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"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.

Roaring and screaming like a wounded wolf, Martin threw himself from the walltop. Badrang leaped into the hole, only to find Pallum in a needletight ball blocking his way. The burned palisade of the slave compound saved Martin, breaking his fall as it exploded in a cloud of black ashdust to the dawn streaked sky. Badrang had time to hack at Pallum only once before the Warrior was on him. He was heaved bodily from the hole, arching his back in agony as the flat of Martin's small sword whipped him.

"Get up, you scum! Up on your paws and face me!"

Badrang scrambled up. Holding the long sword of Luke the Warrior before him with both paws, he rushed Martin. The onlookers gave a cry of dismay as the sword raked Martin's chest. Heedless of it, the Warrior began striking back. Steel clashed upon steel as the young mouse with the short sword battered Badrang round and round the ruins of the compound. Badrang flailed out in a panic, catching his enemy on the shoulder, arm and paw. They locked blades and stood with their noses touching, Badrang's eyes wide with horror as he stared into the face of the snarling, unstoppable Warrior who was forcing him backwards as he gritted out, "I told you I would return someday and put an end to you!"

Wrenching his face away, the stoat bit deep into his foe's shoulder, only to find himself lifted bodily and hurled hard against the wall.

Martin flung the shrew sword from him, locking both paws around Badrang's grip on the sword. The Tyrant wailed as he felt the Warrior's inexorable power turning the weapon until its point was hovering close to his heart.

Badrang's nerve deserted him. "Don't kill me," he sobbed. "You can have it all, the fortress, everythi-!"

The Tyrant of Marshank's mouth fell open and his head lolled to one side as he fell forward, carrying Martin to the ground underneath him. With his last vestige of strength, the young mouse pushed the slain foebeast from him and tugged his father's sword loose. Lying on his side with sand crusting the blood of his warwounds, Martin saw dawn's light beam across the face of Rose where she lay close to him by the wall.

The merciful darkness closed in on him as he murmured to her,