sparks and flaming splinters crackling as they leapt from the blazing tree. Skipper and his otters rolled it forward using
spearpoints and ash staves. It teetered a moment on the brow of the ridge, then took off with a crash, rumbling, rolling,
bouncing, and spinning.
Lady Cregga Rose Eyes and the Long Patrol army had been plodding all day. The going was awkward and rough
in the narrow rift; it seemed to stretch on forever. They had waded through mud and water, squeezed through narrow
gorges, and climbed over collapsed debris.
Deodar was first to see it. “Look, Sergeant, up ahead, that light!”
A sudden bright glow lit the evening sky from a ridgetop in the distance. It flared brightly then disappeared,
leaving the hares blinking against the gathering darkness. Sergeant Clu-brush placed himself in front of Lady Cregga,
blocking her way.
“Deodar, Algador, drop y’packs but ’old on to yore weapons. Scout up ahead, close to that ridge as y’can get. We
needs h’information quick as to wot’s goin1 on up yonder. So make all speed there an’ back. Run lively now, young
’uns!”
As he spoke, the Sergeant had pulled Corporal Ellbrig and several others past him to barricade the rift. Both
Runners hared off.
Lady Cregga glared fiercely at Clubrush. “Stand out of my way, Sergeant!”
It would be said in later seasons that this was the first time a hare openly disobeyed a Badger Ruler. Sergeant
Clubnish drew his sword.
“Sorry, Lady, but we got to wait ’ere “til the Runners gets back. If you goes chargin’ off now, not knowin’ wot lies
ahead, you could get y’self an’ all these slain, recruits an’ veterans. We must know wot’s goin’ on at that ridge first
afore we goes at it. Now I know y’could snuff me out like a candle, marm, but I’ll try to stop ye if’n I can, for the
good of all ’ere!”
Lady Cregga Rose Eyes raised the terrible axpike high over her head with one paw. She brought it smashing down
into the rift wall, knocking out a great quantity of soil-bound rock.
“So be it, we wait! But those hares of yours had better be quick, Sergeant, because I won’t wait long!”
53
Vermin screamed and wailed as the blazing pine trunk cut a swathe through the Rapscallion ranks. It thundered off
the hillside, over the valley, and disappeared with a crash of loose earth into the rift, where one side of the defile fell
in on top of it.
This was followed by a frightening silence.
Galloper Riffle rubbed both his eyes, peering into the fallen night. “What’s happenin’? Why’s everythin’ so bally
quiet—I can’t see a flippin’ thing!”
A shrew standing by Riffle blinked hard several times. “Neither c’n I, matey, all’s I see is colored lights, poppin’
all round. ’Twas that burnin’ tree wot did it.”
Most of the Redwallers were grouped at the center of the ridge, in the place the otters had launched the trunk from.
A shout from the far side of the ridgetop alerted them.
“Help! They’re attackin’ this end!”
With their sight growing clearer, the Redwallers rushed to defend mat end of the summit, only to be hailed by
another distress cry. “Yurr, on ee t’uther end, they’m up ’ere too!”
Damug had not been slow. Even as the burning trunk was launched from the crest of the ridge, he had issued
orders for his army to split up again and attack the summit from both ends. Now the Redwall army was in deep
trouble. Damug’s plan had worked; he had gained the precious moments he needed to put his Rapscallions on the ridge
summit.
Tammo fought back-to-back with Pasque, sling in one paw, dirk in the other. Vermin came at them in mobs.
Lieutenant Mono was surrounded and alone; gallantly he battled away, hacking at the encroaching Rapscallions with a
cracked pike. Tammo and Pasque began forcing their way through to Mo-rio’s aid, but too late. The brave Lieutenant
went down, fighting to the last.
“Eulaliaaaa! ’S death on the wind! Eulaliaaaaa!”
Captain Twayblade, too, was ringed by the enemy. Her long rapier darted and flickered as she wove it around
cutlass and spear, slaying every vermin she touched. “Saha! Come an’ meet me, sir vermin, I’ll have ye crowdin’ at
Dark Forest gates this night!”
Tammo glimpsed a fox working his way behind Twayblade, and as the fox raised his sword, Tammo let fly with
the dirk.
“A hit!” Twayblade laughed. “Over here, Tamm, come on, Pasque!”
They were joined by Skipper, and between them they smashed free of the crowding foebeasts. The otter pushed
them toward the standing rock. “Over there, mates—get our backs agin somethin’!”
Perigord and Gurgan had been outnumbered and driven back along the ridge. Striving valiantly with what was left
of their group, they too managed to reach the standing rock. The Major’s saber decimated the ranks of vermin
swarming to get at them. Blood ran from a cut above his eye as he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Gurgan.
“Whew! I keep choppin”em down, but they’re still comin’!”
The Waterhog’s huge mallet hit the Rapmark Skaup, wiping him out. “Aye, there’s nought left but to take as many
as we can with us. Hearken though, I’d like t’get yon Damug atwixt my paws!”
Log-a-Log gritted his teeth, bringing down a weasel with his heavy loaded sling. “Y’won’t get close to that scum,
mate. Damug’s the kind who leads his army from be’ind, like the true coward he is! Tamm, did they get ye, bucko?”
Tammo almost collapsed as Pasque drew the pike from his leg. “Aaaagh! He got me, but I made sure I got him, the
blackguard!”
They ringed the pair, fighting off the attackers as Pasque stuffed herbs into the awful gash and bound it with the red
silken ribbon. “There, that’ll hold you, sir. Lean on me. I knew that ribbon’d come in useful. Good job you won it for
me, wot!”
Deodar and Algador slumped on the rift floor, gasping for breath after making their report.
Lady Cregga acted instantly. “Sergeant, take the right flank; Corporal, you take the left. I’ll hold the center. Let’s
get out of this ditch and form up in a skirmish line, ten deep, fifty long. Double-quick speed, weapons out and ready.
We’ll come at that ridge from the back. Rapscallions haven’t got the brains to think we’d attack that way!”
Still fighting for air, Algador and Deodar drew their blades. “We’re comin’ too, Sergeant!”
Trowbaggs nodded to Shangle Widepad. “Grab old Algy there, chum, we’ll help him along. Fallow, Reeve, lend a
paw to Deodar, there’s good chaps!”
The night air thrummed to the paws of five hundred Sala-mandastron hares. Silent and determined, they sped off
into the darkness.
Damug Warfang was delighted beyond measure. He stood back from the fighting, leaning on his sword by a fire.
The Rapscallions had suffered heavy losses, but nothing to what the creatures of Redwall had sustained. From his
position he viewed what he considered to be the last stages of the battle. His enemy would soon be soundly defeated
and the famous Abbey of Redwall his for the taking.
Rapscallions crowded in on every side around the standing rock, but there was a space at the center between them
and their opponents. The Redwallers had fought more fiercely than anybeasts they had ever encountered, and now, at
this final part of the battle, many vermin were growing cautious, not wanting to be on the lists of the slain while their
comrades enjoyed the spoils of victory.
The stoat Captain, Bluggach, was a bigger and more reckless beast than his confederates. Pike in one paw and a
wicked steel hook in the other, he swaggered into the open space between the armies and began taunting his