She bent the bow back and giggled wickedly at the sight of Fortunata beating a hopskip retreat.

Sooner or later the Queen of the Thousand Eyes had the final say in all things.

Something rattled though the slit window above Martin and Gonff. In the semigloom they groped about in the straw until Gonff found the object.

Martin could not conceal his disappointment. ' 'Goodness me, a stick. How helpful. We could take this place single-pawed with a stick. What a useful thing to send us."

It was not a stick. Gonff ignored his cellmate and set about undoing the thin wire that bound the bark parchment to the slim blade. He unfolded the parchment and moved into the light, where he read aloud the message it contained.

Gonff.

Here are your tools. Leave by the woodland side of Kotir at the first light of dawn. We will be waiting to cover for you.

Corim Gonff laughed quietly as he destroyed the message. "This is what weVe been waiting for, matey. Of course they don't know about you. The plan is only supposed to cover my escape, but don't worry, we'll sort it out. The council will be glad to have a real trained warrior on their side. Now, d'you see this silly old bit of wire and this little knifeblade? Well, they're going to get us out of here, matey. These are the tools of an honorable thief.''

Martin clasped Gonff's paw warmly. "I'm sorry, Gonff. All I did was stand here making stupid remarks. You are the expert. From now on you have an a.s.sistant who is willing to leam from your experience. In fact, you've got a real mate, matey.'*

Gonff laughed and winced at the same time. "Righto, matey, the first lesson is not to break the expert's paw by 38.

crushing it 'cos you don't know your own strength. Let's settle down now. When is the next guard patrol due?"

"In about an hour's time, regular as clockwork since I've been here. After that, there'll be n.o.body by until two hours after dawn when they bring the bread and water."

"Good, that gives us time for a little rest," Gonff said, stretching out comfortably on the straw.

Martin lay down, willing himself to relax against the flood-tide of excitement building inside him. Gonff played on his flute awhile, then he began singing softly.

Pickalock pickalock, you'll regret the day, When you took a mousethief and locked him away.

Sillycat, look at that, it's two for one, The thief and the warrior By dawn will be gone.

Martin lay with his eyes closed, listening. "Who taught you that song?"

Gonff shrugged as he packed his flute away. "n.o.body. Songs just spring into my head. Silly, isn't it. Sometimes old Goody Stickle says that it's Mossfiower singing through me. Now and then she'll say it's a sight of seasons the sun hasn't yet shone upon."

Martin savored the phrase as they lay in the straw.

"A sight of seasons the sun hasn't yet shone upon, eh. I like that, matey, your friends sound like nice creatures."

Gonff chewed on a straw. "You'll like Goody Stickle. If I did have a mother one time, then she couldn't be any nicer than Goody. Wait till you taste her spring vegetable soup, or her oat and honey scones, piping hot and oozing b.u.t.ter, or her apple and blackberry pudding with spices and fresh cream, or just her new yellow cheese with hot oven bread and a stick of fresh celery, aye, and a bowl of milk with nutmeg grated on top of it ..."

The straw slipped from Gonff's lips. Martin was glad that he had dozed off. All that delicious mention of food had set his mouth watering like a stream. He was positive that he would like Goody Stickle. In fact, she would never be short of a constant admirer if her cooking was half as good as Gonff described it.

39.

It was still three hours to dawn as the rescue party headed by Amber and Skipper left the Stickle dwelling. Goody pressed parcels of food upon them, clucking worriedly, "Now I don't want to hear of anyone a-gettin' theirselves catchered by those madcats. They'll eat you for sure."

Amber the squirrel Chief smiled as she hefted a pack of food. "Don't fret your spines, Goody. We're more likely to be laid low by the amount of rations you're making us take than by an enemy."

Skipper peeked inside his pack. "Marm, my old sturn-mick'd sink in a stream if I ate half o' this. I'd be down at the bows for a week."

The small band of tough, capable woodlanders were paw-picked from Amber's squirrel archers and Skipper's otter crew. They stood about checking weapons. The otters twirled slings and selected stones, some of them balancing light throwing javelins. The squirrels waxed bowstrings and belted on full quivers.

Ben Stickle remarked to his wife, "As fine a body o' woodlanders as I've seen. Let's hope they can be of help to our little Gonff."

Ferdy and Coggs strolled out to join the band. The two small hedgehogs wore cooking pot helmets and blanket cloaks, each carried a piece of firewood, and they scowled in a warlike manner as they stood among the squirrels and otters.

40.

The Skipper of otters clapped a paw to his brow and staggered about in mock fright. "Strike me colors, if it ain't two bloodthirsty savages. One glance at these two'd put a wildcat off his skilly an' duff for life!"

Ferdy and Coggs strutted about, tripping on their blankets but still managing to maintain fierce grimaces. Concealing a smile, Lady Amber took the two would-be warriors by their paws and positioned them outside the Stickle house. She placed one on either side of the doorway, where they stood scowling and stabbing the air with their firewood weapons. The otter and squirrel band dutifully scowled back in recognition of two fellow fighters.

Skipper gave them a broad wink and waved his muscular tail for silence. "Belay the gab and listen to me now. These here rough-lookin' coves has offered to spill some blood V guts over at Kotir, but what I say is, leave the easy work to us, we'll manage that. What we need is two ruffians who'll stop at nothin' to patrol round this cottage and guard it while we're gone. I'll tell you otters 'n' squirrels, 'tis hard and dangerous work, so I'll leave my packet of tuck to keep you two villains alive while you're on watch here. That's if you mink you can manage the job."

Ferdy and Coggs stood to attention, spikes bristling, cheeks puffed out with authority, practically bursting with enthusiasm. They saluted officiously as 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- 41.

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 pa.s.sage. 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 pa.s.sage 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 pa.s.sage 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 43.

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 gra.s.s 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- 44.

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 bit of roaming in her time. Huh, talkin* of time, I think it's nearly run out for young Gonff if he doesn't show himself soon."

Even at this early morning hour the warmth from the sun had lulled old Argulor into a drowsy sleep. The eagle perched high in a spruce, partially leaning against the trunk. In his sleep he groaned pleasurably, ruffling his plumage slightly to let the glorious warmth seep through to his ancient flesh and cold bones. If only there was a place that had no cold winter or damp windy autumn, just eternal spring followed by summer. Life pa.s.sed Argulor by as he slept the day through on his perch. It pa.s.sed by more importantly in the forms of an otter and a squirrel leading a band of robed mice directly beneath the very tree where he slumbered.

It would have been hard to tell who was more surprised, the escaping prisoners or the wildcat and her minions.

Immediately they collided, Tsarmina gave a yowl of rage and more by luck than judgment seized Gonff's leg. This was followed by a more anguished yowl as Martin whipped the blade from GonfF's belt and stabbed Tsarmina sharply in the paw, forcing her to release his friend.

"Follow me!" Martin grabbed Gonff and ran back up the stairs, giving Fortunata a good slash across the rump with the blade as he went. The vixen collided with Ashleg, and they fell in a jumble. Tsarmina tripped over them. She struggled to extricate herself, screaming curses and raking the un-- lucky pair with her claws.

"Blockheads, idiots, out of my way."

Martin and Gonff dashed headlong down the hall. Taking die door to the right, they dived inside, slamming it shut behind them.

It was the late Lord Greeneyes' bedchamber. With the shouts of their pursuers ringing closer the escapers scuttled for cover beneath the large canopied bed.

"We cant stay here long!" Martin panted as he felt about In the darkness and found Gonff's paw.

U' " 45.

"Don't worry, matey. Get ready to make a bolt when I shout."

There was no further opportunity for conversation, as the door banged open. Tsarmina pushed her creatures before her and closed the door. She was licking her wounded paw. Fortu-nata, who had suffered a loss of dignity, tried not to rub at her wounded rump. Ashleg stumped about, trying to sound helpful.

"At least we know we've got them cornered in here somewhere."

"Somewhere," echoed Fortunata. "But where?"

Tsarmina lowered her voice as she called the other two close. "We don't know how much those mice overheard. They must not leave this room alive. Let us search every corner thoroughly.''

Stretched out flat beneath the bed, Martin could see the paws of their pursuers. He watched as they dispersed in separate directions, then turned toward Gonff.

In the name of mice! That little thief was the absolute limit. Gonff had actually closed his eyes and appeared to be napping. Martin prodded him urgently. The three hunters were getting closer to the bed as other hiding places were discounted.

"Ashleg, have you checked those wall hangings properly?"

"Yes, Milady. Maybe they're up on top of the bed canopy."

The pine marten was actually leaning against the side of the bed now. Gonff patted Martin rea.s.suringly as he wriggled silently past him. The warrior mouse could only watch in dumb suspense as his daring little friend went to work.

Gonff carefully pulled the end of Ashleg's long cloak beneath the bed, slitted it expertly with his blade and crawled a short way toward the bedhead, where a tall, heavy folding screen stood to one side. Working quickly, he tied the slit ends of the unsuspecting marten's cloak around one leg of the screen.

Gonff did three things almost in one movement. He p.r.i.c.ked Ashleg's good paw viciously with his blade, grabbed Martin and shot from beneath the bed, roaring as they went.