Brian Jacques - Mossflower

reality?"

"Oh yes." The old Abbess nodded emphatically. "When we first saw Kotir I

noticed that though the stones were darkened and slime-covered, it had been

built of red sandstone. There are outcrops of it all over the Mossflower area.

Yesterday I crossed the River Moss on a log, and there is an old quarry over

there. We could hew an endless supply of good stone from it."

"A beautiful dream Abbess, maybe someday—"

"Abbess, Columbine, hurry up, we've made you a lovely cheese and apple salad,

but Coggs says he'll eat it all unless you come right away," Spike said

breathlessly as he and Posy dashed up. Sandingomm followed, looking

mock-seriously at the two mice.

"I think you'd better do as they say, Abbess. I'll go and get Uncle Gingivere.

We don't want him to miss his salad because of that fat little Coggs."

Germaine allowed Spike and Posy to help her up.

"Cheese and apple salad—my favorite," she told them. "Lead me to it. I'll show

that wretch Coggs a thing or two about putting salad away. Did I ever tell

you, when I was a young mouse long ago, I once ate three great bowls of cheese

and apple salad at a sitting?"

"Oh, hahaha. Then why aren't you tat like Coggs? He says he's not going to

stop eating until he's twice the size of Skipper."

"What d'you mean, twice the size? My goodness, look at you, young Posy. You'll

be bursting out of your fur soon."

"Hahaha. Oh, stoppit, Abbess. That tickles. Haha-heeheehee!"

The first Kotir soldiers were hauled dripping to shore by the woodlanders.

Dispirited, disarmed and soaking wet, they were made to sit at the water's

edge by Skipper and the six hares, who fished them out with fearsome-looking

pikes. "Sit down there, you great wet weasel." "Steady on, Trubbs old chap,

that's a stoat." "Oh, I say, sorry. Sit there, you soaking stoat."

354

"Saturated stoat, don't you mean, old bean?"

"Hmm, what about the weasels?"

"Oh, actually they got wringing wet, both begin with W, you see."

"Righto. Sit over there, you wringing wet weasel."

"Oh golly, IVe got a rat now. How d'you address these blighters?"

; "Easy, old thing—rats are rancid." ~ "Rancid? That doesn't mean wet."

"No, but the wretched cove does look pretty rancid."

"So he does. Splendid. Sit here, you rancid rat!"

Skipper patrolled the ranks of defeated troops and eyed them sternly.

"Sit tight, vermin," he said sternly. "Keep your paws on your heads, where I

can see them. First one to make a funny move goes straight back into that

water on the end of a pike. Understood?''

Young Dinny and Ben Stickle fed them bread and milk.

"Here you blaggards, eat this and drink up. Though the way you've behaved

toward us, we shouldn't be giving you anything."

"Hurr, too roight. Oi'd give' 'ee ditchwatter an' frogtails ifn oi 'ad moi

way."

A weasel tried to snatch the bread from a stoat. Dinny cuffed him soundly

round the ears with blunt digging claws. "None o' that yurr, please, or oi'll

sett 'ee atop o' yon cat-tingpult an' shoot 'ee into middle of 'ee lake," he

threatened.

There was no fight left in the vanquished Kotir troops. Most of them looked

grateful to be fed and treated civilly by their captors. Lady Amber and her

archers sat in low boughs, bows and arrows ready in the event of an uprising.

Martin was otherwise engaged. He made his way further along the bank, away

from the bustle and noise. Standing at the north edge of the lake, he watched

Tsarmina's progress in silence. The wildcat Queen was obviously making her

escape bid, leaving her army to its fate. She paddled between Kotir and the

shore, whilst behind her the fortress crumbled and splashed into the water

under the ballista's constant bat-

355

tering. The wildcat Queen floated steadily toward land on the upturned table.

Martin drew his sword. "Boar the Fighter, help me this day," he whispered,

remembering its maker. Then the warrior mouse limped along the shoreline as

fast as his injured limb would permit, on his way to intercept the enemy.

Tsarmina paddled in to land and sprang ashore. Ignoring the activity on the

east side, she stared miserably at Kotir. There was no further need of rock

missiles; the flood had done its work. With a rumbling crash, the last of the

roof caved in. The whole structure disintegrated, splashing into the great

lake. There was a boiling of muddy brown bubbles, then the lake surface went

still under the gray midday sky, rippled only by the soughing wind.

Kotir was gone from sight forever!

Tsarmina threw back her head in an anguished yowl and ran to the water's edge,

drawing back swiftly as the wetness touched her paws.

"I have kept my promise to you, cat. Kotir has fallen!" A stern voice called

out from behind her.

The wildcat Queen froze, fearing to turn around.

"Gingivere, is that you?"

Martin strode to the water's edge and stood a short distance from his mortal

enemy.

"I am Martin the Warrior, son of Luke, friend of Boar the Fighter."

Tsarmina turned to face her foe. "So, it is you. Well, my little warrior,

where are your woodland allies? Not here to help you?"

Martin leaned upon his sword. Now that the moment had arrived he felt only

contempt. "Tsarmina, you are the Queen of an underwater fortress, Ruler of the

fishes.'' His voice had a mocking ring to it. "Cat, you are scum, floated

ashore on an upturned kitchen table, nothing more!"

Stung by the scathing insult, Tsarmina gave a scream of rage, and dived

straight upon Martin. Digging her claws into his back, she gave a mad yell of

triumph, which was swiftly followed by a howl of pain as the keen blade

slashed her ribs to the bone.

Martin winced as he swung his sword. Feeling Tsarmina's

356

claws pull free of his back, he stabbed furiously at the great furred bulk of

the wildcat. She leaped back a pace.

Maddened by the same berserk rage that had driven Boar onward, Martin hurled

himself upon the surprised wildcat.

This time Tsarmina took two thrusts in the flank before she raked the

warrior's face savagely with vicious claws. The helmet was torn from Martin's

head, armor flapped loose as Tsarmina disentangled herself, but he managed to

pierce her paw right through.

They crouched panting for a moment, both sorely wounded. Then Martin dashed

the blood from his vision, and with a bellow of rage he charged the wildcat.

This time she was ready. Tsarmina nimbly sidestepped, cruelly striking

Martin's back as he plunged by, opening further the wounds she had already

inflicted.

The warrior mouse fell heavily upon his face and lay still. Tsarmina licked

her wounds, chuckling evilly. She had finally finished her enemy off.

Then Martin stirred.

Shaking himself, he stood upright. Gripping his battle blade with both paws,

the warrior went headlong at Tsarmina.

Despite the shock at her opponent's recovery, Tsarmina swiftly gathered her

wits, sidestepping once more.

This time Martin sidestepped with her, striking a mighty blow to her back.

The wildcat Queen screamed in agony, rounding suddenly on him. Paw grasped

claw, teeth bit fur; kicking, scratching, gouging and stabbing, they rolled

over and over on the bank in a shower of flying earth.

Tsarmina freed herself, leaving Martin prone on the ground. Once more she

backed off licking her wounds.

"Got you that time, woodlander!" she crowed.

Digging his blade into the earth, Martin heaved himself up, breathing