Brian Jacques - Mossflower

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.

333

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!"

334

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."

335

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

336

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