Chapter One

NO-ONE could have guessed, that midsummer morning, that something momentous was about to happen. The day had dawned like any other. In the far distance a plume of smoke rose from a string of carts as they chugged along their iron rails, but the carts presented no danger because the rails didn't come up into the mountains. In the not-so-far distance, a shepherd made his way into the hills with his dog to check on the sheep that roamed beyond the last of the dry stone walls. The shepherd was more of a threat. The shepherd was being watched...

"I can see a landman coming," Moroc whispered. In the valley below, the tiny figure was moving steadily towards them.

"Well spotted," said his father. "Your eyes are quicker than mine. Give the signal."

The sun had been up for some time, but along the Upper Minder the meerlings were still fishing. Moroc had had his turn in the water earlier. Now he lay on the grassy slope above the mountain stream, drying his fur in the sunshine as he kept watch under the supervision of his father, Withram. At home he relied mainly on his sensitive nose and whiskers to tell him what was going on, but out here in the wide open spaces he needed to use his eyes, and the light was dazzling for someone who usually went underground at dawn. He had to peer through the slits between his fingers to shade his eyes. And now he'd spotted what he was watching for. This was the moment he'd been dreading. He wasn't too scared by his first sight of the enemy: the landman was still too far away to be dangerous. But he was worried about his first duty as an adult.

"Give the signal," Withram said again.

"Can't you do it for me?"

"Moroc, there's no point training to be a guard if you can't give the signals. Come on. Let's hear you."

Shily, Moroc rose on his hind legs. Upright, he felt horribly conspicuous. He had never seen landmen close to, of course, but he knew they looked very different from meerlings, with neither fur nor tails. He would recognise a landman immediately if he did see one, and more to the point, a landman would recognise him. He mustn't be conspicuous for a moment longer than necessary...

Matador, 2005

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paperback, 360 pages

26 black and white illustrations

suitable for ages 10 - 100

ISBN 1 904744 68 0

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