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The soldiers of Kotir ran alongside the bank, following Gloomcr's progress and

shouting excitedly.

*'Look, he's after something. Hey, Gloomer, eat an otter 'forme!"

"Don't eat 'em, kill 'em all, Gloomer! Rip them to bits!"

A ferret who had run ahead of the rest called back to his comrades,

"Something's coming! I think it's the otters. No, wait, it's a big fish of

some sort."

Swift chevrons of water rippled out to both sides of the bank as Stormfin sped

downstream like a great arrow. : Gloomer thrashed the water as he swam

upstream, feeling his prey getting near.

, Closer and closer the leviathans came toward each other. Oloomer lifted his

snout clear of the water, sucking in a huge gasp of air. He submerged again

and waited, facing the oncoming foe, mouth slightly agape, claws at the ready.

Stormfin looked as if he was smiling. The underslung jaw clamped shut,

pointing at his adversary like a battering ram, he piled on extra speed, drew

his fins in tight and came at Oloomer like an arrow from a bow. The onlookers

on the bank saw a spout of water shoot high like a geyser as the combatants

crashed together.

K;> Gloomer had the breath driven from him as Stormfin struck IBS ribs.

Disregarding the pain, the rat sought the pike with

•ISs teeth, feeling his heavy claws rake searingly through its

Kales.

P With the madness of battle upon him, Stormfin rose clear

*Jlthe river, swishing his tail in a mighty leap; then twisting ^midair, he

launched himself back into the water like a nward torpedo with gaping teeth.

Gloomer was waiting.

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He pushed his head clear of the river, sucked in a quick breath and locked

jaws with the descending pike. The surface boiled in a welter of cascading

water, shimmering scales and ragged far, the whole scene streaked with blood.

They snapped and bit at each other, locking jaws, rolling over and over, now

letting go, now seeking another hold, contorting madly. Gloomer had the pike

by the tail. He chewed voraciously. Pain seared through the big fish, but

Stormfin had his enemy by the stomach, and ripped viciously.

Tsarmina dashed up and down the bank with a spear at the ready. She could not

throw it for tear of hitting her destroyer. Mud boiled up from the bottom to

mix with the floatsam of combat. Silver scales and gray black far became

indistinguishable in the melee.

Now Gloomer had latched his claws into Stormfin's side and bitten deep into

the pike's dorsal fin. Stormfin thwacked away at Gloomer's injured side with

his heavy tail like a stout paddle. He had severed Gloomer's tail and was

tearing ferociously at the rat's hindquarters.

The need for breath forced Gloomer to relinquish his hold momentarily, and

Stormfin slid off like a wraith, following the current. Gloomer surfaced and

gulped in several grateful breaths.

Dementedly Tsarmina shouted from the bank, "Gloomer's won! Where's the pike?

Is it dead?"

Fortunata was caught up in the excitement. "It must be, Milady. Nothing could

stand against the Gloomer for long."

The soldiers raised a ragged cheer. It was immediately stifled as Stormfin

came back to the attack!

Driving low, hard and fast, the big pike crashed into Gloomer with staggering

force, catching him unawares. The huge rat had the breath smashed from his

lungs as he was battered swiftly up against the far bank. Falling back into

the water, he swallowed liquid instead of air. Still lashing out with tooth

and claw, Gloomer was unconsciously inflicting injuries on the pike, but the

damage was done.

Stormfin knew every inch of his river. He slid into a deep pit beneath the

bank and attacked the rat's soft underbelly with the mad power of one who

feels victory in sight. Gloomer scratched blindly at the rock either side of

the un-

70

derwater hole, missing his adversary's head completely. Baffled, he tried to

turn away.

Stormfin's jaws clamped tight on Gloomer's back legs. The monster pike backed

water as he dragged the rat backward down the pit with him. The watchers on

the bank saw Gloomer's front claws emerge wildly from the water, grasping at

thin air before they vanished beneath the surface.

The destroyer from Kotir was beaten. Stormfin had finally won!

Tsarmina shot several arrows into the area where the pike had pulled her rat

down. The soldiers stood about on the bank, shuffling awkwardly and fidgeting.

A sense of foreboding hung over them after the defeat of Gloomer. Fortunata

tried to stroll casually out of sight, knowing the wildcat Queen would be

looking for a scapegoat to vent her wrath upon.

"Get back here, fox. Don't try to slink away." Holding out her paw, the

wildcat Queen snapped at a stoat close by, "Give me your spear."

Keeping her eyes fixed on the quaking vixen, Tsarmina accepted the spear. She

swung it around until the point was at Fortunata's throat. "So, nothing could

stand against the Gloomer, eh, fox?"

The terrified fox could think of nothing to say. She merely gulped.

Tsarmina swung the spear away and dipped it into the river. She fished about

for a moment then whipped the point out of the water. Looped over the

spearpoint was the collar once worn by the Gloomer. Tsarmina hurled the

weapon. It whizzed past Fortunata and buried itself in an ash trunk, quivering

with bright droplets of water shaking from it.

From somewhere along the river came the deep, barking laugh of an otter.

The wildcat's cloak swirled about her as she tore the spear from the tree and

ran to the water's edge brandishing it.

"Laugh, yes laugh all you like, but stay hidden while you value your miserable

lives. I am Tsarmina, Queen of the Thousand Eyes. Before I am finished with

Mossflower, every creature who defies me will wish mat its mother had never

given birth to it. The crying and the dying will be loud and long. Now let me

hear you laugh at that!"

As Tsarmina finished her speech, Fortunata leaped for-

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ward. The vixen was thinking of ingratiating herself with her Queen by adding

a few words to the speech.

"Thus speaks the mighty Tsarmina, ruler of all Mossfl—" As Brogg turned from

die river's edge he collided with the leaping fox. Their heads clashed

painfully. The weasel staggered back a step and trod on the hem of the vixen's

cloak. They tripped, landing ungraciously in the mud of the shallows.

The otters' laughter was mingled with the chuckling of squirrels.

72

The sun was at its zenith in the woodlands. Young bees droned fuzzily around

the flowers in anticipation of their first summer. A venerable oak of massive

girth and height towered above the surrounding trees. Beneath its spring

foliage of small green leaves and below its aged trunk was Brockhall, the

ancestral home of badgers. The solid, intricate root structure of the oak

provided ceiling beams, wall columns, shelves and in some places flooring for

the beautiful old dwelling. A door was set between the fork of two roots at

ground level. From there a long passage ran downward with rooms leading off

it—Bella's private study, small sitting rooms, a nursery and small infirmary.

At the other end the passage opened out into the main hall. This was large and

well-appointed, with a hearth, fireplace, full dining board and small seated

alcoves around its walls. Several doors led off the main hall; to the left was

the master bedroom and dormitories, while off to the light was the larder,

kitchens and storerooms, behind which lay the bolt hole or escape door,