Brian Jacques - Mossflower

158

"Ooh aahh. Hey, Blackie, doesn't this mud feel great when you squelch it with

your paws?" Splitnose called.

"Aye, 'specially after all that running, mate. Just watch this." Blacktooth

flung his spear. It fell far short of the tar-

Splitnose laughed scornfully, then threw his. It went a little further, but

still far short of the swan.

Scratch sneered contemptuously at their efforts. "Huh, you two couldn't throw

a frozen worm and hit the earth. Go and get some stones to fling at her. I can

probably wade out that fer and stab the bird."

The ferret and the stoat waded back to the bank, and ran off to search for

missiles.

Scratch ventured recklessly on until the water was around . his middle. There

was a crackle of parting rushes behind him. Scratch turned in the water. The

giant male swan blotted out everything in his vision; he did not even get a

chance to cry out or lift his spear.

Scratch was dead before he knew it!

Splitnose and Blacktooth returned to the water's edge, their paws full of

rocks and earth clods.

"How'11 this little lot do, Scratch?"

"Scratch, where are you?"

"Scratchy-watchy, you old frogwalloper, come out. We know you're hiding, we

can see the rushes moving."

The male swan came thundering out of the rushes in half-flight, churning up a

bow wave as it hissed like a nest of serpents.

' * Yooooaaaaggggghhhh!''

Only the speed of raw terror and the fact that they were .racing away from the

pond and its nest saved the lives of the panic-stricken pair.

"Owoowoowoo helpelpelp!"

The male swan webbed its way up onto the bank, beating its wings wide to the

blue sky, hissing out its victory cry—a savage challenge to the distant

runners.

The female settled securely on her babes in the nest. She j-preened her neck

feathers, smiling with just a touch of smug-Bess. Swans never laugh aloud.

K

* * *

159

Though they were a fair distance from the pond, Martin and his friends heard

the anguished shouts on the breeze.

"Sounds like our followers from Kotir have ruffled someone's feathers, eh,

Din," Martin remarked. The mole looked grave. "Skwons etted 'em, oi uxpect."

Gonff placed a paw on his heart and sang slowly,

A weasel, ferret and a stoat, Found a pond but had no boat. Now they can't see

the waters from The inside of a swan.

Tsarmina stood at her high window, watching the squirrels. They had descended

from the trees at the woodland edge. With them were two small hedgehogs clad

in cooking-pot helmets and blanket cloaks.

Fortunata rapped lightly at the chamber door and entered.

"Milady, oh, you've already seen them."

Tsarmina did not even turn to look at Fortunata. She continued peering

intently at the two little figures in the middle of the squirrel group.

"Are they taunting us, do you think?" she asked.

Fortunata joined her at the window. "No, woodlanders don't go in for that sort

of display, Milady."

To her surprise, Fortunata found Tsarmina patting her approvingly. "Good

thinking, fox. Shall I send out a party to try and capture them?"

Fortunata shook her head. "I'd advise against it, Milady. They'd only sweep

off into the trees, making our soldiers look foolish. Squirrels always do."

Tsarmina smiled. She sat up on the window ledge, winking at the vixen.

"Clever, very clever, Fortunata. You aren't as dull or slow-witted as Cludd

and Ashleg. Listen how, I have better eyesight than you or any creature in

Mossflower. I Ve been watching those two little hedgehogs, and there's

something not quite right about them."

"Not quite right, Milady?" Fortunata was baffled, but she tried her best to

look intelligent.

Tsarmina tapped a paw to her nose. "Exactly. They're playing little games with

me, those woodlanders. But I have a game or two of my own to play. Tell me,

you know these

160

woods and their creatures better than anyone in Kotir, don't you?"

Fortunata was pleased that Tsarmina was confiding in her, but she began to

feel uneasy. There was often an unpleasant sting in the tail of her Queen's

schemes.

"I was bom and brought up in Mossflower country, Milady. What is it that you

require from me?"

"Fortunata, we are surrounded by blunderers." Tsar-mina's tone was that of an

old and trusting friend. "You are the only one I can really rely on. I never

forget those who serve me well. I haven't forgotten that you helped me to be

Queen with your knowledge of herbs. This is a big area to rule, and it becomes

lonely. I could do with someone as wise and clever as yourself to share that

rule. But first I am going to ask you to do me a favor. Think carefully before

you answer, because on that answer rests our friendship. Will you do me this

favor?"

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

Tsarmina."

The wildcat ruler smiled like a cat with a bird. "Well said, friend. Now, what

I want you to do is this . . ."

161

The Corim were startled.

Skipper strolled into Brockhall followed by a ferret. Before Lady Amber could

fit arrow to bow, or Bella pick up a poker to strike the foe, Skipper

addressed them heartily.

"Mates, don't get your ropes in a tangle. This 'ere ferret is an otter. Meet

my brother, the Mask."

The Mask bowed low. Stripping the bindings from his ears, he removed the bark

slivers that sharpened his muzzle, pulled out the wicked eyeteeth and undid

his imitation tail.

Bella pounded the sides of her chair with a heavy paw. "Wonderful, he is

indeed an otter. Welcome to Brockhall, Mr. Mask."

Abbess Germaine seated the otter, placing food and drink before him. "So you

are the Mask. I have lived long and seen strange things, but never one as

strange as you, though I hope you will forgive me for saying so, sir."

Mask shook the Abbess warmly by the paw. "It is a strange world marm, you will

forgive me saying, but never have I seen such friendly and gentle mice as you

and your oddly dressed followers."

Skipper patted Mask on the back. "Friends, you wouldn't believe your eyes if

you saw old Mask in some of the getups I've seen him in."

"Oh, tell us, Skip." Columbine leaned forward eagerly.

Skipper took a draught of cider from Mask's cup. "I

162

couldn't begin to tell you all this one's disguises, but just as an instance,

he gave me the slip coming through the forest. i looked high and low for him.

Ha, there was the old deceiver stood right next to me, up against a tree, got

up as a piece of bark, would you believe!"

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

otter.

"Did you really, Mr. Mask, sir?" Spike asked.

Mask chuckled as he fed them a slice of apple each. "Oh,

- aye. That's an easy one. All you need is an old piece of bark as big as

yourself and the right tree. You just stand there and think the same thoughts

as the tree, and presto!"

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

"Oh, a fox, a squirrel, a hedgehog like you, even—you name it. Haha, otters

are pretty hard to do, though. Funny tails, you see."

"Could you be a bird?" Spike inquired.

"Well, er, let's say I'm practicing that one, shall we?"

"A stoat or a rat, then?" Posy persisted.

"No trouble. They're the easiest to do. It's all a question of studying shape,

really."

Abbess Germaine was impressed. "You say you could look like a stoat, weasel or

even a fox?"