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the formidable longbows thudding into the horde of advancing foe rats.
Pakatugg shoved his paw through the bars. "Give me a dagger and I'll cut the ropes!"
Clary tossed him a freshly sharpened knife from Redwall's kitchen. "What ho, you old villain! Chop away at the back of the cage, would you."
A spear took Thyme in the right footpaw. Gritting his teeth, he wrenched it out and hurled it back, wounding its thrower. "Ah well, no more runnin' for me today, wot?"
Rosie stopped a charging rat with her lancepoint. "Hate to remind you, old thing, but we didn't come here to run."
Clary whacked out fiercely, breaking a leg with the heavy yew bow. "Famous last stand, wot? Go out in a blaze of glory an' all that. Right, chaps. Another quick volley, an' give 'em a shout t' let 'em know we've
arrived. Fire!"
Three arrows flew from the longbows into the seething rat pack.
"Eulaliaaaa!!!"
Pakatugg slashed frenziedly at the remaining rope lashings in the back of the cage. The bindings parted and a section of the woodwork fell away. The oarslaves huddled dumbly in a group. He pushed through them, tugging at the back of Clary's belt through the front bars.
"I've done it, part of the back's fallen down!"
Colonel Clary winced as an arrow took him in the shoulder. "Wait'11 the squirrels arrive, old thing, then follow 'em. Take all the slaves an' stick close to them, no matter what."
Clary threw back his head and yelled, "Rufe, Tom, Treerose! Now now now!"
Thyme was kneeling. Wounded in both footpaws, he bravely held his bow horizontally, firing as rapidly as his dwindling quiver of arrows permitted. Glancing
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back, he saw the three Redwall squirrels herding the timid oarslaves out through the broken cage into the woodlands. Rosie was throttling a struggling rat on her bowstring as Clary held off the mob with a lance held in each paw.
"Mission accomplished, eh, Rosie old scout!"
"Rather! Whoohahahahahooh!"
Standing at the back of the crew, Graypatch ran around belaboring with the flat of his sword as he roared hoarsely, "Get into 'em! Come on, yer sluggards, rush 'em!"
Frink took aim and skillfully threw a long dagger. "Got 'im! I've wounded the big 'un in the ribs!"
The grin of triumph froze on his face as an oak arrow found him.
Thyme tugged at Clary's leg. "Out of arrows, old sport. Get me up on me pins an' give me a lance!"
Pakatugg assisted in getting Thyme upright. Clary glared at him.
"Where did you come from, mister? You were supposed to escape with the rest. I won't stand for insubordination, y'know!"
Armed with a searat cutlass and spear, the squirrel growled dangerously. "I'm stoppin' here, see. Don't like searatsdirty vermin beat me an' made sport o' me. Nobeast does that to Pakatugg. I'll teach 'em!"
Rosie flinched as a sword caught her high on the cheek. "Good for you, Paka, y'nasty old rogue, give 'em vinegar!"
Flinging their empty quivers and longbows into the faces of the rats, the long patrol brandished daggers and lances. Charging forward, they carried the battle straight into the ranks of the enemy, with Clary calling out aloud, "Nice day for it, wot!"
Thyme staggered forward. "Summer's my fav'rite season, old lad!"
Hon Rosie clapped Pakatugg on the back. "Let's give
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'em one last shout, for Salamandastron an' the jolly old Abbey."
"Eulaliaaaa! Redwaaaaaaall!"
Accompanied by an old squirrel, the long patrol threw themselves into the howling mob of searats.
oo
Not just Flagg, but every creature in Redwall Abbey stood out upon the north ramparts, scanning the path in the pale moonlight for signs of movement. Mellus and Flagg were armed with longbows; lanterns flickered all along the walltop in the hushed silence. Simeon the blind herbalist stood with the Abbot and the Dibbuns, their bedtime forgotten in the tense, waiting atmosphere. Simeon's voice was barely above a whisper, but it could be heard by many as he addressed the Abbot.
"What's happening out there, Bernard?" "Nothing, old friend. It's very quiet and still down there."
"Hurr, be they a-cummen yet, maister Simmen?" Simeon patted Grubb's velvety head. "Only if you're very good and stay quiet, little mole." "Oi be vurry soilint naow. Hussshhher!" "Whatever possessed them to go on such an insane venture?" Mellus murmured to Flagg. "Six of ours against all that rotten horde. And to think it was I who urged Colonel Clary to rescue the slaves in the first place."
Flagg shook his head. "No, marm, it weren't you. Clary had it in his mind to do the deed anyway. He left me a scroll tellin' all. I burned it in the kitchen stove as he wished me to. So don't blame yerself, marm. They were sworn to fight searats from birth; it was their destiny."
oo
Minutes stretched into hours as the Redwallers waited, straining their eyes along the north path, sometimes expectant at a sign of movement, only to have their
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hopes dashed by the realization that it was merely a shadow as clouds scudded across the moon, or the rustle of breeze-stirred foliage.
The Dibbuns had finally fallen asleep. Sister Sage covered them with blankets from the gatehouse as they lay huddled together in the northwest corner of the walltop.
Saxtus and Sister Serena carried a caldron of leek and celery broth from the kitchens, followed by Friar Alder and Cockleburr, laden with wheat farls.
Gabriel Quill stared toward the eastern horizon over the treetops of Mossflower. "Be dawn in two hour, I reckons."
Foremole was slurping soup rather noisily from a wooden bowl when Simeon placed a restraining paw on him. "Hush, I think I can sense something."
The Abbot held up his paws for silence all around. "What is it, Simeon?"
The blind mouse leaned out across the battlements, his whiskers quivering slightly. "Metal, I thought I could hear metal . . . Yes, there it is! Any signs on the path?"
"None whatsoever."
"Sssh, there it is again, over there on the woodland edgemetal. Wait . . . it's chains, I can hear chains!"
Saxtus sprang up between the battlements with a whoop. "Hurrah! It's them, I can see Rufe Brush leading the slaves out of Mossflower onto the path. Hi, Rufe!"
Flagg acted speedily. "Marm, put an arrow to your bow and stand beside me here. We'll keep them covered. Saxtus, Foremole, Gabe, you'll find spears down by the main gate. Take twenty with you and escort them back in. Keep your wits about you an' your eyes open. Hurry now, they may be followed by searats!"
oo
Without further event the last eleven slaves made it into the safety of Redwall Abbey. As the chains were
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being cut from their wasted limbs, the Abbot questioned the three squirrels who had taken part in the rescue. Treerose and Oak Tom were crying; even the normally tough Rufe Brush broke down and wept bitterly as they related what they had seen at the magnificent last stand of the long patrol.
"They didn't stand a chance, yet they came through the center of that searat camp laughing and joking. They were completely surrounded!"
Oak Tom was pale, his voice low and trembling. "I never thought that was what they meant to do, but it was the only thing they could have done to free the slaves. What makes it all so strange is that they knew what would happen, how it must end!"