* * *

Inside the building, confusion followed the panic of the initial attack. Tsarmina dashed upstairs to her chamber, dashing back down again when a fusillade of arrows greeted her through the open window. Bane sat at the foot of the stairs.

“Fortunes of war,” he said philosophically.

“Oh, burn them out, come down hard on them. I’ve seen it all before,” Tsarmina sneered. “Well, fox, what’s your next move?”

“Is there another way out of here?”

“There’s the scullery and larder entrance on the north side, but it’s only a small door.”

“It’ll have to do. Let’s give it a try.”

At the scullery and larder entrance the door was shut tight with rusted bolts which took some considerable time to move. When it was finally opened, the troops hung about reluctantly. Nobody seemed very keen on dashing out to do battle. Bane prodded a Kotir soldier with his sword.

“Come on. You lot have got shields. Get out there!”

The stoat turned sullenly to Brogg. “He’s not giving me orders. I’ve got six seasons’ service here. Him and his lot only arrived yesterday.”

Tsarmina rushed up the corridor, thrusting creatures aside. “Get out there, you and you,” she ordered. “Form a barrier of shields the way you’ve been trained to do!”

Her word was final; there was no arguing with the Queen of the Thousand Eyes.

Three soldiers pushed their way out into the open, shields held up in front. A slingstone cracked the middle ferret on his paw. He yelped with pain, automatically dropping the shield. Arrows hissed in once more, reducing the ranks by a further three.

* * *

High in a sycamore, Barklad fired off an arrow as he remarked to his companion, “How long d’you think we can keep this up, Pear?”

Pear rubbed beeswax on her bowstring before answering.

“Lady Amber says until noon, then it’ll be too late for them to go invading Mossflower. Personally, I think we should encourage them to come out at noon, then we could follow them back and pick them off in the evening.”

Another squirrel swung in through the branches. “Are you two all right for arrows?” he asked breathlessly. “Here’s another quiver full. Give a call if you’re running low.”

He swung off to the next tree with his supplies.

* * *

Bane tried every possible move, but at each new turn he was frustrated by the deadly accuracy of the woodlanders. Every exit tried, be it window or door, resulted in further loss of troops. The summer morning wore on, the high sun above impervious to the dead that littered the courtyard.

Tsarmina came up with the most sensible suggestion to date. “Why don’t we just shut the doors and ignore them? With nothing to shoot at, they’ll have to leave.”

Bane was glad of the solution. He would have mentioned it earlier, had Tsarmina not been in such a towering rage.

* * *

Skipper was no mean climber. He stood on a low bough with Lady Amber. Together they considered the problem of the doors that were slammed shut and the bolted, wooden tables which had been placed across the open windows.