I

can see them. First one to make a funny move goes straight back into that

water on the end of a pike. Understood?''

Young Dinny and Ben Stickle fed them bread and milk.

"Here you blaggards, eat this and drink up. Though the way you've behaved

toward us, we shouldn't be giving you anything."

"Hurr, too roight. Oi'd give' 'ee ditchwatter an' frogtails ifn oi 'ad moi

way."

A weasel tried to snatch the bread from a stoat. Dinny cuffed him soundly

round the ears with blunt digging claws. "None o' that yurr, please, or oi'll

sett 'ee atop o' yon cat-tingpult an' shoot 'ee into middle of 'ee lake," he

threatened.

There was no fight left in the vanquished Kotir troops. Most of them looked

grateful to be fed and treated civilly by their captors. Lady Amber and her

archers sat in low boughs, bows and arrows ready in the event of an uprising.

Martin was otherwise engaged. He made his way further along the bank, away

from the bustle and noise. Standing at the north edge of the lake, he watched

Tsarmina's progress in silence. The wildcat Queen was obviously making her

escape bid, leaving her army to its fate. She paddled between Kotir and the

shore, whilst behind her the fortress crumbled and splashed into the water

under the ballista's constant bat-

355

tering. The wildcat Queen floated steadily toward land on the upturned table.

Martin drew his sword. "Boar the Fighter, help me this day," he whispered,

remembering its maker. Then the warrior mouse limped along the shoreline as

fast as his injured limb would permit, on his way to intercept the enemy.

Tsarmina paddled in to land and sprang ashore. Ignoring the activity on the

east side, she stared miserably at Kotir. There was no further need of rock

missiles; the flood had done its work. With a rumbling crash, the last of the

roof caved in. The whole structure disintegrated, splashing into the great

lake. There was a boiling of muddy brown bubbles, then the lake surface went

still under the gray midday sky, rippled only by the soughing wind.

Kotir was gone from sight forever!

Tsarmina threw back her head in an anguished yowl and ran to the water's edge,

drawing back swiftly as the wetness touched her paws.

"I have kept my promise to you, cat. Kotir has fallen!" A stern voice called

out from behind her.

The wildcat Queen froze, fearing to turn around.

"Gingivere, is that you?"

Martin strode to the water's edge and stood a short distance from his mortal

enemy.

"I am Martin the Warrior, son of Luke, friend of Boar the Fighter."

Tsarmina turned to face her foe. "So, it is you. Well, my little warrior,

where are your woodland allies? Not here to help you?"

Martin leaned upon his sword. Now that the moment had arrived he felt only

contempt. "Tsarmina, you are the Queen of an underwater fortress, Ruler of the

fishes.'' His voice had a mocking ring to it. "Cat, you are scum, floated

ashore on an upturned kitchen table, nothing more!"

Stung by the scathing insult, Tsarmina gave a scream of rage, and dived

straight upon Martin. Digging her claws into his back, she gave a mad yell of

triumph, which was swiftly followed by a howl of pain as the keen blade

slashed her ribs to the bone.

Martin winced as he swung his sword. Feeling Tsarmina's

356

claws pull free of his back, he stabbed furiously at the great furred bulk of

the wildcat. She leaped back a pace.

Maddened by the same berserk rage that had driven Boar onward, Martin hurled

himself upon the surprised wildcat.

This time Tsarmina took two thrusts in the flank before she raked the

warrior's face savagely with vicious claws. The helmet was torn from Martin's

head, armor flapped loose as Tsarmina disentangled herself, but he managed to

pierce her paw right through.

They crouched panting for a moment, both sorely wounded. Then Martin dashed

the blood from his vision, and with a bellow of rage he charged the wildcat.

This time she was ready. Tsarmina nimbly sidestepped, cruelly striking

Martin's back as he plunged by, opening further the wounds she had already

inflicted.

The warrior mouse fell heavily upon his face and lay still. Tsarmina licked

her wounds, chuckling evilly. She had finally finished her enemy off.

Then Martin stirred.

Shaking himself, he stood upright. Gripping his battle blade with both paws,

the warrior went headlong at Tsarmina.

Despite the shock at her opponent's recovery, Tsarmina swiftly gathered her

wits, sidestepping once more.

This time Martin sidestepped with her, striking a mighty blow to her back.

The wildcat Queen screamed in agony, rounding suddenly on him. Paw grasped

claw, teeth bit fur; kicking, scratching, gouging and stabbing, they rolled

over and over on the bank in a shower of flying earth.

Tsarmina freed herself, leaving Martin prone on the ground. Once more she

backed off licking her wounds.

"Got you that time, woodlander!" she crowed.

Digging his blade into the earth, Martin heaved himself up, breathing

raggedly. Exerting all his strength, he whirled the war sword aloft.

* 'Mossflowermr! *'

Fear was etched in Tsarmina's eyes as she tried to fight off the wild

onslaught. Here was a warrior who would not lie down and die.

Locked in combat, they strained and flailed at one another,

357

the warrior mouse hacking at the wildcat Queen, who gave back slash for

thrust, bite for cut.

Her hide open in a dozen places, Tsarmina kicked out with her four paws,

sending Martin flying into the water. She grabbed a piece of driftwood to push

him further in, only to find him standing in the shallows, waiting to attack.

Covered from head to tailtip in mud, blood and water, Martin struck the branch

that Tsarmina thrust at him, breaking it in two with a single swipe. His next

backslash splintered the remains deep into Tsarmina's paw.

Crouching low with the sword point held out in front, Martin waded out of the

water toward his foe, the red glitter of total war shining hot in his eyes,

his teeth bared in a wild laugh.

Tsarmina's craven heart failed her.

The wildcat began circling nervously as Martin closed in. Like a dream from

the past, she recalled that winter evening in her father's bedchamber when she

had smashed the rusty sword of a captive mouse. She remembered the words he

had spoken as he was dragged off to the cells at Kotir: You should have killed

me when you had the chance, because I vow that I will slay you one day!

Unaware of the water behind her, Tsarmina retreated, backing off as the little

warrior came toward her, bloodied but unbowed, the mouse who would not lie

down and die. Martin, the one that fought like a great male badger.

Back, back, she paced, her eyes shifting from the gleaming blade to Martin's

piercing eyes. Deeper and deeper into the waters of the lake went the Queen of

the Thousand Eyes.

Even though Martin had halted upon the lake shore, he seemed to be getting

larger, towering in her vision. She had to get as far away from this threat as

she could.

Suddenly Tsarmina realized she had gone too deep. The energy drained from her

body; dry land seemed miles away. Water filled her world, dark, swirling,

eddying, tugging, longing to fold her in its wet embrace, pulling her down,

fill-big her mouth, nostrils and finally her eyes.

The dream had come true. The nightmare was alive!

Back in the shallows, Martin dragged his wounded body onto the land. Trying to

lift his sword one last time, he managed to gasp out, "Sleep in peace, Boar.

Mossfiower is free!"

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The shining sword slid from the warrior's grasp and he fell to the earth, a

limp sodden bundle.

The captives on the lakeshore were seated in ranks. Paws on heads, they

disputed in low voices with each other.

"I think we're safe. These woodlanders are not killers."

"Huh, if we'd been captured by Bane or Tsarmina it would have been a different

story, mate."

"I'll say. We'd all have been floating face down in that lake by now, those

who hadn't sunk."

"Aye. Instead the woodlanders fed us and cared for us."

"Better grub than I ever had at Kotir."

Bella forestalled any further comment by standing upon a mound and calling for

order.

"Attention, all of you. Listen to me!"

Murmuring died away as the former army of Kotir listened to hear what was in

store.

The badger pointed over their heads at the lake. "Look! Turn your heads and

see—Kotir is gone forever. Now you have no leader or walls to hide behind. The

war in Moss-flower is at an end. You are defeated."

Late afternoon sun emerged through the clouds as Bella continued. "We do not

make total war upon you because we are not killers. However, that would not be

the case a second time. Remember that."

A timid paw showed in the ranks. It was Whegg the rat.

"Then we're not to be sentenced to death?" he asked anxiously.

Bella held .her breath a moment before speaking.

"No."

There was an audible sigh of relief from the prisoners.

Whegg could not resist a second question.

"What will happen to us?"

Skipper stood on the mound beside Bella.

"Right," he said. "Clean up your lugs and listen hard, mateys. I'll only say

this once. You will each swear an oath that you will never again carry a

weapon or come near Moss-flower country, though if I'd had my way none of you

would have got out of that lake alive today. Be that as it may, Bella of

Brockhall here has said that you be spared, so you have her to thank for your

lucky escape. But I'll tell you this: any

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creature that doesn't agree to our terms, let him show a paw now. The lake is

still here, and so am I."

The captives immediately sat upon their paws.

"Good!" Skipper nodded his approval. "Now you will remain here until tomorrow,

when you will be escorted under guard to the flatlands west of here. You can

travel west or south, but not back up north and certainly not back here to our

land. That is all for now. Be still and behave."

Bella and Skipper stepped down to join Amber and the others.

Amber looked concerned. "Where has the big cat got to?"

Timballisto was worried too. "Where is my friend? Has anyone seen Martin?" he

asked anxiously.

Ben Stickle nodded. "Just before Kotir fell into the lake, I saw him on the

bank. He headed up that way, yonder."

"Then he must be found straightaway," Bella interrupted. "Gonff, you and I

will search the water's edge. The rest of you stay here and keep an eye on

this lot."

Before they moved off Bella issued a warning:

* 'Watch out for Tsarmina.''

Young Dinny, Bella and Gonff halted further up the bank. Timballisto joined

them, refusing to watch captives while his friend was missing.

Bella looked about. "I don't think he would have come this far with his wound.

In all that armor he couldn't possibly have traveled fast enough."

"Aye, besides, what would he have wanted all this way along the shore, when we

were capturing prisoners further down?" Gonff agreed.

"If I know my friend, I think he must have spotted the cat."

"Hurr, moi diggen claws be a-tellen me Marthen be about sumwhurrs. Oi do feel

et."

"Well, we'd better trust you, Din. The old digging claws haven't been wrong

yet, matey."

"Lookit, thurr!" Squinting hard, the mole pointed further along the shoreline

to where the sunlight was clearly glinting off a shining object.

Gonff broke into a run. "By the teeth and fur, matey, that must be the sword!"

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* * *

The little mousethief was first to reach the fallen figure of his friend.

Dinny, Timballisto and Bella came as fast as they could to the spot where the

sword lay. They found Gonff blinded by tears, his whole body shaking with

grief as he knelt by the pitiful bundle that was his friend. "He's dead,

they've killed our Martin!"

Dinny knelt beside him, burying his face in the earth. "Hoa nay, letten et

doant be true!"

The two friends wept bitterly.

Timballisto would not, could not, believe that after the short period they had

been reunited, his friend had been taken to the gates of Dark Forest.

Timballisto turned Martin gently over, laying his limbs straight. Swiftly, he

hurried to the water and filled Martin's helmet. Soaking a cloth, he dabbed

feverishly at the fearsome wounds that covered his friend's body.

"Who could have done these awful things to a living creature?"

Gonff wiped his eyes. Picking up a long broken claw from the earth, he held it

out to them. "Tsarmina, that's who," he said grimly.

Dinny squinted at the claw. He cast about, sniffing and sifting with his paws,

finding many traces of blood on the ground. "They'm fought a gurt battlefoight

yurr. Lookit, cat-bludd on Marthen's sword, ground all a-ploughed up."

Gonff followed the tracks to the water's edge. "You're right, matey. The cat

went backward, into the lake. I think our warrior won the battle."

Once more the tears sprang to the little mousethief's eyes. "Martin, we went

through everything together. Why couldn't I have been here to help you,

matey?"

Bella was cradling Martin's head, when suddenly she leaned closer to the

warrior mouse's lips.

"He's alive! His mouth is moving!" she exclaimed joyfully.

T. B. began dabbing furiously at his friend's paws with the wet cloth. "He's

alive! My friend is alive! Bella, is it true? Oh, please say yes!"

The badger's eyes were misted. "He's talking to Boar my

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m

father at the gates of Dark Forest," she said in a strained voice.

"Don't let him go there, please. Do something to help him!" Timballisto

begged, seizing Bella's paws.

Bella thought hard for a moment. "Wait, I have not got the knowledge as a

healer for something as serious as this. But I know one who has—Abbess

Germaine."

Gonff paced up and down, shaking his head. "But she's taken the little ones

over to the east of Mossflower. It would be too late by the time we found

her."

"Then send Chibb. He can fly there," T. B. said in a desperate voice.

Even in the urgency of the situation, Bella of Brockhall took command.

Restoring order and good sense, she provided a solution.

"Friends, here is the only way we may save Martin. Listen carefully. Gonff,

hurry back to our camp and send Chibb east. He must tell the Abbess to gather

her medicines and herbs together. Meanwhile, you will get blankets and bring

them back here. Do not move Martin, just keep him warm and dry. Abbess

Germaine is old and cannot travel fast, but I will follow Chibb and bring her

back from Gingivere's farm as speedily as I can."

Without another word, Bella dashed along the shore with a speed surprising for

a badger. Cutting to the east, she crashed into Mossflower Woods like a

juggernaut, disappearing in a welter of churned-up ground and flying foliage.

Night fell upon the lakeside. A fire burned bright as Goody Stickle tended

Martin, tucking the blankets gently but firmly around his injured body. Ben

Stickle hurried hither and thither gathering firewood.

T. B. stood by, feeling totally useless as he listened to the fevered voice of

his friend.

"Carry on the sweep of the blade," Martin whispered. "Up and across, eh, Boar,

you old battlebeast. Who will wield our swords for us now, warrior?"

T. B. was about to speak, when Goody held a paw to her lips. "Hush now, Mr. T.

B. He's a-sleepin*. I'm doin' all I can to keep the life in the poor mouse

until Abbess gets here."

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Trubbs and the hares built a bower of reeds and willow

about Martin and Goody, speaking in whispers as they did

so.

"Keep the old night breezes off, what!" "Rather. Can do without the bally

wind, y'know." "Nothing worse than a chill on the paws when a chap's

not on top form."

Pale moonlight glimmered off the surface of the lake as

Martin lay still, scarcely breathing. The woodlanders sat

waiting.

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49

An hour before dawn, the occupants of the small farmhouse were up and about.

Columbine checked the Abbess's satchel.

"Conifrey, elmbark, motherwort, verbena, rosehips. . . . I can't think of

anything we've missed out, can you, Abbess?"

The old mouse stood facing the western woodlands. "No, child. I've got

everything I need. Now stop upsetting yourself and prepare breakfast for the

little ones."

Chibb perched on the farmhouse window sill, listening to Gingivere and

Sandingomm.

"We must not let the little ones know," Gingivere was saying, "Let them play.

Soon enough they'll grow up and have to face life's problems."

"You're right, Gingivere. Spike, Posy, would you set the bowls and spoons out,

please."

"But Lady Sandingomm, you said it was Ferdy and Coggs's turn today. We did it

at supper last night."

"You're right. It's not fair. Hey, you two, come on. Your turn for setting the

breakfast things out."

Ferdy and Coggs came running from the woodland edge. "Hurray, it's Miz Bella.

Look out or she'll knock us all over."

Bella came pounding out of the woods, lathered in foam and breathing heavily.

Ferdy ran alongside of her.

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"Miz Bella, have you been running all night? Have we won the war?"

"Come away, little one. No time for games now."

Gingivere led Bella to the farmhouse, but she collapsed near the front

doorstep, panting.

Sandingomm dashed indoors. "I'll get something to dry you down and you can

have breakfast."

Bella shook her head as she caught her breath. "No time, friend. Some water to

drink, then I'll be on my way. Abbess, are you ready?"

Germaine patted Bella's heaving flank. "Oh, I'm ready. But you're not, Bella.

You need rest. You'd never make it back like that, so lie still awhile."

Still panting with exertion, the badger took a sparing drink of water and lay

upon her side.

"Right. It won't take me long, Gingivere. Get some stout cords and be ready to

bind the Abbess on my back. We don't want her being swept off in the woods."

Chibb decided to forego breakfast. "Er ahem. I'll fly back and tell them

you're on the way."

Sandingomm turned to Columbine. "We'd best leave breakfast. Pack some food to

eat on the way. I'll close up the farmhouse and we'll go back together."

Posy tugged Gingivere's tail. "Did you hear that, Uncle? We're going for a

trip and taking a picnic with us."

"Of course we are, Posy." Gingivere smiled distractedly.

A short while later, the Abbess sat upon Bella's back, securely roped together

with her satchel of herbs.

Bella took a deep breath. "Good, I've stopped blowing like an old frog now. My

legs are feeling steady. Hold tight, Germaine. Here we go!"

Goody Stickle tried hard not to let her concern show. She had done all she

could, even following her instincts and allowing the delirious warrior to

clutch his sword as he lay raving. Timballisto stood by her, gnawing worriedly

at his claws. "He's still trying to get past those gates into Dark Forest.

Goody, what can we do?"

Wiping her paws on her old flowery apron, the hedgehog tried to look busy.

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"Well, for a start you can stop hangin' about an' botherin1 me, Mr. T. B. You

go and gather some firewood with my Ben." She softened at the helpless look on

Timballisto's face. "My dear, you can't do anythin' for your friend, nor can

I, really, until proper help arrives. You go and help our Gonff on lookout. Go

on, I'll call you if he wakes."

When he had gone, Goody wrung out more cloths to place on Martin's brow. He

was feverish, shivering, sweating by turns, and constantly murmuring.

"Bring her head around," he muttered. "Sail for the shore. I'll rescue Boar

from those sea rats. Give me my sword. Watch out for those seabirds and the

crabs, Gonff. Leave the rest to me, matey."

Midmorning brought a shout from Gonff. "It's Bella! She's got the Abbess with

her. Hey, Bella, over here!"

The badger came thundering across the lakeshore. Stopping in a shower of

earth, she parted the ropes with a slash of her big claws and a few snapping

bites. The Abbess tumbled from the badger's back. Pausing only to grab her

satchel, she ran to Martin's side.

"You did well, Goody Stickle, go and rest now," she said comfortingly. But

Bella was shocked by Martin's appearance. "Abbess, he looks dreadful. Do you

think he'll live?" she asked, looking over Germaine's shoulder.

Germaine was already ministering to Martin.

"Gonff, put some water to boil on the fire. Bella, open my satchel and give me

some feverfew—yes, that one there. Now a touch of nightshade; not too much.

Ben, can you gather some fresh dock leaves for me?"

As she tended the warrior mouse, the Abbess answered Bella. "Do not worry, old

friend. This mouse will live, if I have anything to do with it, though it will

take all my skills and a long, long time before he is completely out of

danger. Columbine will be here soon. You go and rest; the race that you ran to

save Martin's life would have killed a lesser creature. You must get some

sleep."

The three female hares were not fond of the idea that prisoners should be fed

and cared for. Prodding the defeated

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troops of Kotir with their pikes, they drove them ten at a time to the lake.

Harebell, Honeydew and Willow thoroughly approved of cleanliness.

*'Come on, slimeface. Get in there—you won't drown "

"Use plenty of sand and scrub hard, you mucky lot."

"You there, fox, wash behind those grubby ears."

The fox turned away muttering insolently, "Huh why should I?"

Trubbs and company were practicing with slings. Ffring bounced a sharp pebble

off the fox's bottom, causing him to jump.

"Because you won't get any tuck if you don't, you filthy rogue."

"Hear hear! Now get those ears washed—both of 'em, laddie."

"Then you can wiggle *em in the sun until they dry, what!"

Skipper inspected a rat. "Show me those paws. Turn 'em over. Right. Go and get

fed. Hoi! Where d'you think you're sailing off to, scruffbag? Get back in and

scrub those whiskers, or I'll come and do it for you with a cob of spruce

bark."

He leaned on his pike, discussing the prisoners with Dinny and the hares.

"This miserable lot will eat us out of crop and woodland, the way they're

scoffing," he objected.

"Burr, they'm gotten a dozen stummicks apiece, nasty vurrmen."

Log-a-Log pushed a half-washed weasel back in with his stave. "Not to worry. I

heard Bella mention to Lady Amber that we're marching them out of Mossflower

tomorrow."

"Urr, zooner th' better, sez oi."

"Any news of Martin yet?"

"Bella said he's still the same, no change, though the Abbess has decided to

have him moved down here after this lot have been banished."

"I still find it hard to believe that he slew the big cat. That must have been

a battle and a half, matey.''

"Urr, ee'm a wurrier, our Marthen, tho' the battle be furr 'ee loif of 'im

now."

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It was noon of the following day. The sun beat down on the dusty path that

separated Mossfiower Woods from the flat-lands rolling away to the west.

On the far side of the ditch stood the defeated army of Kotir, each one

carrying two days' supply of food and water. On the woodland side of that same

ditch stood the hordes of Mossflower: shrews, mice, squirrels, hares, otters,

hedgehogs and moles, together with Gingivere, Sandingomm and Bella.

The badger stood (all. Pointing to the horizon, she addressed the freed

prisoners.

"You must go now. Travel together or split into groups, as you will. If any of

you are thinking of finding more weapons and coming back here, I would

strongly advise you to listen to what these creatures have to say."

The six hares stood forward, brandishing their long pikes.

"Hello, you rascals. We're the border patrol now, y'know."

"Yes, first regiment Fur and Foot Fighters at y'service."

"Woodlands are splendid, but the old flat country, this is the place to be,

what!"

"So, you've got until sunset to vanish into the distance, savvy?"

"Actually, if we can still sight you then, there's going to be another jolly

old battle."

"Rather. We hares and these woodland chappies will be only too happy to pursue

you."

There was silence from the other side of the ditch. Some of the Kotir troops

began shuffling nervously, unsure of what to do.

"Count of ten to be on your way," Skipper's gruff call rang out. "Them that

stays here gets buried here. Right, mate vs. Altogether!"

Every woodland voice was raised in deadly unison.

"One!"

"Two!"

"Three ..."

The leaderiess foxes, weasels, stoats, ferrets and rats ran. They ran as they

had never run before, stumbling and pushing to get out in front. Not a word

was spoken amongst them. All that could be heard was the harsh panting of

breath as

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they sped away into the far sunlit distance, each one feverishly hoping that,

regardless of the others, he would be out of sight by sunset, away from

Mossflower and its grim horde of dangerous woodlanders.

Halfway through the long afternoon. Lady Amber and Skipper approached Bella.

"Couldn't we just go after them one last time, Bella?" Skipper pleaded.

The badger shook her head at the Corim leaders. "No, friends. WeVe won,

Mossfiower is ours again."

"Hurr, let's go *ome!"

Foremole's words in his rough molespeech sounded like the sweetest music ever

heard.

369

A score of days had gone since the banishment.

The lakeshore rang to the sounds of late evening merriment. Colored lanterns

were hanging from the trees, reflecting a mass of orange, pink, blue and gold

lights upon the calm waters. Stars twinkled above, woodlanders danced below,

garlands of flowers were Strewn everywhere and delicious smells came from the

great fires at the lake margin.

Martin awakened to the sounds of Gonff singing.

Let no foul beast give one command,

I'll say, "O no not me,

My back bends to no tyrant's rule.

Hey, friends, this mouse is free."

Free has a sound, it rings around,

A lovely way to be.

So dance or sing, do anything,

You're free free free free freeeeeeeeeee!

"Hurr, that's wot 'ee think, Gonffen. You tell 'im missus."

"Gonff, come and help me to get the stopper off this strawberry wine, right

away."

"Immediately, my Columbine, O nurse of warriors and charming mouselet. I'm

coming, my little candied chestnut."

There were roars of laughter.

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Timballisto flopped down on the edge of Martin's blanket.

"So, you're awake, mate. The Abbess said it'd be sometime today."

Martin smiled and grasped his friend's paw.

"Don't worry, I'm back now. How long have I lain here?"

Before Timballisto could answer, Ferdy and Coggs dashed up.

"Ha, so you're awake, sleepyhead," Ferdy teased.

"Yes, fancy dozing off when there's a party," Coggs added.

The Abbess and Bella came over, decked in flowers and carrying a bowl of

woodland vegetable soup, which the old mouse started feeding to Martin from a

ladle.

"Good evening, Martin. Don't answer, just keep eating; we want you up and

about as soon as possible."

The warrior mouse did as he was bidden. Soon all the woodlanders had gathered

around him.

"Look, Martin's awake now!"

"My, my, doesn't he look well!"

"Urr, loivly as pepper V strong as ale."

"Haha, ahoy there, shipmate."

"Well, how do you feel, Champion of Mossflower?" Bella chuckled happily.

Martin gazed about him at the friendly faces and smiled through the tears

falling from his eyes.

"Good to be alive, Bella!"

There was a loud cheer, then the voices poured in thick and fast.

"Guess what, matey—while you were asleep I wedded Columbine."

"Yes, Gonff's given up being a thief—I've seen to that."

"Ha, we found them a place, y'know, while we were out on border patrol down

south along the path. It's just inside the woods."

"Yes, it's a tiny old church called Saint Ninian's or some-such. How it came

there, goodness knows. It's all overgrown and rickety.''

"Oh, my Gonff will soon fix that up."

"Hey, matey, have you noticed that the lake's gone down a bit? Skipper and

Log-a-Log have practically refloated Wuddshipp. "

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"Indeed they have. Before summer's out we'll be shipping stone down from the

quarry near Gingivere's Farm."

"Have you heard? We're going to build a great stone Abbey."

"A huge place where we can all live together."

"Right at the side of the path, not far from where Gonff will be living with

Columbine."

Bella waved her paws for order. "Hush now. Go and enjoy yourselves. Our

warrior has fallen asleep listening to your chatter."

The fires burned low, though the festivities continued on the lakeshore as the

sounds of happiness drifted up into the soft summer night, traveling onto the

places beyond the stars, where legends live.

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Some creature was knocking on the gatehouse door.

Bella of BrockhaU rose slowly from her armchair by the embers of the fire and

shuffled across to the threshold.

A fine plump mouse stood framed against the starstrewn night. He entered,

nodding toward the small mouse who lay asleep, propped up on the arm of the

chair by a cushion.

"I knew he'd be here listening to your stories, marm."

Bella squinted closely at the plump mouse. "You must be Gonff, son of Gonif

and Columbine from Saint Ninian's. I thought I recognized your son. He's the

image of his grandfather."

The plump mouse chuckled. "Aye, you'd better check your candied chestnuts and

cheese, marm. There's nothing safe while he's around. Lucky he's asleep, eh."

Bella picked up the sleeping mouse with great gentleness. "Little rogue. Look,

his tunic's full of acorns. Wonder where he got them from. Come on, I'll carry

him back home for you."

Together they made their way south along the dusty path, Bella talking quietly

as they went.

"Pity he went to sleep like that, I never told him of the great vow that

Martin made when he hung up his sword to become a Redwall mouse. Or of the

wonderful feast when the main gate was raised. That was when you were born,

y'know. Hoho, we certainly made a double celebration of it

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that summer. Skipper of otters ate so much that he sank in the Abbey pool, and

Lady Amber dived in to fish him out. Did your mum and dad ever tell you about

it?"

Gonff, son of Gonff and Columbine, nodded, smiling in the late autumn night.

"Aye, at least a hundred times, matey!"

374

The last day of autumn was hot and bright as midsummer. Still as a millpond,

the sea reflected a cloudless blue sky. Seabirds wheeled and called, soaring

lazily on the warm ther-mals above the sun-baked sands of the shore.

Two hares stood shaded by the cave entrance, watching a folly grown male

badger plough his way wearily across the beach toward them. He was big and

dangerous-looking, the fierce light in his eyes glinted off the metal tips of

an immense warclub which he carried easily in one paw.

The hares stepped from the shadows of the rock into the sunlight, the stranger

stood before them, pointing at the mountain.

"What do they call this place?" he asked.

The oldest of the hares, a male, answered him.

"Salamandastron, the place of the fire lizard."

The badger gave a huge sigh. Leaning against the rock, he rested his club on

the sand.

"I feel as if I've been here before," he said strangely.

The female hare produced victuals from within the cave entrance. "Rest awhile.

Eat and drink. I am called Breeze, and this is my brother Starbuck. What do

they call you?"

The badger smiled. He touched one of his headstripes, which was yellow rather

than white.

"Some call me Sunflash the Mace. I am the son of Bella and Barkstripe. I'm a

traveler."

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Starbuck nodded in satisfaction. "Your travelling is at an end, Sunflash, you

are the grandson of Boar the Fighter and great grandson of Old Lord Brocktree.

It is written on the walls of our mountain that you would come here someday.''

Sunflash straightened up. He stared hard at the hares.

"Written, you say. By whom?"

Breeze shrugged. "By whoever wrote that other hares will follow after us. That

is the way it has always been and always will be."

Both hares stood in the cave entrance. They bowed to the badger. "Welcome to

your mountain, Sunflash the Mace, Lord of Salaraandastron,"

The high sun above watched as the badger and the hares went together into the

mountain on the shores below.

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