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Princess Kurda was considered by all to be a highly skilled swordbeast, the best blade at Riftgard since her grandsire, great King Sarengo. She was a Pure Ferret, as were all of the royal blood, creamy white from tailtip to nose, with coral pink eyes. Kurda worked hard at being the best. Every morning from breakfast to lunch she could be found practising in her weapon chamber. This particular morning was no exception.

Rows of turnips hung by strings from the rafters. Two squirrel slaves, one a young maid, the other an old grizzled male, stood by, awaiting her commands. The Princess donned a single long-sleeved glove of ecru linen. Pulling it tight on her paw, she nodded at the long rack of swords, her voice curt and imperious. 'De heavy sabre, yarr!'

Triss the squirrelmaid hastily wrapped an oiled rag about her paws and lifted the heavy sabre from the rack by its blade, carefully avoiding getting oil on the leather-bound hilt. Kurda flexed her limbs gracefully. Without even a glance at Triss, she grabbed the sword, drawing the blade so swift and hard from the squirrelmaid's grasp that it sliced through the oiled rag and nicked her paw. Triss leaped smartly out of the way, her teeth clenched in pain as the ferret Princess went slashing at the turnips. With deadly accuracy, the heavy sabre made the air thrum, chopping through the solid vegetables. Halves of turnip flew everywhere, striking both slaves, bouncing off the floor and caroming from the walls until there was nothing left but straggled roots dangling from the strings. Kurda wiped a scrap of turnip from her cheek with the linen glove, panting slightly. Holding the sabre point forward to Triss, the ferret grated, 'Clean diss good. I try rapier now, yarr, de rapier.'

Triss hurried to select the rapier Kurda had indicated.

The old male squirrel, Dmfo, scrambled to clear the floor of turnip pieces, careful to wipe any wet spots, lest the Princess should slip. It would go badly for both slaves if she did, as they knew from bitter experience.

Fixing her paw firmly in the basket hilt of the rapier, Kurda whipped the keen flexible blade back and forth, enjoying the sound it made. Triss signalled Dmfo with her eyes; he skirted the walls furtively until he arrived behind his young friend. Diligently cleaning the sabre blade upon her oiled rag, Triss watched Kurda work with the rapier. Poising herself like a dancer, with one paw outstretched, she attacked the root stems on the string ends.

Snick! Whip! Zip!

The blade struck with swift snakelike movements, snicking the roots off at the string, though the last two strikes missed the roots, severing the strings. Kurda snorted with anger. Dropping the sword carelessly, she rapped out more commands.

'Get me de straight sword, middle size! You get ready to t'row ven I say. Move yourselves!'

Drufo ran and picked up two of the larger chunks of cut turnip. Triss grabbed the rapier and selected a long, medium-weight straight sword, with a cross-hilt and fine-honed double blade.

The ferret Princess snatched it impatiently from her, whirling the blade and shouting at Drufo, 'T'row! T'row!'

Throwing both pieces of turnip upward, Drufo covered his head with both paws, jumping out of the way. Kurda slashed up, then sideways, in two speedy movements. She cut one piece, but the other thudded to the ground untouched.

Kurda's pink eyes blazed with anger at her error. Drufo was bending to pick up the pieces when she whipped the flat of the blade viciously across his back.

'Stupid oaf! Ven I say t'row, you t'row dem proper. T'row high. Vot do you fink I am? You t'ick mudbrain bun-glepaws!'

Drufo stayed bent over, still protecting his head with both paws as the ferret vented her spleen on him with the flat of the swordblade. Knowing her old friend was in danger of losing his life, Triss yelled as she began throwing turnip chunks in the air with all the haste she could muster.

'Princess, I can throw better than that old fool, look. Hup! Hup! I can send them higher too. Ready, throw!'

The ploy diverted Kurda's attention. She turned and chopped both chunks as they came down. The squirrelmaid, who was ready with two more, made sure she tossed them high and slow. The sword cut through the chunks easily. Kurda was out of breath, but her temper had improved. She leaned on the sword, nodding and panting. 'You t'row good; dat's de vay to t'row turnips, yarr!'

The door opened and another Pure Ferret ambled in. He was bigger than his sister and had a silly grin all over his face.

Kurda addressed her brother contemptuously. 'Vot do you vant, Bladd bootnose?'

Bladd was used to his sister's insulting manner. His droopy oversized gut wobbled as he chuckled. 'Huh huh huh huh, you make a better cook than a swordbeast, yarr. You still choppin' turnips for de stew, liddle sister. Huh huh!'

She raised the sword, advancing on him. 'Von day I chop you for de stew, lard barrel. Yarr, I chop you good. Vy you come here, eh?'

Bladd shuffled to the door and held it half open, creating a shield between them. He poked his tongue childishly at Kurda. 'King vant to see you, yarr, he mad about de herrinks. He say come now, quick, or he put a big lock on his door.'

Kurda pointed at him with the sword, her bad mood renewed. 'Sneaknose, you been tellink tales to King about me!'

Bladd took off downstairs, laughing idiotically, with his sister hard on his heels.

Triss helped Drufo up as the door slammed behind the two Pure Ferrets. She steadied the old squirrel.

'Are you all right, Drufo? She didn't cut you, did she?'

He smiled, rubbing his back ruefully. 'Thanks t'you, she didn't, missy, thanks t'you. Huh, swordbeast? That white streak o' slime ain't half the swordbeast yore dad was. White streak o' slime!'

Triss chuckled silently at the way her old friend often repeated phrases. She set about gathering up the cut turnips. 'Lend a paw with these, you old grumbler. Let's get them out to the others. Every bit helps.'

The squirrelmaid poked her head over the sill of the high chamber window and imitated the harsh skrike of a seagull. Far below a gang of creatures was working, laying a path of pine logs to make a walkway between the sloping grass hill and the rocky shore of the river. It would run from the gates of Riftgard fortress, along its edge, to the jetty. Moored at the pier's end, facing downriver to the sea, was a ship. It was small, with one square purple sail, a very pretty little craft, skilfully built and wonderfully ornamented.

The workers, an assortment of squirrels, mice, hedgehogs and otters, looked upward at the window. A slim, pretty sea ottermaid named Sleeve murmured, 'Stan' aside, mates, 'ere comes supper, thanks to miz Triss.'

As they dropped the turnips down, Triss questioned Drufo about her father, whom she had never known.

'Do you remember my father? What was he like, Drufo?'

The old squirrel shook his head fondly. 'Like no other, young 'un, like no other! There was never a swordbeast born could cross blades with Rocc Arrem, an' I knows, cos I fought alongside him. We was like brothers.'

Triss heaved more turnips over the sill to her friends below. 'But despite all that, he was slain.'

Drufo paused for a moment, his face grim. 'Brought him down with arrows, more'n a score o' those dirty Riftgard rats. I remembers it t'this day, but Rocc, yore pa, went down fightin', snapped his blade an' hurled it in their faces. Rocc Arrem wasn't never one to surrender, never!'

Triss sighed as she swept the last vegetables up from the floor. 'Wish I'd have been old enough to fight; they'd have never got him. We'd have still been free, living in the mountains upriver, all of us.'

Drufo watched those below gathering the last of the turnips. He looked to the high mountains on either side of the river, thick pinewoods sweeping down their sides to the rocky banks, still patched with last winter's heavy snows.

The old squirrel voiced his thoughts. 'Ah, 'tis a cold hard place to live, this northland, I tell ye, an' a harder place to be enslaved in than any I know.'

Keeping her voice low, the squirrelmaid drew close to Drufo. 'Once we've got the boat built, it'll be downriver and the open seas for us. We'll find a better life in those lands beyond the great sea.'

Drufo grabbed her paw anxiously. 'Triss, don't be foolish, nobeast ever escaped from Riftgard an' lived to tell of it. You've got to ferget those mad ideas!'

Triss pulled her paw from his grasp. Four more days, that's all it'll take, Drufo. I'm not missing a chance of freedom by being fainthearted. Shogg the otter and Welfo the hedgehog have been helping me. Our boat should be ready soon. You can escape with us, there's room for one more!'

Drufo looked at Triss anxiously, keeping his voice low. 'You three don't know the danger yore in, missy. Y'just don't know. Stealin' wood from the King's new walkway, pilin' up vittles, an' tackin' t'gether rags for a sail, 'tis too risky. I want no part of it, no part, d'ye hear me? I ain't goin' t'be responsible for the death o' young creatures!'

Triss cocked an ear to a sound outside on the stairway. She muttered swiftly under her breath, 'Stow it, somebeast's coming!'

The door was wrenched open suddenly. Captain Riftun and four of his rats marched into the chamber. Triss and Drufo fell upon all fours, making a pretence of cleaning the floor. Riftun was a mean-natured rat; cruelty was stamped on his narrow face. He leaned on his spear and placed a footpaw hard on the back of Triss's neck.

'So tell me, wot are slaves doin' alone an' unattended in a roomful o' weapons, eh?'

Drufo kept his tone humble as he explained. 'Princess Kurda gave us permission, Cap'n. We been attendin' her at sword practice. Me'n'Triss is just cleanin' up. We're near done, Cap'n.'

The rat captain glanced around the chamber. 'Looks clean enough t'me, eh, lads?'

The four rat guards nodded their agreement eagerly. 'Aye, Cap'n!'

Riftun lashed out with his spearhaft, knocking Drufo flat.