Part 20 (1/2)

”It's searats, lads. Climbin' up the ropes to get in here!”

Bagg glanced over to the west wall, where the battle was concentrated. ”Huh, no good a-shoutin' f'r that lot, they got enough t' do. 'Sides, Ma Mellus'd tan our hides an' make us go back t' bed an' not give us no breakfast tomorrow an' keep us in our room all day an-”

Grubb placed a grimy paw over Bagg's mouth. ”Oh, tell oi no more 'orrible stories, otter. Usn's cut 'ee ropes wi' our gurt knoifs. Hoa hoa! 'Ee rats'll fall b.u.mp on 222.

they bottems when 'ee ropes do be cutted. Oi'll start in 'ee middle, you two come frum both ends, hurr hurr!”

Kybo was nearly at the top of the wall. Holding his sword between his teeth, he looked back at the others swarming up the ropes, their eyes glinting triumphantly through the darkness as they hauled themselves upward, claw over claw. It was a great distance from the walltop to the woodland floor, and Kybo was not too fond of heights. He partially closed his eyes and tried not to look down, staring at the wallface in front as he pulled himself ever higher. The searat's claw was about to stretch up and grab the battlement at the walltop, when there was an ominous chuckle, a sawing noise and a discordant tw.a.n.g as the rope parted company with the metal grapnel it had been lashed to.

”Oh noooooooooo!”

Kybo sailed outward from the walltop and dropped like a stone.

Several searats looked up in amazement, their eyes following Kybo as he plunged to the dark floor far below. In a very short time ropes were popping and cracking as they were sliced through by the Redwall Friar's keen vegetable knives. The thud of bodies and the terrified screams of searats filled the night air. One rat plunged earthward without a sound, staring in puzzlement at the loose rope still firmly clenched in his claws.

Bagg, Runn and Grubb were truly having fun. It took only three slices to cut through the toughest rope, stretched taut as they were.

”A wunn, a two, an' a three, an' away 'ee do go, vermint!” Grubb chanted happily.

And away the ”vermint” did go, with a loud wail of despair!

Meanwhile, at the Abbey front Graypatch had drastically changed his opinion of the creatures he once called 223.

b.u.mpkins; the accuracy of their stone-slinging had driven him and his searats off the flatlands and down into the ditch. Shaking with frustration, he ducked smartly as another salvo of rocks and homemade spears rattled overhead. The fire at the gates had been smothered under heaps of rubble. Bigfang was still lying senseless on the path; Frink, Fishgill and some others had their claws fully occupied trying to catch the little oarslaves, some of whom had crossed the ditch and were dodging about on the flatlands. Dripnose scrambled along the ditch bed to Gray patch. He was nursing a fractured limb, keeping his head well down as missiles rained in from above.

”Aagh! These creatures fight like mad things, Cap'n!”

”What did you expect them to do, weevilbrain- throw flowers at us?”

”Maybe not, but we're out of spears an' arrows. The crew are havin' to make do with throwin' back the stuff that's been flung at us. Huh, they don't seem t' be short of arms atop o' that wall.”

Graypatch spat contemptuously. ”Homemade rubbis.h.!.+ There's not a proper sword or cutla.s.s between the lot of 'em. Just wait till Kybo an' his buckos come over their precious wall -we'll soon sort out the warriors from the wetnoses!”

Deadglim was nearby. He shook his head doubtfully.

”Well, where is Kybo an' the rest? They've been around there long enough to build a blasted wall, never mind climb one!”

A second later he regretted the outburst as Graypatch turned to him. ”Avast there, smartmouth. Get yourself round to the back of the east wall an' see what's keepin' 'em. Look lively now. Dripnose, get Lardgutt an' see if you can drag that oaf Bigfang back down the ditch here. He's neither use nor ornament lyin' spark out on that path.”

Mother Mellus seized a full basket of rubble and heaved 224.

it toward the ditch with a mighty effort. The screams and curses from below confirmed her accuracy. She winked at a group of enthusiastic slingthrowers. ”That's the stuff to give 'em. Keep it up -we've got them pinned down tight. How are you doing, Saxtus?”

The young mouse dodged a flying rock and slung one smartly back. ”Fine, marm, just fine. Though it's all a bit puzzling; I've noticed that we only seem to be fighting about thirty or so searats, and they had nearly a hundred by Flagg's count. Where's the rest of 'em?”

The badger weighed a large chunk of rock in both paws as she pondered the question. ”I don't know, really. I wasn't counting. Maybe we'd better check around the walls to see they're not laying some sort of trap. You take the south wall and I'll cover the eas- Oh, thundering fur! The east wall, look, there's Dibbuns over there!”

The three small comrades in arms were looking for more ropes to cut when Mellus, Saxtus and Flagg descended upon them.

”You naughty little rascals! What are you doing out of your beds, eh?”

”Burr, us'n's oanly a-cutt -”

”Give me those knives this instant! You could have cut the paws off yourselves, playing around with them. Oh, you scallywags!”

”But we was on'y savin' the Abbey!”

”Not another word, do you hear me! Wait until Friar Alder sees his best vegetable chopping knives. I wouldn't like to be in your fur!”

Flagg picked up a three-p.r.o.nged grappling hook. ”Hold on there, marm. Look at this -there's lots of 'em lyin' about. I wonder where they came from.”

Grubb shook his paw severely at Mother Mellus. ”That's what oi be tryin' a-tell 'ee, missus. 'Twere us'n's who chopped 'ee ropes off'n they 'ooks.”

”But we won't nex' time if you start a-shoutin' an' a-scoldin'. So there!”

225.

Saxtus was peering over the wall. ”Golly! Look at this!”

Upward of half a dozen searats had been killed by the fall, impaled on broken branches or crushed by their falling comrades. The rest lay about in a pitiful state, moaning as they nursed broken and aching limbs. Flagg scratched his whiskers in disbelief.

”Well, give me fins an' call me a fis.h.!.+ So that's what the rest of the pesky vermin were up to ...”

Grubb shook his furry head. ”Not oop, maister. Only arfways oop!”

Saxtus laughed loud at the joke, but his merriment withered under Mellus's icy stare. Flagg, however, was shaking paws, hugging and patting the three Dibbuns.

”Well done, fellers. Strike me, you saved the Abbey an' no mistake!”

Bagg and Runn sat against the wall, rubbing their eyes and yawning. The badger swept them up, one in each big paw. She tried to look stern but could not help smiling.

”Come on, heroes. Bed for you three, and stay there this time.”

Grubb rode down the wallsteps piggyback upon Flagg's broad back. ”Oim not afeared of n.o.beast. Mar-then 'ee Wurrier, that be oi!”

Graypatch stood out on the path, his sword tight at Pakatugg's neck as he called up to the ramparts, ”Truce, or I kill the squirrel!”

Rufe Brush slackened off his sling. ”Truce then. Speak your piece, rat.”

All along the west and north walls the defenders put aside their missiles to listen. Graypatch stood in a pool of moonlight and delivered his message: ”Stop throwing and let us withdraw.”

Rufe chuckled scornfully. ”Had enough, mangy chops?”

226.