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Scarum hopped nimbly to one side, all agog. Oh, splendid show, chaps, hot honeyed oatmeal. Let me give you a lift with that, my good moletypes.

Nothin’ like a spot o’ the old honeyed oatmeal t’keep me handsome, wot!

Triss looked at the huge cauldron of steaming food. So did Skipper, Shogg, Kroova and Sagax. They exchanged grins.

Scarum had a ladlefull. He blew on it and tasted a little. Huh, dunno what you chaps are laughin’ at, this stuff’s jolly hot an’ pretty heavy I can tell you.

Triss and Sagax were now conferring with Foremole Urrm and his crew, leaning over the battlements and pointing out toward the vermin and their fire on the flat-lands. There was lots of whispering and nodding.

Urrm and his moles seemed to find the entire conversation hilarious.

Still trying to cope with his ladle of hot oatmeal, Scarum flapped his ears to cool it and muttered indignantly, Nothin’ funny about a chap tryin’ to have brekkers, wot?

Triss wiped the smile from her face. Of course not, Scarum. Listen, why don’t you take your oatmeal around to the east wall. Organise the sentries there. You said that the vermin may be trying to draw attention away from our rear. If there is anything going on over there, there’s nobeast we’d like better than you to take command.

Any idea of being a commander appealed to the hare. Throwing Triss an elaborate salute, he swaggered off around the ramparts, leaving the steaming cauldron behind and bawling orders to the shrews on the east wall. Attention there, you sloppy lot! Chins in, chests out, shoulders back! Steady in the ranks! First one who moves is on a fizzer! Officer comin’ over, prepare to salute!

Plugg Firetail stood with his back to the fire, enjoying its warmth in the misty dawn. The crew of the Seascab went about their tasks as they listened to him outlining his scheme. He was in high good humour.

Haharr, who needs Princess Pinky-eyes aner lackeys, eh? We’ll show em

‘ow Freebooters gets the job done. While they’re skulkin’ round in the woodlands, I’ll ‘ave us inside yon Abbey in time fer afternoon tea an’

some liddle cakes!

The crew roared with laughter. Their captain had never failed them when it came to plunder and the taking of booty.

Prince Bladd was with them. He giggled excitedly. You be der sly old fox, Captain. Vot is der plan?

Plugg threw a paw about the Pure Ferret, leaning on him like a crutch.

Listen now, mate, an’ I’ll tell ye. Those creatures on the wall will be watchin’ this’ere fire. That’s wot I wants’em to do, see. But they won’t see old Slitfang and Grubbage and some others. They’ll range out in two big’alf-circles an’ sneak up through the grass to the Abbey gates.

With them they’ll be carryin’ dry brush, some veg-gible oil an’ ship’s tar, an’ a smoulderin’ cob o’ tow rope. I’ll stay back’ere by the fire with a few mateys. We’ll distract those sillybeasts’ attention. Then Slitty an’ the rest’ll build the brush up agin the gates, douse it wi’

tar an’ oil, blow on the smoulderin’ tow’til it flames, an’ goodbye Abbey gates. Hahahaharr.

The fat Prince performed a little dance of delight. Diss is gutt, yarr!

Captain, I go vit dem, I make a gutt Freebooter. Let me carry der rope, I’ll set fire to de gates. I like playink mitt fire.

Plugg tweaked the fat Prince’s nose fondly. Right y’are, matey, we’ll make a Freebooter of ye!

Er, er, Cap’n, will ye move away from the fire, sir?

Plugg growled distractedly at Grubbage, who was behind him. Wot’ve you been told about interruptin’ yore cap’n?

Grubbage shrugged. I dunno about a tin cup for flap-pin’, but yore tail’s just fell off with the heat!

Plugg rasped out of the side of his mouth, Scummy, stick it back on, quick! Now then, Grubbage me ole darlin’, come round’ere where I can see ye!

The deaf steersrat knew what was coming. Plugg forced him to bend over by placing the flat of his battle-axe on Grubbage’s neck, then winked at Bladd. Let’s see ye land’im a good kick, me ole royal mate.

Bladd obliged willingly. Grubbage staggered a pace or two, then turned with a grin to his captain.

Bless’im, Cap’n, but’e’s got some kickin’ t’do afore’e’s as good a booter as you!

From the battlements, Churk’s keen eyes watched the activity around the fire. Without taking her eyes from the scene, the ottermaid called out, Is that oatmeal still’ot, Triss?

The squirrelmaid did not bother testing it. Aye, there’s still a bubble or two popping on it, and you can feel the heat from this iron cauldron a good pawlength away. Anything going on up there, Churk?

Looks like they’re startin’ to make their move.

Foremole popped up alongside Churk, squinting hard. Burr, oi doant see nuthin’ excep’ sum vermints a-dancin’ round ee flames, marm.

Triss came up to watch as Churk pointed them out. They’re fannin’ out two ways an’ circlin’ in toward our gates. See, there they go now, layin’

low an’ crawlin’ through the grass an’ heather.

Triss followed the direction of Churk’s paw. Ah, I see them now. Hey, Shogg, Prince Bladd fatbelly is with them, though I don’t see Kurda or any Ratguards.

Shogg was helping Skipper and Kroova place the carrying poles through the cauldron handle. Let’s take care o’ this lot first, Trissy, then we’ll worry about the others. You still keepin’ watch down there, Father Abbot? Tell us when the time’s right.

Abbot Apodemus was down behind the main gates with Malbun and Crikulus, peering through a gap by a lower hinge. I see them now, friend, but they’ve still got a way to come. We’ll let you know when they arrive.

Plugg and about six others were dancing a hornpipe around the fire, singing aloud:

Ho plunder, by thunder!

Ain’t nothin’ nice as plunder.

An’ booty, me beauty,

An’ loads o’ loot to boot!

There’s treasure, fine treasure!

Ye can count it at yore leisure.

All those not slayed an’ thrown in graves, We’ll trade ‘em off as slaves!

Freebooters, we’re looters!

Slingstone an’ arrow shooters.

They sigh now, an’ cry now,

O mercy, woe is me!

Wid cutlass, an’ spears,

We’ll carve off tails an’ ears,

An’ wid full sacks upon our backs,

We deals out blows an’ whacks!

The silver fox got so carried away at one point that he pulled off his tail and whirled it above his head.

Slitfang’s ugly head showed over the ditchbank. He stared up at the seemingly empty walltop. Come on, buckoes, over ye go!

The Abbot saw Bladd scramble out onto the path, grinning wickedly as he blew on the smouldering rope end. Sagax looked down. Crikulus was standing on the lower wallsteps and waving wildly as he nodded his head.

Skipper, Churk, Kroova and Shogg mounted the battlements as Foremole and his crew shouldered the poles, lifting the hot cauldron of honeyed oatmeal off the ground. Leaning over, Triss could see the Freebooters scurrying in pairs across the path, carrying dried brush, oil and tar.

The four sturdy otters at her side leaned down and grabbed the poles, heaving the cauldron off the moles, then straightened up, lifting the cauldron above the walltops.

Crouching down close to the gate, the searat called Ripper splashed vegetable oil on the timbers. He started with shock as a cry rang out from behind a lower hinge.