FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The blacksmith woke shortly after dawn and went downstairs to make the fire to get some breakfast cooked. He found his houseguest already awake and getting the fire ready to be lit. He inspected the cheetah’s work and gave a wide smile. Without making any adjustments, he fetched his flint and soon a roaring fire was busy boiling water and frying some vegetables. He apologised for not having any meat, but it was not his normal diet and tended to go bad if he tried to store it. Kyyanno understood and together they ate a filling meal of various fried vegetables and a hot mug of tea. Kyyanno had never had tea before, and found it strangely refreshing and enjoyable. He decided to get more as soon as he could.

“It is my understanding,” the smith said as together they tackled the washing of the dishes used for breakfast. “You are looking to go to Windrush, right?”

“I am indeed,” replied the cheetah, drying a plate and leaving it on the side to collect the next wet plate. “I have no idea how to get there, other than travel north east from Tobbac. I’ve gone east until now, so I guess I have to head due north from here on in.”

“You do know that the village sits close to, or on, I can never remember, part of the river that flows by this village?”

“No,” Kyyanno said with surprise. “I remember father mentioned the River Brock sometimes. Is that the one that goes past here? I think it goes through Riverbridge.”

“Yes,” the smith replied. “That is the one. If you go upstream, to the north, you’ll find the Brock becomes the River Avonflow. Technically the Avonflow becomes the Brock at the point a few smaller tributaries join the river, but we’re going backwards along the chain. Follow the River Avonflow even further and you reach the Ne’erstill Stream. It is alongside this river the forests and village of Windrush is situated.”

“And it’s the village I need to get to,” the cat said with a smile as the pair finished the dishwashing and the mouse put all the clean items away in their proper homes.

“You’re in luck then,” the mouse said. “For every week there is a shipment of post that heads up and down the river, delivering to most of the villages along the river. It is not a large vessel, but there should be room for you aboard. It doesn’t quite go as far as Windrush, but it does go up to Avonwood, which is near the boundary that divides the Ne’erstill Stream from the River Avonflow, and then back again. If all else fails, we can stick you in a really big post and mail you Windrush. Though I doubt the boat would take you, I don’t think they deal in livestock.” He laughed at his own joke. He gestured for Kyyanno to follow as they left the comfort of the house and crossed the yard to the workshop.

The air was cold and on the more unpleasant side of crisp. It was the kind of morning that would steal the breath from a creature’s lungs if it had half a chance. A slight frost was on the ground and small white fingers of frozen water grasped at all the items of half-finished projects and metallic junk that littered the yard. The workshop, however, was the mirror image of outside. Everything had a place, and there was nothing left somewhere where it should not be. The sight of the huge forge and bellows were familiar sights to the cub, as was the anvil and various tongs and metalworking tools.

“You don’t seem too phased to be in here, cub,” the mouse said, grabbing an apron and putting it on. He threw a spare to the cheetah, which just about fit.

“I’ve been in the one in Tobbac plenty of time,” Kyyanno replied. “The blacksmith there, Forge, ended up being one of our best friends, for an adult.”

“I knew Forge,” the smith said. “He was a good blacksmith, and taught me a thing or two. I was sad when the news hit that Tobbac had been hit by Blacktooth’s horde.” The smith produced a small wooden box from under a table and opened it. Inside sat a small amount of gold, which was placed in the grasp of a pair of tongs. The tongs were then handed to the cheetah while the smith started his fire. Using a well-honed technique of adding air and fire, soon the forge was burning brightly and ready for smelting metals.

Kyyanno passed the gold back, and the smith plunged it into the fire until it glowed white-hot. He took the metal from the fire and sat it on his anvil before grabbing a pole and stamping it hard into the gold, leaving an impression in the metal. A second tool then cut away any metal around the pole’s mark, creating a golden disc. The small amount of leftover gold was sent back to the furnace for smelting back into a block. The stamped gold was then cooled in a bucket of water and taken to a machine Kyyanno wasn’t familiar with for finishing. Before long, it was finished and then mounted on to a small knob of a dark red wood. It looked very elegant.

“This,” the smith said, holding it out to Kyyanno for inspection. “This is the official stamp of the king of Sovereign Hill. He hasn’t been there long, and he requested my services because I am one of the few smiths left that will work for anyone. I know Forge was another one willing to work for whomever would pay him. Apparently the king of Sovereign Hill took the place in battle and a lot of the villages are refusing to trade with him. With the threat of Blacktooth hanging over us though, I can’t afford to let the northern politics interfere with business, and the king certainly pays well enough to afford me the metals used to create the village’s defences.”

“That’s all well and good, but why make this mark now?” Kyyanno asked, slightly confused.

“That’s simple young cheetah,” came the reply. “You’re going to deliver it, at least as far as Avonwood anyway. There is no way the postal barge will refuse to carry a delivery for the king. They know he controls the shipping lanes, and will kill off their business faster than you can blink.”

“So, when’s the next boat?”

"Tomorrow, early in the morning," was the reply. He mouse grinned as he led the cheetah back to his home. Kyyanno did not relish the thought of having to brave the cold again, but the trip across the yard was a short one, and a welcoming fire was roaring in the smith's home. Together they walked past the mess of metal and debris and back through the back door of the house. The mouse sat Kyyanno down by the fire while he scrounged up a piece of paper and something to write with. After a few minutes of scribbling, he folded up the paper, dropped it in an envelope, which was then wax sealed using the newly made stamp. Pleased with his handiwork, he handed the envelope to the cub.

"What's this?" Kyyanno asked, looking it over. The letter was addressed to the Keeper of the barge.

"This is your ticket to ride," laughed the mouse. "I have written that the king has requested this stamp to be delivered by hand without delay. It has been sealed with the king's mark, so there will be no doubt concerning its authenticity. This will see you through until you get to Avonwood." With a chuckle of satisfaction with his deviousness, the blacksmith filled his kettle and hung it over the fire. "I think another cup of tea is in order, don't you?"

"I couldn't agree more," replied the cheetah, keen to have more of the delicious drink.

***

With the rest of the day free, Kyyanno was given the chance to explore the down. He was reluctant to leave the smith, but he knew the smith would be busy, and he had to alert the mayor about the fox StarSeer had warned him about.

"Just before I go," the cheetah said, "I had a dream last night that informed me about a potential threat in your wood stores. I'll tell the mayor about it, but I assume you have no problems with him paying a visit?"

"A threat in my stores?" the mouse asked, with a concerned expression on his face. "Are you sure? I would like to investigate this myself."

"I'm sure of it, but please wait for the mayor," the cheetah pleaded. "I don't want you to find something, try to deal with it, and give anyone even more reason to declare war against this village. You've done so much for me and I really don't want to repay you by causing you to come to harm."

"Well, if you insist, cub. I'm busy anyway so I can wait for the mayor. Now, you'd best go get him, eh?"

"Thank you," the cub replied and slipped out of the door.

The cold was still hanging in the air without showing any sign of abating as the cheetah cub took his time to navigate the way to the Town Hall. He did not want to slip on the frosty ground and injure himself before catching his boat. It did not take him long to reach the Town Hall, and he soon had an audience with the mayor.

"What is the problem, young traveller?" the mayor asked, bemused to see the look of worry on the young cheetah's face.

"I have reason to believe that as part of Lord Blacktooth's attack on this village he has hidden the fox cub we mentioned yesterday in the wood store of your blacksmith," was the reply. There was a look of honest fear on his face, which made the mayor take notice. While the village had been searched with nothing discovered, the sheds of the blacksmith were not somewhere they had considered searching.

"Hmm," the mayor thought for a moment. "We had better take a look then. I'll assemble some of the squad." Before too long, the mayor had amassed a small army of well-armed mice, voles, and other small animals. They looked like quite the formidable fighting force. Together they all marched to the blacksmith's workshop, and after the smith had gotten over the shock of having half of the village's military turning up on his doorstep he let them in to his wood stores.

"Well, what's this?" one of the fighters asked, after a little hunt. In his paws he held a dead fox cub that was slowly rotting away. "I wonder how this got here?"

"It's not one I recognise," Kyyanno said. "Either that was put here before I was captured, or another team is stalking this village."

"Best search the area for rats then," the mayor said. "I don't want to find we're being watched from afar as we deal with this furry little problem we have on our hands."

"At once, mayor," said the troops, who dragged the fox into the workshop and then left to scout for vermin.

"While they deal with that, how do you suppose we deal with this?" the mayor asked the smith, poking the dead fox with his foot. It was not a pretty sight, and the smell it was giving off was making the young cheetah want to wretch. The blacksmith looked at the remains of the fox and thought for a moment.

"If it weren't for the smell," he said after a few moments, "I would burn it in my forge. It gets hot enough to melt metal, so a few bones and a bit of shaggy fur should be no problem for it. It would stink though. We'd have the entire village complaining about it."

"We'll have to bury it then," the mayor sighed. "It's a shame those dogs left for Riverbridge yesterday. I imagine they would have been quite good at digging. Still, never mind. I'll just have to get our undertaker on the case. Let's see what he can do, eh?"

The mayor left for the village undertaker, leaving Kyyanno and the smith in charge of looking after the corpse. To save any hassle, they put it back in the store and locked the door afterwards. The pair took the chance to retire to the house for a spot of tea before the smith went back to his work while they waited for the undertaker to do his business. This left the cheetah at a loose end again, so he decided to explore the village.

The exploration did not take long. Pentreafon was a disappointingly small village for the young cheetah. A few local stores, the Town Hall, the library in which people could read the village records, and then there was the training hall. A smile crept over Kyyanno’s face as the cogs in his head started turning. While it was doubtful he would be allowed to train alongside the warriors of the village, there must surely be something in there to allow him to let off some steam. He needed to bounce around and expel some energy. To his delight, a youngish mouse by the name of Jericho was only too happy to allow the cheetah a chance to train; on the condition they used the safe, training weapons and not the real things.

This was Kyyanno’s first taste of combat since his last fight with Haraka, and he knew he would be rusty. What he did not realise was the skill of his opponent. The cheetah had barely a chance to blink before the training sword his opponent wielded had struck him. The training sai blades in his own paws spun a few times as Kyyanno got used to the weight of them, and then he thought he was ready. A sudden impact told him he had been wrong.

“Come on,” Jericho joked. There was a friendly note of encouragement to the taunt. “You’re bigger than I am.”

“You’re older than I am,” replied the cheetah in a mock-petulant voice, returning the ribbing in kind. “Stop being such a bully.”

“You won’t beat me,” the mouse said, scoring another deft, but gentle, hit on the cheetah’s arm. “I’m almost ready to become a warden in the watchtowers. The village’s arbalest and swordsman specialist, people call me. You’d do well to defeat me in combat.”

“Sounds like a challenge to me,” the pair of sai blades spun towards the mouse as Kyyanno threw them like knives. The first one missed by a good few inches, but the second one caught the mouse on the hand he held his sword in and he dropped it in surprise. Seizing his chance, the cat sprang the mouse, barrelling him to the floor and collecting his own weapon as they fell. As they landed, Kyyanno landed on top of the mouse and pressed the blade of the training knife into his opponent’s throat.

“Not bad,” Jericho said with a smile. “Using your size and weight to your advantage at last. Still, this is no problem if you’re me.” As he spoke, he twisted his body, wrapping his legs around the cheetah and turning the tables. Before Kyyanno knew what was going on, he was laid on his front with Jericho on his back and the blade edge of the training sword pressing in to his throat. If it were a real blade, one swift slide of the blade or neck would cut the cat open like he were a joint at the butchers. The mouse had won.

“Okay,” said Kyyanno as Jericho helped him to his feet. “I’m glad we weren’t using real weapons. You have got to teach me how to do that.”

“Many moons of training, young feline,” came a new voice from behind them two youngsters. Both creatures turned to face an old mouse that had entered. Instantly Jericho bowed to his master, with Kyyanno watching and trying to imitate the complex hand motion that accompanied the bow as best he could. The master smiled at the attempt.

“You honour me,” he said in a slow voice, which seemed to carry the wisdom of the ages on it. “You do not know I am, yet show me your respect. Stand easy young feline. There is no need to bow to me, for you are not a pupil of my training hall.”

“My apologies, master,” Jericho said, looking a little worried. He did not know if sparring against visitors was against the master’s rules or not.

“There are no need for apologies, young one,” the master replied with a kind smile. “You have played host to our visitor, and used your training well and without dishonour. You are a credit to these training grounds.”

“Thank you master,” the mouse said, cheering up in an instant.

“So, young feline,” the master continued, “you wish to learn to use sai blades, I see? Do you not think you are too young to pursue such a path?”

“I’m just over two seasons old. I have seen the moon rise and fall at least six times. If I don’t start to shape my destiny now, I might leave it forever.”

“Well said,” a wide smile crept over the master’s face. “I have great respect for those who know the path they seek. With an attitude like that, I can see you going on to be a great many things. Even king, if you so decided.”

“My immediate path is to journey to Windrush via the postal barge tomorrow, though,” Kyyanno muttered. “I’ve heard they have quite a hierarchy there.”

“Hah,” snorted the aged mouse as he stifled a laugh. “Give it five seasons, you’ll be ruling them. You mark my words. A bright cub like you, why they’d be mad if they don’t elect you to lead them.”

“If you say so, sir.”

“Now,” the master turned his attention to his student. “Why don’t you two pair off again and continue sparring. I want to see you’ve learned, young Jericho. See what you can do against this feline invader.” The mouse then turned to Kyyanno. “I want you to think of the most evil creature you’ve ever met. Someone who fills you full of rage every time you think of him. Now, project that rage on to Jericho and show me what you would like to do with him. Don’t worry about hurting him, the training weapons will do no more than bruise.”

Kyyanno thought for a moment. He wanted to think of Lord Blacktooth, but as he had never seen him, he could not feel anger over an idea. The slave-trading weasel, however, was a more tangible foe and was one the cheetah had nearly killed in cold blood. He deserved it too, the disgusting creature. It was easy to become enraged while thinking about the slaver, and without warning Kyyanno went on the attack. Jericho was only just able to grab his training sword and defend himself against a barrage of attacks that hailed down on him from the cheetah’s paws. Left sai swung in from the side, right one followed in the form of an uppercut only to be replaced by the left one again. The attacks fell like rain, and Jericho was finding it hard to defend, and harder to spot an opening for a counter attack. It was only when his opponent tired the mouse gained an opening and managed to cease the raging cheetah.

“Cease,” said the master when it was obvious Kyyanno was slowing. “I don’t know what happened to you to give you such a brutal streak, young feline, but you have a past you need to sort out. I suspect you are yet to grieve for the losses you have suffered. If I were you, I would find a quiet spot and let things catch up.”

“I can’t, not yet anyway.”

“Well, in that case, we need to help you to channel some of that energy. I think a few hours of relaxed meditation should help.”

“A few hours?” Kyyanno could not believe his ears. This was going to take a lot longer than he had anticipated.

The time passed soon enough, however, and after a quick snack to replenish their vitals, the master dragged both Jericho and Kyyanno back into the training room to try again. This time, instead of blind rage, the cheetah focused on what he was doing, watching his opponent and waiting for the opening to present itself. He still was not entirely sure what he was looking for but he guessed he was meant to wait until he was sure he could land a hit before acting. At one point he thought he saw a spot he could get past Jericho's guard, and went for it. The opening was closed quicker than he could get to it, but that opened up a different spot to attack. This was also shut off, which presented yet another chance on a different body part. Eventually, the cheetah's opponent decided he had defended enough and started to come on the attack. This was not part of the cheetah's plan, and he found himself moving one of his blades to meet Jericho's sword, and using the other to try and strike at the wide-open target in front of him. The mouse was fast, however, and landing a blow proved to be too difficult. After a few minutes of fighting, the master again called cease. He smiled and gave Kyyanno a simple bow, which the cub returned.

"You have done well," the old mouse said with a warm tone to his voice. "You have used your cunning, guile, wit, and skill to attack instead of your hatred for your enemy. From your short time here, you have learned much. When you are older, you will find all the speed you need to reach those whom you battle, and you will have the strength to defeat them. As of yet, however, you are still far too young for that sort of training. This is the period you should be training your mind, while it is still supple and easy to bend into shape. You need to keep your eyes on your opponent, learning to read him and being able to see what he plans to do next so you can position yourself to get the best outcome. Go now, I imagine your host will be soon preparing a meal and you should probably go to it."

"I will," Kyyanno panted, tired but happy. "Thank you for everything you have taught me, and for the chance to spar against one of your students."

"Think nothing of it," the master replied. "I am more than sure that, when the time comes, you will end up paying us all back with kindness. Even if you do not know it."

A little confused by the cryptic words, Kyyanno left the training hall and headed back to the blacksmith. He was a little surprised to find the workshop was a hive of activity. Quite a few of the villagers had turned out, and there was a lot of nervous chatter in the air. The mayor was at the head of the crowd, trying in vain to gain control of the situation.

"It was just a fox cub," he was shouting. His voice, though loud, was not reaching the back of the crowd. Those at the front of the pack of animals had too many of their own questions to silence those at the back.

"Are our homes in danger?"

"Are our lives in danger?"

"When will we be attacked?"

"Hasn't our defence team gone on watch yet?"

Eventually, the blacksmith lost patience. He went back in to his workshop and found a sheet of thin metal that sounded like thunder when he shook it, and a wooden mallet to hit it with. He came outside, stood behind the mayor and banged on the sheet until the noise of the group died down. The mayor, who did not expect the sudden noise, shrieked with fright as turned on the smith as if he had just been given a heart attack. The mouse apologised and the mayor addressed the crowd.

"As you are aware," he bellowed as loud as he could so everyone could hear what he was saying. "Yesterday we played host to those who warned us of the imminent attack on our village. Since then we have scouted for traces of the enemy, finding none other than one dead fox cub, which we believe to be part of the enemy's plot. The watchtowers guard our borders on the south, and our borders to the north and east are patrolled at frequent and irregular intervals. So far, there has been no sign of attack and the discovery of this fox cub changes nothing."

"What's happened to the cub?"

"Please, madam," the mayor replied. "Shouting will get us nowhere. The village undertakers have dealt with the fox. They have seen to it to make sure the body is disposed of in a respectful manner. It may be a fox, but it was still a cub and therefore not an enemy. This does mean, however, that if any rats come here and attempt to claim we have captured anyone's cubs we are at no liberty to say that we have done such a thing. We have captured no one, and there are no longer any traces that the fox was even here."

“This does not make us safe,” an old vole called. A few folks agreed with him.

“It also does not mean we are directly at risk,” the mayor countered. “We are doing everything in our power to protect you, but that doesn’t mean that you should just sit back and await the rat horde. You can keep your eyes and ears open for anything that is unusual, and then report it to one of the village defenders. They will decide on the best course of action to take.”

By the time the mayor had finished, Kyyanno had made it to the front of the crowd.

“May I address them?” he asked. The mayor nodded and invited the cub to stand next to him.

“Villagers of Pentreafon,” he shouted, in the most grown up voice he could muster. “I have once been a victim to these attacks. It was by pure luck that I lived at the edge of the village and was able to gain a swift evacuation. When these attacks happen, they are not the type of battle that casually walks up to you and asks your permission to fight. They are brutal, savage, and fast. Their numbers are vast, and their combined might has overwhelmed many villages before this one. Even with the defences this village has, if you want more peace of mind you have to do something yourself instead of relying on others to protect you. Go home, fortify your buildings, and strengthen your doors. Block up any low windows; cover drains in lard to make them harder to climb. Do anything you think will help keep yourself, your family, and your home safe while you still have the time.”

“You are asking us to live in fear,” an old female mouse shouted. Kyyanno shook his head.

“No, I’m telling you to be prepared. As the assistant to the mayor of Tobbac would say, failing to prepare is preparing to fail. Or something like that.”

“Why is this cub telling us what to do?” another voice shouted, with even more shouts of agreement echoing it.

“Because he has done more in two seasons than most of you will ever do in your detached, irrelevant entire lives,” a new voice from the back bellowed. Everyone turned their heads to see an angry, but still quite young looking vole staring back at them all. His brown leather tunic and dark coloured trousers flapped a little in a small breeze, causing him to look every inch the stern little fighter he was. He walked towards the mayor and cheetah, the crowd making a path for him as he cut the group apart. After a few wide and confident strides, he was shaking the paws of the mayor and Kyyanno.

“Blacknose, welcome,” the mayor said as he greeted the vole up to the small podium from which they were addressing the crowd. “You bring good news I hope?” The vole spoke loud and clear, making sure everyone at the gather said what he had to say.

“Agents for Lord WoodClaw have sighted enemy movement leaving Tobbac village direction, heading this way,” he announced. The gathered animals gasped in horror as the vole continued. “They are due to arrive here in around two days' time. Our sources say their numbers are approximately two score of rats and a handful of assorted others, though they might be captives or slaves. Blacktooth is not with them, though.”

The crowd seemed to be pleased with this news. The village had more fighters than enough to defend against only forty rats. If they came via the south, the guards at the watchtowers would not only be able to send an early warning, but their ranged attacks and skilled fighters would form the first wave of defence, and if they failed, the fighters in the village would easily mop up the rest. It would be an easy victory for the people of Pentreafon, and hopefully a powerful message that this village would not be a target as easy as the other villages.

Satisfied that all would be well, the villagers backed off and returned to their homes. Some went to fortify their lodgings, while others felt the village security was tough enough to brave the forthcoming storm, and so instead headed for the local tavern for a spot of ale and a good night. Kyyanno and the blacksmith returned to the smith's home, where a nice cup of tea was the order of the day. After tea came the evening meal. It was over the dinner table that the smith told Kyyanno his schedule for the morning.

"Put simply," he said to the cheetah. "The barge should come down from the north very early in the morning. It would have gone further south but it is no longer safe for it to do so. The village of Riverbridge has sent all its mail up to here by road since we are close neighbours. So instead of heading to Riverbridge and beyond, the barge will be going back up north again. You will join it, with the Royal Stamp. The letter I have for you is your ticket aboard, so don't lose it."

"Got it," Kyyanno replied. "Then it's plain sailing to Avonwood before journeying the last section on foot to get to Windrush. Easy."

"You might think it's easy," the smith said, taking a stern tone. "The road to Windrush might be plagued by bandits. If the stamp were to fall into the wrong hands, it could spell disaster for the king. Instead, you will give it to the tribespeople of the village of Windrush; they will know what to do with it."

"Okay, and once I'm there, I can finally relax a bit."

"Ha," the mouse laughed. "You'll find out what tribe life is like. Legend has it, it's quite hard work."

"Bother," sighed the cat as the two continued with their meal.

***

When the sun was mostly set, the mouse sent the cheetah to bed. They would have to wake up very early in the morning to catch the barge, and neither creature wanted to miss it. To Kyyanno it was the way of completing his quest and giving the blacksmith his floor back. To the blacksmith, it was a shame a promising little cat had to leave, but he knew the cat could not stay in the forest. Once a proper taste of meat had set back in, the villagers may not be safe.

The night passed by uneventfully, and before dawn appeared the blacksmith came downstairs and woke the sleeping feline. Kyyanno woke with a start, a big excited smile plastered on his face.

"Is it time?" the cat asked.

"For breakfast, yes," the mouse laughed. While Kyyanno set the fire up and put some water in the kettle, the mouse prepared the vegetables and things for the first meal of the day. Once they had finished and cleaned up, the smith made sure everything was ready and in place before grabbing his jacket.

"It is time, grab your stuff. Let's go."

The walk up the village to the pontoon where the barge would berth was a brisk one as the darkness of the night hid a very cold morning air. The pair walked almost in silence, with the blacksmith only talking to give directions. They got to the dock to find the barge having the village's post being loaded on to it under the light of many large torches burning brightly. Otters were shouting various instructions and loading post carefully on to a large wooden vehicle, the type of which Kyyanno had never seen. It was long and thin, with high sides and a simple canvas roof covering at least half of it to keep any rain off. The mouse bounded down to the side of the barge and bellowed as loud as he could.

"KEEPER!"

"Ahoy there," called a voice from inside the barge. "Who calls?"

"Smith Apodemus from the Pentreafon troupe," the mouse called back. "I have a very special delivery which requires your personal attention."

A large otter bounced out from the barge. He wore a bright red bandanna on his head and loose dark green trousers. His huge tail hung behind him, strong and powerful looking. Around his chest he wore a leather harness that seemed to attach to something, though Kyyanno could not figure out what.

"Smith Apodemus? Long time no see," the otter grabbed the mouse by the paw and shook it vigorously. "How's the lady friend doing, are you still with her? I heard that she was getting a little, to be gentle, she was getting a little long in the tooth."

"She's fine, thank you, out of town at the moment which is probably for the better," the mouse replied, breaking the handshake and reaching in his pocket for the envelope. "Now, my dear friend, I won't keep you. I'd like you to meet this fine fellow of a cheetah here. His name is Kyyanno and he might have just saved our village."

"Hullo," the otter called to Kyyanno. He walked up to the cub and shook his paw as firmly as he had greeted the mouse. "A cheetah, eh? Don't get many o' them around these parts. We see 'em more up north, but you get all sorts up north. Not like us here down the south, where folks are sensible sized and woodland-like. Nice blades you have there, I hope you know how to use them."

"H, hi," the cheetah stammered, trying to nod to show he did know how to use his sai blades. The handshake was a full body shake for the poor cub and his teeth rattled around inside his skull. The otter was indeed a very friendly otter.

"Anyway," the blacksmith said, looking for a chance to get a word in. "I have a very important bit of post for The King, if you catch my drift. It is his desire that this cheetah deliver it in person. This note should explain everything." The mouse gave the otter the letter, and with care Keeper popped open the seal. A few moments later he nodded and folded all the paper tightly and stuffed it inside his trouser pocket.

"Got'cha," the otter said. "Mum's the word. I can tell the crew he is being moved on official business and they need know no more. I'm sure the little tyke can't weigh much anyway."

"Why would my weight matter," Kyyanno asked. The otter looked him over a few times before smiling a wide smile that seemed to make his eyes twinkle in the torchlight.

"Smart 'un you've got here," he laughed to the blacksmith. "Your weight is important because the barge doesn't go upstream by itself. Nothing floats up a river, only down it. So it's up to me, and the other otters, to pull it up the river. These harnesses attach to mounting brackets, the spares and replacements are supplied by the very mouse standing next to you, and we all pulls the barge to the next village. The fatter you are, the harder we have to work."

"I'm not fat though," the cheetah said, with an indignant tone on his voice.

"Exactly," the otter laughed to show that he was not trying to offend the young cub. "So you're not going to make much of a difference to us now, are ye? Jump aboard, me lad, the journey to Avonwood should take about three and a half days, though some of that will be at villages to load and unload, oh, and a good few rest stops along the way too. This swimming and pulling a barge lark is a tiring one. Only the strongest otters are chosen for the ranks of the postal service, ya know."

“I had no idea,” Kyyanno replied, clambering aboard the vessel. He found it a little unsteady, as it moved on the top of the water, but it seemed safe enough. There were no seats, but this did not surprise the cub. It was a barge built for cargo, not passengers, so a lack of somewhere to sit was only to be expected. A few other otters busied themselves around him, each one wishing him a good morning, and hoping that he would find the trip a pleasant one. A couple of otters offered him a bit to eat, but he politely refused, having had breakfast before he joined them. After a few minutes, the otters were ready. They dived in to the water and hitched themselves up to the craft.

“Goodbye young cheetah,” Smith Apodemus called from the mooring as the barge creaked out of the dock. “Hope to see you again soon one day.”

“Goodbye, my friend,“ Kyyanno called back, waving a fond farewell. “Give my thanks to everybody, it’s been great staying with you.”

The pair watched each other become specks in as much of the distance as the darkness allowed before Kyyanno retired to the shelter of under the canvas. He was off; the journey to Avonwood had begun.