“How lovely. Tell me more about your Abbey,” Columbine said excitedly.

The old Abbess explained eagerly, pleased to have Columbine showing interest in her brainchild.

“See here, this is the outer wall, with its gatehouse, small wicket gates and big main threshold. Here is the main building—bell tower, Great Hall, kitchens, dormitories, infirmary, store rooms, cellar spaces . . . I have thought of everything that a proper Abbey needs. These areas around the large building are enclosed within the main walls—they are orchards and fields to grow crops in, a pond, and everything it would need to be self-supporting. This is a dream that could become reality if Mossflower were freed.”

Columbine gazed in wonder at the well-outlined plan. “You say it could become reality?”

“Oh yes.” The old Abbess nodded emphatically. “When we first saw Kotir I noticed that though the stones were darkened and slime-covered, it had been built of red sandstone. There are outcrops of it all over the Mossflower area. Yesterday I crossed the River Moss on a log, and there is an old quarry over there. We could hew an endless supply of good stone from it.”

“A beautiful dream Abbess, maybe someday—”

“Abbess, Columbine, hurry up, we’ve made you a lovely cheese and apple salad, but Coggs says he’ll eat it all unless you come right away,” Spike said breathlessly as he and Posy dashed up. Sandingomm followed, looking mock-seriously at the two mice.

“I think you’d better do as they say, Abbess. I’ll go and get Uncle Gingivere. We don’t want him to miss his salad because of that fat little Coggs.”

Germaine allowed Spike and Posy to help her up.

“Cheese and apple salad—my favorite,” she told them. “Lead me to it. I’ll show that wretch Coggs a thing or two about putting salad away. Did I ever tell you, when I was a young mouse long ago, I once ate three great bowls of cheese and apple salad at a sitting?”

“Oh, hahaha. Then why aren’t you fat like Coggs? He says he’s not going to stop eating until he’s twice the size of Skipper.”

“What d’you mean, twice the size? My goodness, look at you, young Posy. You’ll be bursting out of your fur soon.”

“Hahaha. Oh, stoppit, Abbess. That tickles. Hahaheeheehee!”

* * *

The first Kotir soldiers were hauled dripping to shore by the woodlanders. Dispirited, disarmed and soaking wet, they were made to sit at the water’s edge by Skipper and the six hares, who fished them out with fearsome-looking pikes.

“Sit down there, you great wet weasel.”

“Steady on, Trubbs old chap, that’s a stoat.”

“Oh, I say, sorry. Sit there, you soaking stoat.”

“Saturated stoat, don’t you mean, old bean?”

“Hmm, what about the weasels?”

“Oh, actually they get wringing wet, both begin with W, you see.”

“Righto. Sit over there, you wringing wet weasel.”

“Oh golly, I’ve got a rat now. How d’you address these blighters?”

“Easy, old thing—rats are rancid.”

“Rancid? That doesn’t mean wet.”