Night was falling when the small army from Brockhall stood again outside the walls of Kotir. Martin's shoulder was heavily bandaged and he was under strict orders to keep his arm still while the wound healed.

"Oh good, you're here." The vixen, Fortunata, snarled as she inched the door open. She and four soldiers left the safety of the walls of Kotir, facing the assembly of otters. "You brought the soldiers?"

"If you've brought the mice, vixen." Skipper said cooly, arms crossed over his chest. His sling swung from his paw, loaded in case of an ambush.

"They're right behind this door." Fortunata licked her lips nervously.

"Show us and you can have this rabble." The otters who were restraining the ferrets prodded them forward with their spears. "We don't want 'em."

Fortunata dipped back through the door, tail twitching. She seemed to untie something before leading the two mice outside.

Martin's heart stopped. He stared at Rose and the horrible scars that ran down her face – the right distance apart for cat claws. A hiss escaped through his teeth as they stared at each other, her fear as clear on her face as the wounds.

"What have you done to her?" He whispered, his voice as dangerous as the crew of otters around him.

"Don't ask me – just let's swap and get out of here." Fortunata snarled. The vermin and the otters exchanged captives while Martin scowled at the fox. She cringed, looking away and shuffling. The mouse would have continued staring, but Rose was suddenly by his side. The mice looked at each other, sharing a moment of silence before touching paws.

"After you, fox." Skipper said as the newly freed ferrets were taken back into the walls of Kotir. Fortunata hurried after them, not wanting to be left alone with the fearsome otter warriors.

"Off we go, crew." The otters and mice hurried into the woodland, taking a long route back to Brockhall.

"What happened?" Martin asked Rose softly as they climbed over logs and bushes. She shook her head, turning away so he couldn't see the scars.

"I'll tell you another time. I don't want to talk about it. Let's just get back safely and we can start over." They walked in silence for a moment until she realised something. "Hold on – you two were meant to be on your way to Salamandastron!"

Gonff crept up next to her, laughing. Relief at such a swift rescue had already prompted many new rhymes as they walked through the night air. "Nothing would keep me away from my sweet Columbine while she's in danger. And this fat scone scoffer would be lost out in the wildlands without his personal Prince of Pathfinders, don't you know!"

"Scone scoffer yourself! Just ask Dinny – it's this tune twister who was eating all the supplies." Martin retorted, laughing with his friend despite the anger he felt deep within his body.

A second insult. First she broke his father's sword, and now Tsarmina had wounded his Rose.

She would pay dearly for the pain she'd caused.

Again, Rose had been put in danger because of him. Again, she'd been injured under a tyrant's claw.

Subconsciously, Martin held onto Rose's paw and helped guide her through the unfamiliar forest, his mind far behind them.