"Don't upset yourself, Mother dear. I sent the guards away because I don't want them clanking and tramping about outside your door when you need rest. This White Ghost, 'tis all in your imagination. Sleep will cure all that. Things will look better in the light of day."
Silth seemed to regain some of her regal composure. She chided Lantur skeptically. "Sleep? How can I sleep? You haven't the slightest idea how I suffer. I order you to stay here for the rest of the night to keep me company through the dark hours. What's this you've brought, eh?"
Lantur held the tray out to her mother, taking care that she presented it so the Queen's cup was nearer to the royal paw. "'Tis a harmless drink, made from warm damson wine and special herbs. It will help you to sleep."
Silth sniffed the goblet without touching it. "I don't care what it is, I'm not drinking any!"
Lantur moved the tray closer to her mother. "Now don't be silly, Mother. See, I've filled a goblet for myself. I'm going to drink, aye, and enjoy it."
She picked up the plain pewter goblet. It was halfway to her lips when the Queen rasped out, "Stop! Put that goblet back on the tray. I command you!"
With a look of long-suffering hopelessness, Lantur did as she was bidden. Silth smiled craftily at her. "You placed the two goblets on the tray so that my personal one was closest to me, as if you wanted me to drink from it."
Lantur smiled innocently back. "But of course, Majesty. 'Tis your own cup. None but the High Queen would dare to drink from it."
Silth pushed the royal goblet across to Lantur. "Here's a better idea. You drink from my goblet and I'll drink from yours. What do you think of that?"
Lantur shrugged and picked up the golden vessel. "A wonderful idea, Majesty. I've never taken wine from a Queen's cup. Mayhaps I'll get used to it!"
Silth snatched the golden goblet before Lantur could taste it. "No you won't, that's mine. Now, let me see you drain the other one. Drink!"
Lantur's face blanched with fright. Her paw trembled as she picked up the pewter goblet. Silth cackled evilly. "Drink it all, you wicked young schemer, or I'll have my guards feed you to the Teeth of the Deeps. Drink!"
Lantur was forced to swallow, her throat quivering fitfully, wine dribbling from the corners of her lips, her eyes wide with horror. Silth sipped at her own goblet, fully recovered from her former cringing self as she lectured her treacherous daughter.
"Did you think you could outwit a Queen of Marlfoxes, my dear? I knew that you would put the poison in your own goblet. You thought I'd think it was in mine, the silly way you offered the tray so that my cup was nearest to me. I saw through your ruse, Lantur, I knew you wanted me to drink from your goblet, suspecting that mine contained the poison. So tonight you learned your last lesson. Never try to outwit a Queen of Marlfoxes. Hee hee hee!"
Lantur had drained the pewter goblet. She put it aside and watched her mother, a smile suddenly beginning to play upon her lips. "There, I've drunk it all as you commanded. Have you drunk yours yet, O High Queen?"
Surprised, Silth looked up questioningly. "Only a few sips. Why?"
Lantur removed the golden cup from her mother's paws. "One sip would have been enough. You did just as I gambled you would. Your Majesty outfoxed herself. The poison was in your cup all the time!"
Queen Silth's paws dithered helplessly for a moment, then her body flopped limply back. Lantur plumped up the pillow behind her head and folded the satin coverlet neatly under her mother's chin. The Queen murmured faintly through numbed lips, "Guards, where are my ..."
Lantur wiped away a dribble of wine from the corner of Silth's mouth. "Hush now, your Majesty, go to sleep and remember your own words. Never try to outwit a Queen of Marlfoxes. I am Lantur, High Queen of all Marlfoxes, now!"
Silth blinked her dimmed, watering eyes. All power of speech had left her. Without a word she slipped silently into the deepest sleep of all.
Lantur washed the golden goblet out carefully, three times. Then she filled it with new damson wine and drank a toast to herself.
Morning sunlight flooded the island as Wilce the female water rat wandered down to the field where the slaves were husbanding fruit and crops. Seating herself on the ground, she opened a flask of damson wine and poured two beakers. Captain Ullig, the slave master, saw her from the corner of his eye. He cracked his long whip expertly over the bent backs in front of him. "Keep those 'eads down, you scum, or I'll teach yer a lesson you won't forget the rest o' yore lives!" Satisfied that nobeast would dare look up, he joined Wilce. "Thirsty work, eh? Wish I could lay me paws on more wine that tastes like this. Well, ye didn't come down 'ere fer nothin', Wilce. Wot news up at the castle?"
She poured more wine for Ullig, keeping her eyes fixed on the toiling slaves as she spoke. "There'll be lots more o' this wine, much as y'want if you lissen t'me, Slave Cap'n."
Ullig drained his beaker and held it forth for a refill. "Oh aye? Wot is it now, another surprise inspection from 'er Majesty, or is the noise o' this whip disturbin' 'er royal peace?"
"Oh no, the royal peace won't be disturbed ever again, Ullig."
"Wot d'yer mean by that?"
"High Queen Silth is dead, long live Queen Lantur, and her Chief Adviser Wilce!"
Wine ran either side of Ullig's mouth as he slopped it down and held out his beaker for more. "Haharr! I'll drink ter that. So, you an' yore Marlfox friend finally finished off the old one. Clever, Wilce, clever!"
Wilce's paw was like a vise as she grabbed Ullig's, restraining him from lifting the beaker to his mouth. "Keep talkin' like that an' yore a deadrat!" she hissed viciously. "Queen Silth was slain durin' the night, by the White Ghost. I knew all along that White Ghost was the spirit of 'er mate returnin' to avenge hisself for the treacherous way she slew 'im. Right?"
A thin smile crossed Ullig's cruel features. "Right you are, Wilce. Everybeast knowed that someday Silth'd pay fer killin' 'er mate. Lantur was 'is favorite daughter, so 'tis only fittin' that she rules the island nowwid you to guide an' advise 'er, of course, an' me to command the army."
Wilce released Ullig's paw and allowed him to drink. "Well spoken, Ullig. You catch on pretty fast. Now, there'll be a buryin' ceremony at the lakeside before long. What we need is for you to get everybeast yellin', 'Long live High Queen Lantur!'"
Ullig tossed the empty beaker aside and tilted the flask to his lips as he toasted the conspiracy. "Long live Tgh Queen Lantur!"
Wilce gathered up the two beakers. "Not so loud, friend. Nobeast's supposed to know she's dead yet!"
One of the slaves, a sturdy female hedgehog, whispered to an otter working alongside her, "Did you 'ear that? Silth's dead an' Lantur's Queen now."
The otter labored on, not raising his eyes. "Makes no difference to us, does it? One Marlfox is bad as another to a field slave."
The news would have made little difference to Mokkan either. The Marlfox, following his own secret route, found himself attacked by lizards. He had deviated by mistake from the river into a watermeadow, which, half a paddle's depth beneath the surface, was swamp. Berating the rat paddlers and the shrew Fenno, he had them turn about, only to find that the way back to the river was blocked by a teeming horde of lizards, newts and toads. The first inkling he had was when a rat in the prow fell overboard with a gurgle, his throat pierced by a sharpened dried bulrush stem. Then the water came alive with reptiles swimming toward the logboat, while others hurled rush lances from the reeded shallows. Mokkan crouched low and shouted frantic orders to his crew. "Use your paddles! Don't let them aboard or we're lost!"
The logboat rocked from side to side as Mokkan made his way to the prow, pushing past the paddlers. He seized the slain rat's oar and began wielding it energetically, making toward the twin tongues of land that formed the watermeadow entrance. Smashing a toad over the head with his blade, the Marlfox urged his water rats onward as they alternately paddled or hit out at the reptiles who attempted to board the logboat. In the stern of the vessel, Fenno gnawed on the thong like a beast in a trap. Slobbering and spitting, he chewed madly, straining the thong tight by pulling hard with his strong neck. The rawhide snapped as they were passing through the jutting landspurs. Fenno bundled himself ashore and lay still among the reeds and bushes, watching the cold-eyed reptiles hurrying by, trying to catch the vessel before it struck open water.