Tsarmina was in the mood for making examples.
The wildcat stood alone pondering a question: where had she seen that same
look of vengeance and fearlessness before? The mouse, that was it! She could
not even recall his name; anyhow, he probably hadn't lasted the winter down in
the cells.
Tsarmina watched a furtive figure coming across the parade ground, ducking and
weaving, flattening itself in the shadows. She snorted scornfully; it was only
Fortunata. "Frightened of a blind old eagle, vixen?"
"Milady, I was ducking the arrows and stones of your soldiers as they came
down, but that was a good shot of yours," Fortunata said in a fawning voice.
"A pity that the eagle caught it in midair."
The vixen jumped sharply to one side as Tsarmina fired an arrow from the
ferret's bow. It landed where her paw had been a moment before.
37
Tsarmina notched another arrow, her eyes glinting cruelly. "Right, let's see
what you're best at, fox—catching arrows or getting inside with a civil tongue
in your head."
She bent the bow back and giggled wickedly at the sight of Fortunata beating a
hopskip retreat.
Sooner or later the Queen of the Thousand Eyes had the final say in all
things.
Something rattled though the slit window above Martin and Gonff. In the
semigloom they groped about in the straw until Gonff found the object.
Martin could not conceal his disappointment. ' 'Goodness me, a stick. How
helpful. We could take this place single-pawed with a stick. What a useful
thing to send us."
It was not a stick. Gonff ignored his cellmate and set about undoing the thin
wire that bound the bark parchment to the slim blade. He unfolded the
parchment and moved into the light, where he read aloud the message it
contained.
Gonff.
Here are your tools. Leave by the woodland side of Kotir at the first light of
dawn. We will be waiting to cover for you.
Corim
Gonff laughed quietly as he destroyed the message. "This is what weVe been
waiting for, matey. Of course they don't know about you. The plan is only
supposed to cover my escape, but don't worry, we'll sort it out. The council
will be glad to have a real trained warrior on their side. Now, d'you see this
silly old bit of wire and this little knifeblade? Well, they're going to get
us out of here, matey. These are the tools of an honorable thief.''
Martin clasped Gonff's paw warmly. "I'm sorry, Gonff. All I did was stand here
making stupid remarks. You are the expert. From now on you have an assistant
who is willing to leam from your experience. In fact, you've got a real mate,
matey.'*
Gonff laughed and winced at the same time. "Righto, matey, the first lesson is
not to break the expert's paw by
38
crushing it 'cos you don't know your own strength. Let's settle down now. When
is the next guard patrol due?"
"In about an hour's time, regular as clockwork since I've been here. After
that, there'll be nobody by until two hours after dawn when they bring the
bread and water."
"Good, that gives us time for a little rest," Gonff said, stretching out
comfortably on the straw.
Martin lay down, willing himself to relax against the flood-tide of excitement
building inside him. Gonff played on his flute awhile, then he began singing
softly.
Pickalock pickalock, you'll regret the day,
When you took a mousethief and locked him away.
Sillycat, look at that, it's two for one,
The thief and the warrior
By dawn will be gone.
Martin lay with his eyes closed, listening. "Who taught you that song?"
Gonff shrugged as he packed his flute away. "Nobody. Songs just spring into my
head. Silly, isn't it. Sometimes old Goody Stickle says that it's Mossfiower
singing through me. Now and then she'll say it's a sight of seasons the sun
hasn't yet shone upon."
Martin savored the phrase as they lay in the straw.
"A sight of seasons the sun hasn't yet shone upon, eh. I like that, matey,
your friends sound like nice creatures."
Gonff chewed on a straw. "You'll like Goody Stickle. If I did have a mother
one time, then she couldn't be any nicer than Goody. Wait till you taste her
spring vegetable soup, or her oat and honey scones, piping hot and oozing
butter, or her apple and blackberry pudding with spices and fresh cream, or
just her new yellow cheese with hot oven bread and a stick of fresh celery,
aye, and a bowl of milk with nutmeg grated on top of it ..."
The straw slipped from Gonff's lips. Martin was glad that he had dozed off.
All that delicious mention of food had set his mouth watering like a stream.
He was positive that he would like Goody Stickle. In fact, she would never be
short of a constant admirer if her cooking was half as good as Gonff described
it.
39
It was still three hours to dawn as the rescue party headed by Amber and
Skipper left the Stickle dwelling. Goody pressed parcels of food upon them,
clucking worriedly, "Now I don't want to hear of anyone a-gettin' theirselves
catchered by those madcats. They'll eat you for sure."
Amber the squirrel Chief smiled as she hefted a pack of food. "Don't fret your
spines, Goody. We're more likely to be laid low by the amount of rations
you're making us take than by an enemy."
Skipper peeked inside his pack. "Marm, my old sturn-mick'd sink in a stream if
I ate half o' this. I'd be down at the bows for a week."
The small band of tough, capable woodlanders were paw-picked from Amber's
squirrel archers and Skipper's otter crew. They stood about checking weapons.
The otters twirled slings and selected stones, some of them balancing light
throwing javelins. The squirrels waxed bowstrings and belted on full quivers.
Ben Stickle remarked to his wife, "As fine a body o' woodlanders as I've seen.
Let's hope they can be of help to our little Gonff."
Ferdy and Coggs strolled out to join the band. The two small hedgehogs wore
cooking pot helmets and blanket cloaks, each carried a piece of firewood, and
they scowled in a warlike manner as they stood among the squirrels and otters.
40
The Skipper of otters clapped a paw to his brow and staggered about in mock
fright. "Strike me colors, if it ain't two bloodthirsty savages. One glance at
these two'd put a wildcat off his skilly an' duff for life!"
Ferdy and Coggs strutted about, tripping on their blankets but still managing
to maintain fierce grimaces. Concealing a smile, Lady Amber took the two
would-be warriors by their paws and positioned them outside the Stickle house.
She placed one on either side of the doorway, where they stood scowling and
stabbing the air with their firewood weapons. The otter and squirrel band
dutifully scowled back in recognition of two fellow fighters.
Skipper gave them a broad wink and waved his muscular tail for silence. "Belay
the gab and listen to me now. These here rough-lookin' coves has offered to
spill some blood V guts over at Kotir, but what I say is, leave the easy work
to us, we'll manage that. What we need is two ruffians who'll stop at nothin'
to patrol round this cottage and guard it while we're gone. I'll tell you
otters 'n' squirrels, 'tis hard and dangerous work, so I'll leave my packet of
tuck to keep you two villains alive while you're on watch here. That's if you
mink you can manage the job."
Ferdy and Coggs stood to attention, spikes bristling, cheeks puffed out with
authority, practically bursting with enthusiasm. They saluted officiously as