Tsarmina was furious. She guessed what was happening: the squirrels were taking a stand while the otters slipped off into Mossflower with the fugitives. She issued orders to a ferret Captain named Raker. “Stop here with a platoon and face the squirrels. I’ll take the rest and circle around them, and we’ll cut them off. They won’t realize I’m following, so they’ll slow down a bit when they think they’re in the clear.”

Raker saluted. “As you say, Milady. Here you, Scratch, and you, Thicktail, take your squads and follow the Queen.”

The two weasel Captains saluted with their spears, then detailed their creatures to follow Tsarmina. The wildcat had bounded off alone, taking a wide loop south and back east.

Nothing aggravated Raker more than squirrel resistance fighters; they were like smoke in a breeze, here and gone. He took aim and heaved his spear at their leader, but it was a complete waste of time. Amber stood back drily, twirling her sling, and ducking as she let the spear graze harmlessly past. Directing her troops back across the open ground, she loosed a heavy pebble at tremendous speed. Raker threw his shield up in the nick of time, staggering backward as the stone struck his shield and bounced off. When the ferret lowered his shield it was as if there had never been a squirrel inside Kotir’s grounds.

They were gone into Mossflower.

High in the branches of the trees that fringed the woodland, squirrels shook with silent laughter at the dumbfounded expression on Raker’s face. He shook a mailed paw at the trees. “Come out and fight, you cowards!”

One last thunderous hail of stones, arrows and javelins sent the Kotir soldiery scurrying for cover.

The treetops rustled and swayed. Distant laughter told the enemy that the squirrels were swinging away through the sunlit upper terraces of leafy Mossflower.

Bella of Brockhall’s huge striped face lit up with pleasure. “Well, this is a rare and unexpected pleasure, Abbess Germaine. Come in, all of you, welcome to Brockhall.”

Abbess Germaine led the Brothers and Sisters of Loamhedge into Bella’s ancestral home, down the long twisting passage into the massive cavelike main hall, whose ceiling was the arched roots of the great oak above Brockhall. They made themselves at home around the wide hearth, whilst Bula the otter and Pear the squirrel, who had acted as their guides, explained to Bella what had taken place.

The badger listened carefully, settling back in her old armchair. “I had an idea something like this would happen. That’s why I left Goody Stickle’s and came home here. Nothing ever goes as planned with Gonff. Still, not to worry, that young rip will be as right as rain, you’ll see. First things first. Let’s get you all fed. You must be famished. I was baking a batch of chestnut bread. It’ll be ready soon. I’ll make some celery and fennel stew with hazelnut dumplings and get a cheese up from the storeroom. Now stop looking noble, the pair of you. I know what growing otters and squirrels are like. You can wait here after you’ve eaten until the rest get back. Fetch bowls from the shelf for our guests. That’s it, make yourselves useful.”