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 pushing past Bluehide on the ladder. "Slaves in the prison pit? I never seen any an' I looks down there every mornin'
when I passes!"
Bluehide landed on Stumptooth's head. They bumbled 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 dashing 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 carcass 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 dashing about the courtyard yelling, "Hisk! Fleabane! Get the horde together. Now!"
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, slobberfaced 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 carcass. Obviously Clogg had forestalled the assassination attempt. He would get rid of the body before Clogg saw it and started gloating. Grabbing a passing 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 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 shore. 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 cutlass, 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 ship 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 cutlass and was running north along the shore with his corsairs. "Come on, you flotsam. If ye ever want to feel a deck neath yer paws agin, you'll 'ave to find them scummy 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 shoreline. 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 shore 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 anchored to rocks and thrown over the steep cliff slope. Ballaw roared to the slaves, projecting his voice magnificently, "I say, you chaps. Over here!"
Felldoh and some others shinned hurriedly down the ropes on to the shore, 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!"