wandering around a filthy evil jumble like this?"
The venerable grandsire of Young Dinny was too busy carrying out his own
research to answer. He sniffed the floor between paving cracks, tapped upon
walls, dug his claws into rotten beams, all the while muttering to himself,
"Burr, oi'm getten a feelen in moi diggen claws 'bout this yurr fort'ica-tion.
Oi'm bound to 'ave a sniff round yon cells."
Columbine went up to join the Abbess in Tsarmina's apartments. She could not
help noticing the vast difference between the luxurious trappings of the
Queen's quarters in contrast to the squalor of the barracks.
"Abbess, I think I'd sooner live wild in the woods than
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endure this dreadful place. Have you seen the way she treats her soldiers?"
The Abbess ran a thin paw over the tawdry hangings and stained rugs, which
Tsarmina had spoiled in her rages. "Yes, child. Now you know the difference
between the way these animals live in comparison to honest woodlanders."
Foremole had only one word to express his disgust: "Durt-bags!"
The Abbess looked pensive; an idea was forming in her mind.
"Columbine, this place is deserted. Why couldn't we take it?"
"Goodness, is this our peaceful Abbess speaking?" the young Loamhedge mouse
replied, with a twinkle in her eye. "Actually, I was thinking the same thing
myself earlier. The answer is that we are not warriors, and our forces are
split; the otters and squirrels are out in the woodlands. Besides, we would
find ourselves in the position of being unarmed and without food supplies. How
long could a little party like ours last out?"
The old mouse shook her head wonderingly. "Goodness, is this our little
Columbine speaking? Strategies, supplies, lack of weapons, divided forces . .
. Maybe you missed your true vocation, young maid. Perhaps you would have
fared better as an army commander. I bow to your superior military knowledge,
General Columbine."
The young mouse laughed heartily and curtsied.
Old Dinny came shuffling in. The Abbess noticed he was looking highly pleased
about something.
"Hullo, Old Din. My, my, youVe got a light in your eyes."
Columbine clapped her paws. "Oh, youVe found something. Do tell us, please!"
The old mole tapped a paw in his snout, winking broadly.
"Do you'ns foller oi now. Oi'll show 'ee a gurt new way outten thiz stink."
Mystified, they followed him. As they walked, they talked, and Old Dinny
imparted a plan to Columbine and the Abbess.
Lady Amber stood in the thickets with Barklad. Together they watched the east
gate.
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Amber tapped the ground impatiently. ' 'Where in the name of acorns have they
got to?"
"Shall I take a party in and bring 'em out, marm?" Bark-lad asked, noting her
anxiety.
Amber looked up to the high chamber window. "No, give it a little while yet.
But I tell you, Bark, I don't like hanging about this place. Look, they've not
even posted sentries or lookouts at the window. How are we supposed to let
them know if the cat and her troops are on their way back? Oh, where have they
got to?"
"Roight yurr be'ind 'ee, marm!"
Startled, the squirrel swung round. There was Foremole, the Abbess too, and
Columbine—everyone that had gone into Kotir, down to the last mole and mouse.
"By the fur, where did you lot spring from?"
Columbine stroked her friend's gray head. "It was Old Dinny—he found a secret
way out. We went beneath the cells. It's a sort of cavern with a lake in it.
We, or should I say Grandpa Dinny, found a moving slab, and underneath it was
a tunnel that traveled along for a while then went up. We followed it and came
up into a hollow oak stump—that one right behind you."
Lady Amber curled her tail in amazement. "Well, I'll be treebound!"
The Abbess gave a wry chuckle. "If we put your discovery together with Old
Dinny's plan, we may have a final solution to the problem of Kotir.''
Columbine could not help interrupting. "I'll bet Gonff, Young Dinny and Martin
will have the solution too when they return from their quest with Boar the
Fighter."
"No doubt they will, child," the Abbess nodded. "But they have been long gone.
Who knows when they will return. Bella has said that it is a long journey
fraught witfi danger. Besides, how do we know that Boar the Fighter still
lives? I do not wish to alarm you by saying this, but, all things being equal,
we must have plans of our own. Merely sitting waiting on Boar's return will
not help Mossflower; we must all act to the best of our abilities. Wherever
your Gonff is at this moment with Martin and the young mole, you can wager
that they will be giving of their utmost. Let us hope that they will be both
safe and successful in their quest."
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They made their way back to Brockhall that fine spring noon, unaware that they
were passing on a parallel course to Tsarmina and her returning army.
The wildcat Queen was in a foul temper. "I wouldn't give a pawful of mouldy
bread for the lot of you, standing gawping while your Captain gets slain by an
otter."
From somewhere in the jumbled ranks a voice murmured impudently, "Huh, I
noticed you didn't leap forward to help Cludd."
Tsarmina whirled on the troops in a fury. "Just let me catch the one who said
that! You bunch of buffoons couldn't even get a single arrow off at that
badger. Oh no, you stood there like a load of frogs catching flies."
As she turned to press on, the voice continued muttering, "Well, youVe got the
biggest bow. Why didn't you use it?"
Tsarmina grabbed her unstrung bow from the pine marten and flailed
indiscriminately about her.
"Ashleg, I want that cheeky beggar found," she shrieked.
**Ita the Queen, d'you hear? I'll make an example of whoever it is."
The pine marten dropped back. Marching at the rear, he bobbed up and down to
see if he could catch the cheeky one unawares.
When the army straggled wearily back into Kotir at midday, Tsarmina's temper
had not improved.
"Ashleg," she commanded. "Dismiss this load of nincompoops. Send them to their
barracks. I'll be up in my chambers."
Ashleg was stumping his way round to the front when the voice was heard again.
*'Oh, that's nice, lads. Wish I had comfy chambers instead of a damp
barracks.''
Tsarmina turned to confront the sea of blank faces, but she stifled her reply
and contented herself by elbowing her way savagely through the ranks to the
main door.
*'Dinny, I was thinking—could you burrow upward through the side of this
cave?"
The mole tested the walls with his digging claws.
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"Loik as not, Marthen. But 'ee'd need diggen claws loik oi to foller upp'ard
if we'n all t'get outten 'ere."
Martin patted his friend's velvety back. "Good mole, Din. We only need you to
reach the surface, then you can lower something down so we can all climb out."
Dinny wiped his paws. "Stan' outten this yurr mole's way. Yurrgooi!"
With a mole's undoubted digging skills, Dinny was soon burrowing inward and
upward.
Martin reported the plan to Snakefish as Log-a-Log and Gonff backpawed the
freshly dug earth out of the way into the pit below.
Night and day were of little consequence in the misty world of the marshes.
The toads had lingered awhile on the edge of Screamhole, but there was little
to see, and their enjoyment was marred by the fact that no screams issued from
the well. One by one they drifted off, back to the Court of Marshgreen.
Deathcoil and Whipscale stayed, however. They sat by the Screamhole, waiting