"Yes me lord," Scurv answered, saluting. "I made sure he was sent t' th' lowest, darkest dungeon."
Garrath began walking to the door. "You did remove his weapons, didn't you?"
Scurv slapped his black head. "I knew I forgot something!"
The weasel king flipped around. "You blubbering fool! You know th' dungeons down there 'ave loose grating bolts! Any weapon could easily pry them out! Git down there!"
"Hurr, now, what're th' three bolts keepin' me locked in blight?"
Before he could answer his own question, the last four lines of the riddle on the shield caught his eye. He could comprehend the leader controlling fruit and grain, and the death and bane. A very evil leader, living in a paradise. But who were the friends set in the wood? And what in the world is the 'next'?
Suddenly, Javelin heard faint footsteps through the thick dungeon door. He knew that the vermin were coming to judge him. He had to escape now. He remembered his father's verse saying that the shield held the key to escaping from the dungeon. He recitied the second line of the verse in his head.
"The three bolts that keep me locked in blight," he thought. "Th' light through th' grate... three bolts... escape... aha!"
The now fully-strength-regained otter climbed up the foothold-rich stone wall to the grate. Sure enough, there were three bolts, loosely holding the grate to the stone. He grabbed one of his swords and, one by one, pried the three bolts out. The grate then easily came out in his paws. He had opened an escape route.
On the other side of the door, Javelin heard some keys jingling and clinking in the lock on the door. His captors were coming to take him away. He gathered up his equipment and scurried out of the new escape passage.
"Scurv, you brainless toad!" the huge weasel yelled to the rat. "That otter got out through th' loose grate!" He picked up the rusty iron grate on the floor and hurled it at Scurv. "You blubbering fool! This'll teach yer not t' put prisoners in these lower cells!"
The large grate gave the rat nowhere to run.
Clang!
Scurv flipped backward and was caught by a strong ferret. His unconscious body slouched in the ferret's paws, a huge bruise on his forehead. The ferret carried the rat off to the sickbay.
Garrath showed no sympathy. Instead, he pointed at the group of vermin stationed at the doorway. "Git that otter!"
No sooner did he finish a large door, not too far from where he stood, started opening. And no sooner did it open a stoat poked her head out and, upon seeing Javelin, shouted, "There's th' otter! Git 'im!"