Dandin slew him with a strong upward swing. "I don't want you alive, rat!"
Hookfin saw that the battle was lost. He sneaked away before the total rout of all the searats, skirting the edges of the fray until he found the section of the back wall that the boulder had smashed through. Without a backward glance he slipped out onto the hillside, with a sigh of relief that died upon his lips. Sitting in front of him on a rock was the impassive vole Tan Loc. Hookfin froze. Drawing his long sword, Tan Loc whetted it against the rock, speaking in a flat voice without even looking at Hookfin. "I've been waiting for you."
oo
Back at the battle, Joseph found himself fighting for his life. A searat was choking him from behind as Grim-tooth swung his cutlass in front. The bellmaker parried each thrust as he fought to shake off the rat, who clung behind him like a leech. Grimtooth slashed furiously, knowing the death of a leader might turn the tide of battle back in favor of the searats. He smiled grimly as the gray-haired mouse began to weaken, and closed in for the kill.
"Redwaaalll!"
Mariel leaped off the back of a falling rat, swinging her Gullwhacker. Grimtooth turned. Catching the full force of the blow between his eyes, he dropped like a log. Durry Quill took the strangler from behind with a rock from the wall debris.
Tarquin fought his way through to them, a broken lance clutched in his paws.
"One more good sally an' they're finished, chaps, I say, wot!" He turned this way and that, bobbing up
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and down. "Where's me old boss got to? Anybeast seen Lord Rawnblade?"
Mariel struck off into the melee. "No. Come on, let's find him!"
They were joined by Dandin as they dodged around skirmishing groups.
The steps up to Fort Bladegirt were littered with dead searats. Durry picked his way between them, pointing with his dagger at the big oak door, which had been hacked almost to splinters and hung crazily on one hinge.
"Ha! Betcher Rawnblade did this wi' that great tree-chopper o' his."
Mariel strode past Durry into the building. "We'll see who gets Gabool!"
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Saxtus gazed out from the ramparts of Red wall. The sun cast cloud shadows onto the path and across the greenery of the woodlands; fleecy clouds scudded across the sky on a warm breeze. The days of summer season were numbered now.
Simeon joined him, his paws feeling along the battlements until he came in contact with Saxtus. "The autumn will arrive soon, Saxtus." "How did you know what I was thinking, Brother?" Simeon chuckled and patted Saxtus's paw. "I didn't, it was just an educated guess. Creatures often think I have wondrous powers, but it's just experience and observation. Though I do sense that you have more reason than the change of seasons for standing up here. It comes to me that you are watching the road. Would I be wrong in supposing that you are awaiting the return of certain friends?"
Saxtus searched the blind herbalist's wise old face. "You are right, of course, but it doesn't take a genius to know that. Dandin and Durry were my best friends Mariel too, for the short time she was with us. I had a dream, you see, the night before last. It was of a great battle, I saw them fighting with searats, like the crew
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who attacked our Abbey, but there were many many more than that."
"Was it through Martin the Warrior that this dream came?"
"Ah, now you do surprise me. What makes you say that, Simeon?"
"Oh, we are old friends, the spirit of the Abbey and I. Martin has visited me more than once in the land of sleep. You must always heed his warnings. What did you see of this battle?"
"It was not very clear. I saw an old gray mouse, quite a big fellow. He was being attacked by two searats. I cried out in my dream for Martin to help him. Mariel and Durry Quill rescued him. There was lots of fighting, a great battle things weren't very clear though, and it all faded after a while, Martin too."
"I say, yoohoo! You two up there, what's the matter? Don't you want to try my seedcake?"
It was Hon Rosie waving from her wheelchair. Friar Alder and Cockleburr were pushing it, both their faces pictures of strained patience.
"We'll talk about this another time," Simeon whispered to Saxtus. Turning in the direction of the wheel-chair, he waved. "Seedcake, did you say? I used to be a fair cook at making that myself. Hold on, we'll come down and try some. Give me your paw, Saxtus."
00
Lunch was being served in Great Hall. As they entered, Mellus nudged Foremole, murmuring in a low voice, "Here's another two victims being brought in to sample the dreaded seedcake. What Rosie made it with I don't know."
"Burr, you'm can say that agin. Oi near broken moi diggen claws just picken up a sloice, marm."
Rosie leaned from her chair, scanning the table. "I say, where's me jolly old seedcake gone? You haven't scoffed it all, have you? Well, that's the bally limit. I suppose I'll have to bake another."
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"Er, no seeds left, marm," Friar Alder interrupted swiftly.
Cockleburr tugged the Friar's sleeve. "Perishin' pud-dens, Friar. There's a great box of seeds at the back of the floursacks, I found it meself this m Oof!"
Alder elbowed his assistant sharply in the stomach and carried on smoothly. "Oh, those seeds, you mean. They've got damp and were beginning to sprout, I was meaning to leave them out for the birds. Oh dear, not a single seed in the kitchens or the storerooms. What a shame!"
Underneath the table, Grubb and Bagg were using the remains of the seedcake as building blocks. "We'll have to get miz Rosie more seeds if we wanna make a model of the Abbey," Bagg grumbled as he looked about for more.
"Hurrhurr, Froir Alder'11 scrangle 'ee iffen you'm mention et."
"I s'pose so. I heard 'im say to the Habbit that he hopes miz RosieTl get better afore she kills us all wi' seedcakes."
oo
Saxtus wandered through to watch some creatures working on the great Abbey tapestry. Brother Hubert was supervising the design from sketches he had found in the gatehouse. He tossed a hank of light brown thread to Sister Serena.
"This color should suit if you're starting the face of the Warrior."
Saxtus sorted a thread out of a slightly darker tone. "Excuse me, Brother, but I think this shade is the correct one."
Hubert held it up to the light, inspecting it carefully. "Hmm, you could be right, Saxtus, but how do you know that this is the color of Martin's face?"
"I sort of sensed it."
oo Lord Rawnblade Widestripe strode through the
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entrance hall of Fort Bladegirt, the sword Verminfate sending out showers of sparks as he clashed it against the stone columns leading to the main stairway.
"Gabool, it is I, Rawnblade the badger. Show yourself!"
The rumble of the badger Lord's challenge echoed back at him from empty chambers and deserted corridors as he mounted the stairs, his keen dark eyes searching everywhere. Rawnblade sniffed, but the odor of searat permeated the air throughout and he could not distinguish the scent of his enemy. Kicking aside the debris of cast-off clothing, useless weaponry and stale food the rats had left behind, he ascended the wide stone stairs.
oo
Heedless of whether the rats had won or lost the battle, Gabool listened to the sounds of the badger ringing through his fort as he nerved himself up for the confrontation he knew would inevitably come. Gripping both sword and dagger, the Searat King ranged about his upper chamber, holding a muttered conference with himself.