Clinging to the rocks in midstream, Lousewort and forty-odd trackers struggled to keep their chins up above water,
sobbing and cursing as the cold numbed their limbs and the icy flow threatened to sweep them away. Already some of
their number, the weaker ones, had been drowned by others trampling diem under in their efforts to stay alive.
Two Rapmark Captains sat hunched in sleep over a small fire on the bank. A ferret ground his chattering teeth as
he glared in their direction. “Look at ’em, snoozin’ all nice’n’warm there, while we’re freezin’ an’ drownin’ out ’ere. It
ain’t right, I tell yer!”
Lousewort hugged a weed-covered nub of rock, coughing water from both nostrils miserably. “Er, er, mebbe
they’ll let us come ashore when it’s light.”
Snorting mirthlessly, a sodden rat pulled himself higher to speak. “Who are you tryna fool, mate? ’Ow many of us
d’yer think’11 be left by tomorrer? Whether ’e knew it or not, Damug sentenced us to die by pullin’ this liddle trick!”
The two sleeping Rapmark Captains were fated never to see dawn. They kicked briefly when the chains of Borumm
and Vendace tightened about their necks. As the officers slumped lifeless, the escapers relieved them of their cloaks
and weapons. Then, grabbing a coil of rope, Borumm plunged into the stream and waded out to where the wretched
vermin clutched feebly at the rocks.
Securing the rope to a jagged rut, Borumm held it tight, and hissed, “You know me’n’ Vendace—we’re your ole
Rap-scours. We’re gettin’ out of ’ere, and anybeast feels like quit-tin’ Damug an’ his army can come along. That one
ain’t the Firstblade his fattier was!”
A ferret took hold of the rope as Vendace and Lugworm waded up, “I’m wid yer, mate! An’ so would you lot be if
y’ve got any sense. Warfang treats ’is own army worse’n ’is .enemies. Lead on, Borumm!”
Vendace silenced the general murmur of approval. “Keep the noise down there. I’ll make it to the other bank wid
this rope an’ lash it tight ’round a rock. Y’can grab on to it an’ make yore way over, but be quick, there’s no time ter
lose!”
Pulling themselves paw over paw along the taut line, the escapers made their way to the opposite side of the
stream.
Borumm perched on a rock with the last few, but when it was Lugworm’s turn to take the rope, Borumm pushed
him aside.
“Where d’yer think yore off to, slimeface?” he snarled.
The stoat’s voice was shrill with surprise. “It was all part o’ the plan, we escape together, mate!”
There was nowhere to run. Borumm grinned wolfishly at him. “I ain’t yore mate, an’ I just changed the plan. We
don’t take no backstabbers an’ traitors wid us. You stay ’ere!”
Borumm swung the bunched chains savagely, and Lugworm fell lifeless into the stream before he even had a
chance to protest about the new arrangements. Lousewort was shocked by the weasel’s action. “Ooh! Wot didyer do
that for? The pore beast wasn’t doin’ you no ’arm, mate!”
Borumm was not prepared to argue. There was only himself and Lousewort left on the rock. He swung the chains
once more, laying Lousewort senseless on the damp stones. Swinging off on to the rope, the weasel hauled himself
along, muttering, “Sorry about that, mate, but if n you ain’t for us yore agin us!”
22
Bubbling and hissing furiously, the tank in Salamandastron’s forge room received a red-hot chunk of metal. Lady
Cregga Rose Eyes held the piece there until she was sure it was sufficiently cooled. Then, slowly, she withdrew die
wet gray steel. It was an axpike head, the top a straight-tipped, double-bladed spearpoint. Below that was a single
battle-ax blade, thick at the stub, sweeping out smoothly to a broad flat edge, the other side of which was balanced by
a down-curving pike hook.
The Badger Warrior turned it this way and that, letting it rise and fall as she tested the heft of her new weapon.
Satisfied that everything about the lethal object suited her, Cregga began reheating it in the fires of her forge. The next
job was to
‘.put edges to the spear, ax, and hook blades—not sharpened edges, but beaten ones that would never need to be
honed on any stone.
She straightened up as the long-awaited knock sounded upon the door, followed by Deodar’s voice.
“Tenth Spring Runner reportin’, marm, relieved on the western tide line this afternoon!”
The rose-eyed badger had waited two days to hear a Runner’s voice. She recognized it as female and roared out a
gruff reply, “Well, don’t hang about out there, missie. Come in, come in!”
The young haremaid entered boldly, slamming the door behind her and throwing a very elegant salute. “Patrolled
north by west, marm, returnin’ along the coast. No signs of vermin or foebeast activity; still no sign or news of Major
Perigord’s patrol whatsoever. Spotted a few shore toads but they kept their distance. Nothin’ else to report, marm!”
Cregga put aside her work, great striped head nodding resolutely. “Well done, Runner, that’s all I needed to know.
Stand easy.”
Deodar took up the at-ease position and waited. The Badger Lady picked up her red-hot axpike head with a pair of
tongs. “What d’you think, missie? ’Tis to be my new weapon.”
The hare gazed round-eyed at the fearsome object. “Perilous, marm, a real destroyer!”
Setting it to rest on the anvil, Cregga squinted at the Runner. “Answer me truly, young ’un, d’you think you’re
about ready to join the Long Patrol?”
Deodar sprang quivering to attention. “Oh, I say! Rather! I mean, yes, marm!”
A formidable paw patted Deodar’s shoulder lightly. “Hmm, I think you are too. Do you own a weapon?”
“A weapon, ’fraid not, marm, outside o’ sling or short dagger. Colonel Eyebright ain’t fussy on Runners goin’
heavy-armed.”
Cregga’s big paw waved at the weapons ranged in rows on the walls. “Right, then let’s see you choose yourself
something.”
She checked Deodar’s instinctive rush to the weaponry. “No hurry, miss, take care, what you decide upon may
have to last you a lifetime. Go ahead now, but choose wisely.”
The young hare wandered ’round the array, letting her paw run over hilts and handles as she spoke her mind aloud.
“Let me see now, marm, nothin’ too heavy for me, I’ll never be as big as Rockjaw Grang or some others. Somethin’
simple to carry, quick to reach, and light to the paw. Aha! I think this’d jolly well fit the bill, a fencing saber!”
Cregga smiled approvingly. “I’d have picked that for you myself. Go on, take it down and try it, see how it feels!”
Reverently, Deodar took the saber from its peg and held it, feeling the fine balance of the long, slightly curving
single-edged blade. It had a cord-whipped handle, with a basket hilt to protect the paw. So keen was its edge that it
whistled menacingly when she swung it sideways.
Suddenly Lady Cregga was in front of her, brandishing a poker as if it were a sword. “On guard, miss, have at ye!”
Steel changed upon steel as they fenced around the glowing forge, Cregga calling out encouragement to her pupil
as she parried blows and thrusts with the poker.
“That’s the way, miss! Step step, swing counter! Now step step step, thrust! Backstep sideswing! Keep that paw
up! Remember, the blade is an extension of the paw, keep it flexible! And one and two and thrust and parry! Counter,
step step, figure of eight at shoulder level! Footpaws never flat, up up!”
With a quick skirmishing movement the badger disarmed her pupil, sending the saber quivering point first into the