The owl blinked as she watched the assault on the fortress. "You are right, Rowanoak. Martin seems to be the only one who has any kind of plan, but he is unaware of others when his warrior blood is roused.
We need a plan of attack. Badrang is not stupid, he has the advantage of the walls and is using them well. Other creatures less shrewd might have been panicked by our charge; not him, though. He is a cool one in a pinch."
Ballaw brightened up. "That's it, a plan. Capital! What d'you suggest, marm?"
41
Martin let go of the shattered remnants of the inadequate chunk of driftwood he and his allies had been using as a battering ram.
Drawing his sword, he attacked the gates in a wild rage.
Starwort and Gulba ducked into the shelter of the gates as missiles rained down from above. They tried to restrain Martin. "It's no use, mate, the gates are too strong. Come away!"
Martin hacked and hammered at the stout timbers, oblivious to everything about him. Rose pressed through the chaos, sided by Grumm and Pallum. They forced a way through to the gate. Martin halted at the sight of her, deflecting a broken spear haft with his short sword. "Rose, get out of here. It's too dangerous!"
She picked up the sharp pointed end of the spear boldly. "Not without you, Martin. Come with us, you are needed. Starwort, Gulba, you too. We need a proper battle plan, too many creatures are being killed needlessly. We won't get inside Marshank by charging and milling about willy nilly. Come!"
It had turned noon when otter drums sounded over the fray. The attackers broke off their charging and retreated back to the sands around the low dune.
Crosstooth shook his spear in the air jubilantly. "Yah, they've turned tail and run!"
Badrang knew better. He had seen Ballaw's fighters contacting the leaders it was a calculated retreat. However, the Tyrant said nothing of this. Imitating Cross tooth, he waved his sword. "See, I told you it was easy. Look at them, running like frightened babies now that they've had a taste of real fighting from warriors like us, eh lads!"
Gesturing and prancing on the walltops, the horde took up his cry.
"Haha, had enough, have you? Cowards!"
"Come back and fight me, I only slew ten!"
"Ten? I slew two score and I'd have got more of 'em if they hadn't scurried off in a fright!"
Tramun Clogg left off his grave digging and clambered to the walltop. He sized the situation up immediately. "Burn me clogs, buckoes. Yore a bunch of strawheads iffen you think those fighters are runnin' away. I'd save me breath fer more action iffen I was you lot!"
Whock!
Badrang dealt Clogg a ferocious blow across his head with a long pike he had snatched from Gruzzle. The corsair fell senseless in a heap. Badrang kicked him from the walltop, and Clogg's unconscious form fell with a thump on to a heap of sand he had excavated. The Tyrant stoat leaned on the pike, dismissing his former partner. "Don't listen to that old fool, his brains are all in his clogs. Crosstooth, see that everybeast has extra rations. Stay awake, lads. Maybe they'll get brave enough to give it another try. I certainly hope so, eh?"
This announcement was greeted with raucous cheers.
While the wounded were treated by Rose and Brome, food was divided up among the groups of creatures seated around the low hillock. Martin sat with the Council of Chieftains as they laid war plans. Rowanoak and Boldred were rocks of good sense, rejecting the wild schemes of hot headed beasts, considering the suggestions of cooler and wiser creatures.
Queen Amballa had several of her pigmy shrews drag a large square fishing net to the hill. It was made of strong woven kelp. "See, Martinmouse, wallbeast throw this, snarl us up plentygood!"
A Gawtrybe squirrel laughed scornfully. "Hehee, good game. They di'n't catch squirrels, Gawtrybe's too fast for nets. Heehee!"
Martin sat up alert, the light of idea dawning in his eyes. "That's it!
We go in over the walls on two sides when night falls, and use the nets one side, say on the north, while the squirrels take the south wall!"
Starwort's wife Marigold put down the pitcher she had been drinking from. "An' what's Badrang's crew goin' to be doin' while all this goes on, 'cos they won't be sleepin' or pickin' their claws."
Martin pointed across to where the old Rambling Rosehip troupe's fire charred cart lay half buried in the sand. "Will the wheels on that thing still turn?"
Ballaw shrugged. "What d'you think, Buckler old lad?"
The mole gazed at it for a while before giving his verdict. "Ho urr,
'twere a gudd ole cart that'n. Oi wager oi'll get 'er goin' tho' et woant go furr, Marthen."
The Warrior mouse shook Buckler by the paw. "It won't have to go far, friend. Only from here to those gates, loaded with burning grass and wood, just to create a diversion!"
Boldred blinked excitedly. "It could work! Hold back the attack until before dawn; that's when they'll least expect it. The Warden and I will fly the net and drop it over the north wall. Who'll be going over there, Martin?"
"Queen Amballa with her warriors and the big hedgehogs."
Trung thumped his loaded thong weapon gleefully into the sand, grinning at his wife as she nursed her immense warclub. "Y'hear that, me dearie? We'll go over paw in paw!"
"The Gawtrybe squirrels will help the otters to scale the south wall,"
Martin continued.
Starwort winked at a nearby squirrel. "Eat plenty, mate, an get yer stren'th up. I'm no featherweight."
Martin eyed the cart grimly. "I'll be in charge of that. All our hopes hang on it. Right, any more suggestions?"
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'