Brian Jacques - Mossflower

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.

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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?"

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"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.

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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—"