On the fringe of Mossflower, Kotir stood dark and forbidding, the very embodiment of evil and tyranny, awaiting the dawn.

* * *

Martin sat bolt upright at the sound of a bird on the outside. He shook Gonff soundly. “Wake up, sleepyhead. It’ll be dawn in less than an hour.”

The mousethief sat up. Rubbing his paws into half-opened eyes, he looked upward to the narrow strip of sky through the barred window slit. “Time to go, matey.”

Gonff took out his slim knifeblade. Sliding it into the keyhole of the cell door, he twitched it back and forth. “Oh good, an easy one.”

With both eyes closed and a smile of pleasure on his chubby face, he jiggled the blade until there was a metallic click. “That’s it, matey. Give it a shove.”

Martin pushed the door, but it refused to open. “It’s still shut. What’s gone wrong?”

Gonff tested it carefully, pushing until he heard a slight rattle. “Bolts. I’ll need a boost—can you hold me up, matey?”

Martin braced his back against the door, cupped his paws and squared his shoulders. “Try me.”

The mousethief climbed up and balanced on his friend’s shoulders.

Martin bore his weight patiently, hoping that Gonff’s talents would do the trick. “How does it look up there?” he asked anxiously.

Gonff’s voice came back punctuated by odd grunts of concentration. “No real problems, matey. Leastways, nothing that a Prince of thieves can’t handle. Ha, rusty old bolts, shove a bit of greasy cheese on ’em with my knifeblade, loop the wire round the bolt handle, then it’s just a matter of wiggle and jiggle and tug until it comes loose, like this one. Ha, got it!”

Martin squared his shoulders once more as Gonff sought a new position. “Now for the other lock. Heehee, this beats scrabbling and climbing up doors, a good strong matey to stand on. Martin, you’re as solid as a rock.”

“Maybe,” Martin grunted. “But I’m not as thick as one, so stop prancing about on the back of my neck like that. I’ve been standing here for ages.”

Gonff was never short of an answer. “Ages, huh? You’ve not been there ten seconds, and the job’s near done. I’ve known clumsy thieves and burglars who’d keep you there until you grew gray whiskers. Just thank your lucky stars you’ve got an honest thief like me to look after you, matey. Look out, here it goes!”

Suddenly the door swung open, and they both tumbled in a heap out into the passage. Gonff was laughing uproariously. Martin clapped a paw across his noisy friend’s mouth. “Sssshhh! You’ll have the guards coming down to check on the din.”

Martin closed the door carefully and rebolted it.

Gonff was halfway along the passage when he noticed Martin was not with him. Glancing back, he saw his friend standing by a cell far down the corridor. It was Gingivere’s cell, and Martin was speaking to the wildcat.

“Gingivere, do you remember me? I’m Martin the Warrior. When I was taken prisoner you were the only one who tried to help me. I’ve not forgotten that, even though we’re on opposite sides. I’ve got to go now, but if there’s a way that I can help you when I’m free, then I will.”