The otter heard Janglur’s warning. Gritting his teeth, he strained the longbow to its limit, letting the middle rat run straight at him. So strong was Skipper’s shot that the arrow passed clean through the charging rat, who fell forward upon the burning spear. When the door was clear of brush and soaked well with water and all the moles were inside, Skipper jumped back in and slammed the bolts home. Janglur let his bow drop, unwrapping the sling from about his waist.

“They’re close enough for stones now, Rus. Don’t need these longbows.” He had already dropped one rat before Rusvul could load his sling.

“Come on, scum, my name’s Regubaaaaaa!”

Another rat fell to Rusvul’s whirling sling. The rest broke and ran back to the tree cover, all except one who carried on charging forward. Seconds before both the squirrels’ slingstones laid him low he threw his spear. It thudded, blazing, into the wallgate door. “Pail o’ water on a rope, quick!” Rusvul yelled out.

Skipper hurled the rope end up. Rusvul hauled the water pail to the battlements, and then lowered it over the top until it struck the outstretched spear haft, upsetting its contents over it. Rewarded by the hissing sound of extinguished flames, Rusvul winked at Janglur. “No sense takin’ chances, even if the door is soaked.”

Janglur Swifteye retrieved his longbow and loosed off an arrow. It thudded into the far sycamore trunk, quivering. “Aye, yore right there. Let’s turn the tables on ’em an’ keep their ’eads down for the night!”

Foremole gathered pawfuls of the bracken and wood that had been intended to burn the gate. “Noice of ee vurmints to gather kindlin’ for ee kitchen ovens, hurr!”

Gelltor stayed well back in the woodlands, issuing orders to a rat. “Tell Ascrod and Predak to pull back from the north wall and meet me back here. Vannan, this is no time to be dozing. Liven yourself up, we’ve got to plan our next move.”

The vixen grinned maliciously at her brother. “Oh, given up the idea of burning our way in, have we? What’s the matter, didn’t your good idea work?”

*

In the gray hour before dawn, Song came awake. All around her in the packed cave watervoles were snoring and snuffling in the hot stuffy atmosphere. The squirrelmaid shook Dann lightly. Startled awake, he instinctively touched his swordhilt to make sure it was still there. Song gestured for him to make his way outside, then prodded the sleeping Dippler. Rolling over, the Guosim shrew muttered drowsily, “Mmm. Any o’ that stew left, mate?”

Song stifled his mouth with a paw, whispering in his ear, “Wake up, Dipp. We’re going, if the boat’s still there.”

Luckily it was. Dippler grumbled as they carried it to the water’s edge. “Wot’s all the rush for? I liked it in there, that stew was nice.”