Florian’s song was abruptly cut off when a soggy tunic flopped in his face. He removed the offending article, which had become tangled with his ears and whiskers, and held it up.

“Which rotter threw this? Own up immediately, wot?” he demanded with an air of injured dignity.

The troupe stared at him in blank innocence. Baby Dwopple shook with malicious mirth, but kept his eyes tight shut, pretending to be asleep. He even threw in a couple of lusty snores for good effect. Deesum stroked his head fondly, murmuring, “So young, yet so talented. One day you will be a great actor!”

Night closed in around the little cart in the woodland as the rain continued to batter down.

5

5

The lake was so huge that nobeast standing on any part of the shoreline could tell that its sweeping vastness held an island at its center. Not even birds, because they knew better than to try to fly across the lake. Whipping up the surface into a frenzy of crested waves, the storm raged throughout the night hours. Rain howled like a wild thing, driven by the winds. From the billowing masses of black and purple-bruised cloud that obscured the moon, thunder crashed and lightning ripped down in a flickering dance across the heaving waters.

Inside Castle Marl a grim-faced band of brown-liveried water rats were trying to drown out the storm noise with music. They plucked at stringed instruments, struck small gongs and played strange melodies on flutes and pipes of varying sizes. From cellars to attics they paraded, up and down the fortress’s many ramps. There were no stairs inside Castle Marl, just steeply sloping ramps, winding or angled, everywhere. The odd group followed a curtained palanquin, a long boxlike affair with silken tasseled drapes around its sides, borne on four thick poles running beneath its length and width. Over a score and a half rats bore the odd conveyance, treading with carefully measured paces, so that the box was kept perfectly steady at all times, and by the side of the palanquin strode a Marlfox. When a sharp tapping noise issued from within the covered box, the carriers stopped moving instantly. A harsh rasping voice sounded from behind the silken curtains.

“Lantur! Tell them to play louder. I will not be disturbed by weather noises, for I am mightier, more powerful than storms! These fools must play louder. The storm stopped me sleeping, so they must outplay it. That is my command!”

The Marlfox, Lantur, strode back to the musicians, who had already heard the order. Nevertheless, she repeated it in the imperious tone of one used to commanding others.

“The High Queen Silth decrees that you play louder. If you disobey the royal word you will all answer to the Teeth of the Deeps. Play louder! You there, bring the Chanters so they may add to the music by singing the High Queen’s praises!”