the rescue party moved off in the direction of Kotir.
Amber sniffed the light breeze. "Not more than two hours to daybreak now.''
Skipper wound a slingshot about his paw. "Aye, marm. That'll give us enough
time if we move along handy."
On the fringe of Mossfiower, Kotir stood dark and forbidding, the very
embodiment of evil and tyranny, awaiting the dawn.
Martin sat bolt upright at the sound of a bird on the outside. He shook Gonff
soundly. "Wake up, sleepyhead. It'll be dawn in less than an hour."
The mousethief sat up. Rubbing his paws into half-opened eyes, he looked
upward to the narrow strip of sky through the barred window slit. "Time to go,
matey."
Gonff took out his slim knifeblade. Sliding it into the key-
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hole of the cell door, he twitched it back and forth. "Oh good, an easy one."
With both eyes closed and a smile of pleasure on his chubby face, he jiggled
the blade until there was a metallic click. "That's it, matey. Give it a
shove."
Marten pushed the door, but it refused to open. "It's still shut. What's gone
wrong?"
Gonff tested it carefully, pushing until he heard a slight rattle. "Bolts.
I'll need a boost—can you hold me up, matey?"
Martin braced his back against the door, cupped his paws and squared his
shoulders. "Try me."
The mousethief climbed up and balanced on his friend's shoulders.
Martin bore his weight patiently, hoping that GonfFs talents would do the
trick. "How does it look up there?" he asked anxiously.
Gonff's voice came back punctuated by odd grunts of concentration. "No real
problems, matey. Leastways, nothing that a Prince of thieves can't handle. Ha,
rusty old bolts, shove a bit of greasy cheese on 'em with my knifeblade, loop
the wire round the bolt handle, then it's just a matter of wiggle and jiggle
and tug until it comes loose, like this one. Ha, got it!"
Martin squared his shoulders once more as Gonff sought a new position. "Now
for the other lock. Hee-hee, this beats scrabbling and climbing up doors, a
good strong matey to stand on. Martin, you're as solid as a rock."
"Maybe," Martin grunted. "But I'm not as thick as one, so stop prancing about
on the back of my neck like that. I Ve been standing here for ages."
Gonff was never short of an answer. "Ages, huh? YouVe not been there ten
seconds, and the job's near done. I've known clumsy thieves and burglars who'd
keep you there until you grew gray whiskers. Just thank your lucky stars
you've got an honest thief like me to look after you, matey. Look out, here it
goes!"
Suddenly the door swung open, and they both tumbled in a heap out into the
passage. Gonff was laughing uproariously. Martin clapped a paw across his
noisy friend's mouth. "Sssshhh! You'll have the guards coming down to check on
the din."
Martin closed the door carefully and rebolted it.
Gonff was halfway along the passage when he noticed Mar-42
tin was not with him. Glancing back, he saw his friend standing by a cell far
down the corridor. It was Gingivere's cell, and Martin was speaking to the
wildcat.
"Gingivere, do you remember me? I'm Martin the Warrior. When I was taken
prisoner you were the only one who tried to help me. I've not forgotten that,
even though we're on opposite sides. I've got to go now, but if there's a way
that I can help you when I'm free, then I will."
Gingivere's voice reached Martin. He sounded weak and despairing. "Save
yourself, Martin. Get far away from this place and my sister.''
Gonff pulled Martin away, calling as he went, "I'm Gonff, the Prince of
Mousethieves. WeVe got to go now, but if you've helped my friend then I'll try
and help you someday."
As they hurried along the corridor, Gingivere's voice echoed behind. "Thank
you. Good fortune go with both of you friends."
They reached the end of the passage and mounted the stairs. Gonff was panting
slightly, so Martin waited while he regained his breath. The stairs were built
in a spiral. At the top was a wooden door. Gonff held up a paw for silence as
he eased it open. It was all clear. They stepped out into a broad hallway
which stretched away to the left and right of them.
Martin scratched his head. "Which way? Left or right?"
Gonff placed his slim blade on the floor and spun it. They stood watching
until it stopped. "Left. Come on, matey."
Continuing down the hallway, they saw a high window with the morning sunlight
streaming through onto the top of a flat wide stairway. Gonff groaned. "Oh no,
we're late. We've mistimed it because of that dark cell. Ah well, if we hurry
they may still be waiting outside for us. Which way now?"
As the steps took a turn they were in a smaller hall with a door at either
end. The sound of Tsarmina's voice could be heard. They froze. "If one word of
this ever gets out, just one, you vixen and you Ashleg, I'll see you both
hanged in chains over a roasting pit. The army will only follow the rightful
leader, and now that my brother is in the cells, that's me. I am Queen of the
Thousand Eyes. I rule Kotir and Mossflower."
The escapers backed down onto the stairway they had just
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ascended, the echoes of Tsarmina's voice all around them as they ran round the
turn of the steps.
Martin and Gonff crashed straight into Tsarmina, Ashleg and Fortunata, who had
unknowingly been walking up the stairs behind them!
In the shrubs and small trees that bordered the woodland edge of Kotir the
otters and squirrels lay low. It was full bright morning, long past the dawn.
Birds were singing. The sun beamed over bright greenery dotted with daphne,
spurge laurel and late winter jasmine.
Oblivious to the beauty around him, Skipper lay whispering to Amber. "We can't
hang the anchor round her much longer, marm."
Amber stared at Kotir's gloomy walls. "You're right, Skip. We could be spotted
in broad daylight from those walls quite easily. Where in the name of the fur
has that little thief got to?''
"We can only give him a little longer," Skipper shrugged resignedly. "Then
we'll have to push off and try another day."
A young dark-colored otter came wriggling through the grass on his stomach and
saluted them. "Huh, you're never goin' to believe this, Skip, but there's a
whole fleet of mice dressed in funny-lookin' robes comin' this way through the
woods. Never seen ought like it in all me bom days."
Skipper and Amber looked quizzically at the scout. "Where?"
"Sort of circling from the south. Look, there!"
Sure enough, he had spoken truly. Through the trees a band of mice were
marching, all dressed in green-brown robes, complete with cowls and rope ties
about the middle.
Amber shook her head in amazement. She signaled a squirrel in a nearby tree.
"Quickly, take this otter with you. Get over and tell that bunch of ninnies to
get down flat. Don't they know where they are?"
Before the pair dashed off, Skipper spoke. ' 'Stay with 'em. Soon as it's
safe, take 'em in tow. Go to Brockhall—that should be large enough. Get in
touch with Bella, and tell her about them. Say that me and Lady Amber will be
in touch afore nightfall. OfFy'go."
Amber watched them bound away, ducking and weaving. Beside the army of Kotir,
there was always Argulor to watch out for. She turned to Skipper. "What a
prize bunch of boo-
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bies! Imagine parading around Kotir in broad daylight. Where d'you suppose
they've come from?"
The otter snorted. "Search me. Bella will probably know as she's done a fair