Rawnblade pointed a stern paw to the topmast. "Up, Woodsorrel, up!"

Tarquin spat on his paws but made a last-ditch plea to a pa.s.sing gull. "I say, birdie old bean, just furl a jolly old sail or two as you're pa.s.sin', there's a good chap."

The sea gull flew heedlessly on. Rawnblade stood with his hefty paw still pointed into the rigging. "Up!"

Tarquin nervously scaled the mast, calling out to the sea gull, who had decided to hover overhead and view the performance.

"Yah rotten ol' featherbag, bet your mum was a cuckoo. Oh golly, if Hon Rosie could see me now she'd split her fur laughin'."

318.

34.

At that precise moment Hon Rosie had never been more serious in her life. She stood in a small wooded area, just out of sight of the searat camp. With her were Clary, Thyme, Rufe Brush, Oak Tom and the pretty squirrel Treerose. The hares were armed to the teeth- lances, bows, arrows and a dagger apiece. Clary was talking to the squirrels.

"Now you know the drill, chaps. As soon as I shout out t' you then you come runnin', get the slaves away pretty darn quick an' head north, take a loop south an' straight back to the Abbey. I've left that big otter chappie Flagg a note-he'll know what t' do. Don't forget now-whatever happens, keep the bally slaves goin' full speed an' get 'em back to Redwall posthaste, wot!"

Rufe Brush clapped Clary on the back. "Got it. Keep the slaves goin' till we're safe back home, right? But what about you three?"

Thyme tested his bowstring. "Don't worry about us, laddie buck. We'll be right as rain, won't we, Rosie?"

"What, oh er, rather! Get the little thingummies back to the wotsit and leave the rest to us. Tickety-boo an' all that!"

Clary glanced at the noon sky. "Time to go, troops!"

Rufe, Tom and Treerose shook paws with the three 319.

hares. Clary sent them off. "Get round the back of the camp an' wait for my signal."

"Righto. Goodbye an' good luck, Thyme."

"Toodle-pip, old scout. Chin up."

Treerose waved. "Goodbye, Rosie. See you back at the Abbey."

Rosie nodded. "'Course you will, pretty one. On your way now,"

When the squirrels had gone, Colonel Clary inspected his patrol.

"Very smart, top marks, good turnout, wot!"

Thyme brushed his moustache one last time. "No excuse for sloppiness, my old pa always said."

They nocked shafts onto their bowstrings and strode off toward the searat camp, talking softly to each other.

"Make me proud of you now, troops."

"Goes without sayin', Clary. We'll give Rawnblade somethin' to talk about while we're at it, wot!"

"I say, Clary. Is it all right if I laugh 'n' hoot a bit once the show gets under way?"

"Permission granted, Rosie old gel. You chuckle as much as y'like."

The searats were milling about the fires, shoving and pushing as they tried to get cooking s.p.a.ce. There had been no fish or meat taken, as a result of Oak Tom's activities in the area. However, they had found a good supply of wild pears and apples, and plentiful dandelion roots. Now they cooked the fruits, telling each other that there would be good hunting tomorrow when the birds and fish returned.

The oarslaves sat miserably in their long wooden cage. It was exceptionally strong, being made from thick green branches lashed together with rope. The young creatures gazed longingly out at their captors, knowing the only food they would receive was the waste and sc.r.a.ps after the rats had glutted themselves.

Pakatugg pushed his face against the wooden bars.

320.

He had grown thin and gaunt in captivity, suffering the kicks and curses of searats. He bitterly regretted tracking the Darkqueen in quest of plunder. Now he sat staring through his prison at the woodlands beyond, thinking of his secret den far away, the cool green light from the shading trees, the mossy rocks and trickling stream . . .

Quite suddenly Pakatugg saw the three hares of the long patrol! They were striding grim-faced through the searat camp, making for the captives in the cage, fully armed with lance and dagger, each with a shaft drawn tautly on a longbow. The squirrel watched them silently, his eyes wide with disbelief. The hares ignored the noisy crew of searats as they marched purposefully forward.

The rat called Fleawirt was first to see them as he turned from the fire. "Hey! Where d'yer think yer go - "

Wordlessly Thyme turned and slew him, the heavy oak arrow knocking the startled searat back fully three paces. Pandemonium broke out. Before the rats could grasp what was going on, another two fell, pierced by shafts from Clary and Rosie. As swiftly as they loosed the arrows, the long patrol had fresh ones stretched upon their bowstrings.

"Get them!" Greypatch bellowed, drawing his sword. "Don't just stand there, kill 'em!"

Shaking the numbness of surprise from him, one called Sh.o.r.eclaw plucked his spear from the ground and raised it. He was so close that Clary's arrow pa.s.sed through him and wounded another standing behind. Rosie dodged a spear as the trio quickened their pace. She sent her arrow zinging into the snarling face of Kybo, cutting off the scream that issued from his mouth. Now the hares sent out the blood-chilling war cry of Salamandastron; it rang out above the clamor.

"Eulaliaaaaaaa!!!"

They arrived at the cage, still sending arrows from 321.

the formidable longbows thudding into the horde of advancing foe rats.

Pakatugg shoved his paw through the bars. "Give me a dagger and I'll cut the ropes!"

Clary tossed him a freshly sharpened knife from Redwall's kitchen. "What ho, you old villain! Chop away at the back of the cage, would you."

A spear took Thyme in the right footpaw. Gritting his teeth, he wrenched it out and hurled it back, wounding its thrower. "Ah well, no more runnin' for me today, wot?"

Rosie stopped a charging rat with her lancepoint. "Hate to remind you, old thing, but we didn't come here to run."

Clary whacked out fiercely, breaking a leg with the heavy yew bow. "Famous last stand, wot? Go out in a blaze of glory an' all that. Right, chaps. Another quick volley, an' give 'em a shout t' let 'em know we've arrived. Fire!"

Three arrows flew from the longbows into the seething rat pack.

"Eulaliaaaa!!!"

Pakatugg slashed frenziedly at the remaining rope lashings in the back of the cage. The bindings parted and a section of the woodwork fell away. The oarslaves huddled dumbly in a group. He pushed through them, tugging at the back of Clary's belt through the front bars.

"I've done it, part of the back's fallen down!"

Colonel Clary winced as an arrow took him in the shoulder. "Wait'11 the squirrels arrive, old thing, then follow 'em. Take all the slaves an' stick close to them, no matter what."

Clary threw back his head and yelled, "Rufe, Tom, Treerose! Now now now!"

Thyme was kneeling. Wounded in both footpaws, he bravely held his bow horizontally, firing as rapidly as his dwindling quiver of arrows permitted. Glancing 322.

back, he saw the three Redwall squirrels herding the timid oarslaves out through the broken cage into the woodlands. Rosie was throttling a struggling rat on her bowstring as Clary held off the mob with a lance held in each paw.

"Mission accomplished, eh, Rosie old scout!"

"Rather! Whoohahahahahooh!"

Standing at the back of the crew, Graypatch ran around belaboring with the flat of his sword as he roared hoa.r.s.ely, "Get into 'em! Come on, yer sluggards, rush 'em!"

Frink took aim and skillfully threw a long dagger. "Got 'im! I've wounded the big 'un in the ribs!"

The grin of triumph froze on his face as an oak arrow found him.

Thyme tugged at Clary's leg. "Out of arrows, old sport. Get me up on me pins an' give me a lance!"

Pakatugg a.s.sisted in getting Thyme upright. Clary glared at him.

"Where did you come from, mister? You were supposed to escape with the rest. I won't stand for insubordination, y'know!"

Armed with a searat cutla.s.s and spear, the squirrel growled dangerously. "I'm stoppin' here, see. Don't like searats-dirty vermin beat me an' made sport o' me. n.o.beast does that to Pakatugg. I'll teach 'em!"

Rosie flinched as a sword caught her high on the cheek. "Good for you, Paka, y'nasty old rogue, give 'em vinegar!"

Flinging their empty quivers and longbows into the faces of the rats, the long patrol brandished daggers and lances. Charging forward, they carried the battle straight into the ranks of the enemy, with Clary calling out aloud, "Nice day for it, wot!"

Thyme staggered forward. "Summer's my fav'rite season, old lad!"

Hon Rosie clapped Pakatugg on the back. "Let's give 323.

'em one last shout, for Salamandastron an' the jolly old Abbey."

"Eulaliaaaa! Redwaaaaaaall!"

Accompanied by an old squirrel, the long patrol threw themselves into the howling mob of searats.

Not just Flagg, but every creature in Redwall Abbey stood out upon the north ramparts, scanning the path in the pale moonlight for signs of movement. Mellus and Flagg were armed with longbows; lanterns flickered all along the walltop in the hushed silence. Simeon the blind herbalist stood with the Abbot and the Dibbuns, their bedtime forgotten in the tense, waiting atmosphere. Simeon's voice was barely above a whisper, but it could be heard by many as he addressed the Abbot.

"What's happening out there, Bernard?" "Nothing, old friend. It's very quiet and still down there."

"Hurr, be they a-c.u.mmen yet, maister Simmen?" Simeon patted Grubb's velvety head. "Only if you're very good and stay quiet, little mole." "Oi be vurry soilint naow. Hussshhher!" "Whatever possessed them to go on such an insane venture?" Mellus murmured to Flagg. "Six of ours against all that rotten horde. And to think it was I who urged Colonel Clary to rescue the slaves in the first place."

Flagg shook his head. "No, marm, it weren't you. Clary had it in his mind to do the deed anyway. He left me a scroll tellin' all. I burned it in the kitchen stove as he wished me to. So don't blame yerself, marm. They were sworn to fight searats from birth; it was their destiny."

Minutes stretched into hours as the Redwallers waited, straining their eyes along the north path, sometimes expectant at a sign of movement, only to have their 324.

hopes dashed by the realization that it was merely a shadow as clouds scudded across the moon, or the rustle of breeze-stirred foliage.

The Dibbuns had finally fallen asleep. Sister Sage covered them with blankets from the gatehouse as they lay huddled together in the northwest corner of the walltop.

Saxtus and Sister Serena carried a caldron of leek and celery broth from the kitchens, followed by Friar Alder and c.o.c.kleburr, laden with wheat farls.

Gabriel Quill stared toward the eastern horizon over the treetops of Mossflower. "Be dawn in two hour, I reckons."

Foremole was slurping soup rather noisily from a wooden bowl when Simeon placed a restraining paw on him. "Hush, I think I can sense something."

The Abbot held up his paws for silence all around. "What is it, Simeon?"

The blind mouse leaned out across the battlements, his whiskers quivering slightly. "Metal, I thought I could hear metal . . . Yes, there it is! Any signs on the path?"

"None whatsoever."

"Sssh, there it is again, over there on the woodland edge-metal. Wait . . . it's chains, I can hear chains!"

Saxtus sprang up between the battlements with a whoop. "Hurrah! It's them, I can see Rufe Brush leading the slaves out of Mossflower onto the path. Hi, Rufe!"

Flagg acted speedily. "Marm, put an arrow to your bow and stand beside me here. We'll keep them covered. Saxtus, Foremole, Gabe, you'll find spears down by the main gate. Take twenty with you and escort them back in. Keep your wits about you an' your eyes open. Hurry now, they may be followed by searats!"

Without further event the last eleven slaves made it into the safety of Redwall Abbey. As the chains were 325.

being cut from their wasted limbs, the Abbot questioned the three squirrels who had taken part in the rescue. Treerose and Oak Tom were crying; even the normally tough Rufe Brush broke down and wept bitterly as they related what they had seen at the magnificent last stand of the long patrol.

"They didn't stand a chance, yet they came through the center of that searat camp laughing and joking. They were completely surrounded!"

Oak Tom was pale, his voice low and trembling. "I never thought that was what they meant to do, but it was the only thing they could have done to free the slaves. What makes it all so strange is that they knew what would happen, how it must end!"

Treerose accepted a spotted handkerchief from Fore-mole. "Oh, they were so brave! Rosie smiled at me and said she'd see me back here. Oh, Father Abbot, why did they do it?"

Abbot Bernard shook his head gently. "Who knows, child, who knows? Certainly none of us at Redwall. We are infants in the ways of war. Colonel Clary and his hares were complete warriors. Their seasons were numbered from birth-they knew this was the day their fates were sealed."

Saxtus hung his head. "Yet they knew they were helping Redwall and bringing liberty to the slaves, so they went to meet their destinies smiling and joking. I was wrong about the hares and I'll always remember that when I make judgments about other creatures."

Simeon and the Abbot went back to lock the main gates before turning in. Dawnlight was beginning to flush the skies.

"Triumph and tragedy in the one night, old friend." The Abbot kicked away a stone which was hindering the closing gate. "Right, Simeon . . . Hey, you two, come in here. Right now!" Bagg and Runn came strolling through the gateway 326.

in their nightshirts. Abbot Bernard wagged a stern paw at them.

"You two rascals should be fast asleep in bed. What are you doing out here on the path, may I ask?"

Bagg rubbed his eyes sleepily. "Wavin' g'bye to Flagg an' Mum Mell's."

Throwing the gate back open, the Abbot hurried out onto the path. "Flagg and Mother Mellus? I can't see them. Are you telling whoppers?"

Two heads shook vigorously.

"No, Father Habbit, sir. Honestly!"