A sudden scream that was designed to detonate eardrums distracted them all. Ark was shocked. He’d recognize the mouth that formed that horrendous sound anywhere. After all, he’d grown up with it. Normally, it was the harbinger of tantrums, but today it was a siren song of hope.

The scream came to screeching halt. All eyes turned toward its source, hidden behind a pair of double doors in the corner of the courtyard. As the echo died away, the doors burst open and a stinking fusillade erupted from them, aimed straight at the fountain.

“You could scream for Arborium, Shiv. Well done! That’s it, Phlegm! Good aim, Biley!” came a familiar voice as the stream of unadulterated sewage hit the soldier threatening the King, squarely in the face.

“Urrgggh!” he spluttered, losing the grip on his knife and slipping in the muck before slamming onto the wooden boards headfirst. Unfortunately, the splatter effect meant that the King and his last brave defenders were no longer dressed in silk and velvet. Their cotes were now a fetching shade of sprinkled brown.

The King took advantage of the surprise, snatching the soldier’s falling knife and standing none too gently on the would-be assassin’s neck to stop him rearing up again.

Flint’s eyes nearly popped out, his brain trying to formulate a reaction.

“Am I too late?” the welcome voice boomed out.

Ark almost burst out laughing. “Mucum, you’re always late, but very, very welcome. Is Shiv all right?”

“You heard her.”

“We all did!” shouted the Marquis De-Gall.

“Anyhow. Thought you lot might be in the squit. Now you are! The smell ain’t too healthy, but a boy’s gotta do what he’s gotta doo-doo!” Mucum pushed hard and the massive squit cannon trundled into view, manned on either side by Ark’s old colleagues. “I figured the scaffields ‘ad enough fertilizer. These childish thugs could do with a bit o’ growin’ up, if you see what I mean!”

“That be moi boyo!” sang a voice from the parapets. “Oi always know’d yow be the bravest!”

Mucum couldn’t help grinning. As he’d come in, the sight of Joe laid out on the ground had almost stalled him. He’d quickly checked the faces of the other dead Rootshooters splayed around the yard, feeling guilt at the relief when the one he searched for wasn’t there. “Flo! I’m finally gonna kiss your socks off when we’re done!”

“That be so romarrnnntic!” she said with a heaving sigh. “Yow’d better get on now. See yow later, Oi pray!”

“It’s a promise!” This time, he’d keep it.