Brian Jacques - Mossflower

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