Martin The Warrior Part 22

With a series of wild whoops the squirrels sprang off into the trees, leaving the camp at peace once more. Martin stood listening to them as they shrieked and shouted off into the gathering night.

"The Gawtrybe, eh. I don't like that crowd one little bit. We'd best post a sentry tonight. I'll take first watch. Grumm, will you take second? You can use my sword."

The mole brandished his trusty ladle fearlessly. "Burr, this be all oi'll need furr they rarscally beasters!"

Rose placed damp wood on the fire to burn slowly 220.

through the night. She sat with her back against a pine and settled to rest. "Martin, did you notice how they stopped when I mentioned Boldred? I know they joked and clowned a bit, but they're obviously scared of her. I wonder who Boldred is and where we can find her."

Martin shouldered the small sword, his keen eyes questing around the night-cloaked woodland. "Your guess is as good as mine, Rose. I don't think we've seen the last of the Gawtrybe, though."

However, the night pa.s.sed uneventfully for the four travellers, the wooded foothills remaining calm and peaceful. The following morning was presided over by a hot blue cloudless sky, promising even greater heat as the day progressed. They breakfasted sparingly on cold water and some of Grumm's invention cakes before setting off to scale the mountain.

Three hours after dawn, they left the forest, entering a country of sloping shale scree carpeted with shrub, fern and lupin. As they toiled upwards in the oppressive breezeless warmth, Martin gritted his teeth. Jibes and insults were coming at them from all around, though they saw no squirrels.

"Heehee, I'll tell the Warden on you!"

"Bad-mannered hooligans, camp wreckers!"

"Heehee, still no sign of Boldred!"

"Please, Boldred, save us from the Gawtrybe, heehee!"

Pallum clapped a paw to his ear. "Yowch! They're chucking pebbles at me!"

A small stone clacked off Martin's swordblade. He kept his eyes straight ahead, speaking in a voice strained by temper. "Ignore them, the stupid vermin!"

"Ignore them, the stupid vermin, heeheehee!" a voice echoed back at him.

The young mouse was about to pick up a pebble and hurl it back in the direction of the voice when Rose halted. She muttered urgently to him out of the side of her mouth, "Look up ahead!"

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The way was blocked by about fifty Gawtrybe squirrels. One, larger than the rest and obviously some kind of chieftain, stood forward. He scuffed the ground with his paw and pouted like a naughty infant as he spoke. "This is Gawtrybe land. You've got to pay to pa.s.s through."

Martin eyed him levelly. "We have only some food for ourselves, nothing of any value. I am Martin the Warrior, this is Rose, Pallum and Grumm. Let us pa.s.s. We will be off your land by nightfall."

The squirrel leader did a mincing little dance, holding his paws together imploringly as he mocked, "Let us pa.s.s, please. Let us pa.s.s!"

Martin noticed that more squirrels had come up behind them, cutting off any chance of retreat. The leader squirrel had more feathers in his tailbrush than any of the others. He arched the bushy tail skillfully towards Martin.

"I am called Wakk, leader of the Gawtrybe. Give me your sword and I'll let you pa.s.s."

The young mouse's eyes were cold as he answered, "n.o.beast takes this sword from me!"

Wakk puffed out his chest and made his tail stand straight. "Then I will fight you for it!"

Martin curled his lip derisively. "Oh, you'll fight, my friend, backed up by all your bunch, I suppose."

Wakk did not sneer or joke. He held up both paws to show he was not armed. "No no, we two will fight together, just me and you. None of my bunch will interfere. Give your sword to the mousemaid, and let's see how good you are without a weapon."

Instantly, the squirrels formed a large ring. As Martin pa.s.sed the sword to Rose he had his back turned to Wakk.

"Look out, Martin!" Pallum shouted.

He thrust the sword into Rose's paws and whirled around to see Wakk hurtling through the air at him, teeth bared and claws outspread.

222.

26.

Trapped!

The word ran back like wildfire along the creatures packed into the escape tunnel, and panic took over in the dark airless place.

"We're all going to die down here. Help!" "Ooh, I knew we should never have tried to escape!" "I can't breathe. Let me out of here!" "At least we were alive in the stockade!" "It's that Brome's fault, the stupid young fool!" Something within Keyla snapped. Suddenly the young otter was crus.h.i.+ng and pus.h.i.+ng, las.h.i.+ng out as he climbed over heads, squeezing and sc.r.a.ping past other creatures, bas.h.i.+ng out with all paws and his rud-derlike tail as he battled towards Brome at the blocked exit.

"Gerrout of my way! I never came down here to suffocate an' die. Let me by, you stupid snivellin' moaners!" Bulling and pus.h.i.+ng, kicking and shoving, the resourceful otter strove on through the packed airless tunnel until he felt Brome's corsair rags in his paws. "Brome, what's the matter. Why can't we get out?"

His face touching Keyla's, Brome yelled in the darkness, "We were nearly out, I'm sure of it, but the exit's caved in!"

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The otter pushed him backwards into the press of wailing slaves. "Get out of my way and give me s.p.a.ce. I'll get us out of here!" With a surge of strength born of desperation, Keyla threw himself at the blockage, all four paws going like windmills. Despite the screams and cries of outrage from behind, he tore, bit, gouged, kicked, dug and flailed at the sandy earth as it sprayed around him in gouts and showers. His shouts could be heard throughout the tunnel as he flung his body forward.

"Eeyaahhh! What d'ycm want? Somebeast to dig? I'll show you how Keyla digs! Like this! And this! Wahoooooooooo!" The otter's nose fountained blood as it struck a large rock. Keyla wrapped his whole body around it and yanked, grunting and squeezing past the rock, he savaged the loose earth, sc.r.a.ping, biting and thudding until his head burst through into the hole on the sh.o.r.e between the rocks. Wriggling out, Keyla spat earth, and wiped his mouth out with a paw. Chuckling quietly, he shook with delight.

"Haha, just shows what you can do when you feel like it!"

Brome leapt from the tunnel, casting aside his disguise and hugging Keyla tightly at the same time. "Keyla, you rogue, you did it, you got us free!"

Then it was Brome's turn to act sensibly. As he helped the first slaves out of the hole he issued instructions to Keyla.

"We were trapped down there quite a while. Time was lost, and it's not long until dawn. I'm going to run to the camp and get Felldoh with some others to help. I'll bring them back as quickly as I can. You must follow my pawprints, and move everybeast along as fast as you possibly can. Once the fortress is roused, Badrang will have his horde out after our blood!"

Dawn was crimsoning the grey from the sky as the ebb tide lapped gently on the sh.o.r.e. It was Bluehide's favorite time of day. He had catnapped most of the night 224.

through his sentry watch on the walltop of Marshank. Now he stretched gratefully in antic.i.p.ation of breakfast and a sleep until noon. Shortly his relief arrived, another ferret called Stumptooth.

Bluehide pa.s.sed the sentry spear over happily. "It's goin' t' be a scorcher of a day, mate. You'll sweat up 'ere."

Stumptooth took the proffered spear and leaned heavily on it. "Aye, yer right there, Blue'ide. Tain't fair, is it, me stannin' up 'ere on guard all day while those bone-idle slaves lie round the compound scratchin' their-selves."

"Hoho, don't you fret yer 'ead about the slaves, Stumpy." Bluehide began climbing down a wall ladder. "They're all down the prison pit. 'Alf of 'em will be dead afore the day's through!"

Stumptooth was pus.h.i.+ng past Bluehide on the ladder. "Slaves in the prison pit? I never seen any an' I looks down there every mornin' when I pa.s.ses!"

Bluehide landed on Stumptooth's head. They b.u.mbled down the ladder to fall in a heap at the bottom. Scrambling on all fours, they both raced to the pit. Bluehide's jaw went slack in dismay.

"But, but, they was there last night," he began explaining. "I saw 'em go down with me own eyes. It was two of our horde put 'em down there ..."

Stumptooth was not listening. He was das.h.i.+ng for the longhouse, screaming, "Escape! Escape! The slaves 'ave escaped!"

Badrang came thundering out, tripped over Gurrad's body, picked himself swiftly up and kicked the carca.s.s bad-temperedly. "Slaves escaped? How many? Where?"

"From the prison pit, Lord!"

"Prison pit, who put 'em down there?"

"I don't know, Sire. Blue'ide was on duty las-"

But Badrang was not listening, he was das.h.i.+ng about the courtyard yelling, "Hisk! Fleabane! Get the horde together. Now!"

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Half-asleep weasels, ferrets and rats stumbled out, pulling their clothes on as they trailed weapons behind them. Badrang was in a towering fury. He lashed out with the flat of his sword.

"You half-baked, s...o...b..rfaced slugs! Move! There still might be time to catch those slaves. Stir your stumps, you useless blatherbrained beasts. Filling your stomachs and resting your heads is about all you lot are good for!"

Hisk and Fleabane scuttled about, echoing their master's threats and insults, not quite sure of what they were supposed to do.

The Tyrant returned to Gurrad's carca.s.s. Obviously Clogg had forestalled the a.s.sa.s.sination attempt. He would get rid of the body before Clogg saw it and started gloating. Grabbing a pa.s.sing rat, Badrang snarled, "You, Nipwort, bring that thing and follow me."

Nipwort struggled along behind Badrang, dragging the limp figure as he tried to keep up.

With a frenzied burst of energy, the Tyrant stoat dragged the grating from the pit. Lying flat, he thrust his head in and could not fail to see the escape hole. "Here, Nipwort. Leave the body there and climb into this pit. See that hole in the side of the wall? Get yourself in there and see how far it goes. Report back to me when you find out where the exit is."

Before going to attend his horde, Badrang watched the unhappy Nipwort climb into the escape tunnel. When the rat was lost to view, Badrang pushed Gurrad's body into the pit and replaced the grating with a swift heave.

Tramun Clogg had been up and about before Badrang that day, anxious to know the result of his murderous plan. When Gruzzle and Boggs reported the rinding of Oilback's body, Clogg knew the scheme had failed. Hastily they disposed of the poisoned rat, tossing him into the sea. Clogg had his crew stand by fully armed lest 226.

Badrang should come seeking revenge for the attempt on his life.

Crosstooth the fox took a swift glance toward Marsh-ank's open gates. "Stand by, Cap'n. 'Ere comes Badrang with trouble aplenty!"

Tramun stood prepared as the Tyrant and his horde pounded out across the sh.o.r.e. However, his keen ears caught the drift of what Hisk and Fleabane were shouting.

"Double quick, you lot. Come on there, Lord Badrang wants every last one o' those slaves back!"

"Aye, if you don't catch those escapers you'll find yourselves doing their work. So move!"

Clogg sheathed his cutla.s.s, chewing thoughtfully on a beard plait as an idea formed in his sly fertile mind. "Ho buckoes, put up yer weapons an' foller me!"

With a look of concern on his villainous face, the corsair ran towards Badrang, calling out aloud, "Ahoy, matey. Wot's the trouble?"

The Tyrant stoat halted, glaring suspiciously at Clogg. "Didn't you know? The rest of the slaves escaped during the night!"

Horror and indignation stamped themselves on the corsair's features. "Why, the rotten bunch o' scallawags! I'll never get me new s.h.i.+p built now. Badrang, matey, let's call a truce between us until we catch 'em. Which way d'you reckon they went?"

Badrang could not waste time bandying words with his old adversary. He realized he would need all the help he could get to recapture the slaves. "They've probably headed south and to the cliffs. That's the way we're going."

Clogg stroked the braids on his chin thoughtfully. "Aharr, maybe that's wot they wants you to think, mate. Maybe they went north to fool ye. I'll take my crew that way."

Before Badrang could reply, Clogg had hauled out his cutla.s.s and was running north along the sh.o.r.e with 227.

his corsairs. "Come on, you flotsam. If ye ever want to feel a deck neath yer paws agin, you'll 'ave to find them sc.u.mmy slaves!"

Badrang led his horde off to the south at a lively run.

Nipwort emerged from the escape tunnel. Dusting himself down, he climbed on to the rocky outcrop to get his bearings. The tracks were clear. Shading his eyes against the morning sun, Nipwort scanned the sh.o.r.eline. He saw the unmistakable form of a group in the distance. They were hurrying towards the cliffs. Turning round, the rat could see Badrang and the horde running in his general direction. Jumping up and down, he waved frantically.

"Over here, Lord! I can see them!"

Ballaw, Rowanoak, Buckler and Felldoh, in company with ten or more of the most able-bodied free slaves, jogged along the clifftop behind Brome. Felldoh looked grim as he muttered to the hare, "What a reckless little fool Brome is. He could have been captured at Marshank or smothered in that tunnel!"

Ballaw hefted his lance lightly. "Matter of opinion, old lad. If you fail you're a bally fool, if you win you're a jolly hero!"

Rowanoak puffed along behind them, towing the cart. "Ballaw's right. I'd say if he pulls this off he's a reckless hero; who would have thought it, young Brome!"

Brome stopped. Pointing down to the sh.o.r.e he yelled proudly, "There they are!"

Felldoh's eyes roved further afield. "Aye, and look who's following on the double!"

Rowanoak gave a great groan of dismay. "There's far too many of them for us. Our only hope is to get those poor creatures on to the clifftop up here before the horde gets to them. Come on, let's give it a try!"

Stout vine ropes were anch.o.r.ed to rocks and thrown over the steep cliff slope. Ballaw roared to the slaves, 228.

projecting his voice magnificently, "I say, you chaps. Over here!"

Felldoh and some others s.h.i.+nned hurriedly down the ropes on to the sh.o.r.e, and ran to help the stragglers. Buckler threw his paws about an old mousewife, glancing back at the pursuers. "They be comen on apace. Oi doant think us'ns ull make et!"

Badrang's paws slapped hard on the strand as he put on a great burst of speed, calling to his horde, "Come on, we've got 'em!"

Old Geum grasped the rope. Gazing upwards, she pursed her lips. "I'll never be able to haul myself up there. What d'you think I am, a young squirrel?"

"I don't know about a young squirrel, Mother, but you'll be a dead mouse if you hang about here!"

Felldoh threw Geum across his shoulder with a single heave and began hauling himself up the rope.

Buckler and six others launched a salvo of short javelins directly at the horde. Four of Badrang's creatures fell. The rest parted ranks, spreading themselves to avoid being hit. All of the escapers were now on the ropes, scrambling up the steep cliff face, fear of their pursuers and the scent of freedom lending speed to their paws. Felldoh had delivered Geum and hopped back down without using the ropes. Now he was on his way back up with two small young ones clinging to his tail. Buckler and the others were backed up hard to the cliffside as the horde advanced on them. Two had been brought down by spears from Badrang's creatures. Rowanoak looked worriedly down as she called to them, "Get on the ropes! Come up here!"

Brome and those on the clifftop began hurling javelins and slingstones to cover their friends' retreat.

Badrang dashed forward as Buckler began scrambling up the rope. He picked up a fallen javelin and hurled it.

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The mole cried out in agony as it took him through the shoulder.