The Trophy of Champions. Cameron Stelzer

      For my sister, Lauren,

      the little champion.

      Thank you to Tyson, Rachael, Sarah

      and Jenny for their input into this story. C.S.

      First published by Daydream Press, Brisbane, Australia, 2015

      This electronic version published 2015

      Text and illustrations copyright © Dr Cameron Stelzer 2015

      Illustrations are watercolour and pen on paper

      No part of this book may be reproduced electronically, verbally or in print without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

      National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication Entry

      Creator: Stelzer, Cameron, 1977 – author, illustrator.

      Title: The Trophy of Champions / by Cameron Stelzer

      ISBN: 978-0-9942486-3-3 (eBook)

      Series: Stelzer, Cameron, 1977 – Pie Rats; bk. 4.

      Target audience: For primary school age.

      Subjects: Rats – Juvenile fiction. Pirates – Juvenile fiction.

      Dewey number: A823.4

      Digital distribution by Ebook Alchemy

      Conversion by Winking Billy

      When victory appears unattainable,

      true champions rise to the challenge.

      The Book of Knowledge

      A Dark Descent

      The small, hooded creature moved swiftly through the shadowy undergrowth of the forest. Rust-coloured strips of bark, dry and flaking, lay strewn across his path. To his left and right, the slender trunks of grey gums rose majestically into the air, their uppermost branches swaying rhythmically in the overhead wind. Each falling leaf sparkled like gold in the flickering rays of the dying summer sun.

      With urgency and purpose, he leapt over crumbling logs and bounded through patches of sprawling lantana, his tiny feet barely touching the ground. His cloak caught on prickly burrs and his fur snagged on sharp twigs, but he tore himself free, never slowing his frantic pace.

      Reaching the edge of a small gully, he suddenly halted and threw back his hood. The heavy aroma of eucalyptus oil filled his nostrils. It masked any scents of lurking predators, but the awkward twitch in his tail told him he wasn’t alone.

      Cautiously, he began creeping past blackened stumps and withered shrubs, towards a dry riverbed at the foot of the gully. He knew if he could reach the riverbed unseen, he still had a chance.

      Rivers lead to the sea, he told himself. And the sea is where I’ll find them …

      The sun vanished from sight as he moved deeper into the gully. Fine webs of silk hung motionless between dead branches. Oily red sap oozed from the sides of pale trunks. The entire place sent a shiver down his tail.

      Something’s here, he trembled. I know it …

      In trepidation, he moved forward, barely daring to breathe. He was quiet – but not silent.

      The first blast echoed over his left shoulder, shattering the stillness. He threw himself headfirst into a pile of leaves as a huge shape crashed into a tree above him.

      Rolling clear of the avalanche of falling debris, he heard a second ear-splitting BOOM! The riverbank in front of him exploded, sending pebbles and bark ricocheting in all directions. He ducked to his right to evade a flying stone, somersaulted over a gnarled tree root and took off through the undergrowth.

      With the roar of cannons in his ears, he clawed his way through the dense vegetation lining the riverbank. Dark shapes hurtled overhead, crashing into the furrowed trunks of ironbark trees, sending jagged splinters raining down around him.

      There was no thought of stopping.

      The river turned south-west and the rough slopes of the gully transformed into sandstone cliffs. Avoiding the easy route through the open riverbed, he began scaling a rocky cliff to higher ground. He moved stealthily over the rocks, his agile tail aiding his ascent, his dusty, grey cloak camouflaging his body.

      Reaching the top of the cliff, with no sign of his pursuers, he began his descent past young saplings and spindly paperbarks. Behind him, a dusty amber glow lingered in the western sky. The first evening stars twinkled high overhead. Peering through the gaps in the foliage, he saw the riverbed snaking east to the shoreline.

      I can be there before darkness sets in, he thought. If I hurry.

      With blue eyes fixed on the river mouth, he took a step forward – and stopped. Cocking his head to one side, he squinted into the distance to where a shadowy black shape moved across the waves.

      There was a mighty gust of wind and the swaying branches blocked his vision. When the leaves had stopped quivering, the black shape was gone.

      Puzzled, he pushed his way through the trees to a rocky outcrop, hoping for a clearer view. From the edge of the plateau, he could see the entire eastern ocean spreading out in front of him, empty and still. As he reached down for a small spyglass tucked in his drawstring bag, he felt something brush past his whiskers.

      He had just enough time to glimpse a long, straight shaft whizzing through the air before it disappeared into the undergrowth.

      ‘Arrows!’ he hissed, throwing himself to the ground. They’ve found me … and they’re close.

      Flattening his body against the rock, he scanned the ridge for an escape route. The quickest way down was directly in front of him: a steep, gravelly slope, descending almost all the way to

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