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ditch I think. Somebeast shoutin' charge. I think it must've been vermin."

Barbowla looked down into the deserted ditch below. "Well, whoever it was has gone now, Skip. Brownrats, d'ye think?"

The otter chieftain leaned over the battlements. "Mayhaps 'twas, though it might've been them vermin who Orkwil said were chasin' him an' the badger. As y'say mate, they've gone now, so we might never know. Good riddance t'them, says I."

Some of the wallguards stayed to discuss the curious incident, but the majority began trooping over to the south walltop to patrol their former positions. Orkwil was still on the west wall, where he had been joined by Maudie.

The haremaid suddenly twitched her long, keen ears. "I say, what's that bloomin' rumblin' noise?"

The young hedgehog jiggled a paw in his ear. "What noise, I can't hear anyth ..." His voice rose to an urgent bellow. "Here they come agin! Look!"

Everybeast hurried to the battlements, where they stood gaping in astonishment at the spectacle.

It was Vizka Longtooth and his twoscore vermin. This time they were the pursued, not the pursuers. Open-mouthed, wide-eyed, they were running for their very lives, with most of Gruntan Kurdly's horde thundering along in their wake. A cloud of dust rose from the dried-up ditchbed, as the entire mad stampede rumbled by, heading north at top speed. The onlookers' heads swivelled from left to right, following the mad procession as it shot by, in a welter of noise, dust and churned-up weeds and vegetation. Then it was gone, north up the ditch and into the distance.

Orkwil was dancing up and down with excitement, shouting at everybeast. "That was Vizka Longtooth an' some of his crew!"

Barbowla chuckled as he blinked after the vanishing

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dustcloud. "Aye, an' that was Kurdly's Brownrats after their blood. I wonder wot happened there?"

Foremole Burff was shaking with merriment. "Hurr-hurrhurr, who'd a-thought ee foebeasters wurrn't a-gettin' on together. Ho dearie oi!"

Abbot Daucus came skipping up the wallsteps, holding his robe like a mousewife with a trailing gown. "Will somebeast please let me in on the joke?" The Father Abbot's face lit up in a smile when he was told the news. Climbing onto a battlement, he peered northward, but both hunters and quarry were long gone. Daucus dusted off his paws. "Well well, what a lovely surprise, friends. I know this may not sound very charitable, but let me express the hope that the vermin wipe one another out, solving our problem once and for all."

Maudie helped the Abbot down from his perch. "Rather good, wot! I say, Father old thing, d'you think it'd be a jolly good idea to celebrate this cheerful moment, with something like a ... er, er, what's the confounded word I'm lookin' for?"

The Abbot provided it. "A feast?"

Maudie shook his paw heartily. "What a wise mouse you are, t'be sure!"

Rangval seconded the haremaid slyly. "Ah sure, we'd all be delighted to attend yore feast, sir, 'tis a grand ould beast y'are for askin' us!"

Laughingly, the Abbot shook his head. "Well, I walked right into that one, didn't I? A feast, eh, well, why not? Orkwil, go and tell Friar Chondrus to get preparations under way. Skipper, where d'you suggest we hold this affair, Great Hall, or Cavern Hole maybe?"

The otter chieftain was ever practical. "I'd say somewhere outside, Father. We don't want t'be caught nappin' if'n there's vermin still abroad."

Maudie came up with a bright idea. "Why not have it up here on the walltop? Southwest corner, in fact. The scoff could be laid on the wallsteps, with us guard types up

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here, an' other ranks, the oldsters an' young 'uns, down below on the lawn, by the jolly old pond, wot!"

"That's a great idea, then me'n you could have a little word t'gether, marm, about my sudden faintin' fit." The haremaid found herself staring into the angry eyes of the Guosim's new Log a Log, Osbil. Caught unawares, Maudie tried to woffle her way out of a quandary. "Wot, er, Osbil old lad, y'look remarkably chipper, wot! Well well, who'd have thought a stout chap like you would go into a faint, just like that, eh?"

Osbil's paw was on his rapier hilt as he replied. "Aye, just like that. Would ye like to try yore luck one more time, miz, then we'll see wot's faster, yore punch, or my blade-point?"

The smouldering resentment in Osbil's tone alerted Rangval, he stepped smartly between hare and shrew. "Ah now, don't be drawin' yore steel round here, bhoyo. Sure 'twas only to save ye bein' slaughtered by a rat horde that darlin' Maudie did wot she had to. Can ye not see that ye should be thankful to her?"

Now every eye was on Osbil and Maudie as they stood clear of the rogue squirrel. Keeping a watchful eye on the shrew's swordpaw, Maudie shrugged. "He's right, actually, I was only tryin' to save your life--"

Osbil interrupted her sharply. "Aye, an' shame me before all my Guosim, that's a great start for a new Log a Log. Tell me, would you be grateful to somebeast who knocked ye out with a trick punch, an' stopped ye avengin' the death of yore father by the vermin. Would ye?"

The full force of Osbil's predicament dawned upon Maudie; totally humbled, she bowed her head. "I did what I did with every good intention, but how can you forgive me? I wouldn't blame you for drawing your sword this instant, I acted like a thoughtless fool. If there is any way I can make up my stupid actions to you, just say the word, my friend."

Osbil, who had been expecting a challenge, was taken

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aback by Maudie's sincere apology He stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do. The situation was saved by Abbot Daucus, who joined the paws of them both.

"I think it was very big of Miz Maudie to apologize like that. If you could realise this, and forget your anger, maybe these Guosim may see that their Log a Log has the qualities of a good chieftain. Well, what do you say?"

Osbil gripped Maudie's paw. "Thanks for savin' my life, friend!"

The haremaid shook Osbil's paw in return. "Aye, an' thanks for sparin' my life, friend. We'll pay Kurdly's lot back tenfold before this business is done, believe me. Luglug wasn't only your dad, he was a fine leader, an' a good pal of mine. Remember, just say the jolly old word an' I'm with you 'til the end, sah!"

Rangval parted their paws, with an expression of comic concern on his face. "Ah sure, 'twas all well said an' grand, but can't we have a bit of an ould feast afore ye go chargin' off to pay back the Brownrats?"

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25

Gruntan Kurdly was not built for speed. He stayed back in his position at the woodland fringe, facing the south Abbey wall. A dozen litter bearers, and the two scouts, Noggo and Biklo, were with him. The rest of the horde, led by Stringle, had gone off to chase the Sea Raiders. Gruntan lounged on the mossy sward, relishing a substantial clutch of partridge eggs, which the scouts had found in some long grass, not far from the ditchside. He swigged nettle beer from a small pail, wolfing down the hard-boiled eggs as fast as his lackeys could peel them. Wiping a grimy paw across his mouth, Gruntan belched happily. "By the 'ells teeth, I do like a good patteridge egg, more tasty than woodpigeons, eh, Laggle?"

The old female rat, who acted as his healer and physician, commented caustically, "I'll tell ye if'n I ever gits the chance to taste one. Sometimes I thinks yore goin' to grow feathers, ye eat so many eggs!"

Gruntan slung a pawful of crushed eggshells at Laggle. "Yew mind yore mouth, granny, go an' do summat useful, fetch me more beer. Noggo, cummere an' talk to me, tell me more about that raggedy bottomed bunch."

The scout had already told Gruntan all he knew, several

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times, but he was obliged to recount it all again. "There wuz about twoscore of 'em, Boss. After our lot run 'em off, me'n Biklo took a look at wot they'd been up to. The main bunch had started diggin' an 'ole in the side o' the ditch, facin' Redwall."

Gruntan probed his snaggle teeth with a hooked claw, spitting out eggshell fragments. "Wot d'ye reckon they was up to?"