Part 17 (1/2)

”We don't know if they're on our trail or not. This drizzle should blur our tracks, Triss. I 'ope it keeps up.”

The squirrelmaid indicated the trees ahead. ”When we get to those, I'll s.h.i.+n up one and scan the land.”

Riggan did not stop or even pause to check the pawprints. She knew she was on the right trail.

Kurda clipped a thistle bloom with her blade edge. ”Vorto, ven ve find dem you do nothink, surround dem and leave der rest to me. I vill show dem how I deal mitt runavay slave thieves, long and slow I show dem, yarr!”

Vorto could tell by the look in Kurda's red eyes that she meant every word of it.

On reaching the tree fringe, Triss dropped her foodpack and went up the trunk of a sessile oak with all the skill of a born climber. Vaulting and swinging, she pa.s.sed the middle branches and was soon up in the topmost boughs. Shogg craned his neck back and looked up to where she perched on a high limb.

”Wot's the word, mate, any signs o' the vermin?” His worst fears were confirmed as Triss called down, ”Aye, I can make out Kurda with about a score of Rat-guards coming this way fast. It looks like Riggan slave-catcher is leading themno wonder they got onto us so quick!”

Shogg bit his lip with worry, Every slave at Riftgard knew the name and reputation of Agarnu's relentless tracker. None had ever escaped Riggan.

” Tis bad news for us, mate. The only thing we can do is t'keep runnin' until they're so far from their s.h.i.+p that they gets tired o' chasm' us an' turns back, maybe.”

As Triss began climbing down the oak, she suddenly noticed another squirrel climbing alongside of her. He was a jolly-looking, fat beast, his shoulders crossed with webbing that was stuffed tight with hard green pinecones. She nodded to him; he nodded back and struck up a conversation.

”So you're going to run for it. Well, good luck to you, good luck, that's what I always say.”

Triss noticed that there were many more fat squirrels, all climbing down from neighbouring trees. She arrived back on the ground accompanied by roughly fifty of the creatures.

Shogg bowed politely.

”Good day to ye, friends!”

The one who had spoken to Triss was obviously their leader. He shook rainwater from his huge bushy tail. ”Good, what's good about it? Nothing good about sitting up in a tree getting drenched, that's what I always say!”

Now that she knew the squirrels meant them no harm, Triss felt a lot more at ease with them. She spoke to the leader. ”I'm sorry for trespa.s.sing in your wood, but we'll be gone right away. Sorry we can't stop to talk.”

Tossing up a pinecone and catching it without even looking at it, the squirrel remarked, ”No hurry. I'm Whurp, Chieftain of the Coneslingers. You don't have to run if you prefer walking, that's what I always say.”

He tossed the pinecone high, shook paws with them both, and caught the cone before it fell. Triss was impressed.

”I'm Triss, and my friend's called Shogg. We really do have to go, Whurp. There's not much use walking with those Ratguards hard on our paws. We need to run.”

Whurp tossed his pinecone, batted it with his tail and caught it one-pawed as it bounced off the sessile oak. ”Oh, don't fuss yourself about a few rats, Triss, we can snarl them up here for a good while. You and Shogg follow my daughter Burnby, she'll lead you through the woods and out the other side. We'll see to the rats for you. Rats are bad creatures, that's what I always say.”

Shogg noticed the thong wound about Whurp's paw. ”I see ye carry slings. What d'ye throw from them, cones?”

Whurp tossed the cone he was toying with to Shogg. ”Aye, cones just like that one, good and hard, quite sharp, too. They wouldn't kill a beast, we're not in the business of slaying any creature. Only use them in defence of our territory, that's what I always say.”

Shogg took out his pouch of slingstones from Peace Island. ”These are some stones I was given to use by a friend, far across the seas from here.”

Whurp took the pouch and opened it, pouring forth into his paw the bluey-green, sharp-edged stones. His eyes lit up. ”From far across the seas you say, Shogg. Wonderful, beautiful treasures like these, and you waste them by throwing them away with your sling? Never throw away precious things, that's what I always say!”

He pa.s.sed the pouch back carefully, but Shogg refused it. ”Keep 'em, mate, as a gift from us. Look, we've really got t'go now. Nice meetin' ye, Whurp.”

As Burnby led them off through the trees, Whurp called out, ”Goodbye, friends, and good fortune go with you. I can't thank you enough for these stones. The Coneslingers will treasure them forever. A treasure of great worth is a treasure worth treasuring, that's what I always say!”

Burnby took Triss's paw, giving her a quiet smile. ”I could tell you other things that my dad always says, but I'd need ten seasons to do it.”

Triss squeezed her paw. ”Thank you for your help, but can your dad really stop the Ratguards?”

Burnby plucked a gra.s.s stalk and chewed on it. ”Ask yourself, Triss. Did you see us when you entered our forest? Did you even know all of us were watching you? Coneslingers are invisible when they want to bewe can defend our wood against any number. Shogg, follow behind me. Watch that willow branch, don't touch it!”

When the otter saw the thin cord holding a whippy branch strained in an arc, he understood. ”Haharr, a trap, eh, that'd soon stop anybeast who didn't see it. A good idea, Burnby”

She nodded. ”That's why you must follow directly in my trail. These woods are full of such traps, pits, catapults, nooses. But those rats won't be bothered by them.”

Shogg looked puzzled. ”Why's that, mate?”

Burnby chuckled. ”Because my dad won't even let them get this far. Never let the foebeast enter your home”

Triss interrupted. ”That's what he always says!”

Their laughter echoed through the trees as they strolled in leisurely fas.h.i.+on through the Coneslingers' wood.

Riggan halted at the tree fringe. Kurda came hurrying up with Vorto and the Ratguards.

”Dey go in dere, yarr?”

The slavetracker inspected the ground, then peered up into the trees, sniffing the air suspiciously. ”Aye, yore 'igh-ness, they've gone inter these woods, but there's summat I don't like about this place. I ain't put me paw on it yet, but I'll find out.”

She took a pace into the trees .. . and found out. Three iron-hard green pinecones. .h.i.t Riggan, one on the head, another on the paw, and a third in the throat. She toppled over, senseless.

Immediately the Ratguards threw themselves flat. Vorto placed himself in front of Kurda, s.h.i.+elding her. ”Some-beast up in the trees is attackin' us, marm!”

Kurda signalled as she backed off. ”Archers, shoot arrows at dem, slay der beasts!”

Four Ratguards set shafts to their bows. The first one fired off at a shape high in the trees.

Kurda popped her head up from where she was crouching. ”Gutt, dat teach dem!”

Half an arrow, the pointed part, nicked her paw, and she yelped. ”Yowch! Vot happen?”

The archer gasped in amazement at what he had seen. ”Marm, somebeast up there in that tree, 'e caught me arrer an' snapped it in arf, 'e's throwin' it back!” He ducked as the feathered half bounced off his ear.

Vorto whispered orders to four Ratguards. ”Crawl out an' git Riggan back 'ere. We need 'er.”

The four began to crawl forward, but were peppered so hard with green cones that they were forced to shuffle backward, their shoulders, backs and behinds smarting furiously. His paws numbed by two more flying cones, Vorto dashed off to a small rise in the ground where Kurda was crouching.

”Yore 'ighness, I think we'd better retreat!”

The flat of Kurda's blade whacked him in the midriff. ”Retreat? Vot you t'ink I am? De Princess of Riftgard does not run from sillybeasts who t'row pinecones. Ve stay here and teach dem lesson for insolence!”