Torleep was slinging the bags onto a spear shaft when a strange noise cut the still noon air. Stiffener whirled around to face Brog. "What was that?"
The otter yanked his friend to one side just in time. A slingstone buzzed by like an angry hornet. Doomeye's Hordebeasts came charging out of the eastern moorland, howling and yelling, firing slingstones and discharging arrows at the Bark Crew.
Torleep dashed to the cliff edge and glanced over. "I say, there's more coming up this way!" He never had time to say more. An arrow thudded into his throat. Torleep tottered for an instant, then fell over the cliff.
Brogalaw gathered the Bark Crew swiftly. "Take a stand facin' for'ard an' aft, mates. Grab yore bows!"
Stiffener stood back to back with the sea otter, battling the vermin who were scrambling over the clifftop, while Brogalaw faced the crowd charging them from the moorland.
"'Tis a trap, Stiff. They got us surrounded!"
The boxing hare whirled his sling, knocking a rat back over the cliff. "There's a lot of 'em, but we ain't surrounded yet, Brog. They've got us in a pincer move from back'n'front. Keep pickin' off the outsidersstop 'em circlin' us!"
The otter alongside Brog went down with a spear through him.
Doomeye's contingent had slowed their headlong rush and were advancing cautiously now. They tried to stay in a tight bunch, nobeast wanting to be strung out on the edges, where they would be picked off. Ripfang had his group halfway over the clifftop before he saw how furiously the Bark Crew were retaliating. Dropping back below the rim, he called out orders.
"Keep yore 'eads down. We'll snipe 'em t'bits. Pick yore targetsthere's only a score an' a half of 'em!"
Stiffener took out a weasel, with a spear that had just missed him a moment ago. Still back to back with Brog, he outlined a plan that was forming in his mind. "I'd say we're outnumbered five to one, mate. We'll have t'make a break for it, sideways!"
An arrow hit Brog in the shoulder. He bit his lip and snapped off the shaft. "I'm with you, mate. Best go north, away from the location of our cave. Do it soon, afore we lose any more beasts!"
Stiffener could feel the arrowhead that had pierced Brog scratching his back. Willip was down on all fours, blood flowing from a gash on her head. The weasel and his forage party were lying flat on the ground, paws covering their heads, unarmed and out of the action.
Brog grabbed the weasel and hauled him roughly up. "Up on yore scringin' paws, you bluebottoms, an' form two lines, a spear length apart. Move or I'll kill ye!"
Whimpering and trying to evade missiles, the vermin were forced to obey. Brog ordered his Bark Crew into the space between the two lines. "Keep goin' north, then strike east the moment y'see some trees, mates. We got a livin' shield to take us out o' here. If'n these bluebottoms try to slow up or break away, you got my permission to slay 'em. Quick march!"
Confused by the sight of two lines of hostages from their own side, the vermin ceased fire, and the Bark Crew moved smartly off while they had the advantage. Ripfang hauled himself over the clifftops, yelling, "Don't lerrem get away, fools, kill that Bark Crew!"
Doomeye came running up at the head of his vermin group. "Oh, 'ard luck, Rip. They fooled us that time, eh?"
Ripfang punched his brother in the eye. "That was you, puddlebrain, y'never waited for the signal!"
One of Doomeye's patrol, a ferret, stepped forward. "Yew shouldn't 'ave punched 'im. Yore brother stepped on a thistle an' yelped out loud. We all thought it was the signal, so we charged. 'Twasn't 'is fault!"
Ripfang punched the ferret square on the nose. "Who asked yew, slugface? I'm givin' orders 'round 'ere! Now get after 'em, the lot of yer, an' slay the Bark Crew!"
The ferret wiped blood from his nose and glared at it. Then he lashed out, cracking Ripfang between the ears with his spear haft.
"Yew ain't a cap'n anymore. Trunn broke youse two back down t'the ranks, an' besides, we'd 'ave to kill our own mates to get at the Bark Crew. I ain't doin' that!"
Ripfang rubbed his head, grinning ruefully. "Yore right, mate, yew ain't doin' that. Yore stayin' 'ere." Quick as light he drew his cutlass and ran the ferret through, then waved the dripping blade in an arc. "Anybeast else want to stay 'ere? Come on, who wants t'join 'im? Step up an' face me!"
They backed off, staring dumbly at the slain ferret. Suddenly, Ripfang was among them, laying about savagely with the flat of his blade. "After 'em, all of yer! I don't care who y'bring down as long as yer finish the Bark Crew off!"
With Ripfang in the rear, cutlass drawn, they took off after the enemy, who had a good head start.
Stiffener cast a glance over his shoulder as he ran. "Didn't take 'em long, Brog. 'Ere they come!"
The sea otter Skipper peered anxiously ahead. "No sign of any trees yet, Stiff. Sailears, how's Willip doin'?"
"Still groggy, I'm afraid. An' there's a young otter here, Fergun, who's taken a javelin through the footpaw. Slowin' us down a bit, but that can't be helped, wot?"
Stiffener called Trobee and two otters, Urvo and Radd. "Fetch double quivers an' bows. We'll hold the rear, mates!"
"Don't let them catch up," one of the forage party sobbed. "They'll kill us just t'get at youse!"
Brog clouted his head soundly. "Shut yore mouth or I'll boot ye over the cliff!"
Stiffener and his three archers let the others go on ahead. Stringing shafts to their bows, they brought down two Hordebeasts who were running ahead of the rest. After another volley they joined their friends. Trobee kept another shaft ready on his bowstring and walked facing back. "I think we took out seven vermin back at the clifftops. Countin' the two we just dropped, that makes nine. Not bad considerin' we lost only three, two otters an' old Torleep."
Stiffener turned to join him. "Nine don't make a lot o' difference to the crowd they've got, Trobee. We're in big trouble unless we get some 'elp." He raised his voice, calling to the front of the column. "Any sign o' shelter ahead, trees, rocks, or whatever?"
"Not a thing, matey," an otter's voice replied. "All I can see is a big dead ole tree near the cliff edge up yonder, sorry!"
Brog's voice joined in the shouted conversation. "Ahoy, did ye say a big dead tree? I know that 'unused to fish up this way. If'n I ain't mistaken there's a whole circle o' rocks on the shore down there, above the tideline. Cut off an' take a peek, Sailears."
Sailears left the group and bounded to the cliff edge. She was back shortly with good news. "Brog old chap, you were right. A ring of rocks, not unlike a blinkin' small fort. Oh, well done, sah!"
Stiffener and his archers dropped back and fired off another two volleys of arrows. This time the vermin saw them coming and avoided them. Brog waved the archers to join the column. "Never mind that now, mateys. Let's get down to those rocks!"
At the rear of the vermin, Doomeye was holding a pawful of wet sand to the eye which his brother had punched. Ripfang watched him and shook his head in despair. "All's that'll get yer is an eyeful o' wet sand, yer ninny."
Doomeye spat contemptuously at him. "Think yew know everythin', don'tcher, yew rotten slime, punchin' me in the eye like that. Well, I ain't yer brother no more, see. I 'ope one of those arrers out of the air gets yew, right in yore eye. Then y'll see 'ow it feels!"
"Look, they're climbin' down the cliffs t'the shore!" somebeast shouted ahead.
Ripfang ran to the cliff edge and peered along. "Tryin' t'make it to those rocks, eh? Well, we've got 'em now we can easily surround those rocks. Slow down an' catch yore breath, mates, they ain't goin' nowhere!"
It was hot on the rocks. The sand at the center of the stone circle was dry and hot, too. The Bark Crew threw themselves down gratefully, shedding cloaks and masks. Sailears tended to the injured, while Brogalaw and Skipper watched the clifftops.