“So what did the foraging party bring back?”

“Not a single acorn. The Queen’s not too happy, either.”

“Well, that’s only to be expected.”

“Aye, but it made things worse when Cludd reported that one of our soldiers had been taken by that big old eagle.”

“Who was it?”

“A stoat, they say.”

“Ah well, as long as it wasn’t a weasel.”

“Aye. Can’t stand stoats myself. Nasty sly creatures.”

“Right. Not like us, mate. Anyhow, I’ll bet if the eagle attacked one of our lads he’d weasel his way out of it somehow.”

“Hahaha. That’s a good one. Weasel his way out of it!”

* * *

The waters of the fast-flowing stream glittered in the afternoon sun. All day the three travelers had wandered along the bank, looking for a shallow fording place. Martin gazed up at the mountains. They were much closer now. He could see the green of vegetation at the base changing to basalt and slate-colored rock which soared upward to snow-covered peaks that seemed to support the sky like mythical columns.

Gonff was singing as he trailed his fishing line along.

O the day is fair and blue,
The mountains lie ahead.
Companions good and true,
Our enemies are dead.
I’m longing for the day,
O for that happy time,
When I’ll return to say,
Sweet Columbine, you’re mine.

As they trekked, Young Dinny dug up edible plants and roots to add to their supplies.

Martin sighted a bend ahead with steep sloping banks. “Come on, mates. The stream looks narrower there. Perhaps there’s a way to cross.”

He was right; just around the bend was a sight that gladdened their hearts.

A rope stretched across the water, attached at either end by a deep stake driven into the earth. On the opposite bank a white willow trunk lay in the shallows. Gonff twanged the tautened fibers of the rope.

“It’s a ferry, mateys,” he told them. “See on the other bank? Pity it isn’t on this side of the water. Never mind, even if it means getting wet we’ll cross on this rope.”

Two pairs of unwinking eyes watched them from behind the log on the opposite shore.

Martin waded into the river, holding the rope as a guideline.

“Come on, it’s not too bad,” he called. “Stay on this side of the rope, then the current won’t sweep you downstream.”

Dinny and Gonff followed his example. The going was not too difficult. Paw by paw, they began pulling themselves through the stream. Halfway across, it deepened. They were floating now, but still going forward, aided by the rope.

A shout rang out from the far bank, “Stop right there, strangers!”

A snake and a lizard emerged from behind the willow trunk.

“Looks like trouble, eh, Din,” Gonff whispered.

Martin ignored the warning, continuing to pull himself forward.

Dinny called out a friendly hail. “Goo’ day to ’ee. Us’n’s on’y a crossen, no need t’be afeared.”

The snake reared up, flickering a slim tongue. “Hssss. Nobody crosses without paying us. I’m Deathcoil and this is Whipscale. We are the ford guardians. Pay us, or pay with your lives.”