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her—a ferret.

There was a swish and a thud. She felt the impact as the luckless soldier took

the javelin that was intended for her.

The squirrel Queen concealed her disappointment at the lost opportunity by

aiming another javelin and calling out, "Unstring those bows quick, all of

you. She can't hold him in front of her for long, and this next one will get

her between the eyes if you don't obey me right now!"

Tsarmina, still holding the ferret with the spear protruding from his lifeless

form, said urgently out of the side of her mouth, "Do as the squirrel says."

They obeyed instantly.

Tsarmina let the ferret fall, twisting the body as she let go of it. Skipper

was backing off into the bushes with his crew. He waved up to Amber. "Thankee

kindly, marm. D'you mind keepin' a weather eye clapped on 'em while we push

off?"

Suddenly the wildcat plucked the javelin from the fallen soldier and flung it

up at Lady Amber.

"Cut and run crew!" Skipper shouted as he bolted off with the rest. Amber had

momentarily relaxed the javelin in her paw; she ducked in the nick of time as

her weapon came hurtling back at her. Tsarmina did not wait to see if she had

scored a hit but took off after Skipper and the crew, yelling, "This way! Cut

them off through die bushes!"

Martin and Gonff ran with the otters, Skipper urging them on as they pounded

through the undergrowth. "Hurry now, crew. Amber can't hold 'em off

forever—there's too many of 'em. Hark, they're back on to us."

Tsarmina was no fool; she had sensed the direction they

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would take. Accordingly, she retreated then came back at a tangent to cut down

the distance on an angle. Suddenly Martin and Gonff found themselves on the

banks of a broad fast-flowing river with steep grassy sides. Skipper stamped

his paws and sighed. "Belay, we nearly made it. Too late, here Ihey come!"

Tsarmina and her troops broke through the trees and came hurrying along the

bank toward them.

Martin could see there would be no talking this time. He drew his sling, as

did the otters around him. They let fly the first volley before their foes had

time to notch arrows or raise spears. The hail of stone caught the enemy

head-on. Rock clattered on armor as Tsarmina threw herself flat yelling at her

soldiers, "Down, get down and return fire!"

Martin saw two otters felled by heavy spears. Now Skipper's crew was trapped

between the open stretch of bank and the river. The otter crew rattled off

another salvo of rocks.

This time Tsarmina had anticipated it; she had the front rank take the stones

on their shields, while another rank behind hurled their spears over the tops

of the shield-bearers. Some of the spears went too far, but one found its

mark: an

• otter standing up with a whirling sling dropped back, killed

•by a well-aimed throw.

Reinforcements arrived, with Lady Amber bringing squirrel archers through the

trees to fire at the Kotir troops from behind.

Skipper saw Tsarmina's forces turn to face the new foe. He seized his chance.

Martin found himself grabbed by the otter leader, while Gonff was clasped by a

big otter named Root. .'Take a good breath, messmate. We're goin' for a swim!"

The entire otter crew took a short bounding run and dived into the river with

a loud splash.

r Tsarmina was facing the squirrels with an arrow notched to a bow. She spun

round and loosed the shaft, catching the last otter in the back before it hit

the water. Despite this, the otter still managed to submerge and get away.

Lady Amber found that she was losing troops. She decided on a quick withdrawal

now that the otters had escaped. Ducking the arrows and spears, the squirrels

took off through the bees.

Tsarmina howled her victory to the sky. Running to the

57

water's edge, she called a halt to those soldiers who were aiming weapons into

the river. "Enough! Cease fire! They're gone. Stand still, everyone."

The troops stood fast as the wildcat peered into the depths. They watched

Tsarmina draw back from the river's edge. She was scratching at her fur as if

trying to dry herself, shuddering as she muttered, "Urgh! Dark, damp,

wet—water everywhere, swirling, swirling. Ugh!" When she was away from the

water, Tsarmina recovered her composure. Throwing off her helmet and cloak,

she slumped moodily at the foot of a beech tree. Night had crept up unawares.

The soldiers stood watching, puzzled at their Queen's strange behavior.

Tsarmina stared back. "Well, what are you all gawping at? Brogg, Scratt,

listen carefully. I want you to go back to Kotir, see Fortunate, and tell her

to bring the Gloomer to me. I want you back before dawn. Get going, the pair

of you!"

Brogg and Scratt stood rooted; terror loosened their tongues. "The Gloomer,

Milady? Surely you don't mean ..."

"Lady, he's completely mad!"

Tsarmina rolled herself in her cloak and settled down beneath the tree. "I

know he is, idiots. But I'll get a sight madder if you don't move yourselves.

Now be off! Guards, set up a sentry on river watch. If anything happens, let

me know straightaway. Otherwise I'm not to be disturbed until Fortunata

arrives with the Gloomer. If Brogg and Scratt are still here, give them a good

whipping with bowstrings for idling." Tsarmina settled down to sleep, lulled

by the sounds of the two ferrets crashing and blundering off through the

undergrowth.

Nothing could escape the Gloomer in the water. The wildcat Queen had tasted

victory that day. She was not about to let it all slip away because of

incompetent soldiers. The Gloomer must be brought here quickly to consolidate

her triumph.

1O

58

The whole world was black, icy cold, airless, and wet.

Martin concentrated on holding his breath. When he ventured to open his eyes,

it became a murky dark gray, but he could sometimes make out shapes moving

around him. He began to wish he were anywhere but beneath a river—even back in

his cell at Kotir. At least there had been air to breathe there.

Skipper's strong paws gripped him relentlessly by the scruff of his neck.

Water rushed by them, roaring in his ears as the powerful swimming otter

dragged him along.

Fresh air, just one breath, he wished, one lungful of good clean air.

Skipper held Martin tighter as he began to wriggle in panic. Bubbles of air

were escaping from his mouth, an iron band was crushing his skull. Why was

Skipper drowning him?

Martin opened his mouth to shout, but the water came pouring in. With a huge

rush accompanied by much barking and shouting, the otters broke the surface,

shaking their coats.

Skipper hefted Martin's body and tossed him out upon the bank. The warrior

mouse lay coughing and gasping, gulping in vast quantities of clean fresh air.

Never again would he take such a wondrous gift for granted.

All around him otters were whooshing playfully in and out of the water,

ducking one another and generally behaving as if the whole thing were a great

lark. Martin looked about

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until he sighted Gonff. Immediately he dashed across to his friend. Gonff had

not fared as well as he on the underwater journey; the little thief lay face

down on the bank, his body looked forbiddingly limp and still. Root, the big

otter who had borne Gonff underwater, began pushing and pumping at Gonff's

inert form with his strong forepaws.

Martin felt a surge of panic. "Is he all right? He's not drowned? He'll live,

won't he?"