Basil relented and flung a paw around Cheek. “Righto, point taken, Jess. Here, young otter m’lad, what say you and I stay together in the middle of the raft? We can hang on to each other and get into a fine old blue funk together, eh?”

Jabez Stump trundled aboard the raft. “Ah well, we can’t hang about here all day. There’s a river to cross. You comin’ aboard, Warrior?”

Matthias sheathed his sword and leapt onto the floating logs. “Keep your heads down when we reach the other side. No telling what’s waiting over there,” he warned.

Log-a-Log grasped the forked branch which served as a tiller. “All aboard! Cast off on shore, poles ready riverward, bring her round. Steady as she goes, we’re under way!”

*   *   *

The raft bobbed and swayed out into the current. Blue waters reflecting the skies above rushed and danced to white foamy peaks spraying into the breeze.

The eyes of Stonefleck’s rat army watched eagerly from the far bank as the little craft started its journey towards them.

*   *   *

General Ironbeak landed skilfully on the path in front of the main Abbey door. He tucked his wings away neatly, parading up and down with a swaggering gait.

The door swung open, and Constance and the Abbot stepped outside, followed by John Churchmouse. The Abbot nodded civilly.

“Good afternoon. Do you wish to go inside?”

Ironbeak cocked his head on one side, eyeing them boldly. “Yaggar! What I have to say can be said out here, earthcrawlers. I hold the upper claw today. Maybe if you had killed my fighters and me on the stairs yesterday, instead of playing your silly little games, you would have been the victors. It is too late now; we meet on my terms.”

Mordalfus tucked his paws into the wide habit sleeves. “Then speak. What is it you want of us?”

“Complete surrender, old mouse!”

“I am sorry, but that is impossible,” the Abbot replied.

“Nothing is impossible if you hold dear the lives of your creatures.”

“We have lost Brothers and Sisters before now.”

“Aye, but that would have been without choice,” the General pointed out. “Step forward a bit and look up to the rooftop of this redstone house.”

The three friends walked out onto the path. Shading their eyes, they looked up.

Ironbeak gave a harsh cry and waved one wing.

The three captives were forced to the roof edge, where they could be seen. John Churchmouse groaned aloud. Constance stood close to him and whispered, “Courage, John. We’ll get them back for you. Trust your Abbot, let him do the talking.”

The tiny figures high above swayed in the breeze, skirts billowing out as they kept hold of baby Rollo, who was waving cheerily.