She beckoned the guards with a sleek catlike movement. “Take him away and execute him.”

Lord Greeneyes’ voice halted the guards as he turned to his son. “Gingivere, have you nothing to say? What shall we do with this mouse?”

“Some say that ignorance of the law is no excuse,” Gingivere answered without raising his voice. “Even so, it would be unjust to punish Martin; he is a stranger and could not be expected to know of us or our laws. Also, it would be too easy for us to slay him. He seems an honest creature to me. If it were my decision I would have him escorted from our territory, then given his weapon. He would know better than to come back again.”

Verdauga looked from son to daughter. “Now I will give you my decision. There are enough cowards in the world without killing a brave creature for so little reason. This Martin is a true warrior. On the other side of the scales, if we were to allow him to roam free as the wind on our land, this might be read as a sign of our weakness. It is my judgment that he be put in the cells to cool his paws awhile. After a time he can be set free, provided he is never again so rash as to trespass in my domain.”

Snap!

Everyone present heard the sharp report. Furious at being overruled, Tsarmina had set the sword between the jamb of the door and the stone doorway. With a huge burst of energy she threw her weight against the venerable weapon. Suddenly it broke; the old blade rang upon the floor, leaving her holding the shorn-off handle, which she tossed to a guard.

“Here, throw him in the cells with this tied around his neck. If ever we do release him, then others will see him and realize how merciful we can be. Take the wretch away—the sight of him offends my eyes.”

As the guards tugged on the rope, Martin stood firm resisting them. For a moment his eyes met those of Tsarmina’s. His voice was clear and unafraid. “Your father made a just decision, but yours was the right one. You should have killed me when you had the chance, because I vow that I will slay you one day.”

The spell was broken. The guards hauled on the ropes, dragging Martin off to the cells. In the silence that followed, Tsarmina slumped in her chair and sniggered. “A mouse kill me, indeed! He’s not even worth worrying about.”

Verdauga coughed painfully. He lay back on the pillows. “If you think that, daughter, then you have made a grave mistake. I have seen courage before; it comes in all shapes and sizes. Just because he is a mouse does not make him less of a warrior than me. He has a fighter’s heart—I saw it in his eyes.”

Tsarmina ignored her father and called to Fortunata. “Vixen, mix Lord Greeneyes a stronger potion. He needs sleep after all the excitement. Gingivere, give father his medicine. You are the only one he will take it from.”