Mossflower

instead of Son of Luke the Warrior. I left it as late as I could that autumn;

then there seemed no point in defending a cave and land just for myself. I

started to march south alone. Who knows how far I would have got if I hadn't

been stopped at Kotir."

Gonff stood up and stretched. "I'm glad you did stop here, matey. I'd hate to

be sitting in this cell talking to myself. I'd sooner talk to a warrior like

you."

Martin passed the wine back. "Aye, and I'd sooner be locked up with a thief

like yourself than wandering about alone, matey."

33

It was strange that at the very moment Gonff and Martin were discussing Corim,

the council of that name was talking of them. Ben Stickle's humble home was

crammed with woodland creatures, the largest of whom was a badger, Bella of

Brockhall. She presided over the meeting. Also present were the Skipper of

otters, Lady Amber the squirrel Chief, Ben Stickle and Billum, a dependable

mole who was deputizing for his leader. Seated by the fire, Beech the squirrel

answered council questions.

"Where did you see Gonif captured?" "Westerly, over near the fringe by Kotir."

"Whatever was Gonif doing to let himself get captured?" "Oh the usual,

skylarkin' and foolin' about." "You say it was two of Verdauga's soldiers."

"Aye, no doubt o' that. In uniform and carryin' spears." "Where were you when

all this took place, Beech?" "Sittin* up an old oak not far off." "Did you

hear what they said?"

"Heard 'em say they was takin* him off to Kotir, Of course, you know Gonff.

Treated it like a big joke, he did. No doubt they'll have wiped the silly grin

off his whiskers by now down in old Greeneyes' cells."

Lady Amber nodded at Beech. "Well done. Anything else to report?"

"No, marm. I followed them as far as I could, then I

34

spotted Argulor perched in a spruce. Couldn't say if he was awake, so I

decided to come back here, knowin' there was a gatherin' of Corim."

Ben Stickle winked at Beech. "Aye, it's late noon, too. There's a pot of

spring vegetable soup, cheese, and nutbread. D'you think you could manage

some, Beech?"

The squirrel winked back at Ben, bobbed his head respectfully to the Corim

leaders and was gone before further questions could be thought up.

Bella rubbed huge paws across her eyes and sat back with a grunt of despair.

"Well, here's another pretty pickle our mousethief has got himself into. Any

suggestions?"

Amber clucked disapprovingly. ' 'If I had my way, I 'd leave the silly

creature to stew his paws in Kotir awhile. That'd teach him a lesson."

There were murmurs of agreement.

The Skipper of otters whacked his rudderlike tail against the hearth. "Belay

that kind o' talk, mates. You all know that the little uns would have gone

hungry many a time, 'cept for the thief." Skipper gave a good-natured chuckle.

"That Gonff is my kind of mouse, a true messmate. A bit light of paw, but

good-hearted and an able-bodied shanty singer.''

Ben Stickle raised a paw. "I vote we rescue GonrT. We'd be ashamed to call

ourselves true woodlanders, leaving one of our own in Kotir prison."

Billum lifted a velvety paw. "Hurr, do moi vote count whoil gaffer Foremole's

not yurr?"

Bella thought for a moment while they all digested the meaning of the rustic

molespeech. "Of course, Billum. After all, you are Foremole's deputy and the

Corim respect your judgment as a sensible mole."

Billum squinted his round eyes with pleasure at the compliment.

By a show of paws the vote to rescue Gonff was unanimous. Then there was a

temporary respite for refreshment, while the assembly helped themselves to

bowls of Goodwife Stickle's famed spring vegetable soup, farls of warm

nutbread and ripe yellow cheese.

Lady Amber smiled fondly at two little hedgehogs who were trying to look very

fierce and brave, knowing that she

35

was always ready to recruit warriors into her band. She dealt with them as if

they were two bold squirrels.

"Shows me your paws. Hram, you'd probably make good climbers after some

training. You certainly look tough enough. Goody, are these two young villains

very strong?"

Goodwife put down her ladle and wiped her paws on her apron. "Ho my, yes.

Ferdy and Coggs are two of the strongest. Why, you wouldn't believe your eyes

if you saw these two a-gatherin* up all those great heavy dishes and washin'

pots. There's no two hogs more powerful."

Much smiling and winking was in evidence as Ferdy and Coggs gathered bowls,

grunting with exertion as they proved their strength by scouring a large

cauldron between them.

Buckling down to the business of Gonff, the Corim set about planning his

escape.

Argulor had returned to Mossflower. No creature could say why he had deserted

his mountain stronghold hi the far West; maybe it was that he enjoyed the

comfort of woodlands where prey was far more plentiful. Argulor was a golden

eagle of great age. He had grown too slow and short-sighted to pursue small

creatures, so staying within handy range of Kotir and Verdauga's troops suited

him. But the frightening strength and savagery of an eagle had not deserted

Argulor, and if the chance of a larger animal came his way he took it, with

curving talons and fierce hooked beak. Ferrets, rats, weasels and stoats made

good eating, and besides, there was a pine marten living in Kotir. Admittedly

it was a bit battered and bent, but Argulor had never tasted pine marten

before and was determined that one day he would do so. The eagle and the

wildcats had crossed trails many times over the years. Each had a healthy

respect for the other. With the exception of Tsarmina. Whenever Argulor was

sighted circling the sky over Kotir, Verdauga's daughter incited the soldiers

to fire arrows and throw stones at the great bird, offering rewards to the

creature that could bring him down. Argulor was not unduly worried by a mob of

vermin loosing missiles at him, as he could outdistance anything they chose to

throw. Sometimes he would hover on a thermal, slightly out of range, trying

with his failing eyesight to catch a glimpse of the de-

36

sired marten, or Tsarmina, whom he hated. Bright spring sunlight warmed his

wings as he wheeled above the fortress.

Ashleg cringed behind his wildcat mistress as she stood glaring upward at the

soaring eagle. "Shoot, you fools! Not over there, idiots! There, see, right

above your thick heads."

The soldiers continued firing without success. Tsarmina grabbed a particularly

slow ferret and cuffed him soundly about the head. Hurling the smarting

creature to one side, she picked up his bow and notched an arrow to the

string. Taking careful aim, she paused a moment as the eagle swooped lower.

Swiftly she loosed the barbed shaft with a powerful hiss of flighted feathers.

To the surprise of the watchers, Argulor wheeled to one side then shot upward

in pursuit of the arrow. Up he went until the shaft had reached its peak of

flight, then wheeling quickly inward the eagle caught the arrow in his talon

and contemptuously snapped it. Zooming downward, he flew low enough to stare

for a second at Tsarmina, then he beat the air with massive wing-strokes,

flying away into the blue yonder.

Tsarmina would have vented her rage upon Ashleg, but he had vanished inside

when he saw the eagle diving.

"Get out of my sight, you useless lot of buffoons!"

The soldiers followed Ashleg with all speed, each trying not to be last as