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Chapters (79)
  1. CHARGE!
  2. THE REDWALL BOOKS
  3. Dedication
  4. Map
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. ACT ONE
  7. 1
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 2
  11. 3
  12. 3
  13. 4
  14. 4
  15. 5
  16. 5
  17. 6
  18. 6
  19. 7
  20. 7
  21. 8
  22. 8
  23. 9
  24. 9
  25. 10
  26. 10
  27. 11
  28. 11
  29. 12
  30. 12
  31. 13
  32. 13
  33. ACT TWO
  34. 14
  35. 14
  36. 15
  37. 15
  38. 16
  39. 16
  40. 17
  41. 17
  42. 18
  43. 18
  44. 19
  45. 19
  46. 20
  47. 20
  48. 21
  49. 21
  50. 22
  51. 22
  52. 23
  53. 23
  54. 24
  55. 24
  56. 25
  57. 25
  58. ACT THREE
  59. 26
  60. 26
  61. 27
  62. 27
  63. 28
  64. 28
  65. 29
  66. 29
  67. 30
  68. 30
  69. 31
  70. 31
  71. 32
  72. 32
  73. 33
  74. 33
  75. 34
  76. 34
  77. Epilogue
  78. Epilogue
  79. What’s next onyour reading list?

In the blink of an eye the remaining Marlfoxes and water rats had abandoned the fight, leaping over the ditch and dashing headlong across the flatlands. Florian Dugglewoof Wilffachop waved his garden rake and started after the routed enemy, haranguing loudly. “Villains! Fiends! Pollywogglin’ babe-snatchers! You shall feel our wrath, we will pursue you to the very cracks of doom! Come on, you chaps. Chaaaaaarge!”

Skipper grabbed Florian’s frock-coat tails and hauled him back. “Leave it, matey, they still outnumber us two t’one. Let ’em go. We got our own to tend back ’ere.”

Victory over the foebeast had been won, but at a terrible price. The Noonvale otter Borrakul sat wounded, cradling Elachim’s head in his lap, repeating over and over, “My brother won’t wake up. Wake up, Elachim, please!”

Runktipp took the slain otter gently from his grieving brother. “He ain’t goin’ t’wake up, friend Borrakul. Leave ’im t’me.”

Janglur hauled Rusvul upright and supported him. “You all right, cully? That’s a spear you got growin’ out o’ yore side!”

Rusvul gasped and winced as Janglur removed the weapon. “Never went in too deep. I’ll live, mate. But that’s more’n I can say for some who weren’t so lucky!”

Skipper stooped over Tragglo Spearback, patting the Cellarhog’s face and talking gently to him. “Tragg, come on, ole lad, don’t go sleepin’ there. We’ll get y’back ’ome to a nice soft bed. Wake up now.”

The old hedgehog’s eyes fluttered open and he smiled weakly. “Slingshot. Must o’ been a bit o’ metal. It’s still stuck in my ’ead.”

A heart-piercing cry came from out on the open ground to the south.

“Logalogalogalogalog! Our Chieftain’s doooooown!”

Florian, who was helping Runktipp to carry Elachim’s body, looked around at the sound of the voice. “Wot’n the name o’ seasons is that?”

The Guosim shrew Mayon strode up, ashen-faced. “’Tis the Guosim death cry. Log a Log is slain. Bargle found ’im.”

Surprisingly enough it was Florian who restored order and got things moving. “Now there’s been terrible battle done here this night, y’know, chaps, but we must attend the livin’ first. Right, pick up the wounded an’ let’s get ’em inside the Abbey. When that’s taken jolly good care of I’ll organize a party to return for our fallen comrades. Come on now, please, can’t sit about here weepin’ all night, wot?”

Skipper shouldered Tragglo Spearback, regardless of his spikes. “Mister Florian’s right, mates. Come on, let’s git inside. There’ll be elders an’ young ’uns waitin’ t’hear whether we won or not.”

Emerging from the cloud shadow, a pale moon cast its soft radiance over the dusty path at Redwall’s southwest corner, where so much had been won and lost that night.

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