The rats formed themselves in a cordon around the idol, spears pointing outwards. Nadaz dashed to the far side of the ledge and began pounding on a deep circular drum to sound the alarm. Slagar did not wait for the attackers to arrive, he slunk off quickly down the winding causeway stairs, pointing to the black-robed rats who charged past him on their way up.

“Hurry to the ledge, everybeast. Malkariss wants you!” he told them.

“Redwall! Mossflower! Logalogalogalog!”

The woodlanders came roaring out of the passage on to the ledge. Log-a-Log and the Guosim charged the rats defending the statue, but they were quickly repulsed by the fanatical dedication of the fighters with their stabbing spears.

More rats were already on the platform of the ledge. Matthias gasped with shock. A countless horde was pounding its way up the stairs of the causeway. He had not realized the numbers were so vast. Like seething black ants, they swarmed up from the misty green depths. Without thinking, he threw himself at the foremost group. Orlando and Jess ran to help him, the squirrel armed with a short shrew sword.

“Drive them back, we’ve got to stop them getting onto this ledge!” Matthias shouted.

A spear thrust nipped Orlando’s muzzle and blood sprang to his nosetip.

“Eeeeeuuulaliaaaaa!”

The maddened badger went in like a battering ram. Rats who tried to back out of his way were driven over the edge of the ledge and plunged screaming into the green misted depths. Matthias was filled with battle rage. He tried hard to keep a level head, using all the time-honored skills of the true warrior swordsmouse. Sweep, slice, cleave, thrust; he worked like a machine, relentlessly battling great odds. Jess was different, she leapt and bounded, stabbing left and right, blood flowing from her tail like a scarlet ribbon. Though the stabbing spears were unwieldy at any great range, they were proving effective at close quarters. None of the blackrobes spoke or shouted. They formed flying wedges, charging individual attackers, often breaking to surround them in a stabbing ring of spearpoints.

Log-a-Log had been driven back twice. At the second attempt he fell, wounded in the throat by a spear. Basil Stag Hare leapt into the breach.

“Righto, Guosim lads. Form three ranks over here. Front and center now, look lively! Slings and bows only, fire, drop down an’ reload. Keep advancin’, that’s the style. Fire, drop down, reload, but keep movin’ to your front. Sharpish now. Good show!”

The rats were forced to break their circle and came round to defend the front of the statue from Basil’s strategy. The hare was a veteran at manoeuvres. He gathered a small force of shrews carrying javelins.