Before the Redwallers had a chance to marshal their forces and open fire, they were beset by birds. Rooks hurtled down from the galleries, pecking and clawing. General Ironbeak and Mangiz, leading a small force, dropped down behind them. Amid the confusion, Constance saw what was happening: Ironbeak was trying to cut off their path back to Cavern Hole. She whirled, dealing a rook a heavy blow that sent it spinning as it buried its claws into her neckfur.

“Back, back. Return to Cavern Hole, everybeast. Hurry!” she ordered.

Two rooks were trying to drag Sister May off by the back of her habit, but John Churchmouse thwacked them soundly with a javelin.

“Gaahh, scat! Come on, Sister, follow me!” he cried.

Calmly the little Sister shot off an arrow. “Got him! Ha, he won’t sit down for a season. Take that, you horrible bird! Oh, right. Come on, Mr. Churchmouse, I’ll protect you.”

Ambrose Spike took a run at a group of birds who were attacking Cornflower. Curling himself tight, he went spinning into them like a flying ball of needles, and they rose to the air, squawking.

Constance lashed about with a frying pan, the weapon making a loud bong every time she scored a hit.

“Get out of our Abbey, you scavengers!”

Bong!

“Look out behind you, Abbot!”

Bong!

Constance hurtled at Ironbeak and Mangiz. The sight of the large badger with teeth bared made them jump to one side. She growled and snarled like a wild beast, charging them recklessly so that they had to take to the air. The other birds followed their leaders’ example.

Winifred the Otter saw the way clear to Cavern Hole.

“This way, everybeast!” she called.

*   *   *

They clattered down the stairs and slammed the table back into position and not a moment too soon. Ironbeak saw his trap had been foiled and he chased several birds down the stairs.

“After them! They must not escape!”

Winifred and Constance were waiting.

“Now!”

Two javelins shot from the arrow slits in the barricade. One rook fell slain. Another took the javelin in his leg. Hopping and cawing, he followed his fellow fighters up the stairs in a hasty retreat, the javelin clattering and dragging from the limb it had pierced.

Ambrose Spike pushed a form up to the defences. “Stand on this, you archers. See if you can fire across at those magpies.”

Several of the Brothers and Sisters took their place and began loosing shafts at the thieves. The arrows fell miserably short, though they did have the effect of deterring other attackers from coming down the stairs.

Constance slammed a heavy paw against the wall. “The thieving, pilfering barbarians, how dare they steal our Warrior’s tapestry!”

Foremole tugged at her fur. “’scusin’ oi, marm. Whoi doant ee use our tunnels?”

“Tunnels? But how? What good would that do?”

“Hurr, you’m could come at um throo main door. They baint be aspecten that.”