The mousethief scratched his whiskers reflectively. “Now, let me see, where to begin. Since long before I was born the old tyrant Verdauga Greeneyes, Lord of the Thousand thingummies and so on, has ruled over Mossflower. One day long ago, he swept in here at the head of his army. They came down from the north, of course. The fortress must have been what attracted him. To woodlanders it was nothing but an old ruin that had always been there; Verdauga saw it differently, though. This was a place of plenty where he could settle, so he moved straight in, repaired it as best as he could, called the place Kotir and set himself up as a tyrant. There were none to oppose him; the woodlanders are peaceable creatures—they had never seen a full army of trained soldiers, nor wildcats. Verdauga could do just as he pleased, but he was clever: he allowed our creatures to live within his shadow and farm the land. Half of everything they produced was taken as a tax to feed him and his vermin.”

“Didn’t anyone fight back?” Martin interrupted.

Gonff nodded sadly. “Oh yes, even now there are old ones who are still too frightened to tell of how Verdauga and his cruel daughter put down the poorly organized rebellion. Those who were not massacred were thrown into this very prison and left to rot. I’m told my own parents were among them, but I don’t know the truth of it. When the rebellion was broken, Verdauga proved what a clever general he was. He actually made a kind of peace with the woodlanders. They were allowed to live within Kotir’s shadow and farm the land. He said he would protect us from further attacks by bands wandering down from the north. We were partly enslaved then and very much disorganized. Not having any proper fighting strength and with all the rebellious fighters out of the way, most creatures seemed just to accept their lot. Then last summer Verdauga became ill. Since he has been sick, he has left the running of the settlement to his daughter, Tsarmina. Unlike her father, she is cruel and evil. Woodlanders have been driven too hard out on the fields and not allowed enough to live on. Hedgehogs like Ben Stickle and his family dare not run away; where could they go, with young ones to care for? However, things became so bad that a lot of them took the chance and escaped from the settlement. As the numbers grew less, Tsarmina demanded more and more from the few. I tell you, matey, it’s a sad tale.”

They sat side by side, watching the shaft of sunlight striking the cell floor. Martin passed the wine to Gonff. “What do you know about the wildcat called Gingivere?”

Gonff took a sip of the wine and passed it back. “I know he never took part in any killing. Woodlanders always hoped that Verdauga would pass the reins to him. He’s supposed to be a good sort, for a wildcat, that is. Now you take the sister, Tsarmina. She is pure evil—they say that she is far more savage than Verdauga. I’ve heard the gossip around Kotir when I’ve been visiting here, matey—do you know, they say old Greeneyes is dead and his son in prison here, so that means Tsarmina must be the new ruler now.”