Mrs Featherstonehaugh gave Rue’s tree a desperate look. Rue was actually enjoying the spectacle. Prim and Quesnel had out The Spotted Custard ’s grappling hooks and were stealthily drifting about, throwing down and pulling up as many spheres of tea as possible. Since this was going on behind the Vanaras’ backs and they were concentrated on the army before them, none of them had noticed. A few of the cavalry were giving the Custard odd looks, but they were soldiers and knew better than to interrupt a brigadier with questions about custards. The werewolves couldn’t say anything even if they wanted to.

Mrs Featherstonehaugh could not argue further without sounding like a hysterical female unless she revealed herself as an agent of Goldenrod. She needed someone with official authority to stand up to her husband. Rue, even had she been able, was pretty certain she couldn’t reveal her position openly either. Besides, as a young, unmarried and mostly naked lady, she would have been summarily dismissed.

Brigadier Featherstonehaugh said to the Vanaras, “Who among you will speak in your defence?”

His assistant translated his words.

None of the Vanaras moved. They all remained quiet, weapons at the ready, watching their Alpha out of the corners of their eyes.

“Very well, you leave me no choice. I will take back my wife and Her Majesty’s money by force!” The brigadier raised up his sabre. “Company. Prepare to charge.”

The weremonkeys stiffened.

There werewolves all looked to their Alpha.

Rue tensed her muscles ready to leap. Although she wasn’t certain who or what she was going to leap at.

Then, into the silence, a voice said, “Wait!”

Miss Sekhmet walked into the firelight. She’d found a length of Vanara cloth from somewhere, which she’d wrapped regally about her body. Her brown shoulders were bare but for her long thick hair and the silver net, draped like a mantel. In mortal form she was only a little more tan-coloured than as an immortal, and still so painfully beautiful it was almost unreal. Somehow the wrapped cloth, the hair, and the silver net combined to make her look like a goddess of legend, more so than the Vanaras. Rue leapt down and ran to her, coming to stand at her left side. Lady Kingair was a heartbeat behind. The werewolf stood on her right.

The Vanaras, the werewolves, and the cavalry all stared in awe at the vision before them.

Behind the brigadier, in the jungle, Rue’s werecat hearing picked up the crashing of booted feet. The infantry was approaching. Above the forest, the float enforcements moved relentlessly forward. Soon the full might of the British military would be upon them. Miss Sekhmet didn’t have much time.