Chapter Nine

Arami chewed absent-mindedly on a stick, contemplating the battle ahead. She had been in a few fights before, as several scars proved, but never one so large. She didn't notice Skipper until he sat down next to her.

"Acorn for your thoughts." He said, quietly.

Arami shrugged. "Just wondering what's going to happen to us."

Skipper nodded, and looked out to where the vermin army sat, just out of bow range.

Arami continued to stare out at Mossflower. "I mean; can we really win this war?" She continued quietly. "And what happens when you die?"

"Well, I think I can answer that one. You go beyond the Dark Gates into the Dark Forest."

"I know everyone says that but . . ." Arami halted, and instinctively grabbed her bow with her left paw. "It's sunrise."

*~*

Wil'eye swiped at his brother lazily. "Get lost, Fang. 'S too early."

Fang'orn poured a jug half full of grog over Wil'eye, who sat up with a start. "Cummon, lazy, we dun wanna be late fer our meetin' do we?"

"Wot meetin'?"

Fang'orn sighed. "Wid der abbey youse idiot!"

Wil'eye shook a paw at Fang'orn. "Aw, wotev'r. Wake me up when we win."

"Yore the one that wonts m'cloak. Suits me fine if'n we just go back."

"Wot!" Wil'eye jumped up again. "An' let beasts say we ran 'way from a battle? Nora chance."

Fang'orn rolled his eyes. "Just get ready t'fight, yer dimwit."

Wil'eye grabbed his belt and strapping it on over the clothes he'd slept in, he was ready. Rearranging his sword he stalked away from the fire where he had been lying. "Stup'd brothers, an' their stup'd 'deas." He muttered. "Ne'er goin' wi' him 'gain."

"Whipslash!" Fang'orn yelled. Whipslash appeared by Fang'orn. "Get ever'beast ready ter fight."

Whipslash waited for Fang'orn to trot off after his brother before signing to his mate who sat by the fire. [Can you send the message round?]

"Of course." She said, rising.

*~*

As the vermin approached Redwall's gates again the aptly named "Suicide Squad" stood up to greet them.

"Well?"

"Well wot, vermin?" Skipper smiled, nonchalantly.

"Sword, or death. Yore choice."

"We'll ne'er give the sword to you and your scum." Arami growled.

"Fine, fine, yore funeral." Wil'eye and Fang'orn turned back, and Arami quickly drew the string of her bow back to her chin. She was aiming when a paw hit her on the side of the head, so that her arrow went wild, hitting a hoard beast in the chest. There was an unpleasant moment of silence before, as one beast, the vermin charged on the walls.

Which, while cinematic, was completely pointless. Arami signalled for the archers to draw back, and then, as the wave of vermin hit the great sandstone walls, fire a round of arrows into the ranks of the approaching vermin. As the first rank of archers reloaded the second rank shot, and as the second rank reloaded the first rank shot, creating a never ceasing rain of arrows to hail upon the hoard.

A little way further down the walls Alvin and Alfwine had arranged several ranks of sling shooters, who were doing the same, with just about as much deadly accuracy, and Skipper was in charge of the spears and javelins.

*~*

Wil'eye and Fang'orn sighed at the same time before setting about their hoard, forcing them into organised ranks, kicking the archers and slingers to the back. Wil'eye left Fang'orn to organise the beasts attacking the wall, and stalked along the lines of archers, shouting abuse when he caught them slacking. He jumped slightly when Fang'orn reappeared by his side.

"Shades, Fang . . ."

"Dis is poin'less, Eye. We need ta pull 'em back."

"Wot? But dat's like a retreat!"

"I know! But dere just gettin' killed, an' it ain't gettin' us nowheres."

*~*

Bran appeared next to Alvin on the wall. "They're retreating!" Alfwine exclaimed, signalling to the slingers to hold fire.

"I'll go and tell Skipper then, shall I?" The otter mumbled to himself, ducking back down and making his way along the wall.

"Skipper? Skipper?"

"'M 'ere, mate."

"They're retreating! What do we do?"

"Tell everybeast to . . . to 'old their fire. Let 'em go."

Bran nodded. Soon the message had passed across the wall, and the defenders of Redwall began to stand down. Skipper picked up a wounded otter and began to make his way across to the main abbey building. Before he finished the trip a cheer started on the walls, and was taken up, until even the beasts in the abbey were cheering. A stream of Redwallers that had been unable to fight made their way out of the abbey.

"Stop it. Stop it!" Someone cried above the noise. Skipper turned to stare at them with the rest of the beasts around him. Alvin and Alfwine were standing on the walls.

"Stop it! Why're ye cheerin'? They ain't gone forever, mates, only for now. They'll be back, ye kin bet m'rudder on it. An' 'ow many beast 'ave died today? 'Ow many will 'afore the end? So ye kin stop yer cheerin', and 'elp the wounded." Alfwine yelled at the assembled abbey beasts, who starred for a moment longer before starting to do as he said.

Tarrega went to the twins. "Well, that was an inspired speech, mates. Would 'ave speared on hundreds, that."

"Aw, shut up, Tarr." Alvin said, swiping at Tarrega.

"Ye couldn't do better."

Tarrega grinned, toothily. "Wanna bet?"

"Not really, no."

Tarrega, Alvin and Alfwine turned to face Arami and Skipper. Arami embraced the three of them before they had time to react.

"Arami, get off!" Alvin yelled, as he tried to wiggle out of her grasp.

"No. It's my job to be the over protective mother figure, as I'm the only girl in the SS." She laughed, before kissing him of the top of the head, and releasing him.

"Well, that went better than expected." Bran said, as he sauntered over to them and sat down.

"Ye kin say that again, matey." Tarrega smiled.

"Does anybeast know 'ow many are injured?" Skipper asked.

"Sorry, Skip." Tarrega answered.

Arami grimaced. "About three or four archers."

"Ondel." Alvin said.

"I think one or two Redwallers got hit." Bran offered.

Skipper nodded. "An' has anybeast been left on watch?" He looked at the other's faces. "Thought not."

"I'll go an' . . . and sort it out." Arami said, yawning in the middle of the sentence. "I'll get some food sent up too, shall I?"

In the rush of battle, the slap of a hand that ruined Arami's shot had been completely forgotten, except for my one beast. Bran smiled smugly to himself, as he set about checking the wounded, keeping up his Good Boy act.

*~*

In the vermin camp things were not going half as well. More than a score had died, and another thirty needed medical attention. Wil'eye paced up and down.

"I can' believe we jus' did that."

"Did wot?"

"Retreated, yer plank! Wot are we gonna do?"

"Well, first o'all, yer gonna calm down. Them beasts won a battle alrigh', but they sure ain't won the war. Sec'ndly, we're gonna send some beasts inter the woods, an' they're gonna chop down a couple o' trees, where they can't be seen."

"Wots the point o'that?"

"Battering ram. An' other stuff. . ."

"Oh, all right then. . . But it were yer idea, 'right?"

"Yeah, wote'er."