Friar Butty inspected the ugly gashes that had slashed through Cregga's paws when she had been grabbing sword and spearblades. He dabbed at them with a cloth that he was dipping in a water pail. "Be still now, marm, please. You'll have to stay here in the gatehouse awhile yet. There's no question of moving you, I'm afraid."
Nutwing spread a curtain across the mousebabe Dwopple, who was still snoring in the armchair. "Hmm mm. Been given lots of motherwort and a smidgen of valerian, I suspect. He'll probably sleep a good while. Mm, nasty! It looks like our badger has lost an ear."
Friar Butty took a peek, drawing in his breath sharply. "Great seasons, so she has, and will you look at this broken arrowhead sunk into her shoulder near the neck? Gracious me, Cregga marm, didn't it hurt you at the time?"
Spread out on the couch the huge badger snorted wearily. "I never felt a thing. In the old days, when I could see, they called me Cregga Rose Eyes, you know. My rage was so great in battle that nothing could stop me. I was possessed by a thing called the Bloodwrath, like most badger Warriors."
The Friar shook his head worriedly. "I'll have to go up to the Abbey. 'Twill take Sister Sloey's herb satchel, sewing twine and clean dressings to patch you up right. Now stay there and don't move!"
Nutwing ambled out of the gatehouse, muttering as he went. "I'll go, hmm, mm, I can still flap these stiff old wings a bit. You stay here, Butty, in case anybeast of ours comes knocking on the gate. I won't be long!"
The old owl hopped and flapped, sometimes touching the ground, other times with the grasstops brushing his talons. Faintly upon the night air he could hear the sounds of conflict from over the outer wall at the southwest corner. Surprised to find the main Abbey door half open, he shuffled in, blinking his eyes against the lantern and candle lights, and walked straight into the backs of Dakkle and Beelu. Still blinking, he called out, "Hmm mm, who's there? Is that Melilot?"
"Nutwing! Look out! Get away!"
At the sound of the owl's voice Song had looked up. She saw the four vermin in plain view, creeping toward them. Ascrod grabbed Nutwing. Using the flapping owl as a shield, he and his cohorts rushed the three young guards.
Song was dashing toward the Marlfoxes, her greenstone stick raised. Dann and Dippler seized their spears and charged after her. Dippler's helmet fell over his eyes, and the monstrous halberd he was lugging slipped sideways. Both he and Dann tripped on the shaft and went sprawling on the floor. Song was almost upon the Marlfoxes, her eyes glinting with the light of battle. Ascrod swung his double-headed ax, slaying Nutwing with a single blow. He pushed the owl's still flapping body at Song, bringing her down. The young squirrel's scream of horror was cut short as the ax handle cracked down on her head. Vannan and the two rats were upon Dann and Dippler before they could rise. Vannan's ax crashed down on the young shrew's helmet, leaving a long dent in it. Dann struggled to get up, but both rats jumped on him, cracking his head back hard upon the floorstones.
Ascrod sped across to the tapestry and began pulling it from the wall. A hubbub came from somewhere below, and the Marlfoxes heard the sounds of Redwallers on the wine cellar stairs. Vannan glanced about at the three fallen friends. "What about these? Shall I finish 'em off?"
Ascrod had pulled a chair across to the tapestry so he could reach the top hooks that held it to the wall. He snarled at his sister. "Idiot, what concern are they to us? This is the most valuable thing we've come on in many a season. Help me with it. Beelu, get outside and open the small east wallgate. Dakkle, lend a paw over here. Move, you fools, those Abbeybeasts will be on our heels in a moment. Hurry!"
At the southwest corner the fortunes of war had changed. Mokkan fought his way back through his own ranks until he was close to the ditch. It was the Guosim shrews who had saved the day. Charging wildly in at the rear of their foes' left flank, they swept all before them. As the enemy turned to intercept the Guosim attack, Skipper, Janglur and Rusvul led a push away from the wall into the ranks of the water rats. Mokkan was shouting now, realizing he had lost. "Retreat! Get across the ditch onto the flatlands! Retreat!"
Rusvul went down with a spear in his side, but Janglur stood over him, swinging his loaded sling. Rusvul was half up when he cried out, "Behind yer, mate, quick!"
Janglur spun like lightning, his whirling sling wrapping itself around the handle of the killing ax that the vixen Ziral was swinging at his head. He pulled sharply, dragging the short double-headed ax from her paws. Quick as a flash, the warrior squirrel caught the ax and swung at Ziral with all his might. That single blow finished the battle completely. The water rats who saw the beheaded Ziral lying on the path set up a wailing scream.
"A Marlfox is slain! A Marlfox is slaaaaaaiiiiinnn!"
In the blink of an eye the remaining Marlfoxes and water rats had abandoned the fight, leaping over the ditch and dashing headlong across the flatlands. Florian Dugglewoof Wilffachop waved his garden rake and started after the routed enemy, haranguing loudly. "Villains! Fiends! Pollywogglin' babe-snatchers! You shall feel our wrath, we will pursue you to the very cracks of doom! Come on, you chaps. Chaaaaaarge!"
Skipper grabbed Florian's frock-coat tails and hauled him back. "Leave it, matey, they still outnumber us two t'one. Let 'em go. We got our own to tend back 'ere."
Victory over the foebeast had been won, but at a terrible price. The Noonvale otter Borrakul sat wounded, cradling Elachim's head in his lap, repeating over and over, "My brother won't wake up. Wake up, Elachim, please!"
Runktipp took the slain otter gently from his grieving brother. "He ain't goin' t'wake up, friend Borrakul. Leave 'im t'me."
Janglur hauled Rusvul upright and supported him. "You all right, cully? That's a spear you got growin' out o' yore side!"
Rusvul gasped and winced as Janglur removed the weapon. "Never went in too deep. I'll live, mate. But that's more'n I can say for some who weren't so lucky!"
Skipper stooped over Tragglo Spearback, patting the Cellarhog's face and talking gently to him. "Tragg, come on, ole lad, don't go sleepin' there. We'll get y'back 'ome to a nice soft bed. Wake up now."
The old hedgehog's eyes fluttered open and he smiled weakly. "Slingshot. Must o' been a bit o' metal. It's still stuck in my 'ead."
A heart-piercing cry came from out on the open ground to the south.
"Logalogalogalogalog! Our Chieftain's doooooown!"
Florian, who was helping Runktipp to carry Elachim's body, looked around at the sound of the voice. "Wot'n the name o' seasons is that?"
The Guosim shrew Mayon strode up, ashen-faced. "'Tis the Guosim death cry. Log a Log is slain. Bargle found 'im."
Surprisingly enough it was Florian who restored order and got things moving. "Now there's been terrible battle done here this night, y'know, chaps, but we must attend the livin' first. Right, pick up the wounded an' let's get 'em inside the Abbey. When that's taken jolly good care of I'll organize a party to return for our fallen comrades. Come on now, please, can't sit about here weepin' all night, wot?"
Skipper shouldered Tragglo Spearback, regardless of his spikes. "Mister Florian's right, mates. Come on, let's git inside. There'll be elders an' young 'uns waitin' t'hear whether we won or not."
Emerging from the cloud shadow, a pale moon cast its soft radiance over the dusty path at Redwall's southwest corner, where so much had been won and lost that night.
Chapter 13
Song felt a cool damp cloth bathing her brow as Grandma Ellayo soothed away at the red-hot hammers of pain pounding inside her temples. From somewhere above she could hear her mother's worried voice calling her back to consciousness.