Gelltor grabbed the vixen and dragged her to safety behind the tree. “We’ll have to think of another way to burn that door down.”

Vannan tried to regulate her panting breath. “What about using fire arrows?”

Gelltor looked at her pityingly. “Fire arrows? Did you see the length of those shafts the Redwallers are shooting? You need a great longbow to fire such a shaft. We don’t have anything like that. Our bows aren’t powerful enough—we’d be well within their range long before we could loose off a shot.”

The vixen settled her back against the sycamore, pouting sulkily. “Well, why don’t you think of something, brother? You’re supposed to be the one with all the good ideas.”

With a wave, Gelltor summoned his rats from the underbush. “No need to look so smug, sister. As it happens I do have an idea, a good one!”

*

The otter Borrakul made his way over to Skipper from the north wall. “Bargle says that they’re rainin’ stones an’ arrows heavy on the north side, Skip. He thinks they’re plannin’ some kind o’ move over that way, usin’ their firepower t’keep our heads down.”

From his position by the south wallgate, Skipper called up to Janglur, “Y’hear that, mate? What d’ye think they’re up to?”

The warrior squirrel called back confidently, “Hah! That’s the oldest trick in the book, Skip. They’re tryin’ to decoy us away from ’ere so they can burn the wallgate. Borrakul, tell Bargle to sit tight there an’ keep low.”

Rusvul had spotted movement at the woodland edges. Notching a shaft to his bowstring, he murmured calmly to Janglur, “Here they come again, matey. Spread out this time, about eight o’ them, I count. They’re goin’ to take some stoppin’ this time!”

Janglur called to the otter on the ground below. “Best make yore move now, Skip, while they’re still far enough away.”

Skipper gave the nod to Gubbio Foremole and his crew, half of whom were carrying pails of water. “You ready, Gubb?”

“Say ee word, zurr, us’n’s be’s never readier, hurr aye!”

Skipper unbolted the wallgate and swung it open. “Go!”

Those moles not carrying pails scuttled outside and cleared the gateway of inflammable wood and brush, heaving it inside, while the rest doused the outside of the gate down with pails of water. Skipper stood out in front of them, his longbow bent with a big arrow resting on its taut string, protecting the moles from attack. Now vermin were about halfway across the open ground. Janglur watched them pause, spread wide in a half-circle. Suddenly the night blossomed with orange flame, as the water rats set burning tow to speartops bound with oily rags and charged for the gate.

“Front’n’center, Skip!”