Brian Jacques - Mossflower

Whump!

The whole roof shook. , Terrified, the troops fell flat.

Tsarmina dashed to the edge, in time to see a second boulder come whizzing

through the air like some giant shapeless bird.

Whoom!

It struck halfway up the wall. Masonry fell, splashing into the water from the

gap left by the striking missile.

As the roof shook under the impact of another boulder, the wildcat Queen

grasped the battlement, staring wildly across

the deep flooded area.

* * *

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Skipper patted the rough timber frame. "What do you call this thing again,

mate?"

Timballisto was helping squirrels and otters to lay the next boulder in the

cradle.

"A ballista, Skip. I built them in the wars up north many a time when I was

young. Great idea, isn't it?"

Skipper shook his head admiringly as the system of pulleys and counterweights

creaked under the winding handles, a long throwing arm fashioned from three

silver birches strained and bent against the brake lever.

"You're a cunning old wardog, Timballisto. Ha, a baby hedgehog could operate

this big catapult."

Young Dinny jumped up and down, clapping his paws. "Let oi do et. Oh, please

give thiz young mole a shot, zurr."

Timballisto shut one eye, sighting along the line the rock would take when it

was fired.

"Aye, why not? Be my guest, Young Din," he agreed.

The mole could hardly release the lever pin for chuckling. He threw himself

face down in the grass as the lever snapped back, the long arm pitched forward

as the rock shot away overhead.

"O joy, O arpiness! Whurr'd et go? Wot'd oi 'it?"

The watchers on the shore saw the tower shudder. A hole appeared as the rock

hit Kotir with tremendous force. Rubble and masonry showered into the water as

another gap was made.

A loud cheer went up from the woodlanders.

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Tsarmina turned from the battlements to give an order to her soldiers, but

they were gone. The roof was deserted.

Below in the water were foxes and weasels, ferrets, stoats and rats. Some were

swimming, others were hanging onto doors they had hacked off with their

weapons. Wooden window shutters, tables, benches, anything that could float

was being utilized by the fleeing army.

The rooftop shook from yet another assault by the siege catapult.

Brogg stood faithfully at the head of the stairs.

"You had better come down, Milady. The whole building is starting to crumble

inside. Hurry, before the stairways collapse," he advised.

Tsarmina turned left then right. She ran to the battlements, looked over and

ran back in agitation.

"You'll see, we'll win yet. It's that traitor brother of mine, Gingivere. He

must still be alive. A single mouse couldn't have thought all this up. I

should have killed them both and made sure they were dead when I had the

chance," she ranted.

Leaping the spaces where the stairs had been demolished, the Queen and her

Captain made their way to the high chamber. It was still intact. Beneath their

paws, Kotir rumbled and crumbled in its death throes. The whole place was be-

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ginning to disintegrate into the massive, rapidly rising lake which surrounded

it.

Brogg lifted a table and slid it out of the window. It did not have far to go

before it splashed into the water.

"Hurry, Milady. We can both make it out of here on the table!'*

Helped by Brogg, Tsarmina made an undignified scramble over the window ledge.

She lowered herself onto the upturned table. It rocked crazily in the water,

but stayed floating.

Brogg climbed up on the window ledge. "Hold it steady, Milady, closer to the

wall so that I can get on."

Tsarmina ignored the Captain. She pushed further along the wall until the

table was beyond Brogg*s reach.

"Milady, wait forme!"

"Don't be silly, Brogg." Tsarmina sounded almost condescending. "You can see

there's only room enough for your Queen on this thing. Two of us would sink

it."

The Captain scratched his head dully as if trying to understand.

"But, Your Majesty, what about me?"

Tsarmina pushed further along the wall. "Oh, you'll find something, Brogg. Get

ashore and regroup the army. I'm going to find that mouse warrior and my

brother Gingivere. Don't you worry, I'll make them pay for the loss of Kotir."

Tsarmina floated off round the sinking stronghold, propelling herself along

the walls by paw, to the other side, where there were no woodlanders.

Brogg crouched miserably on the window sill, trying to make up his mind which

surprised him more—the desertion of Tsarmina his Queen, or the arrival of a

huge ballista boulder which put an end to his bafflement forever.

It was a tranquil summer morning far to the east in Moss-flower. On the farm

the small creatures were out tending crops with Gingivere and Sandingomm. It

had become a second home for the young woodlanders who had made the trip to

this peaceful haven of refuge.

.Abbess Germaine and Columbine sat upon the riverbank together. Columbine was

busying herself with roots she was drying; it was a good area for medicinal

herbs and plants.

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Abbess had charcoal and parchments; she was drawing something. Columbine

watched from the corner of her eye. 5he remembered Loamhedge. The Abbess used

to draw a lot o those far-off days, often translating her thoughts onto

parchments which she kept in a journeying satchel—a thing she had not done

since their arrival at Brockhall.

Now the old mouse took up a dried reed. Using it as a straight edge, she

worked busily with her charcoal sticks, nibbing here, altering there, shading

and curving the lines dntil a clear outline of a great building began to

emerge. Germaine peered over the top of her spectacles as she worked,

Columbine smiled fondly at her.

"That's a fine big house, Abbess."

"I suppose you could call it a house, child. I've had this idea in my mind

since we left Loamhedge."

"Ah yes, poor old Loamhedge. I was just thinking about k myself. Perhaps we

could have built your big house there, -had we been able to stay," Columbine

suggested.

"No, that would not have been possible, Columbine. There was very little local

stone around the Loamhedge area."

Columbine put the roots aside and looked at the drawing with renewed interest.

"Then this great house is not just a dream. It could be built if we had the

right material and location, plus, of course, die creatures to build it."

Germaine nodded decisively, spreading the plans out be-tween them. "Oh yes,

indeed. Let me explain. This would not be a mere house. The building I am

planning will be a real Abbey for all our woodland friends who wish to live

there, a peaceful place where all would exist in happiness."

"How lovely. Tell me more about your Abbey," Columbine said excitedly.

The old Abbess explained eagerly, pleased to have Columbine showing interest

in her brainchild.

"See here, this is the outer wall, with its gatehouse, small wicket gates and

big main threshold. Here is the main building—bell tower, Great Hall,

kitchens, dormitories, infirmary, store rooms, cellar spaces ... I have

thought of everything that a proper Abbey needs. These areas around the large

building are enclosed within the main walls—they are orchards and fields to

grow crops in, a pond, and everything it

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would need to be self-supporting. This is a dream that could become reality if

Mossflower were freed."

Columbine gazed in wonder at the well-outlined plan. "You say it could become