“Oh no,” said Tanitha. She heaved herself up, her tail wagging slowly. “We royal dogs, we only advise and assist. We could do nothing until Anya came home.”
“Thank you, Tanitha,” said Anya, hugging the dog again. She felt suddenly buoyed up, the jangling of her heart steadied, the knot in her stomach lessened. It was still there, but nowhere near as bad. Her fear ebbed, to be replaced by determination.
“Let’s go!”
Anya had only taken a step when she felt herself dragged back by the baldric. Twisting around, she saw Tanitha had fastened her teeth there and was holding her in place, while all around dogs were rushing towards a ramp that led upwards.
“Let me go!” protested Anya. She wriggled hard, but couldn’t dislodge Tanitha’s grip. The dwarves saluted her, and went to join the dogs.
“We wait,” growled Tanitha, words muffled by the baldric in her mouth.
Anya gave up struggling and crossed her arms in fury.
“I’ve done everything so far!” she exclaimed. “And I got back here safe and sound. Stop treating me like a little girl!”
Tanitha let go.
“I’m treating you as a very important and irreplaceable person,” said Tanitha. “Which you are. A castle storming is no place for a young person, or an old dog. It’s too easy to be killed by accident in the first few minutes, when the fighting is fiercest. We wait.”
“Shensible,” said Smoothie approvingly. Even Ardent only looked after the departing dogs once, though he drew closer to Anya as if he needed to be reminded he was supposed to stay with her. Shrub crawled closer too, but as was now usual, said nothing.
They waited in silence, Anya still fuming, though she had to recognize that Tanitha was right. At first, there was no noise from up above, but very soon there came shouts and squeals and barking. Shortly after that, the first messenger dog came racing down the ramp and skidded to a halt in front of Tanitha.
“Duke’s study taken,” panted Shortlegs. “He wasn’t there.”
“Where is he, then?” retorted Tanitha. “Tell Jackanapes to destroy as much as possible but also to find the Duke. He mustn’t escape.”
Shortlegs nodded, twisted around on the spot, and was off again, giving the lie to his name.
“I should go up,” said Anya fretfully.
“Wait,” said Tanitha as another dog messenger came sprinting in. “Ah, here’s Somersault. What news?”
“Kneegnawer’s dead, and half the troop’s out of action!” gasped Somersault. “The Duke was outside Morven’s chamber. He’s taken her up to the top of the south tower!”
“The best plans must change,” said Tanitha. She gave out a huge sigh and then barked strongly, “To the southern stair!”
A tide of dogs surged towards the southernmost of the four arched exits to the cave, taking Anya and everyone else with it.
“Steady! Steady!” barked Tanitha, but even she could not stop the mad dash and the elder dog was soon left behind, even by the puppies who joined the rush, their minders temporarily forgetting their duties.
Anya pushed her way towards the front, sliding between dogs, Ardent nipping those who didn’t move out of the way. Smoothie undulated over the top of them and Shrub slipped between their legs, keeping low to the ground.
It was slightly less crowded on the stair. As they raced up, Anya heard the crash and din of battle, the squeals of weaselfolk, and many different shouts and screams.
A minute later, they burst out onto the battlements of the south wall, beneath the tower. Below them, in the bailey, a great battle was raging, evidence that the gatehouse had already been seized, the drawbridge lowered, and the gate opened. More and more of Anya’s troops were pouring in, but they were fighting a tightly massed array of weasels, assassins, bandits, and trolls.
An assassin below saw Anya and raised his crossbow, but before he could fire, an arrow sprouted in his neck. Across the courtyard, Anya heard Bert cry “He! He!” the traditional shout of an archer who has found their mark, and she saw the robber atop the gatehouse already nocking another arrow.
The dwarves were shoulder to shoulder in a wedge, driving forward towards the trolls, axes flashing. The trolls also surged to meet their ancestral foes, crushing many of their own soldiers in the process.
Finally, Anya looked up to the tower.
Duke Rikard stood in an embrasure there, with Morven balanced precariously atop one of the merlons. The only thing stopping the princess from falling to her death was Rikard’s grip on the braid of her long black hair. Prince Maggers was there too, flapping his arms and circling about the Duke, but not daring to come closer than two or three paces in case the sorcerer let Morven go.
Or pushed her off.
“Surrender!” screamed Rikard, his thin, creepy voice audible even over the tumult of battle. “Surrender or Princess Morven will die!”
Adding dire punctuation to his call, Morven screamed. The loudest, most terrible scream Anya had ever heard, even from her sister.
Anya stared up at her sister and the sorcerer. It was as if everything else had disappeared from her vision; she could only see them, and all the sound and fury of the battle had faded back. All she could hear was Rikard’s voice, echoing again and again through her mind.
“Surrender or Princess Morven will die!”
But she couldn’t surrender, Anya knew. If she did, Rikard would kill or transform everyone. All the friends who had done so much for her. All the former frogs, who had already suffered for so many years. The royal dogs, some of whom were already slain and would be sorely missed in the kennels.
But if she didn’t surrender, Morven would die …