Jumping from the wall he made for the wallstairs, only to be stopped by Brother Melilot. "I know 'tis hard for a warrior to resist a challenge, Janglur, but only a fool rushes into an ambush. You'd be slain as soon as you stepped outside our gates. Let Skipper do the talking."
Rusvul Reguba patted Janglur's back. "He's right, mate."
Skipper called out to Gelltor, "Sorry, mate, you can't 'ave ole Janglur. We need 'im at Redwall, to slay any more Marlfoxes who come callin'. So wot now?"
Gelltor pointed dramatically, letting his paw sweep the walls. "So now you must all die as a penalty for the death of a Marlfox!"
As Gelltor let his paw fall there was a brief pause, followed by a loud whirring noise. Skipper flung himself down onto the parapet. "Lay low, 'tis archers!"
A flight of arrows, like angry wasps, buzzed viciously over from all points, most of their shafts thudding into the lawn inside the Abbey walls. Gelltor waved his ax aloft. "Now 'tis war. Your Abbey is surrounded, and we will stay here for as long as it takes to slay you all or make you surrender!"
Skipper reappeared on the wall, holding an arrow. The otter Chieftain's face was a fearsome sight to see. He snapped the arrow contemptuously, tossing the pieces down onto the path. "Hearken, fox, you want war? Then by the thunder you'll get it! Redwallers are peace-lovin' creatures, until they're attacked. Start diggin' yore graves now, 'cos we ain't goin' t'dig 'em for ye!"
Bargle detailed his Guosim back to their wallguard, then followed Skipper and the others down to the gatehouse. Rimrose and Ellayo were waiting for them.
"Did they mention our daughter or her friends?" Song's mother inquired anxiously.
The lazy-lidded eyes smiled comfortingly at her. "No, me pretty one, course they didn't. They don't even know Song an' 'er pals are away from the Abbey, or they would've used 'em to try an' draw us out, ain't that right, Skip?"
"Correct, mate. Those young 'uns 'ave got the sense not to get theirselves captured. They know wot they're doin'."
Rusvul went out. Sitting on the wallsteps, he buried his head into his paws. Ellayo came and sat by him. "No good frettin', Rusvul Reguba, you can't do nothin' about yore son now. We're stuck in 'ere for better or worse, surrounded."
The squirrel warrior wiped a paw across his eyes. "'Twas me drove Dann to it. D'you think he'll ever forgive me for the things I said to 'im?"
Ellayo took Rusvul's paw and squeezed it. "Course he will. Dann's a good young creature, like our Song, he ain't stubborn an' unmovin' like his father. But it takes all kinds, friend, and wot we're goin' to need in the days that lie ahead are warriors, stubborn unmovin' warriors, like yoreself!"
For the first time since the battle at the southwest corner, Rusvul smiled. He stood up and bowed courteously to the old squirrel. "I thank ye for those kind words, marm. When there's fightin' to be done an' warriors need to stand firm, you'll find me the most stubborn an' unmovin' of all. 'Tis just the way I am."
Because of the danger from further volleys of arrows, Skipper requested that anybeast not on wallguard stay inside the Abbey. Florian decided that the time need not be wasted. If the Red wallers were to defend themselves from outside attack they needed drill and weapon training. Knowing nothing whatsoever about either matter, the hare made it all up as he went along. Armed with a motley selection of ladles, window poles, brooms and any domestic item that came to paw, elders and Dibbuns were lined up in Great Hall, together with the Noonvale troupe, and Florian swaggered about in what he imagined was true parade-ground manner.
"Right ho, troops, let's see if we can't knock you into shape, wot! Form y'selves up in four ranks here. Jump to it now!"
Brother Melilot and Diggum Cellarmole were edging away when the hare challenged them. "I say, you two chaps, where d'you think you're jolly well off to? Back in line this very instant!"
Melilot put down the feather duster he had been shouldering. "Excuse us, but you'll have to let us go, that's if you want dinner tonight. We're on kitchen duty."
Florian waved them away hastily. "Oh, right you are. Can't have starvin' troops, wot, wot?"
Sister Sloey and Gurrbowl grounded dustpan and window pole.
"Sorry, 'fraid we've got to tend t'the wounded in the Infirmary."
Florian blew a sigh of frustration. "Off y'pop then, you two, excused drill. You there, Dwopple, I said form four blinkin' ranks, not five. Come up front here, sir, where I can keep my beady eye on you!"
Saluting furiously, the mousebabe charged up front, dragging behind him a long-handled oven paddle, which cracked against footpaws and tripped all who came in contact with it, causing widespread chaos.
"Yowch! Go easy with that paddle, you wretch!"
"Oof! An' you watch that ladle, near put me eye out!"
"Aagh! Me footpaw! Get away, y'villain!"
Florian grabbed the paddle and tried to wrestle it away from the mousebabe, who was quite proud of his weapon and not prepared to give it up without a struggle. As he fought for possession of the paddle, the hare kept shouting orders.
"Steady in the ranks there! Stan' up straight, you chaps, pick up those weapons! No squabblin' at the back, that's an order! Where'n the name o' seasons are you three goin', eh?"
"Hurr, us'n's got to set ee tables furr vittles, zurr!"
"Oh, quite. Gimme that paddle before you lay every-beast low, you fiend!"
"You lerra paddle go, mista Florey. It mine!"
"Mutiny is it? I'll have ye locked up in the vegetable cupboard!"
"Mister Florian, how can you shout so heartlessly at a tender babe after all he's been through? Fie an' shame on you, sir!"
"Deesum marm, don't interfere or you'll be locked up with the blighter. Stand fast there, you lot, I haven't told you to move!"
"Dormitory duty. Beds won't make themselves, y'know!"
"Dishwashing. Brother Melilot needs clean pots'n' pans!"
"Ale an' cordials to be brought up from the wine cellar."
"Candles and lamps need attendin' before evenin'."
Dropping their makeshift weapons, Redwallers scurried off, left, right and center. Florian managed to drag the paddle from Dwopple, who threw himself on the floor, kicking all four paws and howling inconsolably at the loss of his beloved weapon.
"Wahaaaah! Rotten ole rabbit pincha Dwopple's paggle. Wahaahaahaa!"
Deesum picked him up, comforting Dwopple and castigating Florian in the same breath. "There there now, my little soldier, did the cruel rabbit steal your paddle, nasty wicked beast!"
"Madam! Cruel, nasty an' jolly well wicked I may be, but I am a hare, marm, not a rabbit!"
"Indeed, sir? Well, you show all the sense of a rabbit, a two-day-old one. You are not fit to command that paddle you have stolen!"
Florian sat down dispiritedly upon the floorstones, staring about at the empty hall. "Huh! Bloomin' paddle's about all I've got left to command, wot!"
Evening shades were stealing over the western horizon, scarlet sunrays reflecting off the undersides of heavy dark clouds drifting eastward. Skipper ducked low as he led a party of Red wallers along the ramparts. Meeting Bargle, the otter beckoned at the group he was heading. "Evenin', mate. Brought the rest o' yore Guosim an' some Redwallers to relieve the sentries. Wot's 'appenin' out there?"
Bargle took a quick final glance over the parapet. "Oh, nothin' much. They're shootin' off the odd arrow t'keep our heads down, but apart from that 'tis fairly quiet. Wot's for vittles?"
Skipper grinned at the tough little shrew, whose stomach was growling thunderously. "Sorry I never sent any tucker out to ye, but I couldn't chance no pore kitchenbeast gettin' hit by an arrer. Don't worry though, messmate, there's food aplenty for you an' yore shrews: leek'n'celery soup, tater'n'mushroom turnover, sweet cider an' plum duff."
Bargle grimaced longingly as he tightened his belt another notch to quiet his rumbling gut. "Did I 'ear you mention plum duff, mate?"