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’ication. 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 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: “Durtbags!”

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, you’ve got a light in your eye.”

Columbine clapped her paws. “Oh, you’ve found something. Do tell us, please!”

The old mole tapped a paw to 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.

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?” Barklad 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?”