Tsarmina, still holding the ferret with the spear protruding from his lifeless form, said urgently out of the side of her mouth, “Do as the squirrel says.”

They obeyed instantly.

Tsarmina let the ferret fall, twisting the body as she let go of it. Skipper was backing off into the bushes with his crew. He waved up to Amber. “Thankee kindly, marm. D’you mind keepin’ a weather eye clapped on ’em while we push off?”

Suddenly the wildcat plucked the javelin from the fallen soldier and flung it up at Lady Amber.

“Cut and run crew!” Skipper shouted as he bolted off with the rest. Amber had momentarily relaxed the javelin in her paw; she ducked in the nick of time as her weapon came hurtling back at her. Tsarmina did not wait to see if she had scored a hit but took off after Skipper and the crew, yelling, “This way! Cut them off through the bushes!”

Martin and Gonff ran with the otters, Skipper urging them on as they pounded through the undergrowth. “Hurry now, crew. Amber can’t hold ’em off forever—there’s too many of ’em. Hark, they’re back on to us.”

Tsarmina was no fool; she had sensed the direction they would take. Accordingly, she retreated then came back at a tangent to cut down the distance on an angle. Suddenly Martin and Gonff found themselves on the banks of a broad fast-flowing river with steep grassy sides. Skipper stamped his paws and sighed. “Belay, we nearly made it. Too late, here they come!”

Tsarmina and her troops broke through the trees and came hurrying along the bank toward them.

Martin could see there would be no talking this time. He drew his sling, as did the otters around him. They let fly the first volley before their foes had time to notch arrows or raise spears. The hail of stone caught the enemy head-on. Rock clattered on armor as Tsarmina threw herself flat yelling at her soldiers, “Down, get down and return fire!”

Martin saw two otters felled by heavy spears. Now Skipper’s crew was trapped between the open stretch of bank and the river. The otter crew rattled off another salvo of rocks.

This time Tsarmina had anticipated it; she had the front rank take the stones on their shields, while another rank behind hurled their spears over the tops of the shield-bearers. Some of the spears went too far, but one found its mark: an otter standing up with a whirling sling dropped back, killed by a well-aimed throw.

Reinforcements arrived, with Lady Amber bringing squirrel archers through the trees to fire at the Kotir troops from behind.

Skipper saw Tsarmina’s forces turn to face the new foe. He seized his chance. Martin found himself grabbed by the otter leader, while Gonff was clasped by a big otter named Root. “Take a good breath, messmate. We’re goin’ for a swim!”

The entire otter crew took a short bounding run and dived into the river with a loud splash.