AUTHOR NOTE: Sincere apologies for the long wait. My computer crashed just over a month ago and we've only just restored internet access. And since the files have to be saved in the computer, the library computers weren't much help. Sorry again to the people who were following this; I hope you can pick it back up all right.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: ROVING

The day dawned cool and clear, and already Riverwyte was on the move. The gray otter breathed deeply, enjoying the crisp air as he trekked through the trees. He'd been at this roving a week now and he was enjoying it immensely. The solitude was what he liked the most; unlike most otters, Riverwyte was fairly laid back and was not prone to overexcitement. It might have been a little too peaceful, but he was not worried. Vermin were common in the dense forests, and there'd definitely be some ruckus once he found one! The otter laughed to himself at the idea.

It was just before noon when he stopped to eat. Noting that the sack he'd brought from Camp Willow was nearly empty, Riverwyte asserted that when he next stopped at a river he'd get some fish. The otter ate a bit of mushroom and watershrimp pastie gratefully and stretched his legs. Life was good.

Without warning, a panicked bellow rent the air which Riverwyte recognized as the sound of a badger's yell. He picked up his staff and ran toward the source of the noise. Coming over a small rise, he peered out from behind a tree.

A young badger stood about fifty feet away, surrounded by seventy-odd ferrets and weasels. The beast was barely five seasons old, but he possessed the strength of most full-grown vermin and was attempting to fight them all off. Riverwyte stared at the badger in wonder; he'd never seen one with a golden headstripe before.

A young ferret about the same age as the badger leapt on it from behind. He tightened his young arms around his adversary's neck with surprising savagery until an older weasel grabbed his tunic and threw him off. "Gurr, get back, young Swartt. Badgers are bigbeast's business only."

A middle-aged ferret with an ample waist strode up and put his speartip against the growling young badger's throat. "H'wodd ya doin', eh? I sed t'keel th' stoopid badger'r 'bout twenny minute ago, did I not? Mebbe I keel 'im meself, 'fore dis upstart Sixclaw do't forya, eh?"

Riverwyte's warrior blood was roused. Before he could take the time to think rationally, he charged down at the spear-wielding ferret, long dagger in paw. "Leave that beast aloooooooooone!" The ferret sprang back in alarm, allowing an old weasel to take the dagger thrust meant for him.

"Keel 'im, ye fools!"

The vermin poured on the otter all at once. Riverwyte then realized his mistake. He'd forgotten that, for the first time, he was not backed up by more otters. Also he'd let his anger drive him to battle an impossible number of enemies. Baring his teeth, he fought with all his strength, employing weapons such as claws and teeth in addition to his dagger. Fifteen vermin died under Riverwyte's desperate ferocity, but it was not enough. The others drew their swords and Riverwyte sank into blackness as the twenty closest vermin introduced him to the keen edges of their blades. The last thing he saw before fading away was the young ferret and a small group of other juvenile vermin beating the badger unconscious and dragging him away on a rope.

Slowly the world came back into focus as Riverwyte opened his eyes. He shifted an arm and his entire body was inundated with pain. The gray otter shut his eyes tightly and gasped for air, mouth slightly open. He lay there for several minutes as the waves of pain ebbed away, then forced himself to sit up. Shallow gashes had been scored all over his body by enemy blades. His vest had been literally cut off him and his kilt was tattered. Riverwyte felt a frantic desire for water, both to drink and to clean his wounds. Obviously the vermin had left him for dead. He fought intense agony and rose to his hindpaws, only to fall over. He repeated this several times before finally getting to an upright position, feeling that somehow his balance was off. Looking behind, Riverwyte realized with horror why – his tail was gone.