Holding her wounded side, Vilaya rolled rapidly over, seizing the bag from Gliv. Casting aside any pretence to daintiness, she wolfed the remainder down. "Go and find me some water. I'm thirsty."
The stoat sneered. "Feelin' better, are we? Ye'll soon be up an' about. I thought you was gonna die for a while back there."
Vilaya stood up, leaning against a sycamore. "No time for dying. I've got a score to settle!"
Gliv grinned coldly. "Huh, so have we both!"
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Seeing his friends with their backs to the west wallgate, illuminated by the shafts of firelight, Skipper roared out the order. "Open the gates! Everybeast to the entrance! Quick!"
The main entrance was pulled open in a trice. Ducking down, Buckler, Bartij, Jango and the Guosim crew retreated hurriedly inside. The defenders hurled a salvo of javelins, rocks and slingstones at the advancing Ravagers. Temporarily blinded by the sudden burst of light from the bonfire in the open gateway, the vermin were taken by surprise. They scattered both ways along the path, seeking to avoid the onslaught of missiles, some slipping backward into the ditch.
Zwilt lashed about him with the flat of his broadsword, yelling hoarsely, "Forward! Forward! Keep going, can't you see the gates are open? Forward! Chaaaaarge!"
Something struck his blade like a thunderbolt. It flew out of his grasp, over the ditch, onto the flatland. Zwilt the Shade was strong--he was also fast and agile. However, the tall sable was not about to face the hefty hammer-wielding mole who had disarmed him so savagely.
Knowing instantly that the attempt had failed, Zwilt leapt the ditch in a single bound, calling out, "Retreat! Back, Ravagers, back! Retreat!"
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Blinded by the firelight and assailed by slingstones from the gateway and walltops, the vermin were only too ready to obey their commander. They fled westward to where the sessile oak trunk lay abandoned outside their camp.
Now that Zwilt had regained his blade, the need for secrecy and concealment was over. He squatted down by the fire his vermin were building. The weasel Fallug, whom he had promoted to captain, knelt alongside him, nursing a swollen jaw--a stone had hit him.
"Wot next, Lord? Do we still use the batterin' ram?"
The tall sable blinked as he stared at the fire. "As soon as it's ready. We'll charge those gates and smash them, in daylight if we have to. There'll be no mistake a second time, I swear it!"
Abbess Marjoram came to the main outer gate. Skirting the fire, she sought out the defenders, congratulating them. "Thank you, friends. 'Twas a brave thing you did here."
Granvy wiped his face with a clump of dewy grass. "Good idea that fire, eh, Jango?"
The Guosim Log a Log crouched down by a gatepost. "A masterstroke, I'll grant ye. Though if'n ye hadn't got the gates open when ye did, we'd have been slaughtered out there. Sniffy, how many did we lose?"
The Tracker wiped smoke from his bleary gaze. "Two slain, four wounded, Chief. I was goin' to check south down the path, but that berserk mole's still out there. Nothin'll stop that un--Axtel will smash anybeast wot stands in his path!"
Buckler put up his long rapier. "That's how Bloodwrath works, mate. We'll just have to hope he comes to his senses. Marm, stop, where are ye goin'?"
The Abbess had walked out onto the path. "Stay where you are, everybeast. I'll deal with this."
Jango started after her, but Sister Fumbril drew him back. "Marjoram knows what she's about, sir, trust me!"
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Skipper nodded. "Do as the Sister says, matey, an' trust our Mother Abbess. That goes for all of ye. Now, how about dampin' this blaze down. We could be sittin' targets stannin' in the firelight!"
The blaze was subdued with a bit of effort. Some of the embers were pushed into the open ditch, some scattered to the inside wall, the rest were damped down with water from the Abbey pond. Dawn was streaking the sky when Abbess Marjoram passed through the gateway, ordering Foremole Darbee and Cellarmole Gurjee to close and lock the doors. Axtel was limping alongside her. She was giving him advice on his wounded footpaw.
"I'm sure that Sister Fumbril can treat your injury. She's very skilful at such things. I guarantee you'll be walking normally by the season's end, running, too. Oh, Bartij, would you take Axtel's hammer? The poor beast shouldn't have to limp about carrying that great heavy thing. It's not doing him a bit of good."
Buckler watched in amazement as Axtel Sturnclaw, the berserk warrior, meekly surrendered his weapon to Bartij.
"Hurr aye, mum, ee war'ammer do gets gurtly weight-ful at toimes. Hoo urr, but et bee's a wunnerful vermint stopper, even tho' oi says et moiself, mum!"
Buckler shook his head. "Well, I've seen everything now!"
Bartij winked. "Yore at Redwall Abbey now, young mate--you h'ain't seen nothin' yet!"
Friar Soogum bustled up with two kitchen helpers in tow. "Er, Abbess, marm, where do I serve brekkist today?"
Marjoram was never at a loss when it came to prompt decisions, unlike the hesitant Friar. She rattled off instructions, including everybeast. "Serve it up on the west ramparts to those who'll be keeping an eye on our foes---Mister Buckler, Skipper, Bartij, Log a Log Jango and his Guosim. Redwallers and Dibbuns will eat in Great Hall. I think it would be wise for those not engaged in defence of the
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Abbey to stay off the walltops until any threat of attack has gone. Sister Fumbril, Axtel and myself will dine in the Infirmary. Foremole, would you and your molecrew dine in the gatehouse with Granvy, just in case you're needed?"
Darbee tugged his snout respectfully. "Ut'd be moi pleasure, mum!"
Marjoram patted Soogum's paw fondly. "That's your problem solved, old friend. Now, is there anything else, please?"
Buckler had a request. "Marm, could you have the good Friar serve an extra portion on the walltop? Make it a big helping."
The Abbess nodded. "I'm sure our Friar could arrange that, but what do you require another breakfast for?"
One of the young hare's ears drooped thoughtfully. "Just an idea, really. It's been my experience that whenever fine vittles are served, Diggs is usually somewhere about. Oh, I'm not worried about the tubby glutton, wherever he is. But I'd be easier in my mind if he were here where I could keep an eye on him."
Marjoram smiled. "Oh, I think we can manage that, Buck."
Buckler made a quick, elegant bow. "Thankee, marm. An' I apologise for not bringin' the little uns safe back to Redwall. As soon as this Ravager matter's settled, I vow I won't rest 'til the babes are all inside these walls an' peace is restored."
The Abbess nodded. "I'm sure you speak truly, my friend."
Out on the flatlands, work was progressing on the battering ram. Zwilt had supervised his vermin in the making of the weapon. One end of the sessile oak trunk had been hacked into a blunt point and burned several times in the fire. This had the effect of sharpening and hardening the ramming end. Fallug and his crew had returned to the woodlands. Now they were hauling in heaps of
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thick green-leafed boughs. Zwilt outlined their use to his captain.
"I want a frame built, a canopy to go over the ram. The carriers underneath it will be protected from anything those Redwallers heap down upon them. Now, we'll have two shifts of ram carriers, one relieving the other to keep the attack going full pelt. I want archers and sling throwers constantly on the go. That'll keep the woodlanders' heads down below the walltops."
Fallug grinned crookedly. "Aye, Lord, an' 'twill 'elp our ram beasts from bein' attacked!"
The weasel was pleasantly surprised when Zwilt patted his shoulder heartily. Something resembling a smile stole across the inscrutable sable's features.
"You're a beast I can trust, Fallug. Tell me, how do you like being a captain, eh?"
Fallug puffed out his narrow chest. "I'm enjoyin' it, Sire. Ye can rely on me--I'll do me best for ye, Lord, on me word, I will!"