Scum and Darktooth bowed and hurried to do their tasks. Scurv, on the other hand, questioned his master.
"Lord, are you going to fight the otters? They're the best fighters, apart from badgers!"
"But also apart from me!" Garrath roared, sharpening his knife-claws on a stone. "I am Garrath the Fierce, and I live up to my name. Many a creature have fallen to my blade before they even inflicted a scratch on me!"
That was enough to get Scurv moving. He left, and came back a minute later, dragging Garrath's sword behind him.
Garrath picked up the weapon. It was a battlesword - double sided and sharp to the point. But its size gave it a fierce look. It was as long as Garrath was tall, and was three paw-lengths wide. Its hilt was crafted with silver, and stag beetle horns on it gave it an even more lethal appearance.
"Get ready for our swift and silent victory," Garrath said, eyes still narrowed.
Both sides waited, weapons at the ready, for the battle that was soon to take place. The vermin on the shore watched as the giant vessel, Otterwake, slowly drifted toward them. The otters on the ship glared at the hordes of rats, weasels, stoats, and ferrets.
Then it began.
"Flaming arrows, fire!"
A hail of blazin arrows hissed into the hull of the Otterwake, causing a roaring fire. At the same time, the otters jumped into the water and swam to the shore. Among those was Lance.
Javelin watched his father go into battle, armed with only his sling. He wished he had taken his weapons with him so he might stand a better chance against the massive hordes of vermin.
"Harr, Javelin!" Rudder called to him. "Get over 'ere an' 'elp us with this fire!"
Lance was already on the shore. He called together his three best fighters: Gautma, Pentrik, and Oceana.
"Harr me mateys, this is th' land we found. If we intend on giving this information to our cartographers, we must win this 'ere battle."
Oceana, a powerful female otter, drew her broadsword. "And I intend to win it!"
A small arrow lodged itself into Pentrik's paw. Yanking it out and pulling out his knife at the same time, he ran into the battle on a mad rampage.
"Hurr, meeting's over, I guess," Lance mumbled, loading his sling.
Garrath overheard everything. "So," he said to himself, "they want to map this island, eh? Well, I won't let them do that." He turned, smashing a charging otter with the flat of his huge sword, and headed toward the group which he overheard the information from.
The one with Lance in it.
Lance was the first to see the huge weasel stalking toward him and his warriors. He turned toward Gautma. "Harr, there's a huge weasel comin' this way." He whacked a stoat on the snout with his sling, then batted wim away with his large tail. "Get yerself and Oceana ready."
"Aye cap'n," Gautma acknowledged, spiking a rat with his mace.
Hacking and dodging, parrying and swinging, the experienced otter army battled the seemingly infinitely huge horde of vermin. Javeling watched the battle from the starboard rail. He wished he had taken fighting lessons from his father, so he could help his fellow crew win the impossibly huge battle. It was at that very moment that a few dozen flaming arrows engulfed the Otterwake at the same time. The ship, being built with all wood, instantly began blazing even more with dancing flames.
Rudder was the one who saved Javelin's life. He remembered the cache of lubricating oil in the storage compartments. He hurried to Javelin.
"Harr matey, you've got t' get off this ship! any second now it's going to erupt into a gurt ball o' fire!"
Javelin looked at the other otters, frantically trying to put out the fire. "Hurr, why do you only warn me?"
Rudder started to shove Javelin to the railing. "It's a long, complicated story, matey. The answer's on th' shield. Now save yerself!"
With one final shove from Rudder, Javelin jumped off the ship and into the water. Avoining flaming wood splinters and hissing arrows, he swam as fast as his body would let him.
But it was too late.
The fire had reached the dozen barrels of lubricating oil in the lower cabins. With a deafening boom and a blinding flash of light, the Otterwake exploded in a monstrous cloud of black smoke and uncontrollable flames, sending missiles of wood planks whizzing in all directions at a confusing speed. One long, thick one smashed right into Javelin's stomach, launching the otter into the air and toward the shore.
The last thing Javelin saw before he collided with the sand on the shore was his father battling an enormous weasel with his sling. He turned and looked up at Javelin and shouted, before being run through by the weasel's giant sword, "Remember our promise!"