"Hurr hurr," the mole chuckled. "Oi be glad too, mizzy, 'twere a vurry froightenen sound. Oi didden loik et one liddle bit, hurr no."
Grumm peeked over the rocky outcrop at Martin on the walltop.
"Mizzy Roser, 'earken! Wot be they villuns a doin' to Marthen?"
The mousemaid began twirling her loaded sling. "I don't know, but whatever it is we'll have to stop them!"
Gurrad was trying to get the cord noose that held the fish over Martin's head, but the young mouse was ducking and struggling wildly. The rat was losing his temper.
"Hold still, mouse, or I'll pin this fish t'yer with me spearpoint!"
Thwack!
Gurrad dropped the fish with an agonized yelp as the slingstone bounced off his paw.
Badrang did not see the stone. All he saw was Gurrad dropping the fish and hopping about sucking on his paw. The Tyrant stood up, knocking his thronechair backwards as he yelled at the unfortunate rat.
"Stop playing the fool an' get that fish round his neck before I come up there and batter some sense into you with it!"
As Gurrad bent to pick the fish up, Grumm fitted a sizeable rock into the spoon of his ladle and whipped it off in the direction of the rat's bent bottom.
Thwump!
It struck hard and true, knocking Gurrad from the walltop. He plummeted over and landed with a sickening thud in the courtyard below.
Badrang leapt forward, sword in paw, waving at the creatures around him.
"To the walltop, quick. Somebeast's hurling rocks!"
They piled up the broad wooden ladders on to the walltop.
Rotnose and Hisk were first up. They were immediately hit by flying stones. Hisk fell senseless, Rotnose crouched, massaging an aching breastbone. Badrang ducked another salvo as he went into a half stoop, shouting at the others, "Where are the stones coming from, can you see?"
Skalrag stood upright, peering at the seemingly deserted shore.
"Must be somebeast hidin' out there, Lord!"
Below, at the corner of the courtyard where the slaves were grouped, the big squirrel Felldoh decided to take part in the action. He ducked to the back of the crowd, picking up several large pebbles as he went. With energy born of anger, he chucked a large rough stone at the back of Skalrag's head. Many times Felldoh had bent under Skalrag's rod; now was the chance to repay the sadistic fox.
The flying rock did not strike Skalrag's skull, it narrowly missed, but took half of his left ear in the process, ripping it off as it whizzed by. Felldoh immediately flung two more stones, then keeping his paws at his sides gazed around in amazement as if some other creature were doing the throwing.
As Skalrag screeched in pain, Stiffear sprang up, pointing down into the courtyard as he shouted excitedly, "The stones are coming from inside our own fortress!"
Thwack!
A stone from the shoreside struck him square in the back.
Rotnose, still rubbing his chest, sneered at Stiffear, "Rubbish, they're coming from the shore, I tell yer. I was hit meself ....
Eeeyowch!"
A stone from the courtyard stung his tail. Confusion reigned on the walltop. Badrang and his creatures did not know which side the missiles were coming from. The Tyrant lay flat and raised his head slightly. He could not see the shore clearly but he had an uninterrupted view of the sea. His stomach churned suddenly and he began to curse at the sight his sharp eyes rested on. One more quick look to ascertain that he was not wrong sent Badrang scrambling for the ladder, calling hoarsely as he went, "Cut that mouse down from there and bring him with you. Get down into the fortress, quick!"
"But, Sire, we think that there's somebeast behind those rocks slinging stones ..."
Badrang shot a venomous glance at Rotnose as he hissed, "Do as I say, scumbrain. We've more to worry about than a few stones. Tramun Clogg's out there with the Seascarab, sailing on a direct course for us!"
Grumm was running out of good rocks to fit his ladle when Rose pointed to the wall.
"Look, they've had enough, they're cutting Martin loose and retreating into the fortress. Thank the seasons that we were able to help the poor mouse, eh, Grumm?"
The mole mopped his brow and sat with his back against the rocks of their hideout on the beach in the hot midmorning sunlight.
"Yurr, boi 'okey, us'ns serpintly gave they vurmints summat to think abowt. Oi gave 'em billyoh wi' moi ole ladler, hurr hurr!"
Rose could not help grinning at her faithful companion. "So you did, Grumm. That ladle comes in useful for other things than stirring soup with."
But Grumm was not listening. Facing seaward, he was pointing straight out at the Seascarab, which was drawing closer by the moment.
"Lookit, mizzy. Searatters an' vurmints, oi'll be bounden!"
A chill of fear ran through the mousemaid. Corsairs! They had seldom visited this coast, but the tales of horror and death that surrounded the raiders from the sea were legendary. Hastily they gathered their few belongings.
"Let's not hang about here, Grumm. Come on, we'll lie low in the marshes behind the fortress."
Cap'n Tramun Clogg was in high villainous humour. He cut an awkward jig, his clogs clattering noisily on the poopdeck.
"Haharrharr! I reckernizes that flag flyin' o'er yon place ashore. Ho lucky day, I knowed it, I could feel it in me clogs! There's me messmate of bygone seasons Badrang, built hisself a stone castle, pretty as you please. 'Ow many pore liddle slaves would yer say it took to work on a place like that, Crosstooth?"
A wicked looking fox draped in purple bandannas scratched his chin. "Hmmm, I'd say lots, Cap'n."
"Lots an' crowds?"
"Aye, lots 'n' crowds."
"Which is most, Crosstooth, lots or crowds?"
"Why bless yer 'eart, Cap'n, crowds, that means lots an' lots!"
"Haharrharr, well said, matey. Break out the weapons while I lays plans for a reunion party with me ole messmate Badrang!"
Martin stood swaying on swollen footpaws, his arms still bound.
Badrang sat upon his thronechair, eyes narrowed as he watched the reprieved prisoner.
"Hmm, like I said before, you're not short of nerve, Martin.
Hearken to me now, I could use a creature like you."
From beneath hooded eyelids Martin watched the Tyrant as he spoke, the young mouse's gorge beginning to rise at the stoat's proposal.
"How would you like to be a Captain in my horde? The best of food, slaves to command as you please, I'll even give you a spear to carry if you swear loyalty to me as your master. Well, what've you got to say to that, young un?"
Martin made no reply. His paws were deadened by the tight bonds, but his rage was aroused and his jaws were strong. He launched himself in a flash upon Badrang, setting his teeth into the stoat's outstretched paw and biting it savagely to the bone.
The Tyrant roared and bellowed in agony as Martin was set upon by guards, his jaws prised apart with a dagger blade as rods and spearbutts beat furiously at him. The young mouse went down on the ground as Badrang sprinkled blood about, shaking his paw in anguish as he gritted from between clenched teeth, "You'll wish the gannets had got you by the time I'm finished with you, whelp. Oh, don't worry, you'll die, but not fast. Fraction by fraction until you scream to welcome death. Take him away and lock him up. I'll see to him after I'm rid of Clogg!"
Inside the courtyard, slightly to the left of the main gate, was a prison pit, dug deep into the ground with a heavy grating on top. The cover creaked as it was slid to one side. Martin was hurled in, still with both paws bound to his sides. He fell through the darkness and landed with a cushioned thump on something soft. There was a grunt and somebeast was helping him upright while another untied his bonds.
A gruff voice spoke. "Martin, well at least you're still alive. I'm Felldoh the squirrel,"
The young mouse rubbed his paws, grimacing as the blood began circulating properly. The squirrel rubbed and patted him until he felt able to move easily again. Martin recognized him. He knew Felldoh as a kindred spirit, another born rebel who had fallen foul of the vermin regime's justice.