called?" Fortunata asked.
"I'm Patchcoat. I come from far away to the east," he replied.
171
Fortunata nodded. He certainly looked like a patched coat. "Well, I come from
the ... er, southwest. Maybe that's why we've never met. I'm really hungry,
though, Patchcoat. I expect you've seen tracks around here. Maybe there's a
camp of woodlanders nearby. They usually give me food in return for my healing
skills."
Patchcoat rubbed his lean stomach. "Aye, I'm hungry too. There's not much
future in eating grass and drinking dew. Listen, Besomtail, maybe I can travel
along as your assistant. I passed a place earlier today that might be just
what we're looking for."
Fortunata's ears stood up. "You did? Where?"
The strange fox waved a paw. "Oh, round and about, you know. I didn't stop
because those woodlanders always drive me off, for some reason. Huh, you'd
think I was out to steal their young. It looked like a well-stocked hideaway.
I expect I could find it again."
"I can't blame them driving you off, friend Patchcoat," Fortunata sniggered.
"You certainly don't look anything like a baby fieldmouse on posy day.''
Patchcoat threw back his head and laughed wickedly. "Ha-haha, look at
yourself, you raggedy-bottomed tramp. Any honest woodlander would run a mile
from you. Let's join forces. Come on, how about it? You won't find the place
without me."
Fortunata rubbed her whiskers as if she was giving the matter some earnest
thought. Finally she thrust out a paw. "All right, Patchcoat," she agreed.
"We'd better stick together, I suppose. Shake paws, fox."
"Aye. Shake paws, fox."
Left paw met left paw as they intoned the ritual of villains,
Shake paws, count your claws. You steal mine, I'll borrow yours. Watch my
whiskers, check both ears. Robber foxes have no fears.
Ben Stickle was observing the scene from the cover of a humped loam bank. He
scurried off to report to the Corim that the Mask, alias Patchcoat, had made
contact with Fortunata, alias Besomtail.
172
The Mask would lead Fortunata a merry dance through £ Mossftower before
evening fell over the woodlands.
V
It was mid-afternoon when Chibb left the cell window at Kotir. Gingivere sat
in the straw with his two little friends, patiently explaining the message
sent by the Corim.
"Now, if a ferret looks like a ferret, or a stoat like a stoat, or a weasel
looks like a weasel, don't trust them. But if a fox that looks like a fox says
that his name is Mask and he's been sent by the Corim, we must do exactly as
he says, quickly and without question."
Ferdy scratched his spiky head. "Supposing it's a stoat that looks like a
weasel with a ferret's nose and a fox's tail, Mr. Gingivere?"
Gingivere pushed him playfully backward into the straw. "Then don't trust him,
even if it's a Ferdy that looks like a Coggs with a Gingivere's fur, you
little rascal. Hush now, there's somebody coming. I 'd better get you back
into your bags. *'
Two weasel guards passed along the corridor, chatting animatedly.
"So what did the foraging party bring back?" "Not a single acorn. The Queen's
not too happy, either." "Well, that's only to be expected." "Aye, but it made
things worse when Cludd reported that one of our soldiers had been taken by
that big old eagle." I, "Who was it?*' • "A stoat, they say." !:
"Ah well, as long as it wasn't a weasel." '• "Aye. Can't stand stoats
myself. Nasty sly creatures."
"Right. Not like us, mate. Anyhow, I'll bet if the eagle at-\ tacked one of
our lads he 'd weasel his way out of it somehow. *' t "Hahaha. That's a good
one. Weasel his way out of it!"
':'
X The waters of the fast-flowing stream glittered in the after-fi noon sun.
All day the three travelers had wandered along the I bank, looking for a
shallow fording place. Martin gazed up at the mountains. They were much closer
now. He could see the green of vegetation at the base changing to basalt and
slate-colored rock which soared upward to snow-covered peaks that seemed to
support the sky like mythical columns. Gonff was singing as he trailed his
fishing line along.
173
O the day is fair and blue, The mountains He ahead. Companions good and true,
Our enemies are dead. I 'm longing for the day, O for that happy time, When
I'll return to say, Sweet Columbine, you're mine.
As they trekked, Young Dinny dug up edible plants and roots to add to their
supplies.
Martin sighted a bend ahead with steep sloping banks. "Come on, mates. The
stream looks narrower there. Perhaps there's a way to cross."
He was right; just around the bend was a sight that gladdened their hearts.
A rope stretched across the water, attached at either end by a deep stake
driven into the earth. On the opposite bank a white willow trunk lay in the
shallows. GonfF twanged the tautened fibers of the rope.
"It's a ferry, mateys," he told them. "See on the other bank? Pity it isn't on
mis side of the water. Never mind, even if it means getting wet we'll cross on
this rope."
Two pairs of unwinking eyes watched them from behind the log on the opposite
shore.
Martin waded into the river, holding the rope as a guideline.
"Come on, it's not too bad," he called. "Stay on this side of the rope, then
the current won't sweep you downstream."
Dinny and GonfF followed his example. The going was not too difficult. Paw by
paw, they began pulling themselves through the stream. Halfway across, it
deepened. They were floating now, but still going forward, aided by the rope.
A shout rang out from the far bank, "Stop right there, strangers!"
A snake and a lizard emerged from behind the willow trunk.
"Looks like trouble, eh, Din," GonfF whispered.
Martin ignored the warning, continuing to pull himself forward.
Dinny called out a friendly hail. "Goo' day to 'ee. Us'n's on'y a crossen, no
need t'be afeared."
The snake reared up, flickering a slim tongue. "Hssss. No-174
body crosses without paying us. I'm Deathcoil and this is Whip-scale. We are
the ford guardians. Pay us, or pay with your lives."
Gonflf caught up with Martin. "I don't like the look of those two. Has that
snake got adder markings?"
Martin's warrior nature rose. Tightening his grip on the rope with one paw, he
unslung the broken sword from around his neck.
"Looks a bit skinny and undersized to be a true adder, Gonff," he reassured
his friend. "I'm pretty certain that the other one is only some kind of newt.
Leave it to me. We'll soon find out."
It was now apparent to the ford guardians that the travelers were coming
across.
"WhatVe you got for us?" the lizard asked, his voice harsh and aggressive.
"Come on, move yourselves. Up on the bank here, and empty those packs out.
Quick, now!"
Martin's fece was grim. "Listen, you two. You dont frighten us. We're
travelers and we aren't carrying anything of value, but we'll fight if we nave
to, so you'd better stand clear."
The snake lowered his head onto the rope, glaring wickedly at them. "Hsss,
fools, one bite from my fangs means death. If you have no valuables, then go
back and get some-tiling to pay our toll with."
Martin yanked down on the taut rope, letting it go with a twang. The line
sprang upward, vibrating. The snake was hammered on the lower jaw several
times before he was tossed flat on the bank. "How's that for starters, worm,"
GonfF laughed. "Stand up straight, and I'll give you a taste of my dagger when