Spriggat turned and held up his stave. “Hush now. Samkim, you go to the right. Arula, you take the left. I know they ain’t posted sentries, may’aps they think themselves safe deep in these woods. Yew tew travel curvin’ inward, take a good thirty long paces, then stop, get those staves ready an’ wait on my cricket chirrup. Good luck an’ good ’untin’, young uns!”

“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty—that’s it.” Samkim halted among some junipers and peered in at the firelit camp. The rats lay about, wrapped in their cloaks, but over by the glowing embers he could see Dethbrush. The fox was resting in an upright position, his back against a log. The sword lay close to his paw, glimmering in the light of the dying campfire. There were woodpigeon feathers and bones scattered about. The young squirrel shuddered. How vermin could kill and eat birds—the very idea caused revulsion within him.

“Chrrrk!”

At the sound of Spriggat’s call, Samkim leapt forward, yelling, “Yahaa! Death to the vermin! Redwaaaaalll!”

The cricket close by the fire that had chirruped shot beneath the log and hid. Arula was marching slowly along. Counting had never been her strong point.

“Urr, twenny-foiv, nointy-two, thurty-four. Boo urr! Wozzat?” She went charging in waving her stave. “Boi okey, give ’em vinniger! Redwaaaaallllhooouuurrrrr!”

At the same time, Spriggat dashed in and collided with a rat who had leapt up at the noise.

The pandemonium was total. Set off by a real cricket call that proved to be a false alarm, the ambush went awry. Dethbrush jumped up to see two of his rats being belaboured by a squirrel and a hedgehog. He was only halfway up when a mole with a yew stave chased a screeching rat past him, counting as it went, “Twenny-noin, take that ’ee vermin! Seventy-’leven, oi’ll wack ’ee! Fifty-foiv, sixteen-two . . . wot’s next? Take that ’n’ that ’n’ that!”

The other three rats milled about, bumping into each other.

Thinking they were under invasion from a much larger force, Dethbrush decided to escape with all speed. He hissed under his breath to the three rats: “Quick, over here. Scatter the fire and run that way, through there!”

Grabbing the sword, Dethbrush helped the rats scatter flame and glowing embers all over the clearing with their spears. They took off through the trees, running southwest after the fox.

*   *   *

Blinded by smoke and burning woodpigeon feathers, Arula whacked away at the log where Dethbrush had rested. “Nointy-seven, thurty-eight. Oi’ll teach ’ee a lessing, ho urr!”

Spriggat caught the end of the stave and pulled her away. “It went wrong, we made a mess o’ it! Quickly, afore the woods go up in flame, put out the fires!”