Brian Jacques - Mossflower

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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

341

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

342

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?"

343

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,

344

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."

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