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Chapter Eleven

        Brand was feeling very ill. He was sick to his stomach. The feeling had started with the tension the trial initially generated, and the tenser Brand became, the worse his stomach felt. Right now it was all he could do to keep from vomiting.
        The otter glanced over at Vedeshk. The wildcat did not look at him, he kept his vivid green eyes focused ahead.
        If we lose this and he gets executed, it will be my fault, Brand thought. But it would mean more than that too. He thought of those left in Mossflower, and he was pretty sure that they could not all withstand the winter. Without the reinforcements he had promised to bring, the otter felt sure the woodlanders would fall. The sick feeling in his stomach intensified.
        But even so, Brand found himself with a slightly humorous smile. For all the dangers of my job, he thought to himself, I never expected to die like this. It was grim humour, but it was humour none the less.
        Brand and Vedeshk's trial had been on for hours, and no matter what arguments Mat presented, the otter and the wildcat had not been able to gain much ground. They could not fight their way to the surface. They where drowning in a river of biases.
        Nothing seemed to change the currents. They had reminded the villagers that they had shown no sign of hostility, which was rebuked by a reference to Vedeshk's readiness to defend himself. Brand tried to remind the villagers that he wasn't a weasel, but they didn't think it mattered whether he was a weasel or not. Even Mat couldn't convince the villagers that Brand wasn't a vermin.
        "Remember that family that came through here a few seasons back? They called themselves otters, but they were quite decent."
        "But they weren't armed, were they Mat!" Arit almost screamed. The mouse was covered in sweat from his ceaseless tirade. "No, they weren't! This so called "Otter" was armed and he was accompanied by an armed Wildcat!"
        Brand glanced at the old mouse.
        "Do people always rant like this during trials here?"
        Many pairs of accusing eyes turned onto the otter, sending hate filled glares at him. If looks could kill, I would be dead right now, Brand thought. Of all the villagers however, it was the old mouse with the staff that made the biggest impression. He clutched hiss staff hard and stood with fur bristling in all directions. And he let loose in a voice full of wrath.
        "We will not take that sort of talk from you, vermin!"
        Brand tried to keep his composure as best he could. He hoped he didn't look like he was going to sick up.
        "You seem to have come to the vermin conclusion pretty fast. Has the jury reached it's verdict so quickly?"
        If Brand had thought that his comments would help his cause, he was dead wrong. The wails of rage from the sides of the hall were deafening. Vedeshk laid his sensitive ears back, trying to close them off in an effort to stem what nearly amounted to torture for a wildcat.
        The old mouse let the tirade go on for some time before beating his staff on the floor to restore order. However, he did not do that until after the guards had been forced to forcibly restrain several mice, including one who tried to put a dagger in Brand. The old mouse cleared his throat.
        "While I share your outrage at the vermin's unjust accusations, I must remind you that order must be maintained. Mat, Arit, you may continue."
        Arit stood up, his face flushed, and began to speak. Mat cut him off however.
        "You brought up an interesting point there-"
        "Do not interrupt!" Arit screamed.
        "Calm yourself, Arit." The old mouse said with some degree of calm. "If Mat has a point to bring up related to what we where speaking of, let us hear it."
        Arit stared at the old mouse, but said nothing. The old mouse with the staff nodded to Mat.
        "I would like someone to examine the weapons carried by the accused." Mat stated.
        "Why!" Arit exploded. "Everyone saw them!"
"I would like to determine what sort of craftsbeastship went into them. Perhaps we can even find out where they where from."
        "There's no reason-"
        The old mouse tapped his staff again, and Arit fell silent.
        "I find Mat's request reasonable. Will Galtari please come forward?"
        Galtari was a heavily built mouse. This and his clothing suggested he was a blacksmith. Or quite possibly a weapons-smith. Brand hoped for the latter.
        There was an awkward silence for a few moments. Mat cleared his throat.
        "Were are the weapons of the accused?"
        The old mouse looked around.
        "Who took the outlanders weapons?"
        "I did," stated one of the mice. "They're in the toolshed."
        "Take a few strong mice and get them for us will you?" Asked the old mouse.
        "Sir, it's just a waste of time. Why don't we just leave it and get the vermin convicted?"
        "I can't just block evidence for no reason other than the fact that that it will take time. Someone go get those weapons."
        Several mice rose and silently left the hall, presumably to get the concerned articles. The hall fell silent for some time except for low talking from near the sides of the hall. Brand was glad their weapons would be more closely examined, but he was not at all glad for the delay. The tension was unbearable.
        Finally, the mice returned, carrying Brand and Vedeshk's weapons. They laid them on a table near the front. The old mouse tapped his staff on the floor several more times.
        "Will the village smiths please come to the front?"
        Several mice stood and walked to the table where the weapons lay. The old mouse turned a severe glare towards the audience.
        "That includes all the smiths, even the silver smith. So you three will come up right now."
        Three more mice came to the table and gazed at the weapons. It was quite some time before anyone spoke. And when someone did speak, it was Mat.
        "What can you tell us about the weapons?"
        "Shut up Mat!"
        There was a rapping sound from the front of the hall.
        "That is most inappropriate, Taris! Mat was asking a question. And it looked to me like you were done anyway."
        Taris looked down and blushed.
        "I was done. I just was offended that such a… traitor… would ask-"
        "Traitor!" Mat screamed. "How dare you! I am not a traitor! I honestly do believe that these people are innocent!"
        "Silence!"
        The old mouse looked out across the hall.
        "This is getting tiresome. I would ask you all to cease your irrelevant bicker and mud-slinging. I want you to all show proper respect. Otherwise, I'll have to start to crack down."
        Nods and yells of "Yes Sir!" echoed down the hall. The old mouse stood and watched for a time before tapping his staff again.
        "You may continue. Please remain on your best behavior for the rest of the trial."
        The old mouse glanced at the smiths.
        "What are your conclusions?"
        The smiths shared an uncomfortable series of glances.
        "They're well made," one of them replied at last.
        "How well made?" asked mat.
        "Very well made." One of the smiths replied with a glare. "Though I'm not sure what quality of pommel stones they have. I really on Herj for analyzing those sorts of things."
        "Can Herj analyze these for us, then?"
        It took a near threat to get Herj on the floor. The mouse quickly bent to examine the blue pommel stones of Brand's swords.
        "I'd say that they're of pretty good quality, but that they certainly aren't the most perfect gemstones I've ever seen. They're definitely pretty good stones."
        The mouse examined other weapons the duo had carried, and he found the stones on them to be of similar levels, though a few of them weren't quite as good.
        Mat spoke again.
        "Do these appear to be vermin weapons?"
        "That means nothing!" Arit yelled. "They could have gotten the weapons of someone else!"
        Brand knew more about his blades than Mat did, and he decided to step in at that point.
        "Then why are they so perfectly balanced for me? The sizes of the weapons you confiscated are ideal for me and my companion. And I would ask you how two lone vermin could get weapons that fit them so well."
        "You could be runaways from a hoard!" Arit fired back.
        At this point, Brand put an arrow through his own paw.
        "I don't think so. Vermin almost always confiscate the weapons of those who leave their hordes, and often those who try to leave are executed. To top it off, very few vermin have such fine weapons."
        "You certainly know your vermin."
        That did it. Brand exploded.
        "It's my job to know vermin! I'm a warrior, you pint-sized nuisance! I need to know my opponents, @#$% you!"
        Even that couldn't make a dent in the preconceptions of a majority of the mice. What followed was chaos, complete utter chaos. The old mouse beat his staff on the floor repeatedly to no avail. Vedeshk looked like he would rather be anywhere but here as he laid his ears back against his head.
        Finally, the old mouse ordered the guards to restore order, and they did it. They threatened to kick out the worst of the screamers, and they demanded that the audience be silent.
        The old mouse rapped his staff on the floor even after the guards had restored order. His frosty glare swept the room.
        "Alright. I think that you all need to cool down a little. We are taking a recess. Meet back here when the bell is rung."
        Mat looked sadly at Brand and Vedeshk.
        "I'll meet you shortly to discuss our strategy, but it doesn't look good."
        Brand nodded. It seemed that all their defendant had managed to do was destroy his own reputation.

***

        Craydon stared down at the village below him and snarled. He hated it when his sentries couldn't tell what to report and what not to report. What the sentries saw could be important. Such as now. And he hadn't gotten the report until more than half a day after the sentry went of duty! Hopefully it wouldn't matter. But it could matter. If the reports he had were true, the Wildcat knew that his dilemma would be over. He would attack the village again, the possibility of heavy losses would not stop him this time. But if it wasn't true, he would have more considering to do.
        Craydon's sharp ears picked up the faint shuffling noises of approaching beasts. His hand went to his heavy broadsword, and he turned to face those who were approaching. They were two of his own guards, a weasel and a ferret, and they were almost dragging a rat toward were Craydon stood. I must be getting old, the wildcat thought, I should have heard them farther off.
        Craydon waited as the trio climbed up the hill to his position. The expressions on the faces of his guards were grim, the expression on the face of the rat was terrified. Craydon smoothed his expression into one of a competent commander waiting for a report. And he did just that, he waited for a report.
        "Report, lieutenant."
        The ferret lieutenant saluted Craydon.
        "Soldier Frindron is here for questioning, my Lord."
        "Excellent work, Lieutenant. You may return to your usual duties."
        The two guards walked down the hill. Craydon let them move a ways off before speaking to Frindron.
        "So, Frindron, I hear that you have something to report. Get it off your chest double time!"
        Craydon's tone was brisk and competent, but not particularly menacing. Frindron panicked, however.
        "Sir! I saw a wildcat, sir!"
        "A wildcat. Can you be any more specific, Frindron?"
        "Yes sir. I actually though I was seeing you, but I guess I wasn't. He was travelling with an otter. A big one, who was very well armed."
        A woodlander, Craydon thought. That suggested Terok, who was more open than Vedeshk. But Craydon couldn't be sure without more proof.
        "What about him was different from me?"
        "Well, he didn't have a red cloak sir."
        "What colour was it?"
        "It was a dark colour sir, it was sort of difficult to tell at range."
        :"Would you say it was closer to green or gray?"
        "Green, unless it was a dark gray."
        Which it is, Craydon thought with annoyance.
        "Okay, what did he carry?"
        "He carried a spear and-"
        "Spear. That is what I needed to know." Vedeshk, that surprised Craydon, he would have thought it was Terok. But Terok was a definite archer. Vedeshk was an archer too, but he carried a smaller bow. And Terok probably wouldn't carry a spear. So, probably Vedeshk. And that made the job a little harder. Vedeshk would be harder to beat in a duel, since he didn't rely on his bow as much as Terok did.
        "What happened when he entered the village, Frindron?"
        "He and the otter were arrested."
        "Arrested?" Had he not had a sketchy briefing beforehand, Craydon might have had his composure break a little. But he had been briefed. Frindron was sweating, and that wasn't just because of the heat.
        "Well, they were taken into custody, at least. I don't know what happened to them after that. They took them to the town hall, and they didn't come out during my shift."
        "Thank you, Frindron, you may go."
        The rat let loose a sigh of relief and quickly headed back down the hill.
        "Oh, and you've got dish duty until I tell you otherwise."
        Craydon ignored Frindron's groan of dismay. He had to consider how to plan this. But he really could use some additional info. Perhaps he should consult the other lookouts who had been on since Frindron's watch.
        Craydon began striding down the hill, towards were his troops waited.

***

        Brand ate nothing for lunch. In fact, he threw up during the short recess. It was almost a relief to have done so, despite the smell, it eased the knot in his stomach somewhat.
        The recess was too short and too long. Brand and Vedeshk did not get enough time to consult with Mat much, but the tension was unbearable. Despite having thrown up once, Brand still wondered if he was going to vomit during the trial.
        As the trio walked back to the courtroom, Brand leaned close to Mat and spoke into his ear.
        "I'm sorry about having destroyed you're good standing with this community."
        "It's all right, Brand. I'm not sure I'm going to want to be part of this community after this."
        Mat looked at the otter with wet eyes.
        "I'll fight the charges top the end, but don't get your hopes up. There's just too much hate. Arit didn't even have all that strong a set of arguments."
        "I know." Vedeshk noted.
        "Do you mind not eavesdropping?" Brand asked irritably.
        Vedeshk grinned for the first time in a long while.
        "How can I not hear you? I have sensitive ears, and it's not like you're speaking all that quietly."
        At that point the defendants reached their seats, and that ended their conversation.
        It went on for over an hour. A ceaseless tirade from Arit that was as repetitive as it was weak. Actually, the arguments was very strong with the village mice, but some more objective groups would have found it very weak…
        It might have gone on for longer still, except that one event occurred that changed everything…
        A sentry ran into the room, hollering at the top of his lungs.
        "Attack! Attack! Attack!"

***

        For several moments, all was still. And then suddenly, nothing was still, mice were fleeing the room. Some ran to arm themselves, some ran for cover. Brand assumed that there was some other secure shelter, as this hall seemed to be a very secure building. Except that actually, the building had looked like it held a lot more than the meeting hall and storage areas from outside…
        Of course. An armory. Probably attached to this building but accessed from a different entrance. Regardless however, except for Mat and one guard who had stood watch over them during the trial, everyone was gone or going, even the old mouse was making a hasty exit.
        The guard looked like he was about to leave, but then he walked slowly to the doors and bolted them. He turned to face Brand and Vedeshk.
        "You scum aren't getting out of here anytime soon."

***

        The guard walked up to Mat, menace on his features.
        "Well, little idiot, would you like to see what I think of your disgraceful actions?"
        "What are you talking about?" Mat asked.
        "Isn't it obvious?" the guard sneered, "You defended two vermin. And you're going to pay for that."
        "Leave him alone." Brand pushed back his chair and slowly stood.
        "Oh, what are you going to do with your paws tied, fat weasel?"
        Brand grinned.
        "Oh, a paw-tied otter isn't exactly helpless."
        He took a few steps forward and lashed out with his heavy tail, knocking the guard unconscious. Mat gaped at him.
        "He's not dead, just unconscious," the big otter told him, "get his knife and cut me loose."
        "What?"
        "Cut me loose! Don't worry, you won't get hanged for it, because I think this is my best chance for swinging the verdict in our favour.
        Mat it appeared, didn't seem to handy with a knife, but he got Brand's paws free, then started on Vedeshk's while the big otter was still screaming his head off and flaying his forelegs everywhere, trying to work the cramps out of them.
        But even before he'd managed to loosen everything, Brand was moving. The big otter flung up the bolt on the doors and threw them wide. He let loose a wild cry as the doors reached the limits of their hinges and squealed in protest before swinging back inwards.
        "Mossssssssssssssssssssssflower!"

***

        Vedeshk ran to the table of the hall, were his weapons still lay. Quickly, the big Wildcat seized his quiver and threw it on, pausing momentarily to buckle it. Then he seized his quasi-longbow and nocked an arrow.
        Mat gazed wide-eyed as the Wildcat ran from the hall. And then he heard the faint twang of a bowstring.
        Keeping the guard's dagger in one paw, Mat dragged the unconscious guard behind the table, then drew the sword the bulkier mouse had carried. Even two handed, he could barely lift it. Perhaps I should use the knife, he though. Or perhaps I should pray.

***

        Brand ran through the streets of the village at full tilt, looking for an opponent. He hoped he wouldn't be given anyone too challenging to begin with, as he hadn't taken the time to recover his weapons.
        Actually, he could have launched his attack several times during his search. However, he was looking for an individual vermin, or a small group of vermin, he wasn't quite ready to take on larger groups just yet.
        The big otter turned a corner, and finally, he saw a pair of suitable targets. One was a skinny weasel, the other, a very large fox. With a quarterstaff that would probably be big enough for Brand. If he could get it.
        The fox yelled a warning to his companion as Brand came barreling down the street. The weasel however, had little interest in fighting an otter that was far bigger than he was. He took one look at Brand, squeaked, and ran.
        The fox turned to yell out accusations of cowardice, and when he turned back, Brand was upon him.
        The fox swung a massive blow at Brand. Massive, but not fast. Brand dodged and lashed out with his tail, sending the big fox forward. However, it appeared that while not the fasted creature Brand had ever encountered, the fox was a durable opponent, and he was quickly back on his footpaws.
        Not quickly enough, however. Brands second blow caught the fox in the stomach, causing the creature to keel over. Then it took one heavy blow to the back of the fox's head.
        "I'll take this, thank you." Brand told the unconscious fox as he grabbed the quarterstaff. It was still short for the big otter, but it would do. In fact, Brand thought, it's probably a better weapon for me than it was for the fox. It was probably to big for him to wield well.
        Brand gave his new acquisition a few fast spins and a jab, then ran back towards the hall.

***

        Arit stood outside the armoury, his pike clenched in both paws. They were losing this battle. They were not losing it quickly, but they were losing it. There were too many vermin and too few mice.
        The vermin moved to charge once more, and Arit held his pike for a jab. He could probably take at least one vermin here, perhaps even two or three. But he might very well go down this time.
        The vermin regrouped and made another charge, spurred on by their wildcat leader. Their wildcat leader who bore a strong resemblance the wildcat Arit had been prosecuting. Had the evil creature's image not been burned into his brain so vividly, he might even have mistaken this creature for the other. But this creature was a little older, and he dressed and armed himself differently. He also seemed more evil.
        Mat swung his pike at a large ferret who was trying to get close with a sword. His pike struck the sword, and the ferret tried to get in closer as Mat pulled back for a thrust. The mouse got the big ferret, but by now more vermin were swarming in.
        "Mossssssssflower!"
        The massive, fin pawed weasel charged in, a quarterstaff whirring in his paws. His staff slammed into vermin as he tried to charge in at the mice. But if he wanted to hurt his own compatriots, that was fine with Arit. It left him open.
        Arit stepped forward and thrusted with his pike. And caught a fox as it stepped in between him and his target.
        "Thanks!" The big weasel yelled. "I could use some help out here!"
        Arit stared dumbfoundedly at the big weasel.
        "Behind you!" The vermin yelled.
        Arit didn't look behind him, but he saw the weasel's ploy. The staff came crashing down with massive force. And it did not hit him. Perhaps the weasel's aim had not been good, but that didn't seem to fit with the show the creature had exhibited…
        But there had been the crack. Arit knew it had come from behind him…
        A second blow streaked over Arit's head to hit something behind him, and the big weasel was almost stabbed. And Arit made his decision. He stepped forward and jabbed at the weasel's attackers with his pike…

***

        Vedeshk let loose again and again with his bow, wincing with each shot. He knew he risked shooting Brand, but he knew that the otter needed help. Fast.
Vedeshk crouched and brought out a whole pawfull of arrows. He laid all but one on the ground, then began nocking and loosing his shafts in rapid succession.
        "Vedeshk!" A voice boomed. Vedeshk turned his attention to were the voice had come from.
        "Craydon!" He snarled.
        Craydon strode into view in his red cloak. His manner was crisp and business-like.
        "Shall we settle this, Vedeshk?"
        "Call your troops off and I will settle it. Otherwise, I have a friend to protect, and I doubt you're a good arrow dodger."
        "That seems acceptable. Prepare to draw, brother."
        Craydon barked orders at his troops, who quickly pulled back. A few mice rushed forward at them, but most held defensive positions. Brand gave Vedeshk a weak grin and a positive paw signal, though he had a couple of nasty gashes on one side.
        "Let it begin." Craydon intoned with relish.
        "What about my spear?"
        Craydon replied with obvious enjoyment.
"Hey, you agreed to duel after I called off my troops. Now it's your turn to keep your end of the bargain." With that, Craydon launched his assault.
Vedeshk drew his sword just in time to parry Craydon's first blow, and he was instantly on the defensive. Not that Vedeshk could do much should he have been on the offensive: Craydon, unlike Vedeshk, carried a shield. Which, combined with a greater skill with his sword, was making life difficult for Vedeshk. The wildcat parried, but he knew he couldn't withstand the assault much longer.
Vedeshk's eyes passed Brand for just a second, and a message seemed to pass between them. "Hold on, friend," Brand's look seemed to say.
And then the otter was running off the scene.

***

Brand set away from the scene at a dead run. He knew that Vedeshk wouldn't want him to start fighting Craydon, but he also knew that he had to do something to help his friend. And that was what he was doing. It wouldn't take him long to get what he needed, but then Vedeshk didn't have long…
Brand reached the doors to the hall and found them bolted. Furiously, he pounded on them.
        "Mat! Unbolt the blasted door! I need to get in!"
        There was the sound of something moving inside the hall.
        "Mat! If you don't move I'm going to have to break down this door!"
        Brand wondered if he'd actually be able to break the door. He was an otter and the building had been designed by mice, but still…
        There was more shuffling from within the door. Brand stepped back a little and threw himself against the door. The door reverberated, but the bolt didn't give way.
        "Hold on Brand! I can't open them till I get this done. And the way they're secured, you'll hurt yourself before your break them down!
        Brand waited for what seemed an hour to hear the door latch come loose. Though it had only been a few seconds, the big otter almost threw himself against the door before it opened.
        "What took you so long?" Brand demanded.
        "What do you mean? That only took a few seconds," said Mat.
        "What the heck were you doing?"
        "I was, er, moving the furniture that was in front of the door."
        "Why- never mind."
        Brand seized the item he was looking for and once again set of at a dead run.

***

        Villagers held their breath as Vedeshk and Craydon fought in the street. Those who could tell the difference between the two wildcats were dismayed by the way the fight was going, Vedeshk was holding onto his life with the skin of his teeth. The younger Wildcat had been losing ground since the battle started, they were now almost out of the village.
        For Vedeshk, each second was a fight for his life. He was tiring, and he had not made any significant strikes against Craydon.
        "I would have though you of all people would be a challenge, brother. But you don't seem to be doing so well."
        Vedeshk gritted his teeth and parried another attack. Yet another close call. He wasn't doing so well.
        And then Brand appeared at the end of the street, clutching something that brought hope to Vedeshk. The Otter raised his paw and signalled a three second count. Vedeshk understood what he needed to do. He tried to put some distance between himself and Craydon. And then he made his move.
        With a twist and a heave, Vedeshk threw his sword at Craydon. The weapon punched through Craydon's shield, but only got his shield foreleg.
        Craydon lunged in for the kill, sword ready to strike.
"Nice try…" Vedeshk wasn't even listening to the rest as he made ready for the leap.
Vedeshk's spear came sailing through the air, propelled by Brand's tremendous throw. And Vedeshk leaped, catching the weapon as it sailed past. In one continuous motion the Wildcat turned the weapon and swept down, delivering a killing blow to the surprised Craydon.
Cheers rose from the mice, and yells of dismay and anger rose from the vermin as Craydon fell to the street.

***

Brand gazed down from the steps of one of the mouse dwellings. The vermin were in shock, but they were reacting, soon it would be time to fight again. Still, he could spare a second to congratulate Vedeshk…
"Nice catch," he told his friend.
Vedeshk finally looked up.
"Thank you," he replied. Suddenly the Wildcat's eyes widened. "Look out!"
        Vedeshk's sharp eyes had given Brand all the warning he had any right to expect, but even so it was a close call. The black-fletched crossbow bolt whistled past his head as he threw himself to the ground. Brand didn't stop moving though. He rolled, trying to disrupt the aim of any additional snipers.
        Vedeshk roared and pointed out into the plain.
        "Over there!" The Wildcat yelled. He seized his bow, and with many mice following, set of in pursuit of the snipers.

***

        Secara knocked Exocet off his footpaws.
        "Blast you! Now you've missed and given off are position!"
        Exocet didn't even try to dispute that.
        "We should recrank and try and take these guys down."
        "Are you crazy! We'd never take them all down. Run for it!"
        Exocet lifted his brow with a slight muscle gesture.
        "Secara, we're on a plain. Were do you want us to run to? They'll go after us."
        "There's a very rough stream near here. I don't know if the otter will risk going in after us, but it's our only chance of getting out of here alive. Move!"

***

        Brand ran to the table in the hall again, this time unsheathing his swords. Mat was asking him what was going on, but Brand wasn't listening. He had assassins to chase.
        Rushing out into the streets, Brand found that some of the vermin were fighting instead of fleeing. With a wild cry, the otter threw himself into the fray. The mice were fighting well, and it shouldn't take him long to send the vermin packing with their help.
        Brand launched a series of lightning-fast attacks that made use of the joints that joined forepaw and foreleg. The movement of those joints wasn't exactly good for them, but it did make for fast blows. As the vermin learned that first hand.
        It did not take long for Brand to kill or scare off most of the vermin. Surveying a street now occupied by mice, the otter decided that it was now time for him to resume his chase. He set out full tilt across the plain.

***

        Vedeshk was an excellent sprinter, and he led the pursuers by a considerable margin. Very considerable. He was still in the lead even after slowing down. The wildcat glanced back at the mice behind him.
        Should I wait? he asked himself. Being up front like this can be dangerous…
        As Vedeshk glanced back, he spotted a figure significantly larger than the mice. And that figure was approaching fast. Vedeshk grinned. It appeared Brand wanted a piece of the snipers too.
        Vedeshk's ears picked up running water ahead, though it hardly registered. He had closed his range enough to begin dealing with the fleeing assassins.
        The Wildcat aimed as well as he could while pounding down the plain, then loosed his shaft.

Oops. Darn it! Didn't post this with the last post. Oh, well, this time you're getting the rest of it.

Secara panted as she made her headlong rush toward the stream. The Pine Marten couldn't figure out how the wildcat kept gaining, all the other pursuers were falling behind. Frankly though, it didn't matter how he was doing it, he just was. And even with the other pursuers falling behind, Secara didn't want to stop and deal with the wildcat. It would give her other pursuers time to game ground.
The Pine Marten glanced back and swore. The first thing that made her swear was that she saw the otter approaching fast. The second thing that made her swear was that the wildcat shot Roma. Secara gritted her teeth.
"Deal with the cat!" she yelled. Abruptly, she altered course away from her squad.
Not everyone was into obeying Secara's orders, of course. Many of the Eliminators kept running. Secara suspected that a lot of that was due to the fact that she was trying to distance herself from them during her escape. However, a couple of squad members turned to deal with the Wildcat. Both of them died. Secara's profanity was remarkably quite, as she was rather short on breath.
There was a panting yell from further back.
"The Pine Marten's mine, Vedeshk!"
Secara didn't look back, she just kept up her headlong run for the stream and what little safety it's wild rapids presented.
She reached the small drop off just above the rapids in the nick of time. Secara turned to find the otter almost on top of her. She shifted her crossbow and let loose. Of course, the otter saw her lining up and rolled, slashing at were Secara's legs as he came up. His sword passed through thin air. Secara had already made a twisting leap backwards. She disappeared from view. And then there was a large splash.
Brand looked down as Secara was swept away by the rapids, and then he turned his back and strode away. He did not particularly want to watch the Pine Marten die like that.

***

        Brand and Vedeshk returned to the village among ragged cheers from many of the assembled mice. How strange, thought Brand, that only an hour before many of them had wanted to see the duo dead. And interestingly enough, Arit, the prosecutor, seemed to be among the most vocal of those cheering. Brand smiled and almost broke into tears.
We earned their trust, he thought We earned their trust.
        The old mouse stepped forward.
        "Well. It would appear that perhaps we have a strong reason to give you a second chance. I think that you shouldn't have much trouble getting of the hook."
        "They shouldn't have any trouble. I'm dropping the charges."
        The old mouse looked at Arit in surprise.
        "Really?"
        "Yes. Frankly, I'd say that they've earned the rights we would give any other guests. I'd say that they deserve them, given how we've treated them so far."
        "Well then." The old mouse raised his voice. "It appears that the trial of Brand and Vedeshk has ended. They are now guests of our community, and shall be respected as such."
        There were a few cheers at that. The old mouse bowed.
        "You may stay here as long as you wish, friends."
        "Thank you for your offer," Brand replied, "But I have some important jobs that require me to remain mobile. However, I could maybe use a reload for my ration pack. I should be departing tomorrow."
        A silence descended over the village.
        "I am not holding a grudge against you for the treatment I received. Frankly, I might have done the same in your position."
        Whether or not that was true, that did seem to calm the mice down a little. But what happened next did not.
        "I'm coming with you."
        Brand stared at Mat.
        "What?"
        "I'm coming with you. After what happened with that trial, I don't want to stay here any more."
        There was a very mixed reaction from the mice at that.
        "Mat, don't think your people are bad. They made a mistake, but I don't consider them bad. And frankly, if anyone is in a position to hold a grudge, it's me. So I don't think you need to pack you bags."
        "But I do. I am. I saw the way they acted and was ashamed because of it."
        "All the more reason to stay."
        Brand and Mat turned to look at the old mouse with the staff.
        "This village will need a new leader someday. I think that Mat's performance today qualifies him as a major candidate."
        Mat stood speechless.
        "I think you could do more for this village than you could for me, Mat," Brand told the young mouse.
        Mat stood still for some time.
        "All right," he said in a deliberate tone of voice, "I'll stay."
        Yet another cheer rose from the mice. Brand gave Mat a slap on the back that, while not all that hard from the otter's perspective, almost knocked the mouse to the ground.
        "You'll make a good leader, Mat."
        Mat looked Brand in the eye.
        "I hope I made the right choice."
        Brand hoped so too. In reality, he definitely did not want Mat tagging along, the mouse would slow him and Vedeshk down. But he did think that things would work out okay for Mat. But he couldn't be sure.
        The old mouse again bowed to Brand and Vedeshk.
        "Friends, I am Syon, leader of this village. Let me welcome you."
        Brand shook the mouse's paw very carefully.
        "Thank you. I am honoured to be here. However, I would like to ask you a question."
        "And what would that be?"
        "When's dinner? For some reason my stomach felt a little off earlier today."
        Syon nodded.
        "The prison food, perhaps?"
        Brand grinned.
"Perhaps."

***

        Secara rose slowly from the shallows, wincing with almost every movement. She wasn't sure whether she should feel like the world was with her or against her… she was lucky that she was alive and not seriously injured, but she wasn't exactly feeling her best.
        She took a look at her crossbow's string and swore. It was soaked, though she knew she should have expected it to be that way. The fins of her crossbow bolts were probably soaked too…
        She touched her quiver and swore more violently. Yes, the fins of the bolts were soaked… wherever they were. She'd have to get some new bolts. Fortunately, if she could get into the village she could replace them in all likelihood. But she wasn't up to that just yet.
        But the otter will feel a bolt between his shoulders, she thought to herself. That was still certain.