Martin The Warrior Part 11

Several Squidjees started draping wet seaweed on the mole's head.

Martin looked about for Dinjer. Rose spotted him.

"There he is, the little blaggard. Look, climbing!"

Dinjer had strayed from the rest and taken a notion to scale the cliff face. The section he chose was slippery and steep, with sharp crags sticking out above it. Martin's patience snapped. He leaped up, pointing at the miscreant.

"Get down from there, you stupid little beast, or you'll fall!"

The Queen heard him. Angrily she threw a rock, catching Martin sharply on his unprotected back.

"Biggamouse biggamouth! Notalk Ballamum son like-that, badtalk. Ballamum killslay biggamouse!"

Martin was about to make some reply when there was a loud screech. "Yeeeaaakkk!"

A great gannet had swooped down and s.n.a.t.c.hed Dinjer from the rocks. The infant pigmy shrew was carried high into the air, held by his tail and the hem of his loose robe in the lethal amber beak of the predator. He wriggled and squealed like a midget piglet. Immediately all activity on the sh.o.r.e ceased as Amballa's wails rent the air.

"Waaah waaah! Dinjergone himdead likefather, like- father!"

"I remember that when I was younger/' Pallum whispered to Rose. "Dinjer's father was taken by a big gannet like that one. Poor little mite, he's as good as dead now."

Amballa had slid down from her seat on the rocks. She covered her eyes and wept inconsolably. "Nomore Dinjerbabe! Himgone, deadnow!"

Martin grabbed her by the paws, pulling her upright. "Notdead, Ballamum, Dinjer notdead. Biggamouse savehim!"

Seizing the Queen's sword, which was no more than a dagger in his paw, Martin bowled the nearest two pigmy shrews over and s.n.a.t.c.hed their fis.h.i.+ng net. Das.h.i.+ng off along the sh.o.r.e after the gannet, he called back to his friends. "Get more nets and follow me. Hurry!"

The gannet soared upwards, wheeled, and dropped down on to a high ledge in an isolated part of the cliffs. Dinjer was stunned by the landing. The infant lay limp between the big bird's well-clawed and webbed feet. There was a large untidy nest on the ledge, with two scrawny half-feathered gannet chicks in it. On seeing their mother they set up a cackle.

As he ran, Martin watched the bird descend and alight on the high ledge. Without pausing, he ran to the cliff face directly below it. Pausing only to grip the sword-blade in his teeth, he hurled the fis.h.i.+ng net upwards. The meshes caught on the rocks. Giving a quick tug to 112.

check its firmness, Martin began climbing, pulling himself up paw over paw on the tough kelp net. When he reached where the net had caught, he disentangled it, whirling it around his head he hurled it aloft, catching another rocky crag. Again he began hauling himself up over the meshes.

Below on the beach, the whole of the Highbeast pigmy shrew tribe had gathered. They watched as Martin continued his ascent. Rose began spreading the other nets on the sand, las.h.i.+ng four of them together. The pigmy shrews were getting in her way, ignoring her as they trampled the nets and gazed up. Rose, Pallum and Grumm bulled into them, pus.h.i.+ng them backwards.

"Get out of the way. Can't you see we're trying to help him?"

One of the Highbeasts kicked out at Rose. "Cheeka-mouse! Notalka me likethat."

Amballa bit him savagely on the neck and knocked him down. "Gettaway quicknow like mousesay, allayou!"

A piercing cry came from Dinjer as he woke and saw his predicament. "Eeeee! Helpme helpmeeeeee!"

Martin heard the cry and redoubled his efforts, throwing the net upwards and scrambling over it. He chanced a quick look up-only about three more lengths to go.

Dinjer's tear-stained face appeared over the rim of the ledge. "Eeeeeee helpadinjer eeeeeee!"

He was dragged back by the formidable beak of the gannet. The huge bird tossed him against the side of the nest. Dinjer curled up tight as the two hungry chicks tried to crane their floppy necks over the edge of the nest to get at him.

Below on the sh.o.r.e, Amballa hid her face in horror of what might happen to her little son. Rose put a comforting paw around the Queen's shoulders.

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"Nocry, Ballamum. Biggamouse Martin is mighty warrior. He will get your Dinjer back, yousee, yousee!"

Amballa seemed to understand Rose. She clung to the mousemaid as she anxiously watched the high ledge.

Breathing raggedly with exertion, Martin pulled himself up on to the ledge, hauling the net up after him.

Dinjer saw him and jumped up, yelling. "Biggamouse Martinmouse, savemeeeee!"

The gannet turned its bright dangerous eyes on Martin as he took the sword from his mouth.

"Dinjer, nomake nonoise, bestill, still!"

The gannet took a stalking stride towards Martin, lowering its lethal yellow beak. The young mouse swung with the little sword. It clacked harmlessly off the great bird's beak, but caused the gannet to stop where it was. Now Martin shook the net out and swished it at the bird's feet. It took a step back. Behind him he could hear Dinjer sobbing with terror. Working his way across the ledge, jabbing with the sword and sweeping with the net, Martin gradually got himself into a position where he was between the gannet and its nest.

Sensing danger to its chicks, the gannet began spreading its wings, lowering its neck and opening its beak wide as it hissed at the intruder. Martin knew there was not much time, it was getting ready to attack. He would have to act quickly. Throwing back his head, he shouted aloud into the gannet's face, hoping that he could be heard below on the beach.

"Stretch the nets! Hold them up, lots of you. Be ready!"

Rose heard him. She had thought of giving her eagle call, but if Martin or Dinjer were in the nest they would be crushed under the gannet, which would naturally sit on its nest to defend the chicks against anything. Grasping a corner of the net, Rose held it high, yelling aloud, "Holdup net. Stretch it tight. Now!"

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The Highbeast tribe stood uncertainly for a moment, until a harsh order from Amballa their Queen sent them scurrying to the edges of the net, with Rose, Pallum, Grumm and Amballa at each corner.

The Queen snapped out directions. "Holda netup, upup! Stretcher tightnow!"

The net was ready, up and tightly stretched.

Martin reached back with his footpaw, keeping a wary eye on the gannet as he kicked Dinjer lightly.

"Movenow, Dinjer. Get over to the edge ..."

Dinjer began crawling on all fours. The gannet, sensing it was being robbed of its prey, tried to pa.s.s Martin to get at Dinjer. Martin jabbed with the sword. This time he nipped the bird in its open mouth. It retaliated with lightning swiftness, pecking him sharply in the side. Martin drew his breath in short at the pain. He clamped his paw over the spot, feeling warm damp blood.

Dinjer was now at the edge of the cliff, peering over at the dizzy drop down to the sh.o.r.e.

"Jump, Dinjer, jump!" Martin hissed at him.

"Eeee nojump nojump, Dinjer 'fraid!"

There was nothing else for it. Martin turned swiftly and gave the baby pigmy shrew a hefty kick on the bottom that sent him flying outwards over the edge.

"Yeeeeeeeeeeehhhkkkk!"

Whumpl Dinjer bounced up and down in the center of the net. Saved!

The gannet gave a shrill squawk and attacked Martin. Leaping to one side, he whirled the net and threw it straight over the bird's head. The kelp fis.h.i.+ng net enveloped the gannet's head and one wing, and draped on the ground, trapping one of its webbed feet. Martin fell to one side, dragging at the net. The bird's head came awkwardly askew and it tried to pull its leg free. Martin 115.

kicked out at its other leg, sending the gannet cras.h.i.+ng on its side, loosely trapped in the net.

The young mouse leapt up, his chest heaving. The net would not hold the big sea bird for long and he did not wish to kill it. The two chicks were squawking raucously in the nest. Turning to the fallen mother bird, Martin loosed off the net. Then he ran for the edge shouting aloud, "One for the net coming doooooooo-own!"

He leaped into the blue summer morning, up and out. Momentarily he was robbed of breath as the wind whistled past his ears. Spread-eagled, with all limbs flailing, he dropped like a stone, plummeting down into the net.

Whumff!

A mighty cheer rose up from everybeast on the sh.o.r.e.

Rose, Pallum and Grumm hurried to help Martin from the net. The mousemaid tore a strip from her smock.

"You're hurt. Let me see. Oh, thank goodness, it's not serious!"

Martin let her bandage his side. Amballa came over, smiling through her tears. Martin offered her sword back but she refused.

"Martinmouse warriormouse, greatbrave, savemy Dinjerbabe. Ballamum saythis. Warrawant? Anything foryou!"

Pallum nudged Martin as he whispered, "She's just offered you anything you want for saving Dinjer. I've never heard the Queen do a thing like that before."

A silence fell over the a.s.sembled Highbeasts. Martin lifted the sword and with two swift strokes freed Rose of her hobbling log. Striding purposefully over to Pallum and Grumm, he slashed through the kelps that bound them to the logs. Pallum could not remember being without the great log impeding his footpaws. He held the broken kelp ends and wept silently.

Martin faced the Queen of the pigmy shrews eye to eye. "We want free!"

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The silence on the sh.o.r.e intensified as Amballa drew herself up regally, her fierce little eyes burning into Martin's. "Ballamum saythis. Yougo allfree!"

The ranks of the Highbeast tribe parted to let the four friends pa.s.s through. They walked in silence, holding the slashed kelp ends lest they tripped.

Suddenly Dinjer ran out in front of Martin, swinging a stick. He struck the young mouse, hard as he could. Martin winced as he took the blow full across the face. Dinjer was in a foul temper, striking and screaming as his tantrum grew.

"Biggamouse kickamee. Killslay biggamouse. He kick-amee Dinjer!"

Instantly Amballa was between the two. She grabbed Dinjer, snapped the stick and threw it away, then seizing her son by his tail she began spanking him hard with her free paw.

"Martinmouse rightsay you stupid ... little ... beast!"

The loud cheers of the pigmy shrews, coupled with Dinjer's anguished wails, cut through the sunlit morning as the four friends strolled free along the beach, away from pigmy shrews and captivity.

Grumm smiled fondly. "Burr, tha' sound be loik music to moi ears!"

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i4 While Cap'n Tramun Clogg took a party around the headland to see what he could salvage of his s.h.i.+p, Bad-rang attended to other matters. Druwp the bankvole stood before the Tyrant in his longhouse. Badrang had his aides, Gurrad and Hisk, bring food for the spy. Roast sea bird, baked fish, new bread and a flagon of damson wine were placed in front of Druwp, but the treacherous creature had suddenly lost his appet.i.te. He eyed the long thin whipping rods held by Gurrad and Hisk, completely overawed in the presence of the mighty Badrang. The bankvole had told them all he knew, but Badrang was not satisfied. Danger radiated from the stoat's eyes. He was in an unpredictable mood.

"Let me get this straight, Druwp. You knew that the prisoners were going to escape from the prison pit, but you don't know how they did it. You know the ringleaders of the slave resistance and you know they have buried weapons, but you don't know what their plans are. Don't play me for a fool, bankvole. Give me some good hard information that I can act upon."

Druwp swallowed hard, his mouth dry as a bone. "I know exactly where the weapons are buried, Sire."

Badrang smiled at Hisk and Gurrad. Coming swiftly 118.

out of his chair, he patted Druwp's back, feeling the spy flinch beneath his touch.

"Good, good. That's what I want to hear. Tell me exactly where they are."

"Lord, they are inside the slave compound, buried in the earth beneath the sleeping pallet of an otter called Tullgrew. I watched her digging the hole. She did not know I saw her."

Badrang turned to his aides. "Come on, let's go and take a look. You have done well, Druwp. From now on you will be my eyes and ears in the ranks of the slaves. Sit down, eat, drink and be easy."

When Badrang and his cronies had left the longhouse Druwp felt his confidence returning, his appet.i.te too. Seating himself at the table, he poured a large beaker of wine and tore off a leg from the roast sea bird. The bread smelled good and fresh as he stuffed it hungrily into his mouth. Quaffing damson wine and setting his teeth into the hot meat, Druwp allowed himself a rare smile. Let the others be helpful and n.o.ble to each other. He was in the business of self-preservation.

The slaves had lain idle since the hostilities with Clogg, but they knew it would not last. Badrang would soon have them toiling under the lash. The afternoon was warm and lazy with hardly a breeze. They made the most of it, lying about in the sun.

A mouse called Yarrow wandered over to the palisade and peered through a gap. "Barkjon! Badrang is comin' this way with Gurrad an' Hisk."

The old squirrel was instantly at his side. "Yes, I see them. I wonder what they want?"

Badrang stood in the center of the compound, a knowing smile hovering round his lips. The slaves shuffled nervously as Hisk and Gurrad wandered amongst them, flicking the long thin rods. The Tyrant's voice was soft, almost friendly, as he addressed his captives.

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"Well, you've had a nice easy few days, but it'll be back to work in the morning. Stand by your beds while we take a head count."

They hurried to obey, giving Hisk and Gurrad's rods a wide berth. An eerie silence settled over the whole place as the two Captains walked around the nervous creatures standing by their pitiful sacks of straw which served as beds. Gurrad took one side, Hisk the other, tapping their canes against each animal's chest as they counted.

Hillgorse the old hedgehog stood in front of a very young mouse called Hoopoe. As Gurrad's cane snaked out to touch the youngster, Hillgorse batted it aside with his paw. He spoke out, his voice bold and enquiring. "What's all this about? What do you want of us?"

"Hillgorse, is that your name?" The Tyrant's voice was still deceptively friendly. "That's what they call me."

"Hmm, I thought so. Let me see now, which one of you is Barkjon?"

Felldoh's father took a pace forward. "I am Barkjon."

Badrang's eyes roved this way and that. "Keyla, is there a young otter named Keyla?" "Aye, that's me!" Keyla held up a paw. Badrang stared at the otter a moment. "Good, good. You can tell me which one is Tullgrew. Another otter, like yourself."

Keyla exchanged glances with Barkjon and Hillgorse before replying. "Tullgrew? There's no Tullgrew here." Badrang's voice hardened. "Lie to me and you'll die, all three of you. Who is Tullgrew?"

The otter could not see her friends endangered. She held up her paw. "My name is Tullgrew."

Badrang strode across to her and kicked the sack of bedding gra.s.s. "Move that and start digging."

Slowly Tullgrew did as she was bid. The noon sun beat down on the compound. A small cloud of dust 120.

arose where the otter toiled away, digging the sandy clayish ground with both paws. Barkjon looked across to Hillgorse. Their eyes were sad with resignation.

Tullgrew dug until she was standing in a pit half her own height. Sweat ran down into her eyes, hiding t1 .e look of puzzlement in them.