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*'Give it here and keep your spear on the mole, stick him if he moves." Blacktooth wound the rope round the travellers. Binding them together, he tugged the end to make sure it was tightly secured.
Picking up his spear, he strutted around them. "Ha, you're our prisoners now. You'll pay for breaking the laws of Kotir and leading us on a wild-goose chase. Be still!"
Splitnose was emptying the supply packs out. "Heehee. Look, apples, bread, cheese, mmfff. Pie!"
Blacktooth threw extra fuel on the fire and crammed food wolfishly into his mouth, while menacing them with his spear.
"Hey, this is more like it, Splittie," he enthused. "Come and get warm by the fire.''
Gonff winked at Martin and whispered, "Leave it to me, matey. I'll settle these two idiots."
Blacktooth yanked sharply on the rope's end. "No talking there. One more peep out of you and you'll be sorry, d'you hear me?"
Gonff shrugged as best as he could. "Don't worry, Captain. You've got us, all right. But please don't eat all our supplies, we'll have nothing left to keep alive on."
Splitnose threw an apple core at Gonff and bit into a cheese. "Ah, stop moaning, mouse. Look at us, weVe lived on one skinny crust and gra.s.s for the last few days. Mmmm, this is 168.
good cheese. Hey, a fruitcake! By the claw, that'll do for me."
"Come on greedyguts, half for me." Blacktooth prodded Splitnose with his spear.
"Get your own, fatbelly," Splitnose retorted.
"Why, you gluttonous worm!"
"Ouch! You keep that spearpoint away from me, rotten-gums." - "That's the stuff, matey," Gonff called out encouragingly. "You show him that stoats are the bosses."
Blacktooth was about to stab Gonff with his spear when Splitnose jabbed him in the bottom with his spearpoint.
Martin took Blacktooth's side. "Don't let him do that to you, ierret. Get him."
Dinny supported Splitnose. " 'Ee be nowt but a gurt bully. Jump on furret's tunnel, skoat."
Blacktooth cracked Splitnose across the head with his spearshaft. Splitnose retaliated by stabbing Blacktooth in the paw.
The three friends egged them on with loud shouts.
"YouVe got him now. Stab!"
"That's it. Keep him pinned down!"
"Get his throat with your teeth!"
"Shove him in the fire, quick!"
Filled with blind rage, the stoat and ferret battled all over the camp site, rolling through the fire, splas.h.i.+ng in the shallows, stumbling against the captives, oblivious of all except the desire to win.
"Grr, take that, stoatswine!"
"Aarghh, you won't push me around any more, ferret-face. Get this!"
Blacktooth fell, pierced by his opponent's spear. Splitnose backed off, dropping his spear, and stumbling further into the shallows. Blacktooth pulled himself upright and staggered toward his foe, spear held outright. Splitnose blundered into deeper water, unarmed, holding his paws out pleadingly.
"Blackie, no. I didn't mean it!"
The ferret tottered unsteadily into the water, lifted the spear to throw and fell dead into the shallows.
Splitnose kept backing off as if in a daze. "I didn't mean to, Blackie. Honest. You can have half the c-"
169.
Suddenly he was gone! All that remained was Blacktooth the ferret, face down in the shallows of the swirling stream.
The three friends had fallen over. They lay, bound, gazing at the water where Splitnose had been a moment before.
"Pitholes, matey, full of bottom mud," Gonff explained. "We'll have to remember that when we cross."
Dinny wriggled. "Us'H 'ave to set about thinken *ow to free usselfs."
Martin wrenched round to face Gonff. "Any ideas?"
The mousethief smiled in the darkness. "Stay still. I can reach my dagger. Didn't I ever tell you, matey, I'm a prince of escapers."
Martin felt the blade sawing at their bonds. "Aye, I seem to remember you saying something of the sort in the cells at Kotir, matey."
The ropes fell away under Gonff's keen blade. He stood upright.
"I was right that time too, if you remember," Gonff pointed out.
Dinny straightened up. "Hurr, tho' you'm 'ate to boast about et."
They took stock of the damage. Martin threw a trampled cheese to one side.
"Huh, they've ruined our supplies," he said with disgust. "Most of the food rolled into the water with them. Look, even the fish fell in the fire." He held up a smoking relic.
Gonff pushed Blacktooth's carca.s.s into the fast-flowing water. "It couldVe been worse, matey. At least we're alive."
Dinny blew on the embers, adding dry reeds and wood. "Ho aye, Marthen. Us'll make out awright, 'ee'll see."
170.
Fortunata followed a trail that led to a dead end. Some creature had skillfully covered most traces, but the vixen knew that there had been woodlanders here. The camouflagers had not been entirely successful in covering everything; there was still scent and the odd broken twig. She scratched about in the undergrowth, trying to reveal further clues.
"Lost something?"
The vixen was startled by the voice. She whirled around, attempting to discover its owner. All she saw was the silent woodland. Quite suddenly there was another fox standing alongside her.
"I said, have you lost something?" he repeated.
Fortunata weighed up the newcomer carefully. He was an old fox, patched gray and dusty brown, slim built and slightly stooped. But it was the eyes that caused her to shudder-weird, flat, s.h.i.+fting eyes. This was the most evil-looking of her species that the vixen had ever encountered.
"No, it's not something IVe lost," she said, trying to sound unconcerned. "Actually, I was merely pa.s.sing through here."
"Aye, me too. Maybe we can help each other," the old fox suggested.
"Yes, maybe we can. My name is Besomtail, the wandering healer, what are you 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 gra.s.s and drinking dew. Listen, Besomtail, maybe I can travel along as your a.s.sistant. I pa.s.sed 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 sn.i.g.g.e.red. "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 pa.s.sed 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 fis.h.i.+ng 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 tw.a.n.ged 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 sh.o.r.e.
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 rea.s.sured 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!"