Brian Jacques - Martin the Warrior [Redwall 6]

Grumm held up a digging paw. "Aye, Marthen, thurr be other molers yurr. Us'ns tunnel round 'ee back wall, gurt woid 'ole, given everybeast a chance to get insoides."

Old Barkjon stood up, dusting himself off slowly. "I'll go with Buckler and the others to fix the cart up, then I'll bury Felldoh."

Martin put his paw about the old squirrel's shoulders. "We'll come with you, Rose, Pallum, Brome, Grumm and myself. We all started out together, so we'd like to help put our friend to rest."

The Rambling Rosehip Players voted to accompany Barkjon too, all wanting to pay their last respects to their friend.

Fleabane laughed against the walltop. "Boggs was right, mate, I can see them tryin' to fix up that burnt cart. Betcha they'll be gone by mornin'."

Rotnose peered out into the gathering evening. "Well, I won't be sorry to see the back o' them. They fought like madbeasts, an' as fer that big squirrel, Fellow or whatever 'e was called, that one was a real madbeast. I never seen nothin' like it!"

Fleabane nodded. "Aye, well 'e won't do no more slayin'. They buried 'im where 'e fell. I never want t' be within a league of a warrior like 'im fer the rest o' me days!"

Badrang passed by them as he inspected the walltop troops. "Cut the gossip and keep your eyes peeled. No sleeping while you stand at stations."

When he had passed by, Fleabane muttered to Rot nose, "That stoat's gettin' to be a right ole worrywart, mate. Take it from me, they ain't comin' back fer more of what we give 'em t'day."

Rotnose propped his chin on a battlement. "Y'right there, matey.

Listen, we only got a few hours shuteye last night an' we been fightin'

all day. Now I'm gonna take a liddle snooze. You keep watch then you can 'ave second nap."

Badrang descended from the walls and went in company with some of his Captains to take supper in the long house. Boggs rubbed his paws together in anticipation as he walked with them. "I'd give me whiskers fer a good beaker of kelp beer!"

A cracked voice came out of the shadows. "Badrang is the great Evil One, mates, leadin' you all to yer doom. Steer clear of 'im. Foller me an' dig graves deadbeasts can't 'arm yer!"

Boggs shuddered. "Sounds like Clogg, though I don't see 'im."

Crosstooth laughed harshly. "Ole Clogg isn't right in the brainbox no more. May'ap it was that crack you give 'im with the pike, Sire. The daft ole beast's been goin' about like that since 'e came to, rantin' an'

ravin'."

Clogg's crazy laugh seemed to come from nowhere.

"Haharrharrharr! Stay with Badrang the Evil One an' yore all dead meat. Come an' dig nice graves with me, mates!"

Badrang paused with his paw on the longhouse door. Staring out into the gathering gloom he called aloud, "Stay clear of me, you crazy old coot, or I'll let daylight through your hide, d'you hear me?"

"Haharrharr, ye can't see me 'cos I'm invisible. I've got a nice dark hole waitin' for ye, Evil One!"

The Captains hurried inside. As Badrang slammed the door, the upturned wheelbarrow over a freshly dug grave moved. Clogg peered out from under it.

"I'm arf a stoat an' arf a mole,

An' I'll bury youse all in a nice deep 'ole,

Down, down where it's still an' cold,

An' y'never live to get old!"

Every fighter had been fed. No fires glowed in the still summer night. It was warm and heavy. Martin sat awake with Rose as the camp lay in slumber. The mousemaid stared up at the stars which twinkled with pale fires in the midnight heavens.

"Strange isn't it, Martin, the same stars that shine on this terrible place with all its death and war, those same stars are shining over Noonvale, where all is at peace and war has never been. What are you thinking of, Warrior?"

Martin smiled, nodding at the sight of Grumm, his small fat stomach rising and falling gently. "I wasn't thinking of anything, Rose, I was just watching Grumm, flat out and snoozing with his ladle clutched in both paws."

The mousemaid relieved the sleeping mole of his ladle, placing it close to his side where he would find it on waking. "He's the most friendly and loyal mole anybeast could wish to know. Grumm has always looked out for me, ever since I was a tiny mousebabe in Noon vale. When we go back there you'll make lots of friends among our moles you're a hero to them."

"Me, a hero? What for?" Martin laughed softly.

"For bringing down that great dead sycamore. They've been at it for seasons, on and off, without much success. Then you came along and in a single day it was uprooted and fallen."

The young mouse passed her a cloak Trung had given him. "You look tired, Rose. Better get some rest. Go on. I'm not sleepy, I'll sit here close by."

Rose draped the cloak lightly about her, and she was soon asleep.

Martin sat up, thinking of many things as he felt the night hours slip slowly by.

42

Ballaw was wakened by a shake from Martin. It was still dark, though the night was on the wane.

"Come on, it's time!"

The camp was stirring quietly into life. Grurrun had taken off with Pallum and Rose and a lot of others; they travelled in a wide semi circle, round to the back walls of Marshank. Boldred and the Warden stood ready, the big kelp net clutched tight between them.

Queen Amballa and her pigmy shrews grouped with the big hedgehogs on one side, while Starwort and his otters mingled with the Gawtrybe squirrels. Martin, Ballaw and Rowanoak inspected the cart. It was flimsy in the extreme and wobbly on its wheels, piled high with grass, driftwood and brush.

Buckler patted it fondly. "Hurr, she'll do a gurt last run, oi'll stake moi name on et."

Amballa raised her paw to Gulba and their joint forces moved off.

Starwort gave the squirrels a stern nod to set them on their way. Now there were only fifty archers under Martin's command left in camp. At his signal, Buckler set flint to tinder and Rowanoak braced herself in the fire blackened shafts.

"Nearly curtain time, chaps," Ballaw whispered. "Here we go!"

Gruzzle was dreaming. In his dream he was back on board his old ship. Someone had lit a fire on the deck and creatures were dancing around it shouting. The searat felt drowsily happy. He wanted to join in with them and dance around the flickering flames. He moaned luxuriously and shifted. Slipping off his spear handle, Gruzzle cracked his chin hard on the battlement, thrusting him into wakefulness and horrifying reality. The blazing cart plunged madly over the shore towards the fortress gates.

"Owch! Wha, er, 'ey, y'can't do that! Fire, fire, 'elp!" In seconds all was chaos and mad confusion. Most of the soldiers on the walltops were sound asleep. They came awake tripping and bumping into each other. The longhouse door flew open and Badrang dashed out with his Captains stumbling behind. Hearing the shouts and seeing the bright glow against the darkness, the Tyrant drew his sword and yelled mightily, "Front wall! The gates! Hurry!"

He raced up the wall ladder, with Clogg's voice ringing over the alarm shouts. "Haharr, 'tis the ghost of me burned ship come back to take revenge on ye, Evil One. You should 'ave listened t' me, Badrang!"

The heat of the roaring conflagration scorched Rowan oak's cheeks as she pushed the blazing cart along. Martin and the others ran after her, having been driven from the sides of the cart by the searing flames. At a sharp shout from Rowanoak they halted, notching arrows to their bows. The badger continued running with the cart. Putting her every last ounce of strength into the act, she gave one mighty final push and fell flat. Crackling and hissing with tails of flame like a massive comet, the cart careered madly into the gates of Marshank.

Whoom! Crumph!

It struck the gates, blossoming like a monstrous fiery flower as the whole thing burst on the timbers, sending showers and cascades of angry red sparks upwards in a mushroom of smoke.