Brian Jacques - Martin the Warrior [Redwall 6]

Ballaw already had the archers in three lines. He was in his element, ears quivering as he rapped out smart commands.

"First rank, shoot and drop!"

A volley of shafts hissed through the night.

"First rank, reload! Second rank, shoot and drop!"

Another hail of death followed in the wake of the first.

"Second rank, reload! Third rank, shoot and drop! Ready, first rank!"

Unable to see because of the bright light burning in their eyes, the walltop troops were hit hard. Amid it all Badrang was knocking the bows from fighters' paws. "Slopheads! Never mind shooting arrows, the doors are burning. Get sand, get water, put that blaze out!" He grabbed hold of Rotnose. "Did you hear me, muckears. Put the fi-"

The weasel slumped forward with a barbed arrow in his skull.

Boldred and the Warden released the net. It fell accurately, draping one end over three battlements while the rest of it trailed down the wall. Queen Amballa gave it a quick tug to make sure it was secure.

"Allbeast gonow, upupupupup!"

Gulba and Trung were alongside her as the net suddenly became alive with hedgehogs and pigmy shrews.

Ten Gawtrybe squirrels had made it to the top of the south wall. Six stood by on the narrow catwalk, fighting off hordebeasts as the other four let down ropes with sticks tied across them ladder fashion.

Starwort wound his sling about his waist and grabbed one of the ropes. "Come on, mates, just like climbin' up the riggin'!"

Grumm and the moles waited until they heard screams and shouts of combat on the other side of the wall.

"Roight, molers. Show'm 'ow to go a tunellen!"

Powerful digging claws tore at rock, sand, earth and grass as the hole began to sink deep and wide.

Pallum stood close to Rose. "I never was in a war, is it always this complicated?"

Rose shrugged as she twirled a sling. "Your guess is as good as mine, Pallum. I was never in one either!"

Standing on the darkened beach, Martin could see the confused figures in the light of the gates. He fired off his arrow, seeing a searat fall with it in his throat, as Ballaw bade his rank drop and reload their bows.

The firecart had done its work well. Despite copious doses of sand and inaccurately thrown water, the flames licked hungrily up the woodwork, eating into the timber until they were well established.

Rowarxoak came crawling, belly down, across the sand to Martin and Ballaw, joining them in time to see a ferret on the walltop beating wildly at his burning cloak.

"One badger reporting back. Mission successful what's next?"

Martin cast aside the bow and drew his sword. "I'm going round to climb that net on the north wall!"

Ballaw and the others went with him. Rowanoak heaved a sigh and sat down with a bow and arrow. "I'll stop here and practice my archery. I could've climbed that net though, when I was younger, and slimmer!"

The burning gate was a lost cause. Badrang sent a platoon of long pikes to stand in the courtyard and repel anybeast that tried to gain entrance once the gates fell. Dividing his walltroops into two groups, he gave charge of the north wall to Crosstooth and the south to Flea bane. Dashing down from the walls, he ran into the longhouse.

For the first time in his life the Tyrant felt the icy claws of terror grip him. With an awful certainty he knew he was defeated: Marshank would fall. He stifled a sob of fear in his throat as he looked around frantically.

What to do?

He was trapped inside his own fortress, surrounded by a determined horde of fighters. Some of them had been slaves of his, slaves that he had starved, beaten and ill treated. His paws began to shake. Suppose he was captured by those same slaves? Striving desperately not to think what they would do to him, he climbed out of the back window of the longhouse. He was facing the north wall, and the sounds of fighting above him were loud and furious. Badrang looked up. In the red glow from the blaze he saw his troops being pressed back by a growing multitude of small shrews and large fearsome hedgehogs. Bodies hurtled from the walltops amid wild battle shouts and war cries.

Suddenly the Tyrant's blood chilled, his mouth went dry with fright.

There illuminated in the light from the burning gates stood a warrior on the battlements. Bad rang recalled him in a flash. This was the one called Martin, the young mouse who had defied his authority, the one he had tied over the gate and imprisoned in the pit. The mouse warrior fought like ten beasts. Reckless of caution, he was everywhere at once, teeth bared, eyes glittering as he threw himself into the fray.

Hugging the wallshadows, Badrang whimpered and ran for his life, before he was seen and identified by the fearless avenger.

Starwort and Marigold left the savage Gawtrybe squirrels to deal with the troops on the south wall, laughing crazily as they wielded their stone headed axes against sword, spear and dagger. Heading their contingent of Broadstream fighters, the two otters descended the wall ladders to the courtyard. They charged straight into the platoon of pikebeasts who had been left to defend the burning gateway. With lightning agility the otters were in under the pikeshafts before the surprised foe had a chance to retaliate. Swinging stone loaded slings, the fighting otters battered their enemies to the ground with startling speed. As the last one fell, there was a sagging and creaking of timbers, and the gates began caving slowly inwards.

"Gangway, the doors are openin'!" Marigold yelled out urgently.

Otters scattered left, right and back, as the gates buckled and groaned, collapsing inwards with a crash of dust, fire, smoke and sparks.

Starwort picked himself up from where the scorching air had bowled him over. "Stan' aside, mates. Badger comin' through!"

Rowanoak came at full tilt, sand flying from her paws as she galloped straight at the inferno. With an ear splitting roar, the big badger leaped over the fallen gates. It was an awesome sight. Sailing through the flames, she landed square on all four paws inside the courtyard. The otters crowded round her, beating out the smouldering patches on her fur.

"There now, I wasn't as old as I thought," Rowanoak laughed, shuffling her paws to cool them on the ground. "Still life in the old stripes yet!"

Crosstooth fought his way along the north wall to the rear, hoping to reach the back wall, which offered quietness and a chance of escape.

The fox was a seasoned battler, and cut his way through several pigmy shrews with the long bladed spear he carried. Thrusting hard, he sent a shrew spinning from the walltop, knocking another flat with his spearshaft as he did.

Queen Amballa wriggled away from the questing spearpoint as the fox sought to skewer her, striking out valiantly with her small shrew sword. Martin came in with both footpaws first, catching Crosstooth in the lower back and sending him sprawling. Amballa was quick; she dispatched the foebeast with a single thrust as he fell forward upon her. Pushing her way free of the body, she leaped upright.

"Martinmouse save Ballamum!"

But Martin was not listening. He ran past her, along the walltop to where he had caught sight of Badrang down below, scurrying from the wall shadow to the burnt out slave compound.

Lying low, the Tyrant peered through the ash blackened stakes of the compound to the base of the rear wall. Moles, squirrels and mice were climbing out of a sizeable tunnel which had been dug through from the outside. Badrang saw his one chance of escape.

"Badraaaang, I am here!"

The Tyrant heard the challenge over the melee of battle. Casting a swift glance over his shoulder, he saw Martin dashing along the walltop. It was now or never. Badrang broke cover and ran for the tunnel, slashing viciously with his sword at anybeast who barred his way. Brandishing a ladle, a mole leaped growling at him. Badrang swung his sword. It caught the side of the ladle, sweeping Grumm away as his own ladle was smashed against the side of his head. A mousemaid threw herself on him, battering at his face with a pebble loaded in her sling. Once, twice, thrice she struck. Taken aback by the ferocity of the attack, Badrang tasted blood from a mouthwound. The loaded sling caught him hard in his left eye. Snarling with pain and rage, he grabbed the mousemaid. Lifting her easily, he flung her savagely from him. Rose's head struck the wall heavily, and she slid down like a broken doll.