Kurda stood on the bank, waiting, knowing he could not keep his defence up for any length of time.
After a while Scarum began to flag. The pole fell lower until it was splashing the water at each stroke. Posturing, with the sabre point held forward, Kurda entered the lake, wading forward toward her victim.
The hare thrust at her with his pole, leaving his sides momentarily unguarded. Riggan swung her spear powerfully, catching Scarum a hard blow to the back of his head and knocking him senseless. Kurda retreated swiftly from the lake, not liking having her footpaws wet. I hope you haff not slayed ‘im. Pull der rabbit ashore. He vill die bit by bit, yarr!
Ô
Scarum’s skull throbbed remorselessly. He opened his eyes to find the earth had turned upside down. Riggan was squatting nearby, chewing on a half-ripe pear. She winked at the young hare. Yore goin’ to wish I’d finished yer off in the lake!
Craning his neck painfully upward, Scarum saw that he was bound by both footpaws, suspended from the limb of an alder tree. Riggan gave him a push, which set him swinging. The rabbit’s awake now, marm!
Kurda had been honing her blade on a stone. She came over and stood in front of her prisoner, Scarum decided that he had better mind his manners. Er, good day to you, madam.
The Pure Ferret clipped the top from a rush with an expert flick of the sabre. I am not der madam, I am Queen Kurda of Riftgard. Nobeast in all der Nort’lands has mine skill mitt der sabre/’
Scarum tried a warm smile. Pleased t’meet you, I’m sure, skilful with the old sabre, wot. Need lots o’ practice for that sort o’ thing, I’ll wager.
Kurda brought the point to rest against Scarum’s nose. Oh yarr, lots of practice, I alvays practice. Sometimes mitt turnips, but dat’s no fun. I like to practice mitt mine sabre on livink beasts.
Scarum gulped. Actually I come from a jolly long line of turnipsÑa dull bunch we are. Er, haha, you should see my old granny turnip, she’s really goin’ to seed this season!
The sabre flicked sideways, shearing the whiskers from one side of Scarum’s face. Kurda narrowed her eyes. First de whiskers, den de ears, von at a time. Ve haff all day to play diss liddle game, yarr?
Scarum could see by the way Riggan and Vorto turned their faces away that his time had come. He dropped all pretences and snarled at his tormentor, Then do your worst, you milk-furred scum, I’ll see you at Hellgates one day. Aye, and I won’t be helpless then!
Scarum raised his voice and yelled out the old Sala-mandastron war cry, hoping to go out bravely. Eualiiii-iaaaa! Blood’n’vinegar, chaps!
Eulaliiiiiiaaaaa!
Kurda’s sabre was upraised when suddenly there came a huge booming answer, which she knew was no echo.
Eulaliiiiiaaaaaa! We’re coming! Eulaliiiiiiaaaaaa!
Crashing through the shallows of the lakeshore, Sagax came thundering towards Kurda, swinging his massive battle-axe in one paw. On the bank alongside him, Log a Log and Triss ran their hardest to keep up with him.
Kurda screeched to Vorto and Riggan, Shtop dem, quick!
She had her back to Scarum. Swinging himself forward, he grabbed her around the back of her neck and hung on grimly. Riggan turned to run away, but Log a Log’s rapier, hurled like a javelin, stopped her for good.
Triss put on a turn of speed, shouting at Sagax as she passed him, The white one’s mine!
Vorto’s spear snapped like a twig as Sagax bulled him into the lake.
The battle-axe cleaved midair, water, and the Ratguard Captain, all in one stroke.
Kurda was struggling wildly in Scarum’s grip as Triss went bounding by, leaping like an acrobat. Her sword sheared the rope from the alder branch, dropping Scarum onto Kurda. They both went down in a huddle, and the sabre was knocked from Kurda’s grasp. She reached for it, only to find a footpaw resting heavily on the blade. Scarum extricated himself and scrambled free.
Triss stepped away from the blade and stood over Kurda. The squirrelmaid’s voice shook with pent-up rage as she grated at her foe, Remember me, Princess? I used to throw turnips up for you to practice on. I’m the escaped slave who stole your ship. Well, you’ve chased me across the great seas, and now you’ve found me. Pick up that sabre, stand and face me!
It was the first time in her life Kurda had faced a creature that was armed and ready for her. The others had never been a problem. They were usually bound and helpless, and she had always been surrounded by Ratguards to protect her. A chill of fear ran through the Pure Ferret.
Rising slowly Kurda picked up her sabre. Triss circled her, the point of Martin’s sword weaving and flickering about her sworn enemy, taunting her.
My father was Rocc Arrem, the greatest swordmaster in all the Northlands.
He was slain by your family, with arrows, because they feared him. You slew his friend Drufo, who was old and weak. I watched you kill him.
So now, let’s see what murdering one old creature and chopping lots of turnips has taught you, coward!
Triss deliberately lowered her sword. Kurda tried a swift sabre slash at her opponent’s head. Like lightning Martin’s sword came into play, whipping through the basket-hilted sabreguard and flicking the weapon out of Kurda’s paw. Triss moved back a pace. Pick it up and try again, turnip chopper!
Kurda felt her paws shaking as she retrieved her sabre. This time Triss allowed her two thrusts before disarming her with a similar swift twist.
Log a Log murmured admiringly to Sagax, Great seasons, I never saw anybeast that good with a blade!
Kurda dived to grab back her sabre, panic-stricken. Triss slapped the flat of her blade across the Pure Ferret’s rump, admonishing her like a clumsy novice. I never told you to pick it up again. Tell me, how does it feel, being treated like a slave?
Triss contemptuously turned her back and walked away. Kurda’s anger at the way she was being treated overcame fear. She grabbed the heavy sabre with both paws and charged screeching at Triss’s unprotected back.
The squirrelmaid skipped to one side as the sabrepoint buried itself in the earth. Triss whirled and struck the blade with all her might.
It was a sturdy sabre, but no match for the great sword of Martin the Warrior. There followed a loud metallic clang as the sabre snapped in two halves.
Kurda stood shocked, staring at the broken weapon in her paws. Then she ran for her life. Triss sped after her, yelling, You can run, but there’s nowhere you can hide, coward. I’ll get you!
Kurda looked back as she ran full pelt, to see Triss hot on her trail.
It was a fatal mistake. The Pure Ferret tripped on a protruding tree root and slammed down heavily on the lake bank. She was lying curled up and still when Triss reached her. Triss saw the broken sabre blade, which was still held tight in both of her enemy’s paws. Kurda had fallen onto the broken blade. She stared up at the squirrel-maid through dead eyes.
Sagax picked up the Crown of Sarengo from where it had fallen and gave it to Triss. I think this belongs to you now.
Bitter tears welled in the squirrelmaid’s eyes as she sat gazing at her slain foe. She cheated me of my revenge! Log a Log gently removed the sword from her grasp. No, she never, Trissy. You defeated’er, fair’n’square!
Grasping the shrew’s paw, Triss pulled herself upright. But she killed herself by accident.
Placing the sword back over Triss’s shoulder, the Gu-osim Chieftain shook his head firmly. Wot would ye’ave done if’n you caught up with’er, eh? Made Kurda fight on wid a broken blade? No, matey, that’s not yore style. You couldn’t slay a beast in cold blood, ain’t that right, Sagax?