“My vision is still clouded by the mouse that wears armour, but I am not relying on dreams and visions; soon now I will think of an idea.”

“Kacha! Then think quickly, Mangiz, or the summer will be gone. When the brown leaves blow and the wind becomes cold, I want those earthcrawlers to be only a memory as I rule in my great redstone house.”

*   *   *

Foremole had wasted no time. He and his crew had tunnelled through from Cavern Hole to the grounds. They emerged by the west wall, poking their snouts out into the sunlight.

“Hurr hurr, you’m may’s well try an’ keep watter in a sieve as stop’n uz moles agoen whurr we do please.”

“Aye, Jarge, whyrr to naow?”

“Oi’m a-thinken us’d best tunnel to pool.”

“Burr, then to Miz Cornfl’er’s liddle ’ouse by yon gate.”

“Doant ee forget a noice deep’n to orchard.”

Soon a veritable network of tunnels was under construction.

*   *   *

Rollo was not too pleased. They had taken the big table for the barricade and now he had nowhere to camp. He soon cheered up when Ambrose Spike allowed him to help with the hammering and nailing of the barrier. Chairs and benches, cupboards and shelves, together with the large banqueting table, were placed across the bottom step of Cavern Hole. Ambrose and Winifred had given it a lot of thought. There were spaces to fire arrows through, slits for javelins and spears, plus a form that the defenders could stand upon to sling stones over the top at the enemy.

The Abbot and Sister May had done a thorough stocktaking of all food in the larders and drink in the wine cellar, and there was little danger of provision shortage.

Constance checked the weaponry. Besides the standard arms, there were lots of kitchen utensils that could double as fearsome implements of war. The badger brandished a copper-bottomed saucepan thoughtfully.

“What d’you think, Cornflower?”

“It would make quite a fetching war helmet for you, Constance.”

Brother Sedge snatched it from the badger. “D’you want Mossflower vegetable stew with dumplings or not?” he asked crossly.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you were planning to use that saucepan.”

“Here, take this rolling pin. It’ll make a useful club. And put that frying pan down, please. I’m cooking redcurrant pancakes with apple slices,” Brother Sedge told the badger indignantly.

“Oh, er, right! Is this pan all right to borrow?”

“Perfectly. Then I won’t have to make any hazelnut cream sauce to pour over my pancakes.”

Constance put the pan down quickly. “No hazelnut cream sauce, unthinkable! Brother Sedge, I’ve just had a splendid idea. Why don’t you invite the birds down to lunch and feed them to death. Hahaha!”

Brother Sedge picked up a ladle aggressively. “Are you insulting my cooking, badger?”