Mossflower - Part 7
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Part 7

"I don't know much about fightirT and spyin' but I still think it's a good idea. One thing I do know, me an my missus an our liddle family won't be goin' back to slave for no cat and her soldiers. We'd be as well off dead as havin' to do that again. But we'd all best listen to the good Abbess here. Let's not jump too hasty; war means creatures gettin' theyselves 78.

killed. If it must come to that, then so be it, but meanwhiles let's keep level heads about us, concentrate on safety for now. Aye, that an keepin' ourselves an' our families safe. I want to see my little ones grow to farm their own food and not have soldiers comin' around to tell us that our land is theirs an' takin' toll and tax of over half the vittles we have. That ain't fair nor right. Mind, though, weVe got time on our side. I know that Kotir larders must be run down considerable since we all left. Huh, the cat and her soldiers can march about all season, but there's no one left to order about and they ain't no farmers, that's sure. They'll starve without others to do their labor."

79.

The sun beat down on the soldiers of Kotir as they stood in serried ranks upon the parade ground. Each creature stood stiff as a ramrod, and all wore every available piece of equipment, including heavy spears, shields and full packs stuffed with rocks strapped to their backs.

Black tooth licked a drop of sweat that rolled past his lip. He muttered to Splitnose, "Huh, what's all this about? It was the Gloomer lost the battle, not us. As far as I can see, we didn't do too badly against those river wallopers and tree jumpers."

Splitnose twitched his eyelid against an inquisitive fly. "You're right there, Blackie. Sometimes I think I'd like to pack in all this soldierin' lark at Kotir."

Behind them in the next rank, Brogg could not resist a t.i.tter. "Heehee, just you try it, stoat. Where would you go on your own, eh? Nan, she'd have you dragged back and made an example of.' *

Scratt in the rank behind Brogg agreed. "Aye, you're right there, Brogg, but there's not many would pa.s.s up a chance of sliding off from here and starting up somewhere else. Perhaps we might form a little group sometime and try it."

Blacktooth was skeptical. "Oh yes? Let me tell you something, Scratt. That'd be worse than going off on your own, it'd be mutiny or ma.s.s desertion-and you know how Tsar-mina'd punish that little lot."

80.

Scratt knew only too well. "Death!"

Blacktooth chuckled humorlessly. "Right. Deader than a fallen log. Huh, you'd be glad to be so when she finished with you, bucko."

Cludd's heavy voice bellowed out across the parade ground, "Silence in the ranks! No talking back mere!"

Scratt muttered under his breath, "Oh dry up, s...o...b..r-chops. You weren't even out in the forest when we had to fight."

"No, he was back here with his nightie on, snoring like a dead dog," Splitnose sn.i.g.g.e.red.

"I won't tell you again. I said, silence in the ranks!"

From the rear of the army a complaining voice called out, **I reckon we've been stood here nearly two hours now. What for?"

Other voices began complaining before Cludd could silence them.

"Aye and why the full uniform and rock packs? Are we supposed to roast alive?"

"Pretty daft, if you ask me. I'm only a storeroom guard."

Tsarmina prowled silently out of the main door onto the sunlit parade ground. An immediate deafening silence fell overall.

She signaled to Cludd.

The Captain of the Guard bellowed to the sweating troops, "Tribute to the Queen followed by twelve circuits of the square at the double. Begin!"

With a loud shout, ferrets, stoats and weasels roared in unison.

"Tsarmina, Queen of Mossflower!"

* 'Slayer of enemies!''

"Lady of the Thousand Eyes!"

"Conqueror of all creatures!"

"Ruler of Kotir!"

"Daughter of Lord Greeneyes!"

Breaking off, they commenced running in a swift trot around the parade grounds, paws punished by the harsh gravel, muscles aching with the strain of the heavy packs and c.u.mbersome weapons.

Tsarmina watched impa.s.sively, remarking to Ashleg, 81.

"Daughter of Lord Greeneyes. Who said that was to be kept among my list of t.i.tles?"

Behind her back, Ashleg looked at Fortunata and shrugged.

The wildcat Queen stared fixedly ahead as her troops lumbered by on their second circuit. "Well, I'm still waiting for an answer. Who said that my troops should be shouting about my dead father instead of me? Am I not capable of ruling Kotir alone?"

Fortunata got in ahead of Ashleg. "There has never been a more capable ruler than you, MUady. On my oath as a healer, it was not I who arranged your t.i.tle list."

Tsarmina rubbed her injured paw thoughtfully. Behind her, Ashleg's wooden limb made nervous little shifting noises.

"What have you got to say for yourself, marten?"

"Your Majesty, I thought that-"

Tsarmina's snarl overrode Ashleg's nervous muttering. "Thought? Who gave you permission to think? Get out on that parade ground this instant!"

The unhappy Ashleg stumped out, knowing it was useless to plead or argue.

Tsarmina halted the march on its next circuit. They ground to a halt in front of the marten. She called out to Cludd, "Keep Ashleg in front of the army. First rank, point your spears at that marten. All of you, remember this: I am no longer called Daughter of Lord Greeneyes. That t.i.tle is dead. It will be replaced by the name Tsarmina the Magnificent."

At a wave of Cludd's spear the army chanted aloud,' 'Tsarmina the Magnificent!"

Ashleg looked around nervously. He was standing out in front of a rank of gleaming spearpoints, all pointed at his body. The marten gathered his cloak up, knowing the cruel command that was imminent. Tsarmina's snarl cut cross his thoughts. "At the double. Carry on!"

Fortunata stood to one side, knowing that a careless word could have placed her alongside the hapless marten.

Ashleg tried not to think. Desperately he dragged himself along in a frantic hop c.u.m hobble, in front of the lethal spears. Madly he tried to gain a little ground, only to realize that he was hard put to keep what lead he had from the relentlessly double-marching soldiers.

Tsarmina laughed mockingly and she dug Fortunata in the 82.

ribs. "Ha, thumpitty clump, eh, fox. How long d'you reckon he'll last?"

"Not long at that rate, MUady. Look at him trying to keep ahead of those spears. Ashleg mightn't be too bright, but at least he's obedient and loyal."

Tsarmina sighed moodily; her fun had been spoiled. "Hmm, you're right, I suppose. Tell Cludd to call a halt."

Fortunata waved a signal to the stolid weasel Captain. Cludd halted the troops at the very moment Ashleg fell face forward on the gravel, his tortured body unable to travel another pace. He was sobbing pitifully for breath.

Tsarmina prowled purposefully out in front of the ranks, ignoring Ashleg, who was dragging himself painfully toward the indoor coolness of the entrance hall. The wildcat Queen faced her command as they stood in the gravel dust with heaving chests.

"Look at you. See how you have grown fat and lazy, slugs, worms! As from today, all of this will change. Believe me, or die. Mice, two silly little mice, have escaped my prison. Together with a rabble of woodlanders, they have made fools of you all."

Nervous paws crunched the gravel as Tsarmina's fury and scorn lashed them.

"I'll take revenge for the insult to my majesty. Mossfiower will be drenched in the blood of any creature who will not obey me, whether it be a woodlander or a soldier of Kotir!"

Fortunata shuddered inwardly at the mad light that shone in Tsarmina's eyes as her voice rose in the sunlit stillness.

"Cludd, Ashleg, Fortunata, you will split the army four ways. Take a group each. I will stay here to guard Kotir with *flic remainder. You will go into the forest and hunt out every last woodlander. Take them prisoners. Any that resist, kill. Kotir will grow strong again with prisoners to serve it. We will enslave them. The flatlands to the west will be cultivated and farmed. My father was too soft with those creatures. They took advantage of his good nature in letting them live outside the walls in a settlement. That's what encouraged them to desert: too much freedom. Well, I'll tell you all right now, no more settlements. It'll be the cells for them this time; separate cells, punishment, that's what they'll be here ;for. We will hold their young as hostages. To stop any upris- ?' 83.

ing, they will toil from dawn to dusk-or their families will starve. Go now, and remember, this time there will be no failure."

There was a hurried clanking and stamping from the already armored and kitted troops. Orders were called amid wheeling and marching. In a short time Tsarmina stood alone on the empty parade ground, staring at a single fallen spear.

Whoever had dropped it would be far too scared to come back and retrieve it. She stooped and picked up the weapon as something whooshed by close overhead.

Argulor!

As big and powerful as she was, Tsarmina did not wait around to challenge the eagle. Taking a swift run, she vaulted through a ground-floor window, using the spear shaft as a pole. Peering out, she saw Argulor circle away to his perch, well out of arrow range.

The wildcat Queen was glad that no one had witnessed her retreat.

84.

Chibb the robin watched the little procession of woodlanders marching southward. He had no doubt that they were coming to visit him. They were carrying food. If they were not coming to see him, then what right did they have wandering about Mossfiower carrying bags of candied chestnuts? . He was different from other birds. For the sake of his little fat stomach, Chibb had overcome all barriers. Greed was the ooe motive that drove him to sell his spying skills to others- greed, tempered with wisdom. Chibb would never sell his services to Kotir, as he had narrowly escaped being eaten by weasels and such on more than one occasion.

The woodlanders used Chibb whenever they had cause to, Sometimes to locate a missing young one, more often than nott to find out what was going on in other parts of the forest. Chibb did not come cheaply, however. The fat robin had a fondness amounting to a pa.s.sion for candied chestnuts.

He watched the party below him: Martin, Lady Amber and a young Loamhedge mouse called Columbine were in the lead; Gonif and Billum the mole trailed behind, both carrying small barkcloth bags of candied chestnuts. Chibb could not take his bright eyes off the bag that Gonif was bouncing play-fully in his paws.

"Ha, candied chestnuts, eh, Billum. What's the good of giving these to old Chibb, just for a skinny bit of spyin'? 85 I'll bet me and you could scoff these between us and get their spyin' done for *em easy enough."

The trusty mole caught the bag in midair as Gonff tossed it. He crinkled his velvet face in a deep chuckle.

"Ho hurr hurr! Liddle wunner they send oi t'keep watch on 'ee, you'm a villyen, Maister Gonff. Keepen 'ee paws outten 'ee chesknutters, or oi tells Miz Bell offen 'ee."

Gonff threw up his paws in mock horror and ran to catch up with Martin, complaining aloud. "The nerve of Billum! Fancy not trusting honest old Gonff-me, that was sent on this mission specially to keep an eye out for greedy moles. I'll bet I end up getting scragged by you lot, trying to keep those chestnuts safe. There's no room for an honest thief these days."

Martin chuckled as he watched Columbine from the corner of his eye. The pretty young fieldmouse was laughing merrily, obviously taken by Gonff's roguish charm. Martin encouraged her by putting in the odd word or two on his friend's behalf.

"Be careful of that fellow, Columbine. He's not one of your Loamhedge order. If you don't watch Gonff, he'll steal the whiskers from under your nose."

Columbine's eyes went wide with amazement. "Would he really?"

Gonff winked at Martin. Cartwheeling suddenly, he shot across Columbine's path so close that he brushed by her face. With a squeak of shock she put up her paws. Martin shook his head seriously.

"You see, they don't call Gonff the Prince of Mouse-thieves for nothing. Have you counted your whiskers?"

Columbine put her paws up then dropped them smiling. "Oh really, you two!"

Gonff bowed and produced two thin strands. "What do you think these are, O wise beauty?"

Columbine's mouth fell open. "But, I didn't feel a thing."

Billum had caught up. He chuckled and scratched his snout. "Nor oi wagers you didden, missie. They whiskers is offen Gonff. Tha's 'ow you'm never feeled owt."

Lady Amber pointed at a long-dead elm covered in ivy. She held up her paw for silence. "Hush now. This is Chibb's 86.

*s home. We don't want to frighten him off. Gonff, you do the * talking."

Gonff rapped upon the trunk of the elm and shouted up toward a hole left by a broken branch, "Hey, Chibb! Come out, you old redbreast. It's me, Gonff."

There was no response, Gonff tried again. "Come on, matey. We know you're in there. What's up? Don't you want to earn some candied chestnuts?"

Billum opened one of the bags and selected a large nut.

**Harr, may'aps you'm roight, Gonffen. Us'ns could ate chesknutters an' do 'ee jobs ourselfs."

The mole popped the dark sugar-glazed nut into his mouth, licked the sweetness from his digging claws and chomped away with an expression of rapture on his homely face.

**Umff, gurr, oo arr, mmmmm!"

Much to Columbine's amus.e.m.e.nt, Gonff did likewise, imitating perfectly the mole speech and gesture.

*'Hurr, oo air, Billum, these yurr be fiirst-clarss chesknutters. Hoo arr, that they be."

They had eaten a nut apiece when a bout of nervous coughing erupted from the branches of a nearby rowan. "Err, harrumph, ahem hem!"

Chibb puffed out his chest importantly, ruffling his feathers to increase his stature. He paced a branch with wings folded behind him in a businesslike att.i.tude. Politely he cleared his . throat once more before speaking.

"Harrumph, ahem, 'scuse me. Let me warn you before we proceed any further, if anyone eats another nut I will judge it an insult, then of course you will have to take your business elsewhere, ahem."

"Please consider what I say before answering." Martin responded in an equally formal tone. ' 'I have been authorized to make you an offer. Here are our terms: you, Chibb, will 'Spy on Kotir and find out what plans are being made by Tsar- mina against the woodlanders of Mossflower. The Corim wish to know all details of any reprisals or attacks directed at our Creatures. For this you will be paid two bags of candied chest- nuts now and a further two bags upon bringing back your Information. Is that agreed?"

Chibb c.o.c.ked his head on one side. His bright eye watched 87.

Gonff as he picked crumbs of chestnut from his whiskers with his tongue. The robin coughed nervously.

Columbine had a.s.sessed the situation correctly. She interrupted in a more friendly tone. "Of course the nuts will be carefully counted, Mr. Chibb. The bags will be completely filled. I will see that four more nuts be added as an interest for the two that have just been eaten, and another four added as evidence of our good faith in your well-known skills."

Chibb shifted his claws and fixed Columbine with a quizzical stare. "Ahem, hem, you are the one from Loamhedge they call Columbine. I shall do business with you, harrumph, 'scuse me. These others are not required for our dealings."

Lady Amber breathed a sign of relief. Chibb could be incredibly pompous and stubborn; thank the fur for the good sense and initiative shown by Columbine.

The robin flew down and bowed courteously to the Loam-hedge mouse. "Aherrahem! There is, however, one small matter that may cost an extra nut or two ..."