Ratflank kicked out at a huddled form wrapped in sacking. A rawboned fox wearing brass earrings leaped up.

“Keep your stupid paws off me, lumphead,” he snarled. “I’m not one of your dimwit soldiers. We only take orders from Bane.”

Ratflank hurried away, narrowly dodging the bared yellow fangs.

Bane and Tsarmina paced restlessly about in the entrance hall. The fox banged his paw against a doorpost.

“What’s keeping them?” he asked impatiently. “It’ll be noon by the time we get going at this rate.”

Tsarmina gritted her teeth, turning, she screeched toward the barracks, “Brogg, Ratflank, get them out here double quick, or I’ll come in there and move you myself!”

The first bunch came tumbling out, adjusting tunics, clattering shields on spears.

“Here’s mine. Where’s your crew, Bane?” Tsarmina smirked.

Moments later, Bane’s mercenaries strolled casually out in the rear of the uniformed soldiers. The fox commander struck his curved sword against a shield until he got order.

“Right, you lot. Same drill as yesterday—skirmish line, comb the woods, keep your eyes peeled and your wits about you. When we find them, remember: no mercy!”

The horde moved out toward the parade ground in the courtyard. As the first half-dozen soldiers passed through the doorway into the open, there was a harsh shout from the woodland fringe.

“Fire!”

A hiss of vicious weaponry cut the air. The six soldiers fell in their tracks, cut down by arrows and javelins.

“Retreat, retreat, get back inside, quick!” Bane ordered hastily.

There was panic as the back ranks coming forward stumbled into the front ranks retreating. More troops fell, transfixed by flying death.

“What’s going on out there?” Tsarmina yelled at Bane.

Bane stood panting with his back to the wall. “They’ve got us bottled up in here. Wait a moment. Badtail!”

The rawboned fox came trotting up. “Here Bane.”

“See what the position is out there. Pinpoint where they are and report back to me.”

Badtail lay flat upon his belly. Sliding around the doorposts, he scrambled out onto the parade ground, tacking and weaving. Halfway across the courtyard, he bobbed up and down, checking the trees and scanning the low bushes through the open main gates.

“What d’you see?” Bane’s voice rang across the open space.

Still lying flat, Badtail raised his head as he shouted back, “Squirrels and otters. They’ve got the main gates open and they’re shooting from the tr—”

An otter javelin closed his mouth forever.

Bane poked his head around the doorpost. An arrow hummed its way viciously into the woodwork. He pulled back swiftly as two more buried their points in the doorpost where his head had been.

* * *

Skipper crouched behind a bush and signaled to Lady Amber, who was perched on the low branches of an oak.

“Eleven down and plenty more to go,” he reported. Amber drew back her bowstring and let an arrow fly.

“Make it the round dozen, Skip!”

Grim-faced and determined, the crews of both leaders tightened paws on bowstrings, slings and javelins, waiting for the next head to show around the doorposts of Kotir fortress.