Martin turned to his army.

“Let us go and settle the score with Kotir!”

* * *

Brogg cursed in the half-light before dawn as he tripped upon a coil of rope lying in the main hallway. The place was a jumble of snaring equipment. The weasel Captain rubbed a bruised paw and wished he had not been so enthusiastic on the previous day. Picking up the rope, he hurled it at Chinwart, as the rat was settling down for a quick nap in the corner.

“Come on, dozychops. On your paws. I thought you were supposed to be helping me sort this mess out?”

“What about the others?” the rat yawned. “Why aren’t they all awake and helping?”

Brogg paused, letting go of the net he was dragging to the doorway. “Good idea. Why should I have to do it all myself? Chinwart, go and kick them out of their billets, say that anyone who isn’t ready to parade smartly will be reported to the Queen.”

The threat worked. A few moments later the hall was filled with sleepy soldiers; but seeing Tsarmina was not about they offered no help. They lounged about, sitting on the stairs.

Brogg remembered Tsarmina’s advice.

“Attention,” he called. “First one out on the parade ground carrying a trap gets double supper this evening. Anybody who lies about will be sentenced to half bread and water.”

Chinwart grabbed three stakes and scuttled outside. The rest began half-heartedly picking up nets.

Chinwart came hurtling back inside.

“Cap’n, they’re out there!” he said wildly.

“What are you yammering on about now, rat? Who’s out there?”

“Woodlanders! Go and see for yourself!”

Recalling the last woodlander raid, Brogg acted with caution. He poked his head around the doorway nervously, ready to pull back swiftly in case of arrows.

The main gates had been flung agape. Standing in the open with the dawn mist evaporating in the sun around them were a number of creatures: a badger, a mouse in armor, and that brawny otter. Brogg did not linger to see if there were others.

“Chinwart, go and rouse the Queen, quickly!” he ordered.

Tsarmina came bounding down wide awake, she peered round the doorway with Brogg.

“So, at last they’re showing themselves. Maybe we might not need the snares, Brogg. Perhaps they’ve walked straight into a trap.”

“But, Milady, they’re carrying a white flag. Doesn’t that make them peaceable?” Brogg protested.

“Don’t believe all you see, Brogg. You’re carrying a sword, but that doesn’t make you a soldier. Let’s hear what they have to say.”

As she stepped boldly out into the open, Tsarmina whispered out the side of her mouth at Brogg, “Get the archers. Wait for my signal.”

None of the deputation was armed, except the mouse who carried a sword at his side. Tsarmina recognized him immediately, also the cheeky mousethief standing behind him. She curled her lip in scorn.

“Escaped prisoners and woodland rebels, what do you want?”

“We are the leaders of the Corim come to deliver an ultimatum.” The warrior mouse’s voice was hard and clear.