High Rhulain

Threetooth, who had been nursing his chewed ear with both paws, sullenly raised one. “S’up, Chief.”

The gangleader nodded. “Dat’s good, ’cos I’m gunna need yew.” ’

Frogeye knew that he was waiting for somebeast to ask, so he obliged. “Are yer gunna tell us de plan, Chief?”

Groffgut dropped his tone dramatically. “Der’s seven of us, right? Lissen, we sneaks up to dat wall, an’ four of us, me’n Frogeye’n’Rashback, an’ Plugtail, lets Obbler an’ Fleddy climb up an’ stand on our shoulders. Next, the climber gets up onto Obbler’n’Fleddy’s ’eads. It’s easy den. All the climber does is slings my sword up onna rope an’ catch der top o’ that wall, pull hisself over an’ open dat big door to lerrus all in. Good plan, eh mates?”

Threetooth began protesting as he backed off down the ditch. “Y’mean I’ve gorra be de climber? I’m no good at climberin’, I swear I ain’t, Chief!”

Groffgut shoved Rashback and Frogeye forward. “Grab’im!” They seized the unfortunate Threetooth firmly.

Groffgut spat on his rusty blade, eyeing his victim. “I told yer, if’n ye ain’t for me, yer agin me. So, where d’ye want it, eh? In the gut, across yer throat or in yer lousy ’eart, ’old ’im tight, mates!”

Threetooth babbled like a brook in flood. “I don’t wanna get kil’t, I’ll climb, don’t slay me, Chief! I’ll climb der wall for ye!”

Groffgut thrust his face close to Threetooth. “Ho yer’ll climb right enuff, or I’ll skin yer alive afore I kills yer. Plug, where’s dat rope we tied de h’ eagle up wid? Knot it round me sword ’andle, will ye.”

All the gang members were young rats, Obbler and Fleddy the two youngest. The latter was becoming quite taken with the idea of burgling Redwall Abbey, but he had a question to ask of his leader first.

“Ye said der was all sortsa good stuff in dat place, Chief. Wot sorta good stuff?”

Groffgut saw this as an opportunity to fire his gang to great efforts. Unfortunately, he was not good at speech making. “Er, lotsa good stuff! Everythink’s in der, mates.”

Young Fleddy pressed him further. “Y’mean good stuff like nice vikkles, Chief?”

The gang leader nodded sagely. “Aye, more’n yew could eat, loads more!”

Obbler picked his teeth with a grimy claw. “Huh, I ’ope der’s more’n Fleddy kin eat, ’cos I wanna fill me belly, too. I likes h’ apple pie, ’cos I ’ad a bit once, an’ it tasted nice!”

Groffgut clapped him heartily on the back. “Don’t fret yer’ead, mate. They got enuff h’apple pies fer all of us!”

A moment later, Groffgut was sorry that he had spoken. It seemed that the rest of the gang were fond of pies, though each had his own individual favourite.

“An’ strawb’rry pies, too, Chief?”

“My ole granny used ter bake tater pies, wid onions in ’em. D’yer think dey’ll ’ave tater pies like me ole granny’s?”

“Blackberry pies is bestest, big fat juicy ones!”

“Worrabout plum pies, bet they’re juicier, eh, Chief?”

“Roobab pies is good, wid lotsa ’oney on, though. D’yer think dey puts ’oney on their roobab pies in der, Chief?”

Groffgut kicked the last speaker soundly, having heard enough about their favourite pies. “Will youse all shurrup? Yis yis, dey’ve got loadsa diff’rent pies in der. Now let’s gerron wid it, eh!”

Creeping out of the ditch, the gang made it across the path, into the shadow of the wall. Groffgut and the three he had nominated flattened themselves against the wall.

Their leader whispered urgently to Fleddy and Obbler, “Cummon youse two, up yer get. Stand tight, mates!”

It was not as easy as it had sounded. There were muttered complaints as soon as the two younger rats began clambering over the four who formed the bottom line.

“Nyyurk! Don’t stand on me nose like dat, clumsypaws!”

“Oooh, yew stuck yore footpaw in me eye, gerroff!”

“Stop ticklin’ an’ git yer tail outta me ear, willyer!”

Groffgut gasped as his stomach was kicked hard. “I’ll tickle yer ears wid me sword if’n yer don’t shut yer big noisy gobs. Threetooth, it’s yore turn. Gerron top of their ’eads afore yer sling der rope!”

Unknown to the gang, they had been observed as soon as they left the ditch. Abbess Lycian had spotted them as she stood up to pour tea for herself and Burbee. She quickly informed Oreal Gatekeeper, who shot off to the Abbey and brought Skipper, Brink, Foremole Grudd and his entire crew up to the west wall.

They took a secret peep at the rat gang and held a whispered conference. Skipper’s initial idea was to exit the Abbey by the south wickergate, surround the rats and finish them off. The Abbess was horrified by the plan.

“But Skipper Banjon, they’re the same age as your own daughter. How could you kill such young creatures?”

“Vermin, Mother Abbess, they’re vermin!” Brink reminded her. “If you don’t kill vermin they’ll kill you, or some other innocent creatures who can’t defend themselves. Skipper’s right, marm, they’re young alright, young an’ evil!”