Mossflower

excellent boat builder."

252

Paws were shaken warmly, then the three hares were invited to sit by the fire

with the travelers. It amused Martin and his friends how the hares spoke in

turn.

"Well, well. This is comfy. Tell us all about yourselves."

"Rather! What neck of the old county are you bods from?"

"Live far from here, do you?"

Martin explained the nature of their quest. At the mention of Bella's father,

Boar the Fighter, a twinkle passed between die eyes of the hares. The warrior

continued the tale up until the time they had found the rat on the shore.

"Well, that's our story," he concluded. "Now, what's yours? How do you three

come to be out here in the middle of nowhere next to a fire mountain?"

"Actually, that'd be telling."

"Er, haha. I second that, old bean."

"Oh yes, quite."

Getting a straight answer from either Trubbs, Wother, or Ffring was difficult,

to say the least. Gonff tried the casual approach.

"Well, you can either stay here with us, mateys, or be off about your

business. WeVe got to get a proper night's sleep so that we can climb that

mountain tomorrow."

The three hares shuffled about a bit, then their tone became more

businesslike.

"Ah, the mountain . . . Actually, we've been sent down here to you."

"To lead you to the mountain, y'see."

"Would you mind awfully coming along with us?"

Log-a-Log clapped Ms paws in delight. "Haha, now you're talking."

The hares wiggled their long ears appreciatively.

"Yes, I suppose we are talking, really."

"Never alone, though. Always together, you'll notice."

"Silly, really, I suppose. Do hope you'll forgive us, what?"

"Mateys," Gonff chuckled, "we'll forgive you anything if you can take us up

that mountain."

"Hmm, it's not actually up, don't you see."

"No, it's sort of under, doncha know."

"But we are glad you're coming with us, chaps."

Dinny scratched his head. "Ho air, us'ns be a-commen with *ee awright. But

who'm sent *ee for uz?"

253

"You'll soon see."

"I'll say you will."

"Most definitely."

Martin kicked sand on the fire to extinguish it. "Righto. Lead on, Trubbs,

Wotherand Ffring."

"Oh, I say. Good show. Let's all go together."

"One never leads, triple initiative, what?"

"Jolly good idea, chums."

As they started toward the mountain, the three hares produced strangely shaped

shells. They blew into them simultaneously, making a treble note not unlike

that of three small trumpets. The sound echoed across the stillness of the

shore. Immediately the scene lit up like daylight as a huge blast of flame

rose from, Salamandastron. A voice like thunder on a hot noon boomed out with

an immense rumble.

"Come in peace to the mountain of fire lizards!"

Hearing the gigantic sound effect, Log-a-Log threw himself facedown upon the

sand with both paws over his ears, but the hares seemed hardly to notice it.

"Oh, golly. Old Log-a-Thing's fallen over."

"Must be in a blue funk about the boomer, eh."

"I expect so. Up you get, old fellah."

It was a narrow passage between the sand and the rocks; they went in single

file. At the end was a small cave. Trubbs tugged at a concealed cord. They had

to jump aside as a stout ladder clattered down from the darkened recesses

overhead.

"Right. Up you go, laddie."

"No, no. After you, old chap."

"Oh really, I insist."

Martin jumped up to the rungs of the ladder. "I'll go first, if it'll save you

three arguing."

"What a spiffing idea."

"Sensible chap, what?"

"Rather. Indeed he is."

At the top of the ladder they found themselves in a broad upward-running

passage hewn into the living rock. The ladder was hoisted and they walked up

the steep incline, lit by torches at regular intervals in wall sconces. From

somewhere above there was a steady roaring sound.

254

"Wot be that gurt noise, maisters?" Dinny asked curiously.

"Could be the jolly old fire lizards."

"Then again, it might not be."

"You'll soon find out, old fellow."

Five flights of stairs hewn into the rock, one more cave and another steep

corridor led them to their destination.

The very heart of Salamandastron!

Bane the fox came down the dusty road from the north with his band of

mercenary plunderers.

They numbered about sixty in all, mainly foxes, with a scattering of rats and

weasels—a motley group, part tramp, part scavenger, mostly thieves. All were

well armed and capable, despite their ragged appearance. Food they had in

plenty: fish, birds, and vegetables to cook with them. By craft, guile and

murder they had crossed the boundless northern lands, seeking warmer climes

and easier living.

Bane was weary of living on his paws, always on the move. He was on the

lookout for some fat prosperous little community where he could hold sway

without much argument.

Then he spotted Kotir. A grand ruin that had seen better days, but the

possibilities were there. Backed by woodland, fronted by flatland, practically

skirting a road used by travelers—it was a dream come true.

Leaving orders for his band to camp in the ditch at the roadside out of sight,

Bane circled Kotir by himself to spy out the lie of the land. The more he saw

of Kotir, the more he fancied it. There would be no more winters in the

freezing northlands once he gained entry to this place.

Striding purposefully around the woodland edge at the south side, he

practically bumped into Tsarmina returning from the forest. It would have been

hard for a bystander to tell who was the more surprised, the fox or the

wildcat. As Tsarmina quickly nocked an arrow to her bowstring, Bane's paw shot

down to the curved sword he wore at his side. There was a moment's silence as

they both stood still, gathering their wits. Finally Bane cocked a paw toward

the fortress.

"Whose place is this?"

"It is mine. Who are you?" Tsarmina demanded haughtily.

255

"They call me Bane. I'm a fighter, but if there's an easier way of getting

what I want I'll always try it."

"Hmm, a fighter. My name is Tsarmina, Queen of the Thousand Eyes. That is my

headquarters; it is called Kotir."

"Thousand Eyes," Bane said thoughtfully. "There was only ever one with that

name, old Verdauga Greeneyes. He was a wildcat, too."

"Yes, he was my father."

"Was?"

"Verdauga is dead now. I alone rule here. If you want, you may come into my

service. Kotir is in need of fighters. Are there any with you?''

"Sixty in all. Trained warriors—foxes, rats and weasels."

"I don't trust foxes. Why should I trust you?"

"Ha, who trusts who these days?" Bane snorted. "I'm not particularly fond of

wildcats. I've fought alongside your father, and against him, too."

"No doubt you have, but that is in the past now. You say you have threescore

warriors at your command. What would be your terms if you came to serve

Kotir?"

"Make me an offer."

"I'll do better than that. I'll make you a guarantee, Bane," Tsarmina told the

fox. "There are certain creatures—otters, squirrels, mice, hedgehogs . . .

woodlanders. One time they used to serve my family, now they choose to live in

Moss-flower Woods and resist me. Once we have flushed them out of hiding

together and enslaved them, then you can have an equal place alongside me. We

will rule Mossflower jointly."

Bane's paw left the sword hilt. "Done! I'll take you at your word."

"And I will take you at yours," Tsarmina replied, clasping the proffered paw.

Their untruthful eyes smiled falsely at each other.

Tsarmina saw that at least Bane had told the truth about his followers; ragged

and unkempt, but fighters to a beast.

They entered Kotir together.

Bane felt as if the place had been built for him.

The uniformed soldiery of Kotir looked askance at the tattered but well-fed

band of mercenaries.

Bane's fighters cast scornful eyes over the ill-fed soldiers in their

cumbersome livery.

256

Tsarmina and Bane were closeted together in the Queen's Chamber. She listened

to his ideas with respect; treachery could come later, but for now she gave

the fox full credit as an experienced campaigner.

Bane's plan was simple. "Don't give *em an inch; show them you mean business;

forget about subterfuge and spies-thai only makes for prolonged war—strike

hard and be ruthless. We have the superior number of trained fighters. Start

tomorrow morning, have the full strength out in skirmish line, comb the forest

thoroughly, kill any who resist and take the rest prisoner. It's the only way

to get results, believe me."

"Bold words, Bane," Tsarmina told him approvingly. "But have you tried

fighting squirrel archers? They can vanish through the treetops as quick as

you can think."

"Then burn the trees, or chop them down. I've seen it all before. If small

creatures scurry off down holes, then block them up, fill every possible exit.

That's all they understand. You take my word, it works every time. I know, IVe

done it."

Tsarmina pointed out of the window at the fastness of Mossflower. "Could you

do it again out there?"

"With our combined forces, easily."

"Then we start tomorrow morning," she said decisively.

"At first light!"

Columbine was learning to use one of the smaller squirrel bows. Lady Amber had

set up a target while they patrolled the digging areas to protect the workers.

"Pull the string right back," Lady Amber instructed. "Look along the arrow

shaft with one eye. See the target? Good. Now breathe out and release the

arrow at the same time . . . Fine shot, Columbine!"

The shaft stood quivering near the target's center.

"Haha, I'm getting better at it all the time, Lady Amber."

"You certainly are. Keep it up and you'll soon be as good as me."

Foremole and Old Dinny came trundling up. The mole leader tugged his snout to

Amber.

257

"Marm, Dinny an' oi filled up yon holler oak stump whurr 'ee got'n out Kotir

from,*' he reported.

Old Dinny plucked the arrow from the target and returned it to Columbine.

"Hurr, that we'ave," he agreed. "Doant want Sudden com men out thurr. We'm

gotter fludd cat place, not 'm woodlands."

Amber sighed. "It's a long dig. Let's hope we can do it before the cat and her

army make any surprise moves."

Skipper sprang dripping from the river.

"Never fear, Amber. My crew and I have done our bit. We've dug from under the

water clear to the floodgates your crew sunk into the ground, where the moles

began digging. Mind, I wish we could tunnel as well as Billum, Soilflyer and

Urthclaw. Strike me colors, you ought to see those lads shift earth."

Foremole and Old Dinny smiled with pleasure, but Amber slammed her paw against

the target.

"I just wish there was more my squirrels and I could do. Oh, I know we're

patrolling and keeping watch, but we don't seem to be contributing any real

work." She sighed again.

"Then why don't you let me and my crew do a bit of guard duty?" Skipper

suggested. "We could certainly do with the rest after all that underwater

diggin'. Listen, Billum reckons they'll strike some big rocks soon; why don't

you see if you could rig up something that'll help the moles to move them?"

Amber was delighted with the suggestion.

"Righto. I'll get Barklad and Oakapple onto it. They could rig tree hoists.

Thanks, Skip."

Chibb had flown a wide patrol merely for the exercise, but soon he grew weary

of such energetic practices. Perching on a branch not far from the sleeping

Argulor, he listened to the eagle talking in its sleep.

"Hmm, pine marten, one little pine marten, that's all, maybe they taste like

pine, hmmmmmm."

35

258

Despite the feeling of awe, Gonff could not help smiling to himself. After

watching Salamandastron from afar, seeing the •column of fire that spouted

from its top, and recalling the very name meant "mountain of the fire lizard,"

the little mousethief immediately saw it was a trick worthy of some mind as

clever and resourceful as his own. There were no fire-breathing dragons here,

but there was something equally as impressive in this great cave.

It was more than a cave, he decided. It was a huge mountain hall. At the its

center was a mighty furnacelike forge. A towering column of rockwork took it

up to the ceiling, away out of sight. Surrounded by hares, there stood the

father of badgers. He was pure silver from tip to tail with a double broad

creamy white stripe on either side of his forehead. Above the thickly muscled

limbs and barrel chest, a pair of wild eyes surveyed the newcomers. Giving the

mighty bellows handle a powerful downward swing, he tossed a red-hot

spearpoint with a quick flick of his bare paws. It landed in a water trough

with a boiling hiss of bubbles.

As the badger stumped across to them, Martin could almost feel the

reverberations through the rock floor. He towered above them, extending a

calloused paw that resembled a chunk of rock.

"Welcome to Salamandastron, friends. I am Boar the Fighter," the big voice

boomed and echoed about the hall.

259

His paw enveloped by Boar's, Martin felt very tiny. Now the full impact of

Bella's words came to him. Here indeed was one to save Mossflower; the silver

badger looked as if he could tear Kotir to pieces with his paws.

"I am Martin the Warrior. This is Young Dinny, and these two are Gonff and

Log-a-Log. I have traveled from Moss-flower with my friends to bring a message

from your daughter, Bella of Brockhall."

Boar unfastened his apron and shed it.

"All this I know. Come, let us go to my cave. It is more comfortable there. My

hares will bring you food and drink, and you can clean yourselves up.'*

As they followed Boar, Gonff whispered to Martin.

"How does he know, matey? Is he a magic badger?"

"Sshh," Martin silenced the mousethief. "Watch your manners. We'll get to know

soon enough."

Boar's cave was indeed comfortable. There were ledges to sit or lie upon

covered in velvety moss, plants grew around the walls and hung from the

ceiling. There was a rough rock table and a pool in one corner with steam

rising from its surface.

"The pool is heated from my forge," Boar said, noticing their surprise. "You

may bathe there later. You will observe that it is never cold here, again

thanks to the forge. But please be seated. Here comes the food."

The hares brought in new bread, fresh salad, baked fish, mint water and a

selection of last autumn's fruits crystallized in honey. After the frugal

seashore meals, the four travelers ate like a regiment many times their

number.

Boar watched them with something approaching amusement on his gigantic face.

Gonff gave him a friendly wink. "So, the flames of the forge carry up that

rock flue and shoot out the top of Sala-mandastron, eh?"

Boar winked back at Gonff. "You are a very perceptive little fellow, Gonff the

thief."

"Prince of Mousethieves, matey," Gonff corrected him.

"But how did you know he was a thief?" Martin interrupted.

Boar leaned his chin on muscular paws, bringing his eyes

260

level with Martin. "I know many things, little mouse. Later I will show you

how. Now, is that young Dinny, grandson of my childhood friend Dinny the

mole?"

"Hurr, Zur Bowar, that oi be. You'm know moi granfer Owd Dinny?" . "Of course

I do. Is that old rascal still going strong?"

"Ho urr, 'ee be fitter'n a flea an' owder'n twenny 'ogs," Dinny laughed.

"Good, I'm glad to hear it. And what about you, Log-a-Log?"

"Sir Boar, I am a boat builder, one-time leader of the Northwest Shrew Tribe."

"Oh? Why one-time leader?"

"Because I'm all that's left of my tribe in freedom," Log-a-Log explained. "We

were captured by sea rats. I was the only one to escape the galleys."

Boar's eyes hardened to a burning ferocity and the bones in his paws cracked

audibly as he ground them together.

"Sea rats! Dirty, treacherous, murdering scum!"

Martin was shocked at the deep hatred in Boar's voice, he listened intently as

the badger continued.

"Not only do they burn and plunder among honest creatures, but they are savage

to their own kind. Sinking each other's ships, murdering dieir own companions

for an extra pawful of loot."

"Log-a-Log has told me of a sea rat called Ripfang of the Bloodwake," Martin

interrupted. "Do you know him?"

Boar pointed seaward. "That one, he's out there now—my spies have been

watching him all spring—sailing from north to south of here, waiting his

chance to attack Salamandas-tron. Ripfang is the most evil of all sea rats. He

has fought and sunk all others who sail in these waters, pressing their crews

as slaves in his service. He is also the cleverest and most cunning of them

all."

"In what way is he clever and cunning?" Gonff asked, noting the concern on

Boar's face.

"Well, he has never feared Salamandastron, or the legends that surround this

place. Ripfang is very daring, too. He has personally been here and knows that

it is only myself and a few hares who keep the myth of the mountain alive.

Others

261

we can scare off, but not Ripfang. It is written that soon he will mount a

major war against Salamandastron."

This was the second time that Boar had spoken of things that had not yet

happened. Martin was curious.

"You say it is written, Boar?"

The badger stood tall, pointing at Martin. "What is that broken weapon you

wear about your neck like a medal?" he asked.

The warrior mouse took it off and gave it to Boar, who inspected it closely as

Martin explained.

"That was once the sword of my father. He was a warrior. How it came to be

broken I will tell you, because your daughter Bella asked me to inform you

about all that is going on in Mossflower."

As they ate and rested, Martin told Boar how he came to Kotir, the plight of

the woodlanders, and Bella's plea for Boar to return to his birthright and

free the land. Throughout the narrative, Boar the Fighter said nothing. He

paced the room, turning the broken sword hilt over in his paws, looking at it

as if it carried some message for him.

Martin finished his recitation of the events. "So you see, Mossflower has need

of its son, Boar," he concluded. "You must come back with us."

There was silence. When the silver badger spoke, he did not answer the plea.

"This is a very ancient sword hilt, a good one. I can make it into a new

weapon. I must give it a blade that will not be broken again by anything."

Martin saw that Boar would not be pressed for answers; he decided to comply

until the badger's mood changed.

"Thank you, Boar. I would dearly like to see my father's old sword forged into

a new weapon. Since it was broken I have felt like half a warrior carrying

half a sword."

Boar shook his massive head. "Your mistake, Martin. You are a real warrior, a

full and true one. You have the heart— I can see it in you. But when I make

this sword anew, you must always remember that it is not the weapon but the

creature that wields it. A sword is a force for good only in the paws of an

honest warrior. But enough now. You and your friends are tired. I will talk to

you tomorrow and show you

262

many things. Sleep here. If you wish to bathe the dust of travel away, I will

send my hares with dry towels for you." Boar took his leave of the travelers.

The hot bath was deep and refreshing. Trubbs, Wother and Ffring turned up with

huge soft towels.

"One each, you chaps. No splashing."

"Wash behind your ears, old sport."

"Night-night. See you in the morning."

Dry, full and warm, they lay on the moss-covered ledges.

"Hoo urr," Dinny yawned, "so we'm come to Samman-dastorat last."

Log-a-Log stared at the high ceiling.

"A wonderful place indeed. Strange creature that Boar, eh, Martin?"

"Oh, he'll tell us what he intends when he's good and ready," Martin said

airily. "Let's get some sleep. I've a feeling tomorrow's going to be a full

day."

Gonff could not resist a rendition of his latest song.

At last the weary travelers

Have reached their hearts' desire.

We quested overland to reach

The mountain of the fire.

To meet with Boar the Fighter,

Who knows secrets dark and deep—

Gonff sat upright scratching his whiskers, "What rhymes with deep, mateys?"

Three wet towels knocked him flat. "You'm moight troi sleep!"

263

The woodlanders were caught completely unawares in the early morning.

Led by Bane and Tsarmina, the joint forces hit swiftly. Luckily the little

ones were still abed at Brock hall and the Loamhedge mice were preparing

breakfasts. The only creatures at the diggings were moles, otters and a few

squirrels.

Bane's mercenaries dashed in, hacking madly, backed by Tsarmina's spears.

Urthclaw, Billum and Soilflyer were deep underground. The rest were caught in

the open.

It was chaos!

Skipper took an arrow in his side. Lady Amber lost an ear to a fox's sword.

The woodlands were alive with yelling, slashing animals. There was only one

thing to do: retreat with all speed. Disregarding his wounds, Skipper stood

fast with a small band of otters, hurling stones as he roared aloud, "Get

away, quickly!"

Amber and her squirrels managed to escape through the treetops, leaving two

slain on the ground. Skipper and his otters saw to it that the few moles were

safely carried off across the river, before vanishing into the water

themselves.

Tsarmina gave out howls of victory across the now silent woods.

Bane leaned on his curved sword breathing heavily. "See, I told you they're no

match for us. Phew! But they can put up a tidy fight, even when they're

outnumbered."

264

Brogg swaggered up and saluted.

"Two squirrels, three otters and a mole slain, Milady,'* he reported.

He was about to turn away when Bane tugged on his cloak.

"How many of ours lost?" he asked tersely.

"Three ferrets, a stoat and a weasel, four rats and a fox."

Bane shook his head in amazement. "Good job, we outnumbered them. No

prisoners?''

'.'No, sir, not a one."

"Hmm, pity."

Ratflank limped up, nursing a cracked paw.

"We've found three big holes over there by the river," he said.

The commanders strode across to the spot. Bane bent down and sniffed the earth

around each hole, while Tsarmina stood watching.

"What d'you suppose they were up to?" she wondered.

Bane spat into one of the holes. "Your guess is as good as mine. We didn't get

time to chop the trees or fire the woodland. Maybe there's some of 'em still

down these holes."

"Then we can fill them in." Tsarmina grinned wickedly. "Brogg, get some big

rocks, fetch that timber lying about there, use the spears, fill them in well

and press the earth down hard. They'll be imprisoned down there until the air

runs out."

Bane wiped his sword and sheathed it.

"Well, that's that. There's not much my band can do around here. We'll head

back to Kotir and try another dawn raid tomorrow."

Tsarmina was right beside the fox leader. She was not about to stop out in the

woods with her soldiers, leaving Bane to take over Kotir in her absence.

"Right, Bane. I'll leave Brogg with some of the others to get on with the job.

The rest of us will go back to Kotir with you."

As they marched off through the morning brightness of Mossflower, one of

Bane's foxes sniggered as he trod on the back of Ratflank's cloak.

"Yah, I think your pussycat Queen's frightened of us locking the fortress door

on her."

265

Ratflank tugged his cloak free, sneering. "Oh yes? Well, you just try calling

her pussycat to her face, hero!"

The first Bella knew of the attack was when the Corim leaders re gathered

their crews at Brockhall. Abbess Germaine and Columbine organized bandages and

herbs, Loamhedge mice bustled about ministering to the wounded. Skipper

refused to stand still, and Goody Stickle chased about after him, dabbing at

his injury, trying to get a bandage around it.

There were tears of rage in the otter's eyes. "Six lost, by the fur. Where did

they come from? Who was that fox with all those scruffy murderers? Tsarmina

could never have done this on her own."

Lady Amber adjusted the bandage around her head so she could see properly.

"I heard someone call him Bane," she told him. "Get Chibb. Tell him to go to

Kotir. He'll have to be very careful, but we've got to find out all we can

about this other lot."

Foremole tapped a digging claw upon the table.

"Us'll avter do summat 'bout Urthclaw, Soilflyer V Bil-lum. They'm stucken

down 'oles. Oo be a-tellen wot they villyuns do to *ee."

"Yes," Bella agreed, "it's most important that we rescue the moles from the

tunnels. Next on the list is to make sure that the area around Brockhall is

completely hidden. If they don't know where we are, they can't attack us.

Furthermore, we will need to find a second hideout, somewhere deeper into the

east of Mossflower. If ever Brockhall is discovered, another refuge will be

very necessary."

Messengers were sent out to find Chibb, and the wood-landers set about erasing

the tracks around Brockhall, while Germaine and her mice tended the wounded

with dedicated care.

The memory of the murderous ambush still lingered.

Lady Amber was not one to forget.

Neither was Skipper.

Before noon, Chibb had reported back to the Corim, but the news was not good.

"Er, ahem. Very serious, very serious. It seems that this fox Bane is an

expert, a mercenary with a band of about

266

sixty. Harrumph. 'Scuse me. Evidently they are planning another ambush, as

deep as they can get into Mossflower in one early morning march. Tomorrow,

they plan to set out at dawn in a skirmish line, killing or capturing all

before them."

Columbine held up her paw. "Then we must not give them any targets. Everyone

should stay here, completely out of sight, in case Brockhall is discovered."

Bella nodded approvingiy. "I second that. Good thinking, Columbine. Are we all

agreed?"

There was a low murmur of assent. Nobody noticed the look that passed between

Amber and Skipper.

In the early afternoon, Bella left command of Brockhall to the Abbess and

Columbine. Alone, the badger set out eastward into the woodland depths to find

a second place of refuge.

267

37

Martin woke feeling pleasantly fresh. He opened his eyes to see Boar

supervising the laying of a beautiful breakfast table. Hares were wreathing

flowers across the board; the food they brought had been grown in small

gardens dotted about the landward side of the mountaintop. Boar had small

rosebuds and sweet peas twined in his beard, and a garland of ivy leaves sat

on his head. The huge badger looked like some benevolent spirit come down from

the mountain, holding a green wand in his paw.

Pointing to a high arrow window that streamed down golden sunlight on him, he

boomed out to the waking travelers, "Welcome to Salamandastron on the first

day of a new summer!"

Young Dinny's heart leaped at the sight of Boar and the mention of his

favorite season. "Burrhoourr, oi dearly loiks summertoid, Zurr Bowar!

During a fabulous meal in which all took part, they were introduced to the

other hares who lived in the mountain. Besides Trubbs, Wother and Ffring there

was also Harebell, Honeydew and Willow, three doe-eyed beauties who could

render Trubbs and company speechless with a single flutter of their eyelashes.

There were four others, a huge fellow named Buffheart, his wife Lupin and

their two young ones, Starbuck and Breeze.

"These hares are my eyes and ears," Boar explained. "I

266

can stretch out my paws through them and feel what is going on for miles

around. They are also fearsome fighters. Yes, every one of them. Don't let

silly talk and pretty eyes fool you. They'll show you later. As for the

present, they'll take your friends off and show them something of this

mountain we live on. Martin, will you come with me? I would talk to you

alone."

The warrior mouse followed the silver badger up through many caves, flights of

rock stairs and long passages. High up die pair went, into the topmost cave.

It was still warm from the heat of the forge. Martin looked out of a long open

window to see the beach below and the waters beyond, sparkling and glinting in

early summer sunlight.

"This is where you heard my voice when you were down on the shore last night,"

Boar whispered to him. "I must whisper now because if I were to raise my

voice, the echoes would deafen you."

Martin nodded, fearing to speak lest his voice did the same.

Boar smiled, patting the mouse warrior lightly. "You are wise beyond your

seasons. Now, do not be surprised by what I am going to show you. This is for

our eyes alone, Martin— we two warriors."

The badger went to the left wall between the entrance and the window, where

there was a long, deep crack that appeared to be a natural seam in the rock.

Setting his great blunt claws deep into the fissure, he began to pull.

Martin stood in awe at the frightening brute strength of Boar the Fighter.

Steely sinews and giant muscles bulged and strained as the badger pulled,

grunting quietly deep in his chest. Froth appeared on his jaws with the

exertion; still he pulled with might and main, platelike back paws set flat on

the rock floor, ponderous claws gouging at the bare stone. With a low rumble,

the entire wall started to swing outward.

Martin watched wide-eyed, paws and jaws clenched tight, willing the silver

badger to perform this great feat of strength. Boar set his shoulders against

one side and his paws against the other. He pushed hard, and the secret

doorway stood

wide open. Without a word they walked inside.

* * *

269

It was a narrow hall. One side of the wall was covered in minute carvings, the

other was smooth, whilst the far end was a rounded alcove. What Martin saw

there stopped him in his tracks so fast that Boar stumbled on him.

A badger in full armor was seated on a throne in the alcove! Martin felt

Boar's paw upon his back. "No need to be afraid, little friend." The badger's

voice was calm. "This is my father, Old Lord Brocktree."

Boar padded silently forward. He touched the armored badger reverently.

"I went questing for Salamandastron, just as my father did," he explained.

"When I found this place, he was still alive and well. He ruled here, and we

were happy together for many seasons. In the end he was called to the gates of

Dark Forest because of his great age. Now he is part of the legend of the

mountain, as he wished to be. I did this for him; this is his tomb." Boar gave

the armor a gentle rub; it glowed dimly. Walking back to the entrance, he

called Martin over.

"Let us start at the beginning. See here?" Boar indicated a carved line of

badger figures. "Our kind have come here since creatures first felt the sun.

Only warriors, the brave of heart and strong of will, are listed here. See:

Urthnin the Chipper, Speariady Gorse, Bluestripe the Wild, Ceteruler . . . the

list goes on and on. Look, here is my father, Lord Brock-tree; here I am, next

to him. There are the spaces for those to come after us. I see you wish to ask

me a question. Carry on, Martin. I release you from your silence."

Martin did not need to speak; he pointed at a block of picture carvings set

apart from the others.

"They are good likenesses of you, I think," Boar whispered.

The scene was a small frieze depicting the activities of four creatures. Three

were intentionally small, but the fourth was unmistakably Martin, even to the

broken sword about his neck. Boar looked at Martin with a strange expression

on his face. "Friend, believe me, I did not carve these pictures here, nor did

my father. How long they have been here, I do not know. I accept it as part of

the legend of Salamandastron; you must, too. You are the largest figure, and

here are your friends. See, here you are leading them toward the mountain.

Here is Salamandastron, and here are you again, emerging

270

from it with your friends. You no longer carry the broken sword about your

neck; you are holding a bright new sword. As for the rest, well, your guess is

as good as mine."

Martin studied the picture closely. ' 'Here is the sea, there is a ship . . .

Over here looks very faint. It could be a group of trees, a wood or a forest.

This looks like a whip and an arrow. What does that mean, Boar?**

"Your eyes are far better than mine, Martin. The whip is the scourge of the

sea rats, a sign of evil. As for the arrow, which way does it point?"

"Down the hall to where your father sits."

Boar indicated the room of echoes. "Martin, you must go out there and wait for

me."

Without question, Martin went, glancing backward once, to see Boar stooping in

the alcove behind Lord Brocktree's throne. He was studying something carved

low down on the wall.

Sometime later the badger emerged. He seemed older and tired-looking, and

Martin felt concern for his friend.

"Are you all right, Boar? What was written there?"

The great silver badger whirled upon Martin, his face a mask of tragedy.

"Silence! Only Boar the Fighter must know that!"

The sudden shout caused a thousand echoes to boom and bounce off the walls

with startling intensity. The sound was deafening. Martin threw himself to the

floor, covering both ears with his paws as he fought against the flooding

crescendo of noise, Boar's voice reverberated like a thousand cathedral bells.

Sorrow and contrition ceased the big badger's face; he swept Martin up with a

single paw, bearing him swiftly from the room.

When the warrior mouse recovered, he was lying back in the badger's cave. Boar

was bathing his brow with cool water.

"Martin, forgive me. I forgot to keep my voice down. Are you hurt?"

Martin stuck a paw in his ear, wiggling it about.

"No, I'm all right. Honestly I am. You mustn't blame yourself. It was my

fault."

Boar shook his head in admiration. "Spoken like a true

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warrior. Rise up, Martin, and follow me. Now I will give you the means to

fight like one."

Trubbs, Wother and Ffring met them at the forge. There was lots of giggling

and winking between the hares.

"Well, does he know about you-know-what, eh, Boar?"

"I say, let's show it to him now, Boar. Be a sport."

"Yes, otherwise the poor old bean might keel over with suspense."

There was a twinkle in Boar's eye as he turned to Lupin, the wife of

ButTheart.

"What d'you think, Lupin? Is he ready for this?"

Lupin waggled her long ears humorously as hares do.

"Oh, I suppose so. Anyhow, we'll soon find out."

Boar had moved to the edge of the forge and was toying with something wrapped

in soft barkcloth.

"While you slept last night, my hares and I worked until after dawn had

broken," he said at last. "I have made something for you, Martin."

The warrior mouse felt the hairs rising on the back of his neck. He gulped

with excitement as Boar continued.

"One night while out on patrol, our Lupin here saw a star fall from the sky.

She found the spot where it landed. A lump of hot metal was buried deep in the

sand. When it cooled she dug it out and brought it back to me. Last night I

put sea coal and charcoal in my forge; more than ever before, I made

Salamandastron glow so hot that it could be seen in lands far across the sea.

I had to—half the night had gone before the metal became soft. I hammered it

out, oiled it, folded it many times against itself on my anvil, all the time

reciting the names of every great warrior I had known or could think of. I

spoke your name on the final hammer blow. Here, Martin. This is yours."

Everyone gathered round, including the three travelers, who were back from

their tour of the mountain. They held their breath as Martin carefully

unwrapped the barkcloth, layer by layer.

It was the sword!

Double-edged, keener than a razor, it lay glittering and twinkling, a myriad

of steely lights. Its tip was pointed like a mountain peak in midwinter, the

deadly blade had a three-

272

quarter blood channel. It was perfectly balanced against the hilt, which had

been restrapped with hard black leather and finished with a ruby-red pommel

stone and curving scrolled crosspiece where it joined the marvelous blade.

Never in his wildest dreams had Martin imagined such a thing. Since they left

Mossflower on the quest, he had more or less forgotten the broken hilt that

hung about his neck. Caught up in the adventures and perils they had been

through, he had used whatever he had to—a sling, a piece of wood as a

stave—never expecting to see his father's sword restored to a newness that far

outshone its humble beginnings. Now, suddenly, he felt the warlike blood of

his ancestors rising at the sight of a fighting weapon few were chosen to look

upon, let alone own. The feeling of destiny lay strong upon him as he picked

up the fascinating weapon in one paw. His hackles rose and the blood gorged in

his face, flashing across his eyes. Now he was the Warrior!

Everyone moved back to the walls as the warrior mouse took his sword in both

paws. He held it straight out, letting the point rise slightly to feel the

heft of the weapon. Suddenly Martin began sweeping it in circles, up, down,

and around. The steel blade whooshed and sang eerily on its own wind, the

bystanders followed its every move as if hypnotized. Martin leaped onto Boar's

anvil, still swinging his sword. There was an audible ping as he sliced the

tip from the anvil horn. It ricocheted oft the rock walls. They ducked

instinctively as it hummed past like an angry wasp, leaving the singing blade

unmarked.

"Tsarmina, can you hear me?" Martin roared out above the voice of the howling

blade. "I am Martin the Warrior. I am coming back to Mossflowemrrrrrrr!''

273

An hour before dawn, Brogg was rubbing sleep from his eyes. He flopped his

Thousand Eye Captain's cloak about him and stumbled into the main billet with

Ratflank. They kicked at prostrate forms, pulling tattered blankets from

sleeping soldiers.

"Come on, you lot," they ordered. "Up on your paws. It's invasion time again."

Grumbling and protesting, the troops sat up, scratching at their fur, wiping

paws across eyes.

"Gaw! I was bavin* a lovely dream there."

"Huh, me too. I dreamed we were getting a proper hot breakfast."

"You'll be lucky, bucko. Bread and water, and be glad of it."

"Where's this fat of the land we're all supposed to be living off? That's what

I'd like to know."

Ratflank kicked out at a huddled form wrapped in sacking. A rawboned fox

wearing brass earrings leaped up.

"Keep your stupid paws off me, lumphead," he snarled. "I'm not one of your

dimwit soldiers. We only take orders from Bane."

Ratflank hurried away, narrowly dodging the bared yellow fangs.

Bane and Tsarmina paced restlessly about in the entrance hall. The fox banged

his paw against a doorpost.

274

"What's keeping them?" he asked impatiently. "It'll be noon by the time we get

going at this rate."

Tsarmina gritted her teeth, turning, she screeched toward the barracks,

"Brogg, Ratfiank, get them out here double quick, or I'll come in there and

move you myself!"

The first bunch came tumbling out, adjusting tunics, clattering shields on

spears.

"Here's mine. Where's your crew, Bane?" Tsarmina smirked.

Moments later, Bane's mercenaries strolled casually out in the rear of the

uniformed soldiers. The fox commander struck his curved sword against a shield

until he got order.

"Right, you lot. Same drill as yesterday—skirmish line, comb the woods, keep

your eyes peeled and your wits about you. When we find them, remember: no

mercy!"

The horde moved out toward the parade ground in the courtyard. As the first

half-dozen soldiers passed through the doorway into the open, there was a

harsh shout from the woodland fringe.

"Fire!"

A hiss of vicious weaponry cut the air. The six soldiers fell in their tracks,

cut down by arrows and javelins.

"Retreat, retreat, get back inside, quick!" Bane ordered hastily.

There was panic as the back ranks coming forward stumbled into the front ranks

retreating. More troops fell, transfixed by flying death.

"What's going on out there?" Tsarmina yelled at Bane.

Bane stood panting with his back to the wall.

"They've got us bottled up in here. Wait a moment. Badtail!"

The rawboned fox came trotting up. "Here Bane."

"See what the position is out there. Pinpoint where they are and report back

to me."

Badtail lay flat upon his belly. Sliding around the doorposts, he scrambled

out onto the parade ground, tacking and weaving. Halfway across the courtyard,

he bobbed up and down, checking the trees and scanning the low bushes through

the open main gates.

"What d'you see?" Bane's voice rang across the open space.

275

Still lying flat, Badtail raised his head as he shouted back, "Squirrels and

otters. They've got the main gates open and they're shooting from the tr—"

An otter javelin closed his mouth forever.

Bane poked his head around the doorpost. An arrow hummed its way viciously

into the woodwork. He pulled back swiftly as two more buried their points in

the doorpost where his head had been.

Skippe. crouched behind a bush and signaled to Lady Amber, who was perched on

the low branches of an oak.

"Eleven down and plenty more to go," he reported.

\mber drew back her bowstring and let an arrow fly. 'Make * the round dozen.

Skip!"

Grim-laced and determined, the crews of bo A leaders tightened paws on

bowstrings, slings and javelins, waiting for the next head to show around the

doorposts of Kotir fortress.

Inside the building, confusion followed the panic of the initial attack.

Tsarmina dashed upstairs to her chamber, dashing back down again when a

fusillade of arrows greeted her through the open window. Bane sat at the foot

of the stairs.

"Fortunes of war," he said philosophically.

"Oh, burn them out, come down hard on them. I've seen it all before," Tsarmina

sneered. "Well, fox, what's your next move?"

"Is there another way out of here?"

* 'There's the scullery and larder entrance on the north side, but it's only a

small door."

"It'll have to do. Let's give it a try."

At the scullery and larder entrance the door was shut tight with rusted bolts

which took some considerable time to move. When it was finally opened, the

troops hung about reluctantly. Nobody seemed very keen on dashing out to do

battle. Bane prodded a Kotir soldier with his sword.

"Come on. You lot have got shields. Get out there!"

The stoat turned sullenly to Brogg. "He's not giving me orders. I've got six

seasons' service here. Him and his lot only arrived yesterday."

Tsarmina rushed up the corridor, thrusting creatures aside.

276

"Get out there, you and you,*' she ordered. "Form a barrier of shields the way

youVe been trained to do!"

Her word was final; there was no arguing with the Queen of the Thousand Eyes.

Three soldiers pushed their way out into the open, shields held up in front. A

slingstone cracked the middle ferret on his paw. He yelped with pain,

automatically dropping the shield. Arrows hissed in once more, reducing the

ranks by a further three.

High in a sycamore, Barklad fired off an arrow as he remarked to his

companion, "How long d'you think we can keep this up, Pear?"

Pear rubbed beeswax on her bowstring before answering.

"Lady Amber says until noon, then it'll be too late for them to go invading

Mossflower. Personally, I think we should encourage them to come out at noon,

then we could follow them back and pick them off in the evening."

Another squirrel swung in through the branches. "Are you two all right for

arrows?" he asked breathlessly. "Here's another quiver full. Give a call if

you're running low."

He swung off to the next tree with his supplies.

Bane tried every possible move, but at each new turn he was frustrated by the

deadly accuracy of the woodlanders. Every exit tried, be it window or door,

resulted in further loss of troops. The summer morning wore on, the high sun

above impervious to the dead that littered the courtyard.

Tsarmina came up with the most sensible suggestion to date. "Why don't we just

shut the doors and ignore them? With nothing to shoot at, they'll have to

leave."

Bane was glad of the solution. He would have mentioned it earlier, had

Tsarmina not been in such a towering rage.

Skipper was no mean climber. He stood on a low bough with Lady Amber. Together

they considered the problem of the doors that were slammed shut and the

bolted, wooden tables which had been placed across the open windows.

"Looks like a stalemate, Amber.*'

Lady Amber thwacked off an arrow at the closed door. "Cowards! They're very

brave attacking defenceless wood-

277

landers and killing unarmed creatures, but they can't face real warriors when

it comes to a battle."

Skipper looked up at the clear blue sky. "Ah well, second day of summer and

all's well, me old branchjumper. Come on. Let's withdraw and get back to

Brockhall."

A mischievous smile spread across the squirrel's face. "Right you are, Skip.

But not before I've left them with a small token of our regard."

Tsarmina sat eating woodpigeon with Bane in an inner room with no windows.

There was a tap on the door.

"Come in!" she called.

It was Ratflank.

"Milady, Brogg says to tell you that the woodlanders are setting fire to us."

"What?"

"Er, yes, Milady. Fire arrows. They're shooting them into the doors and window

shutters. Brogg says it'll be all right, though, 'cos it's a stone building

and they'll only bum the woodwork."

Tsarmina sprang up knocking the table sideways. "My chamber! Bane, see if you

can do something quickly. Organize a bucket chain. Put those fires out. If

theyVe touched my room I'll, I'll . . . oooooohhh!"

She dashed from the room, taking the stairs two at a time.,

The wall hangings were smoldering ruins and the door still blazed

merrily—Amber's archers had given it special attention.

"Get those buckets up here. Bring water!" Tsarmina howled down the stairwell.

"But we're trying to put out the fire at the front door, Milady," a dithering

voice called up from below.

*'I don't care what you're trying to put out! Get that water up here on the

double."

"What about the door, Milady?"

"Spit on it, for all I care. This is my room—the Queen's own chamber is on

fire. Hurry up, idiot."

"Idiot yourself!"

"Who said that?" she demanded.

278

39

"Place your paw flat upon the blade, grip the handle tight, hold the sword

flat above your head."

Thwang!

Martin countered Lupin's blade as Boar roared out instructions.

"That's how to block the downward chop. Now let go of die blade. Sweep it down

and under. Two paws on the haft, straight up and slice. Quickly, turn in and

slice again at head height."

It took Lupin all her skill to duck Martin's blade. She backed off, panting as

she leaned on her sword.

"Whew. Golly, there's not a lot you can teach this warrior."

"Can't I, though." Boar smiled. "Watch this!"

The badger picked up a fire iron from the forge. Thrusting one paw into his

blacksmith's apron, he adopted a ready stance.

"On guard, Martin," he called. "Go for a direct thrust."

Martin came on guard. Moving in swiftly to take the badger by surprise, he

lunged and stabbed forward.

Boar hardly seemed to move. With a flick of his fire iron he disarmed Martin,

sending the sword spinning and pinning Martin against the wall in the same

movement, the fire iron hovering a fraction away from the warrior mouse's

right eye.

"How did you do that?" Martin gasped with shock.

279

Trubbs and company were watching from the sidelines.

"Oh, he does it easily, old sport."

"No trouble to the jolly old boss."

"Quick as a wink, doncha know."

Boar laughed aloud. "It's only a trick, Martin. Don't get discouraged. I'll

show you a dozen more like it before this day's through. Pick up your sword,

on guard again."

This time the silver badger ducked in under die blade, catching Martin's sword

paw. Locking the point with the flat of the fire iron, he flattened the

warrior mouse against the wall with the edge of the sword across his throat.

"See, just another bit of trickery."

That second day of summer, Martin learned more of swordplay than in his whole

life. Nobody was more adept with a blade than Boar the Fighter.

Dinny, Log-a-Log and Gonff tried jointly to lift Boar's own sword, but they

could hardly manage to get the big battle blade off the floor. It was immense,

a real full-grown male badger's war sword, with double crosstrees and a

ripping edge that had two sets of curved prongs halfway down die length of the

extra-wide blade.

Boar performed tricks with it, slicing apples in the air and taking a

whiskertip from Lupin as she stood stock-still. Martin noticed that the

badger's mood became more light-hearted and jovial when he was around weapons,

even allowing himself to be flattered by Harebell, Honeydew and Willow, who

imitated Trubbs and company by speaking alternately.

"Ooh, you are clever, Boar old chap."

"And strong. My word!"

"We ladies would never be able to lift your big heavy sword."

Three special daggers had been forged for Gonff, Log-a-Log and Dinny, who wore

them proudly about their waists. Gonff delighted the occupants of

Salamandastron with his impromptu ballads.

Harebell, Honeydew and Willow, Each a pretty thing; Bold, brave and fearless,

Wother, Trubbs and Ffring; Lupin, Buffheart, Starbuck, Breeze,

280

Swift as winds across the trees; Rule o'er land and sea herefrom,

Sala-manda-stron.

Harebell and company fluttered their eyelids madly.

"Oh, Mr. Gonff, you are clever."

"And so handsome, too."

"You have a lovely voice."

Gonff waved a modest paw. "Save it for Trubbs and company, ladies. I'm

promised to my Columbine."

"Is she pretty?"

"Very pretty?"

"Prettier than us?"

"Well, she's certainly prettier than Gonff," Martin, Dinny and Log-a-Log

chimed in impudently.

"I'd say half as pretty again."

"Oi'd say twoice as pri'ee, hurr hurr."

Boar roared with laughter and raised his battle sword. "Cheek, shall I chop

off their heads, Gonff?"

The mousethief flushed scarlet beneath his fur. "No, just their legs will do,

Boar. They need their mouths to eat and make silly remarks with."

To ease Gonff's embarrassment, Buffheart beckoned the friends.

"Have you seen our fire lizard?"

"Fire lizard? No," Gonff chipped in quickly. "Let's go and have a look!"

They followed Boar and the hares, trooping up more flights of stairs until

they were somewhere near the echo cave. Buffheart took them into a side cave

that had a big open window slot. By the side of the window lay a great stone

carving of a fearsome head, a grotesque parody of what its maker had imagined

a dragon should look like.

"Nobody knows how it came here," Starbuck said, stroking it fondly. "Sometimes

Boar lifts it up to the window at night and lights a fire in its mouth to

frighten off the sea rats."

Boar exerted his great strength and picked up the stone head. "Yes, I put it

about here, facing out to sea."

He rested the head on the window sill, then went strangely

281

quiet. Boar the Fighter stared hard to seaward. The rest joined him at the

window to see what it was.

Halfway between the skyline and the shore, a ship was sailing in toward land.

It was a large black galley with double oarbanks and twin square-rigged sails.

At the tip of the prow was the bleached skull and fin of some large sea fish,

standing out like a figurehead.

Boar whispered a single chilling word.

' 'Bloodwake!''

He was oblivious of all about him, remaining with his gaze riveted on the

craft in the water.

Martin turned to Lupin. "Is that Ripfang's ship?" he asked.

She nodded distractedly, pulling at Boar's heavy paw. "Come away, Boar,

please. Can't you see he's taunting you again?"

The silver badger shook her off and dashed through to the echo cave.

Even though they shielded their ears, they could hear Boar in the other room,

roaring out like thunder at the vessel, "Ahoy, Bloodwake. Ripfang, are you

there? This is Boar the Fighter. Why don't you show your rotten hide near my

mountain again? How about tonight? I'll be waiting, seascum!"

As they watched, a red flag embellished with a scourge was hauled to the

foremast peak. It dipped up and down twice.

Buffheart's teeth ground angrily together. "He'll be here, make no mistake

about that."

Boar strode heavily in from the echo cave, stretching himself up until his

head brushed the ceiling. He gave a huge sigh of satisfaction then recited

aloud,

The second night of summer, The second visit since spring, The rat from the

seas Meets the Lord of the rock, To settle everything.

Martin saw the wild light of battle in Boar's eye. "Then you're going to fight

Ripfang tonight?" he surmised.

Boar departed from the cave, calling as he went, "No, I'm going to kill him!''

282

They pursued him down the stairs to the forge hall. Taking a rough file, the

badger began putting a slashing edge to his war sword.

The happy time was at an end.

Martin picked up his own sword. "We're coming with you, Boar."

The badger shook his head. "No. This is not your fight. This one was written

long ago on the wall behind my father. It must be."

Martin was obdurate. "Say what you like. Boar. When night falls, I'll be there

at your side."

"Aye, and I."

"Me too."

"I'm coming with you."

"And me, matey." " "Boi 'okey, an' oi too."

"Count me in, old chap." 'j "Rather, what ho!"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, what?" . Boar put the file aside. "So be

it. Come if you feel you Imust, and thank you, my friends. But you, Buffheart,

and

-j you, Lupin—you must remain here with your young ones. '•The fires must be

kept burning, you understand?"

Buffheart nodded, biting his lip so fiercely that a trickle of blood coursed

from the side of his mouth.

"As you say, Boar," Lupin spoke for both of them.

*- The silver badger stood with his paws resting on the top crosstree of

his sword, every inch the commander.

"The rest of you, listen to me. No matter what happens, you must obey the

warrior's code. I give the orders, no one else. I know it may be difficult for

you to understand, but you must trust me completely. If you obey me, then you

are my true friends; disobey, and you are my enemy. Do you understand what I

say?"

The heads nodded in silence. ' Boar hung the great sword back on its wall

spikes.

"Good. Now go and rest," Boar told them. "But first see ; to your weapons and

eat.' * ; When they had gone, Martin lingered awhile with Boar.

•: "That verse you spoke," he said curiously. "It was writ-.ten on the

wall. Did you recite it all?"

V

283

Boar shook his head. "Not all. The last lines are only for me to know. Once

again, Martin, thank you. It will be good to have a real warrior at my side

tonight."

They clasped paws, the mouse's dwarfed by the badger's.

"Good luck, Boar, my friend."

"Luck has little to do with fate, Martin. You follow the warrior's star. Be

true to yourself and your friends."

So the creatures of Salamandastron lay down to rest, each one with their own

thoughts.

The second glorious day of summer rolled on toward night.

The black ship Bloodwake sailed closer with every wave.

284

Bane had an idea.

"Now that the woodlanders have gone," he suggested cunningly, "why don't we

sneak out of Kotir and hide ourselves in the bushes at the edge of the forest?

We could hide right behind the position they held this morning. That way,

we'll be able to turn the ambush on them if they come back tomorrow for

another dawn attack."

"Huh huhuhu, good idea, fox," Brogg chuckled encouragingly.

Tsarmina turned a frosty stare upon the Captain; the chuckle died to a gurgle

in his throat. Near open enmity was the order of the day now between her and

Bane. She was sorry she had ever let him and his band inside her gates.

"Fool, Brogg," she snarled. "Can't you see this fox only wants us out of Kotir

so that he and his raggedy band can slip in behind our backs?"

Bane spread his paws wide disarmingly. "Hoho, if that's what you think, lady."

"Yes, that's exactly what I think, fox!" Tsarmina snapped back.

"That's a problem easily solved." Bane shrugged. "You stay in here with your

deadhead Captain; I take the forces out into the woods. In fact, I'll take

them tonight, so that we can be well hidden by the time the woodlanders

arrive."

285

Tsarmina sniffed. "That's a better idea. I'll agree to that, Bane."

The fox laughed. He drew his sword and held it out. "Think you can trust me,

or would you like to confiscate my sword?"

Tsarmina's eyes slined dangerously. "If I take that sword, 1*11 take your head

with it, fox."

Bane sheathed the sword and spat, ' 'If you ever try to take my sword, it'll

be your head that comes off, cat."

"We shall see."

"Aye, we shall see."

Chibb saw, too. He heard all as well.

A swift flutter of his wings took him out across Moss-flower, back to

Brockhall.

Foremole was pacing around in deep leaf mold with Old Dinny. They were trying

to remember the exact location of a disused tunnel.

"Thurr it may be. Moind, oi only sez maybe."

"No, tis yurr. Oi'd swurr on moi tunnel it's yurr."

"Nay, may'ap it's midway 'twixt they two."

"Wo urrhoops, urthenquaker. Look out!"

The ground beneath them trembled and heaved. Both moles were tipped flat on

their bottoms in the loam.

Soilflyer's head popped out of the ground. He blew dead leaves from his snout,

grinning broadly.

"Hurr, good morrow to 'ee, zurrs," he called cheerfully. "Us'ns found that

crossways tunnel as used to be yurr."

Foremole tried hard to preserve his dignity. "Thurr 'ee be, Owd Din. Oi did

tell 'ee it wurr thurr."

"Oo, fer a 'spectable Foremole, 'ee be a gurt fib bag!"

Soilflyer pulled himself free of the loam, followed by Urth-claw and Billum.

They tugged their snouts in mock respect to their elders, Billum stifling a

bass giggle.

"Ow summ of these owd lads do enjoy loif, a-setten about playen in 'ee leaves

loik liddle 'ogs, it do surproise oi."

Foremole shook a stern claw at Billum. "Lessen thoi cheek. Get 'ee over to

Brocken'all an git 'ee vittles."

Over at Brockhall, things were running smoothly. The little ones played games

with Columbine and Goody, while the

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Abbess helped Ben Stickle and her mice to fietch arrows, which they tied into

bundles. As deputy in Bella's absence, Abbess Germaine was not too pleased

that Skipper and Amber had disobeyed a Corim decision, but she made allowances

for the fact that they had lost friends in the ambush at the diggings.

Nevertheless, she felt it was her duty to upbraid diem.

"You had no right to go off like that after electing to stay here. Both of you

might have been killed."

Skipper was fishing pieces of hazel nut and leek out of a pan of stew that had

gone cold beside the hearth. Germaine rapped the table sharply with an arrow.

"Skipper of otters, are you listening to me?"

"Oh aye, marm, I'm all ears," he said abstractedly. "Are these last season's

nuts or the one before? Right nice sweet taste theyVe got."

The Abbess snorted in exasperation. "Now, I want you, both of you, to promise

me that you'll never do anything so foolish again. I'm surprised at you, Lady

Amber—you a squirrel Queen, too. That's not setting a very good example to

others, is it?"

Amber cocked her severed and bandaged ear stump toward Germaine.

"Eh, what's that you say?"

All three dissolved in helpless laughter.

Chibb arrived with the moles, saving the miscreants further scolding; reports

were made to the Corim leaders present. Ferdy and Coggs had arrived at a

decision to become warrior carpenter cooks, so they served refreshments for

everybody.

As they ate, the Abbess mulled over the situation. "Well, if the forces of

Kotir are hiding in the woods, it would be unwise for you two to try a repeat

performance of today's attack."

Skipper grinned broadly. "Why, perish the thought, marm. They'll be keeping

themselves busy, by the sound of it. We'll just let 'em lie uncomfortable like

out there all night, then they can shiver through the dawn waiting for us not

to turn up. What a damp squib."

Foremole banged the tabletop with one of Ferdy's biscuits. **Hurr, an' ifFen

they varments think us'ns stopped a-diggen,

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burr, they'm doant know moles. Us'll 'ave 'ee tunnels work-en agin afore

eventoid, mark/1

Bella of Brockhall had wandered far in search of a second hideout. If ever

Brockhall were discovered by the army of Tsarmina, it was imperative that the

woodlanders have a place of safety to flee to. The good badger was always

conscious of her responsibility to the woodlanders. She felt she must

undertake this search. Bella enjoyed the solitude of the far Mossflower

stillness after the close confines of Brockhall in the company of woodlanders.

By midday she was traveling east through vast tracts of field country. The

badger knew instinctively that the River Moss would be winding its way

somewhere near, and her good senses were confirmed in due course.

Bella seated herself on the bank of the broad swirling water. She did not

resist taking a short nap in the early summer warmth.

"Bella. Hey there, Bella of Brockhall!"

Hie badger sat bolt upright, blinking away her tiredness. Gingivere was

running towards her, and there was another cat with him, a sleek reddish

female.

The badger jumped up waving her paws joyfully.

"Haha, Gingivere, you old rascal, who's your friend?"

The female cat smiled and waved back.

"Oh, you are just as I imagined you, Bella," she said warmly. ' 'Gingivere has

told me all about you and his woodland friends. I'm Sandingomm."

They sat on the bank together as Bella brought them up to date with the news

and explained her mission. As she talked, Bella noticed how strong and happy

Gingivere looked. The reason why soon became apparent.

"Look at me, Bella. Would you believe it, I'm a farmer now. Yes, me,

Gingivere, son of Verdauga. WeVe got a nice little piece of land further up

the bank and the fishing is good in this river."

The badger was delighted. "Well, you certainly fell on your paws this time,

friend. Though you deserve it after all you've been through. Congratulations

to you both."

Sandingomm thanked Bella. "Anytime you please, you

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may bring the woodlanders to stay with us. This place is too for away for

Gingivere's wicked sister to find.''

Bella stood up. Dusting her coat off, she refused an offer to stay for lunch.

"I wouldn't dream of intruding on two such happy creatures any longer," she

said firmly. "Besides, I've got to get back to Brockhall and give them the

good news. Not only have I found a second hideout, but I have rediscovered our

friend Gingivere and made yet another new friend in Lady Sandingomm."

Gingivere smiled understandingly. "As you will, Bella of Brockhall. Give my

best wishes to all the woodlanders, and don't forget to tell Ferdy and Coggs

to visit Uncle Gingivere and Aunt Sandingomm sometime."

"Oh I will, never fear," Bella assured him. "Thank you, ft's good to know that

we of the Corim have two great friends always ready to help."

The badger set off westward, back toward the leafy glades , of Mossflower in

the noonday sun.

"Goodbye, Bella of Brockhall. Good luck to you," the cats called after her.

, "Thank you. Take good care of each other now. Goodbye, fcurner Gingivere.

Goodbye, Lady Sandingomm."

289

Night had fallen over Salamandastron.

The war party climbed down the roof ladder onto the sand. Gonff, Dinny and

Log-a-Log had been outfitted by the hares. They were helmeted and armed with

long pointed pikes, smaller versions of the arms carried by fighting hares.

Martin looked around, checking out the company. There were Trubbs, Wother and

Ffring, Harebell, Honeydew and Willow, his three traveling companions and Boar

the Fighter. The silver badger towered above them all, looking fearsome enough

to chill the blood of any sea rat's veins. He wore heavy spiked armor across

his back and front, topped off with a shining metal headpiece that came

forward into a badger war mask.

Boar pointed his great war sword up at Buffheart as he gave final orders.

"Make sure you pull that ladder back up safe, slide a rock over the entrance

hole and don't open it to any creature."

"But supposing you want to get back in again, Boar?" Starbuck asked, gazing

down from behind his father.

The badger chuckled drily. "Don't worry, Star. A short climb and a rock slab

won't stop me."

Lupin appeared at the opening. "Breeze is at the forge sobbing herself silly.

Will you be all right, Boar?"

The badger did not look up. "I'm fine, Lupin. You're the strong one. You know

what to do."

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"I do, Boar."

"Good. Then come on, you lucky lot, follow me. We're going to a party with

some sea rats."

As they moved off, Gonff nudged Dinny. "What a happy badger. He seems to get

merrier when he's closer to a battle."

"Urr, wishen oi did," Young Dinny gulped. "Moi young paws be all of

a-trimble."

"I'm glad I haven't got that trouble, Din," Gonff giggled nervously. "Mine

froze solid with fright some time ago."

Iii silent file they made their way out to the shore, keeping close to the

rock face. The party halted when they stood with their backs to the mountain.

It was deserted, though Blood-wake bobbed at anchor close to the land.

Trubbs twitched his whiskers. "Don't like this at all, chums. Not one little

bit."

"I'll second that, laddie."

"Thirds for me, old scout, wot?"

Gonff peered toward Bloodwake. "Maybe they're still on board."

Log-a-Log gripped his pike tighter. "No, mate. She's rid--ing too high in the

water for that."

"Log-a-Log's right," Martin whispered to Boar. "What do you think?"

"Oh, they're here, somewhere," Boar chuckled softly. "I Can smell the stink of

sea rat fouling up my territory. Trubbs, you take the left. Harebell, around

the mountain to the right. See if you can spot anything."

The hares slipped off like sand on the breeze. "Look, mere's a small band of

'em," Boar exclaimed, pointing straight ahead. "Been lying low where the waves

lap the sand. Ha, they don't fool me. There's some kind of ambush being rigged

up around here, but don't worry, we'll be ready."

Trubbs and Harebell arrived back at the same time. "Boar, Ihey're around the

back of the mountain, hordes of them!"

"Harebell's right. I saw 'em too, all skulking in the shadows."

Boar remained calm. "Huh, Ripfang seems to be using his brains more and his

mouth less these days. They must have dropped off further up the coast and

come overland, circling

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to get behind us. I told you that band up ahead was only a blind."

Dinny gave a hoarse shout. "Look out! Yurr they'm a-cummen!"

From both sides of the mountain they filtered out in a swift pincer movement.

Trubbs' estimate was right: there were hordes of them. Martin watched in

silence as they formed a semicircle. He had never seen so many sea rats.

Villainous faces, wreathed by black headbands and adorned with brass earrings,

snarled at them. Strange sickle-shaped swords with small round target shields

were brandished high. Daggers and whips bristled where there were no swords.

Martin thanked the fates that there were no archers.

Boar stood forward smiling hugely, leaning idly on his battle blade. "Well,

well. The gang's all here. Where's old snot-whiskers? ''

The ranks parted, allowing two standard bearers carrying sea rat banners to

come through. Standing between them was a rat, half as big again as any of the

others, carrying a sickle sword and a long whiplash. A single fang grew

overlong from the left side of his mouth, giving his face a grotesque sneer.

"Here I am, mountain Lord. We have you surrounded and ready to die."

Boar did not give the courtesy of a reply. He whirled his giant war sword

aloft and charged with a thunderous battle-cry.

" Yoooohaaarrraallaayleeeeee!!!"

Both sides surged forward, meeting with a crash of steel upon the churning

sands.

Martin felt the madness of combat searing through his veins. He leaped and

struck, hacked and thrust, stabbed and slashed like a flash of hot summer

lightning. Shields were shorn through by his flying blade, sea rats went down

before him like corn to a reaper. They crushed inward, swinging their sickle

swords. Dinny took a gash upon his shoulder. He was about to go down when

Trubbs heaved a squealing rat high upon his pike, tossing him onto the blades

that menaced Dinny. Gonff had lost his pike, but he went at them with a dagger

in each paw, flailing like a windmill, up, down, across, over, his fear

forgotten in the boiling melee of battle. Firing was hemmed in on all sides,

his bobtail shorn off; but Wother

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and Log-a-Log came vaulting over the sea rats' heads on their pikes to save

the beleaguered hare. Jabbing left and right, they were joined by Harebell.

Foursquare back to back they fought, turning in a ferocious circle, spearing

and ripping like a carousel of doom.

The rats on the tideline had begun to move. Boar swung low at the feet of his

enemies. As they jumped, he carried the sweep high, the immense war sword

slicing through at head level. Blood-spattered, pierced by steel in a dozen

different places, he fought on, oblivious to his wounds, trying to reach

Ripfang, who stood at the back urging on his sea rats.

"Come to me, Ripfang," the silver badger chanted as he battled. "Meet Boar the

Fighter. I am the son of Old Lord Brocktree, ruler of Mossflower, Chief of the

mountain. My blade is singing your deathsong. Let Boar take you and your

vermin crew to the gates of Dark Forest this night. The summer sun cannot

stand the sight of you darkening the earth!"

Now the rats packed in harder at Ripfang's command. The roiling mass of

enemies seemed endless. Martin and his comrades wiped sweat and blood from

their eyes as they battered heroically away at the tide of sea rats which

threatened to engulf them.

The warrior mouse found himself back to back with Boar. "Boar, we're

hard-pressed and outnumbered," he yelled over die noise of war. "It'd take us

all season to slay this pack, even if they stood in line and waited."

The silver badger made a rat into two half-rats with his sword. "I know,

little warrior. I told you this was my fight. I'm sorry I got you into it."

Martin extinguished a spitting face with his blade. "Not your fault, Boar. It

was written."

The badger used his sword hilt to pulp a rat who came too near. "Listen,

Martin. Get the crew around you. I'm going to force a way through, then we'll

run for it. There's only that single group standing between us and Bloodwake.

Are you ready?"

It took a few moments in the battle until Martin had mustered his comrades in

a group. There was a momentary lull as they stood ringed on all sides by sea

rats.

Like chain lightning, Boar made his move with a furious

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charge. The mad onslaught carried them forward to the edge of the horde.

Hewing ceaselessly, Martin and the rest broke through. They began running

toward the small advancing band of sea rats.

Pikes clashed with sickle swords as they met. The astounded vermin were so

taken aback by the ferocity of the attack that they broke and scattered.

Rushing onward, the friends made the water's edge.

Honeydew looked back. "We've left Boar behind!"

"No, he never came with us."

"Let's go back."

"Stay!" Martin's shout was a cold command.

They turned to stare at the warrior mouse.

"Remember your orders from Boar. Do as he said; it is the way of the warrior.

Boar has seen his own fate written, there is nothing we can do to stop it. We

must capture that ship."

They slid into the surf with the sounds of battle still ringing in their ears.

There was only a token watch left aboard to guard the galley slaves. They

leaped overboard at the sight of the roaring fighters who sprang dripping to

the deck of Bloodwake.

Panting with exertion, Martin turned to Log-a-Log, "Get this vessel under way

with all speed!''

The shrew rapped out commands to the new crew. "Slash that anchor cable. Hoist

those sails. Martin, take the tiller-steer her out to deep water. You below,

row for your lives if you want to taste freedom again.''

Pushing the tiller over, Martin felt Bloodwake respond. She turned on the

ebbing tide with a stiff breeze at her stern, riding the waves out toward the

open sea. The rest of them joined him as he stared over the after end, across

the smooth wake to the shore.

The silver badger's voice carried to them on the wind.

"Sail away, my warriors. Tell Bella and Mossflower of Boar the Fighter. Come

closer, sea rats. Let my blade kiss you to sleep. Ah, Ripfang, my old enemy,

got you! Now I embrace you as a friend. See."

They watched as Boar went down under a mob of sea rats who were howling and

screaming. The badger wielded his

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sword with a single paw, the other mighty paw held Ripfang close to his

studded metal armor, crushing him to death.

Martin turned away, blinded by tears. He could look no more.

Nor could his companions.

Before them lay the deep open sea. Behind them, the flames of Salamandastron

burned bright over a shore piled and littered with dead and wounded sea rats.

The spirit of Boar the Fighter lingered on the sands, reluctant to leave a

good battle and travel to the gates of Dark Forest.

The silver badger had seen the writing on the wall. He had fulfilled the

legend of the mountain!

Tsarmina and Bane watched each other like pike eyeing a water beetle, the

wildcat Queen from her high window, Bane from where he crouched shivering with

the troops, drenched in morning dew, completely dispirited after a fruitless

night spent in the forest. The rift was widening between cat and fox.

Bane squatted in the wet grass beside Brogg.

"See how your Queen treats us? We shiver out here all night while she lies in

luxury, warm and snug."

Brogg squinted dully. "She always has. Milady is a Queen, you know."

Bane spat at a small insect. "If I ruled Kotir, the troops would get the same

treatment as me. Ask my crew. We always had plenty to eat. I never hid in

safety and let them take all the risks."

"Is that why you pushed them out of doors, in front of all those arrows and

javelins?" Ratflank sniggered.

Bane cuffed him soundly across the snout. "Who asked your opinion,

snivelwhiskers? I didn't notice you volunteering to dash out and fight those

woodlanders."

Brogg stood up, brushing dewdrops from his cloak. "Ah well, they won't be

showing up this morning. Wonder how they knew we'd be lying in wait?"

Bane winked and tapped his muzzle. "Maybe she got word to them. That way she

could have Kotir and the rations to herself. There's enough supplies in there

to keep one cat happy forever."

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Brogg scratched his chin. "Really? Do you think she'd do that?"

"Well, look at the evidence." Bane laughed mirthlessly. "From what I hear, the

garrison was in a right old mess before I arrived with reinforcements and

rations. They say she was acting strange. You should know—she had you pulling

tails and checking whiskers. What normal creature does things like that?"

As the force moved back to Kotir, Bane and Brogg were deep in quiet, earnest

conversation.

Tsarmina watched them from her high window. She also scanned the surrounding

treetops for signs that the eagle might be abroad. An idea was forming in the

wildcat's mind.

Later that morning, while Bane was supervising a team to replace the burned

door and window timbers, Tsarmina had Brogg come to her room. She fed him on

cider and roasted woodpigeon as she wormed information from him.

The weasel Captain told his Queen all.

Tsarmina resumed her position at the window, watching the telltale quiver of a

spruce top. When she turned to Brogg her voice dripped sincerity.

"You have been a good and loyal Captain, Brogg. Make no mistake, your Queen

will reward you. This fox forced his way in here while we were distracted by

the woodlanders. He countermands my orders and whispers lies about me to my

soldiers. Do you realize that if he had not barged his way in with his ragged

mob, I was going to promote you to act as Supreme General?"

"Me, Milady?" Brogg could hardly believe his ears.

"Yes, you. Say nothing of this to any creature, especially Bane. Let him carry

on repairing our woodwork. He thinks he will rule Kotir one day. You stick to

doing your job, Brogg. Keep my Thousand Eye soldiers loyal to me. As for Bane,

leave him to me. If he speaks to you, tell him that I wish to see him, up here

in my chamber."

"I will, Milady. You can trust me."

"I do, Brogg my good friend. Now go."

The weasel did not stop backing up and bowing until after he was outside the

room.

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* * *

By midafternoon most of the repair work was well under way. Bane strolled up

to the high chamber and slouched against the table where Tsarmina sat.

"Well, what d'you want me for now, cat?" he asked insolently.

Tsarmina pushed a beaker of elderberry wine across the table to Bane, and

poured one for herself.

"lb you, Bane. A good job well done on the doors and windows. I could not have

done better myself."

The fox watched carefully, not taking a sip of the wine until the wildcat had

drunk from her beaker.

"Why this sudden honor, Tsarmina? What are you up to?"

The wildcat Queen shook her head sadly. "How did we ever come to this mistrust

and enmity, Bane?" She pointed a dramatic claw to the open window. "Out there

is where the enemy is. The woodlanders are the ones we should be fighting, not

each other."

The fox took a mouthful of the rich dark wine. "I'll agree with that, but

what's brought about this sudden change? Tell me, if we are to trust each

other."

Tsarmina passed a weary paw across her brow. "Until you came, I had not won a

single victory over the woodlanders. Even when they attacked us yesterday you

did all you could, but still I did not trust you," she confessed. "I made you

wait out in the open all night and you never complained once. Today I looked

from my window and saw you helping your band to repair the damage to Kotir.

That was when I changed my opinion of you."

Tsarmina refilled Bane's beaker with wine. When she spoke again there was

something approaching a sob in her voice.

"Forgive me. I have misjudged you, Bane. You are a true friend."

The fox quaffed the wine, then took the liberty of pouring himself some more.

"You like the work that we are carrying out on the fire damage?"

Tsarmina pushed the wine jug so that Bane would not have to stretch when

reaching for it.

"Indeed I do. It's ten times better than my bumbling lot could have done," she

assured him.

297

Bane nodded agreement. "Aye, my band can turn their paw to most things.

They're still working round at the larder and scullery entrance."

"Good," Tsarmina said over her shoulder as she rummaged in a wooden chest.

"But what I'm worried about is the main gates between the courtyard and the

woodland edge."

The fox finished his wine, banging the beaker down decisively. "Right, let's

go and take a look at 'em, though I don't think they'll need much repair.

They're a solid old pair of gates."

Tsarmina produced a cloak from the chest. It was a long trailing garment made

from bright red velvet trimmed with woodpigeon feathers. Recently it had been

cleaned and brushed.

"I want you to take this cloak, friend," she insisted smilingly. "Wear it as a

token of our new alliance. \s you can see, it is not the plain cloak of a

Captain; this was made for a Lord."

Bane took the cloak. Twirling it round, he admired the color and weight of the

velvet. He swept it up, draping it around his shoulders. Tsarmina fastened the

clasp at his neck.

"There! How handsome you look. More like the Ruler of Kotir than I do."

Bane's paw stroked the feather edged velvet. "Thank you, Queen Tsarrnina. This

is a splendid cloak. Hoho, wait'll my gang see their leader decked out in his

finery. Come on, let's take a look at mat gate. '

There were many admiring and envious glances from Bane's mercenaries as he

strode across the courtyard.

"By the fang. Look at old Bane. What a fine cloak!"

"He certainly cuts a dash in it. I'll bet he's been promoted."

"Haha, he looks more like the Chief here than the cat does."

Brogg and Ratflank leaned out of the barrack room window. The weasel Captain

could not help remarking under his breath, "What d'you suppose the fox is

doing, wearing Ash-leg's cloak?"

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Dawn brushed pale streaks of pink and gold through the gray mist on the calm

sea waters.

Rasping sounds from a file could be heard on deck from the oarbanks below.

Gonff was freeing the slaves.

Martin and Dinny assisted the pathetic creatures onto the deck. Some of them

had not seen daylight in seasons. They were a mixed bunch, ragged shrews and

emaciated mice, together with some bedraggled hedgehogs and the odd gaunt

squirrel.

How could any creature treat another in this cruel manner? Martin wondered. It

made his blood boil as he tended them.

Dinny was doling out food from Bloodwake's well-stocked pantry. "Yurr, get sum

vittles down 'ee, us'ns fatten 'ee up."

Martin was supporting a tough mouse who seemed on the verge of collapse.

"Thank you, Martin son of Luke," he said, nodding gratefully at the young

warrior.

Martin's paws gave way. He sank to the deck of Blood-wake, taking his burden

with him. They sat staring at each other. Martin could find only one word to

say.

"Timballisto?"

Tears ran freely down the mouse's whiskers. "Martin, my friend."

A shrew who was gnawing at a ship's biscuit came and sat

299

by them. "Martin, the young warrior mouse, eh? Timballisto here was always

talking about you." Timballisto threw a paw about his friend's shoulder. "How

did you know I was aboard this floating rat trap?"

Martin hugged him. "I didn't, you old wardog. I thought you'd gone to the

gates of Dark Forest long ago, fighting enemies off outside our caves in the

northlands."

As they sat talking, Log-a-Log came from Ripfang's cabin aft. He was studying

some sailcloth charts. Immediately a great shout went up from the shrews who

had been freed.

"Log-a-Log! Chief, it's us, the old gang from the village!"

Preoccupied with something he had discovered among the maps, the Shrew Chief

waved distractedly to them. "Ha, hello, you lot. Well, eat up and get fit

again. The boss is back now. Told you I'd rescue you, didn't I."

Gonif heaved himself up from the galley banks below. "Whew, matey! It could do

with a good scrub down there. Hey, Log-a-Log, found some booty?"

The shrew spread charts upon the deck. "Look, it's all here—the way home."

Martin could make little of the charts. "Show me."

"Righto. It's simple really. See here, that's Salamandas-tron," Log-a-Log

explained. "Keep the setting sun to your left and follow the coastline until

we sight a river flowing into the sea from the right. It's the River Moss,

see, flowing from east to west."

Dinny's digging paw tapped the canvas. "Hurr, well oi never did, stan* on moi

tunnel! It be our river as flows thru Mossfl'er. Lookit, thurr be 'ee

woodlands marked up over yon. Burr, 'ee ratbag knowed it all."

Log-a-Log pinned the canvas down against a breeze mat was springing up.

"I'll say he did. That's how he came to capture my tribe. There's our village

marked up on the northeast fringes of Mossfiower. Banksnout, shin up the mast

and keep your eyes busy for the river flowing in from landward. Gonff, take

the tiller and hold it seaward a point to bring us closer into shore. Shrews,

break out all sail so we catch this good breeze."

Under the eye of the summer sun, Bloodwake scudded across the foaming white

caps like a great seabird. Timballisto leaned over the deckrail with Martin.

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"I wish I'd had the chance to meet Boar the Fighter," Timballisto sighed. "He

sounds like a great warrior, from what you say. What a pity he won't be coming

back to save Mossfiower.''

Martin drew his sword. He pointed it east toward the land. "It is my duty to

save Mossflower. I swore it to Boar and I intend keeping that oath."

Timballisto watched him as he held forth the beautiful blade. "You will,

Martin. You will!"

A hedgehog poked his head around the door of the forward cabins. "Ahoy,

there's a full armory here, lads—swords, spears, knives, everything an army

could wish for."

"Gurt loads o' vittles, too." Dinny chuckled. "Oi tell *ee, Gonffen, liddle

boats make oi sick, hurr, but this'n's a noice big shipper. Oi'll call *er

Wuddshipp. Harr, that be a foin name."

Gonff watched the forepeak respond to the tiller.

"Wuddshipp it is then, Din. Though personally I'd have named her Columbine."

Trubbs and company chimed in.

"I say, that's a bit strong, Gonff, old sailor."

"Has Columbine really got a wooden bottom?"

"And two ears that stick out like sails?"

They narrowly ducked the pail of seawater that Gonff hurled.

Banksnout roared out in a gruff shrew bass from atop the rigging, "Ahoy! River

in sight up north to landward!"

Martin climbed the bowsprit. He stood on the bleached fish skull figurehead,

looking eagerly.

Sure enough, there was the river, boiling across the shores in the distance.

He turned to the crowd of eager faces watching him.

"Take her head up and round the shore, Gonff. We're going home!"

Shrews, mice, hedgehogs, squirrels, hares and a single mole roared out in one

voice that rang across the waves,

"Mossflowerrrrrrr!!!"

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43

Argulor was awake.

Shifting on his high spruce perch, he glared down greedily through his old

watery eyes at the red-cloaked figure crossing the parade ground of Kotir.

"At last, pine marten!"

Tsarmina pushed hard against the gates. "See, they're rocking on their

hinges," she pointed out to Bane. "Those wood-landers have been meddling with

them, I'm sure of it."

Bane gave the gates a kick. "Do you think so? They seem solid enough to me.

Huh, even fire arrows didn't make much impression on these gates."

Tsarmina unbolted the locks. Opening the gates cautiously, she peered around

them at the woodlands. It was safe.

"All clear out here, but I don't like it. I'm sure theyVe done something to

these hinges from outside. Just think, if these gates blew down during the

autumn, we'd be at their mercy."

"Huh, I don't know what you're fussing about," Bane said, swirling his new

cloak impatiently. "The gates look all right to me."

Tsarmina gnawed her lip. "Are you really sure, though?"

The fox sighed in exasperation. "Oh, I suppose I'll have to go and take a look

to keep you happy."

He strode briskly outside.

302

Tsarmina dodged inside, slamming the gates and bolting them.

Bane was puzzled momentarily. "Hoi, what's the matter with you, Tsarmina?"

There was no reply. Tsarmina was racing across the parade ground to watch from

her high window.

Suddenly Bane sensed he had been tricked, but it was too late.

Argulor had already launched himself from his perch. He homed in on the

red-cloaked figure like a bolt from the blue.

On the other side of Kotir, Bane's mercenaries worked away on the scullery

door, blissfully unaware of what was taking place outside.

Bane did not see the eagle swoop; he was trying to find pawholds as he

clambered up the oaken gates.

Argulor struck him hard from behind, burying powerful talons and vicious

hooked beak in the prey that had eluded him for so long. The fox was

transfixed, frozen with cruel agony; but as the eagle started to carry him

off, Bane's fighting instincts took over. Freeing his curved sword, he struck

upward at the feathered enemy.

The sword hit Argulor, once, twice!

Doggedly the great eagle sank talons and beak deeper into his prey. Beating

the air with his massive wingspread as he did, both hunter and quarry rose

skyward.

Tsarmina at her window danced up and down in fiendish glee. Attracted by the

screams, the occupants of Kotir looked up. Bane slashed wildly with his sword;

Argulor stabbed madly with his beak. All the while the combatants rose higher,

and soon they were above the treetops.

Chibb fluttered in circles some distance away. He watched the amazing sight as

eagle and fox rose into the sky.

Far above Mossflower, Argulor won the battle. Bane gave a final shudder and

went limp, the curved sword falling from his lifeless paws. The ancient eagle

felt cheated; this was no pine marten, it was a fox. Argulor's heart sank in

his breast. It did not rise again. The rheumy eyes shut in the same instant as

the great wings folded in death, and only the talons remained fixed deep into

the dead fox.

303

Tsarmina watched as both creatures plunged earthward. Two enemies defeated in

a single brilliant stroke.

Ratflank dashed for the gate. Brogg shouted after him, "Where d'you think

you're off to?"

"Ha, to get that cloak, of course. That's a good bit of velvet. It can be

repaired, y'know."

"Get back here, frogbrain. See what happened to the fox-he wore the cloak.

D'you want the same thing happening to you?"

"Frogbrain yourself, dimwit. Can't you see the eagle's dead? Any creature can

wear that cloak now."

"Hoi! Don't you call me dimwit, droopy whiskers."

"I'll call you what I like, dimwit. Nitears! Fatnose!"

Tsarmina smiled inwardly, a third victory today. Now that she heard Ratflank

shouting she could identify the insolent voice that had often insulted her

from the protection of the ranks or the bottom of a curved stairwell.

Later that day, she instructed Brogg.

"Take Ratflank, and find the bodies of the eagle and the fox."

"Yes, Milady. Shall I bring them back here?"

"No, Brogg. Bury them."

"As you say, Milady."

"Oh, and Brogg ..."

"Yes, Milady?"

"How do you feel about that insolent Ratflank these days?"

"Oh, him. He's a cheekybeast, Milady. Called me lots of nasty names."

"Yes. Me too. How would you like to bury him with the fox and the eagle?"

"Huh huhuhuh," Brogg chortled. "Can I, Milady?"

"Yes, but not a word to any creature about it."

"Can I have the red cloak too, Milady?"

"Yes, if you want it."

"And Bane's curved sword, Milady?" Brogg pressed her.

"If you can find it."

"Where d'you think it fell, Milady?"

Tsarmina turned her eyes upward as if seeking patience. "Brogg, I wouldn't

know where the sword fell, or the eagle,

304

or the fox. Just get out of my sight and don't bother me with details." >

"But what about—Yes, Milady."

Urthclaw was first to reach the underground foundations of Kotir. Tunneling

steadily, he made his way along the under-ground wall until he met up with

Billum. Together they continued until they linked up with Soilflyer, who was

waiting for them.

"Burr, 'day to 'ee moles," he greeted them. "Foremole an' Owd Dinny be along

wi' tools soon, us'ns can brekk throo *ee rock then."

Lady Amber had sunk the floodgates at the other end of the tunnels, they were

to be lifted by rope hoists attached to rock counterweights over high

branches. Skipper and his crew had dug fresh tunnels from the river, sloping

down to meet the floodgates which separated them from the main tunnels. All

the workings had been shorn up with stone and timber. Foremole supervised the

removal of rocks from the foundations of Kotir. The moles pried away the soft,

damp stones with bars and chisels until they felt the cold fetid air on their

snouts. "Burr, oo, durty owd place needen a gurt barth, hur burr."

Shortly before nightfall, the moles climbed out of the tunnel workings, back

in Mossflower, where the woodlanders and Corim leaders had assembled. Bella

rolled three large rocks over the holes from which the moles had emerged.

Others moved in to pack the bungrocks firmly in with wood and soil.

Now everything was ready.

Between the lower depths of Kotir and the distant river in Mossflower Woods,

all that stood was three timber sluicegates.

Lady Amber laid her tail flat on the lower branches of a sycamore.

The woodlanders held their breath.

Skipper nodded to Foremole.

Foremole nodded to Bella.

Bella nodded to Amber.

The squirrel's tail rose like a starter's flag. There was a creaking of rope

pulleys as squirrels launched the rocks from

305

the high trees, riding down to earth on them, holding to the ropes. The

counterweights traveled fast, humming across the heavily beeswaxed branches.

The wooden floodgates made a squelching sound as they were pulled free of the

earth, then water began rippling through into the tunnels.

The flooding of Kotir had begun!

44

306

Driving Wuddshipp inland against the flow of the River Moss was a difficult

task.

All paws manned the oarbanks, and Martin sat alongside Timballisto.

"Phew! I never realized rowing was such heavy work," Martin groaned.

< "Pull, my friend, pull. It's twice as bad when you have to do it on

half-rations with a sea rat's whip cracking about your ;cars and you chained

to the oar.''

The vessel had been built for coast raiding. Though it was a large craft, it

had a flat bottom for taking shallow draught; fhus it was able to travel

upriver without a deep keel sticking in the shallows.

Inland they traveled, sometimes aided by a breeze when the sails were hoisted.

Other times saw two teams dragging her forward on headropes from the

riverbanks.

It took a day and a half of hard work to get across the flat beach and into

the dunes, where the river was tighter-channelled and flowed faster against

them. Log-a-Log solved the problem by using the long galley oars from the

deck. Two crew to each oar, they punted and pushed Wuddshipp through Ae dunes,

keeping her head upriver with great difficulty. Gradually the dunes gave way

to hilly scrubland and the sand began to disappear.

307

It was a weary crew that sat upon the bank that night, watching the ship

riding at anchor.

Gonff hurled a clod of earth at the fast-flowing water. "We'll never make it

this way, mateys. Why not abandon ship and march the rest of the way?"

Harebell and company smiled sweetly.

"Oh, you are a silly, Mr. Gonff. We must take the ship."

"The river flows back to the sea, you see."

"And we may need that to make a quick getaway if we are pushed."

Martin winked at Gonff. "The ladies certainly know their strategy. By the way,

has anyone seen Log-a-Log Big Club?"

As if in answer, the shrew strode up out the gathering gloom. "Aye aye. I've

been scouting ahead. Found the old village, too. Come on, you lucky lot.

There'll be a hot meal and a warm bed with a rpof overhead tonight. Bank

snout, you wouldn't recognize your little ones now—they're taller than me. Oh,

Martin, I forgot to tell you, we've gained another hundred able-furred

recruits."

Delight awaited them at the shrew village as families were reunited amidst

cheering and shouting.

"Daddy, Daddy, it's me, Emily, your baby shrewlet."

"Hoho, look at you! You're bigger than your mum."

"Sharptail, you said you were going for acorns. That was four seasons ago!

Where have you been?"

"Sorry, m'dear. Sea rats y'know. What's this, grandshrew babies?"

"Aye, you're a grandpa shrew now."

"By the fur! Here, give me a hold of that little fat feller."

* 'Gluggabuggaluggoo!''

"Haha. See, he knows me already."

The hares joined Martin and the others around a fire. Two plump shrews served

them with hot fruit pie, dandelion salad and bowls of fresh milk. Gonff sang

around a mouthful of hot pie,

O the Wuddshipp is a goodship, And we'll sail her anywhere, Rowed by mice,

crewed by shrews, And often steered by hare. 308

So hoist the anchor, loose the sails, Give me a wind that never fails, And

we'll sail the goodship Wuddshipp From here to old Brockhall.

He had to sing it twice again whilst the shrews danced a s hornpipe with the

hares.

As the fires burned low, they settled back with full stomachs and renewed hope

for the morn.

Martin and Timballisto slept side by side beneath the stars, each wrapped in a

colorfully woven shrew blanket.

Dinny dug a flatfish hole for the hares.

• "Oh, thank you kindly, Mr. Mole."

"Such charming manners and swift digging." :; "Ooh, and that beautiful

velvety fur and strong claws." ;- Dinny wrinkled his face and tugged his

snout, slightly em-, barrassed. "Burr, bless 'ee, baint nought but an owd

'ole, : missies."

The moon rose like a white china plate over the peaceful scene on the banks of

the River Moss.

-. Tsarmina faced the troops gathered in the large mess hall. She had

specially arranged the gathering by sending Bane's former mercenaries in

first; her own soldiers, led by Brogg >: in his red velvet cloak, ringed the

mercenaries by jostling them to the center of the floor. Brogg held up Bane's

curved ? sword for silence as the wildcat Queen addressed the assembly.

"Bane is dead. Those who served under him have nowhere left to go now. Move

from here, and you do it without sup-,;(, plies or weapons. Besides, those

woodlanders out there would take care of you in short order. Any creature want

to say something?" There was silence.

"Right," she continued commandingly. "From now on

; you take your orders from me. Brogg will see that you get

; rations and a billet each. Later I'll see about appointing more

officers and getting you some proper uniforms. Take over,

Brogg."

The weasel Captain stepped up, twirling his new sword. "All together now. Hail

Tsarmina, Queen of Mossflower!"

309

The response was less than enthusiastic.

Tsarmina made them repeat it until she was satisfied. "That's better. You can

learn my list of titles later."

They stood in awkward silence, not knowing what to do next. In the hush that

followed, Tfcarmina's ears rose visibly. Something was beginning to disturb

her.

"Dismiss, all of you. Brogg, you stay with me."

When the hall was emptied she turned to Brogg with haunted eyes.

"Listen, can you hear it?" she asked fearfully.

"I can't hear a thing, Milady."

"Listen! It's water, flowing, dripping, spilling somewhere. Ugh!"

Brogg gave careful ear. Suddenly he brightened up. "Haha. Yes, I can hear it

now, Milady. You're right. There is water about somewhere. Damp d'you think?"

The sound of water produced so distressing an effect upon Tsarmina that she

forgot to chide Brogg. She cowered in a corner, paws covering her ears to shut

out the dreaded noise. Flowing water, seeping water, creeping water, dark,

icy, swirling water!

"Brogg, quick, get as many troops together as you can," she ordered

desperately. "Find out where that water is coming from and stop it. Stop it!"

Brogg saw the terror on his Queen's face and fled the room.

The whole of the garrison searched high and low. But not too low; nobody,

including Brogg, was overkeen to venture beneath the cells. Down there it was

dark and cold; down there was the lake where Gloomer used to be kept.

And goodness knows what else!

That night, as T^armina sat huddled in her chamber, dripping water echoed in

her imagination, never letting up. When the fear of water was upon her, the

daughter of Verdauga was no longer Queen of Mossflower, Lady of the Thousand

Eyes or Ruler of Kotir.

She was reduced to a crazed, terrified kitten, trembling at the sound of

dripping water in the darkness, longing for

morning light to come stealing over the horizon.

* * *

310

Something had gone radically wrong with the flooding. Bella slumped in the

grass by the river with Skipper. "No joy, marrn?" he asked solicitously. "I'm

afraid not, Skipper. There seems to be only a trickle going down the tunnels."

Lady Amber joined the pair. "Aye, it seemed to be going , go well at first.

D'you think it's because it's summer and we haven't had much rain?" she

suggested. : Skipper chewed a blade of grass. "Maybe so. There's not .»lot

we can do about it, anyway."

; "Maybe we could dam the river?" Bella offered tentatively.

- "Impossible, marm," the Skipper of otters snorted. "Dam the River Moss?

Stow me barnacles, you couldn't hope to r«top a river that size from flowin'

to the sea." Columbine stopped by to join the discussion. "Perhaps it will

fill gradually."

. "Aye, missie," Skipper chuckled drily. "We could all sit there growing

old and watch it doin' just that. No, we'll give

-ft a bit more time, then if things are still the same we'll have

to think of another scheme." v Lady Amber whacked her tail down irritably. f

"After all that underwater digging and tunneling, then fthere's the lives

that were lost, too. Huh, it makes me mad!" ;; The river carried on flowing

its normal course, only a thin

trickle diverting down the tunnels.

'it was the evening of the following day. Abbess Germaine imd Columbine were

helping Ben Stickle to take the little (Ones out for an evening stroll along

the river bank. Ferdy and fCoggs played with Spike and Posy, together with

some young ;4aice. They were sailing miniature boats that Ben had made :for

them.

Germaine watched fondly as the young ones dashed boisterously up and down the

bank, bursting with energy after being confined to Brockhall the past few

days.

"Be careful, Spike. Watch you don't fall in," she called.

"See my boat, Abbess. It's faster than Coggs's."

"Ooh look, Ferdy is cheating. He's pushing his boat with ;«i stick." '; "No,

I'm not. It's the wind. Mine has a bigger sail."

':•

311

"Columbine, mine has gone down the hole. Can you get it back for me, please?"

"Sorry, Spike. It's gone for good now. Never mind, I'm sure Ben will make you

another."

Ben Stickle crouched to look down the hole where the boat had vanished. He

stood up, wiping his paws and shaking his head.

"Flood tunnels, they're about as much use as an otter in a bird's nest. How

far d'you suppose they'll have filled up the lake under Kotir? A paw's height?

A whisker's level?"

The Abbess watched the rays of the setting sun through the trees. "Who knows,

Ben. One thing is certain, though: Kotir still stands, dark and evil as ever

it was. What a shame that Foremole and Old Dinny's plan never worked."

They turned back to Brockhall.

"Bella says there's no likelihood of rain; the weather is staying fine," Ben

added.

Ferdy tucked the boat under his small spines.

"Maybe they should have done it in the winter, Ben," the Abbess observed

unhelpfully.

Ben ruffled Ferdy's head. "Maybe frogs should have had feathers. Come on,

young 'uns. Get your boats. Back to Brockhall and wash up for supper.' *

It was a warm night. As the Corim sat about in the main room, an air of defeat

hung over the company.

Bella yawned, stretching in her deep armchair.

"Well, any more suggestions?"

There were none. The badger searched one face then another. "Then we must

explore the possibilities open to us. But let me say this, I do not want to

hear any more plans of mass attack or open war."

Skipper and Lady Amber shifted uncomfortably.

"Foremole and Old Dinny still think that the flooding will work, if they can

figure out certain alterations to the original plan," Bella continued. "I know

a lot of us do not agree with this, but personally I think that the flooding

is our only hope. With this in mind, I propose we visit the site tomorrow

morning. Maybe with all the Corim there we might come up with a good idea. If

not, then there is only one other sensible thing to do."

312

Goody Stickle wiped her paws on her flowery apron.

•'What might that be, Mix Bella?"

"To move all the woodlanders and everything we can carry away from here. We

would travel east to Gingivere's new borne. I have told you that he and

Sandingomm will accommodate us. We would find a welcome there, far away from

Kotir."

Skipper jumped up, unhappiness written on his tough features. "But that'd mean

the cat has won."

Cries of support rang out for the otter leader.

"Yes, why should we be driven out?"

"We already left our homes to come to Brockhall."

• "It wouldn't be the same in a strange place." "I was bora around here.

I'm not moving!" Abbess Germaine banged a wooden bowl upon the table to

restore order, but it broke in two.

"Silence, friends, please. Let Bella speak," she shouted above the din.

, Bella picked up the two halves of the bowl, and smiled ^Mefiilly at

Germaine.

"Thank you, Abbess. Friends, there is more to my plan first meets the eye. If

we were to make this move I am ^peaking of, then think of its effect upon

Kotir. Tsarmina would not have won; she would not have chased us through pie

woods—we would have left of our own free will. Now, what would it accomplish?

Imagine for a moment if we stayed io the east until next summer, or even

spring. All the time we were gone the water would continue to run down the

flood tunnels. In autumn there is more rain and the wind drives the liver

faster. Winter would see the current run under the ice, and on warm days the

snow would feed the river and swell it. Finally when the thaw arrived in

spring, the river waters would flood, mighty and unchecked, then we would

truly see the lake rise beneath Kotir. One other thing. Between now and next

spring my father, Boar the Fighter, may arrive. He

•tone can face Tsarmina and defeat her. That is all; I have spoken my piece."

>• Foremole rose and came to the table. Taking the two broken halves of the

wooden bowl, he held them up.

**We be loik this hobjeck—splitted up we'm baint much >

313

use. But if n us sticken t'gether, then we'm useful, hurr." He pressed the two

halves together for all to see.

Old Dinny seconded him. "Foremole be roight, Miz Bell. 'Tis wunnerful

molesense."

Columbine was allowed her say.

"Let us do as Bella suggests. Tomorrow we will go to the flood tunnels, then

if nothing can be done we will follow her plan."

Immediate agreement followed.

"See, Columbine," the Abbess said, picking up the broken bowl in her frail

paws, "old and weak as I am, yet somehow I managed the strength to perform a

small bit of magic. Let us sleep now. It is late, and tomorrow we can tidy up

here and wash the dishes—all except this one."

The Abbess placed the broken halves carefully on the table.

"Maybe a lesson in mole logic would not be a bad thing for a wildcat Queen to

learn."

Log-a-Log was in his element as leader of his tribe once more, he roused the

entire village an hour before dawn to get the ship under way. With a hundred

extra shrews to help, Wuddshipp fairly flew along the river. When they were

not rowing, they were punting, pushing or hauling on ropes.

"Come on shrews, hoist sail," Log-a-Log commanded. "Two of you on this tiller.

Make yourselves busy. Double up on the oars there. You two in the crosstrees,

stir your stumps, the Chief is back. Let's show these bunny rabbits how to

move a craft up our own River Moss."

"I beg your pardon, old Log-a-Thing."

"Steady on with the name-calling there, O Mighty Leader."

"Indeed, we're hares, not bunny rabbits, d'you mind."

T. B. sat on the deck sharpening pikes. "Odd lot those hares," he remarked,

"Seasoned warriors though," Martin said, as he counted swords and daggers.

"Boar the Fighter taught them personally. Don't let their silly talk fool you.

I wouldn't have them as an enemy at any price, and I was proud to fight

alongside them against the sea rats."

314

I Gonff sniffed the air. His whiskers twitched in the predawn

|

| "Trees, Din. We must be in Mossflower. Dawn will soon

§*•**

I: The young mole was painting a crude sign to cover the

,,pame Bloodwake. It bore the legend Wuddshipp. He shook "Ibis head

admiringly, wiping paint from his paws.

"Hurr, Gonffen, we'm 'ome again, oi'm a-feelen it." The gruff voice of a shrew

in the crosstrees confirmed Din-'s words. "Sun arising eastward, trees growing

close, we're n the forest."

> *'Keep her head straight," shouted Log-a-Log, standing lout for'ard. "Furl

those sails in before they snag on the 'branches. Lively there!" f Martin

joined him at the prow.

| "At this rate we should make Camp Willow around mid-f(Jay. I never noticed

us navigating the ford that crosses the

Log-a-Log patted the rail. "I chanced it in the dark. Good ^tailoring, see.

Old Wuddshipp skimmed the shallows with ii^er flat bottom. Nice and deep here

though, easy going on ffceoars."

4 The sun rose above the woodland mists, revealing another Ifcot summer day.

Patterns of water light played along the

Bulkheads, leaf and branch shadow mottled the decks. The Iftiars pulled strong

against the deep slow current as the big

thip nosed its course, further into the depths of Mossflower.

315

45

Brogg watched Tsarmina as she lay flat upon the parade ground with her ear to

the floor.

One of Bane's former mercenaries, a rat named Chinwart, tugged at Brogg's

cloak and asked, "What's she up to, Cap'n?"

"Can't you see, she's listening for water."

"Water?"

"Aye, water, wormbrain. What d'you suppose she'd be listening for, strawberry

cordial?"

Tsarmina sprang up, hurried across the parade ground and lay near the wall of

the building. Listening intently, she waved a paw.

"Brogg, over here!"

"Yes, Milady."

"Get down, press your ear to the wall—not up there, down here by the ground."

"Oh, right. Here, Milady?"

' "That's it. Tell me what you can hear.''

"Er, nothing, Milady."

"Are you sure, Brogg?"

"I'm certain, Milady."

"Well, I can hear water running."

"But I can't, Milady."

"Hmm, perhaps it's my imagination."

"Strange thing the imagination. Milady."

316

'Are you sure you searched below the cells last night?"

'Positive, Milady."

'Brogg, if I thought you were lying to me ... You did irch there, didn't you?"

The weasel Captain noted the look of fear that flitted across tormina's

features. He took full advantage of it. "Your Majesty, I personally went alone

to the place be-

-ath the cells where it's all damp and green with slime and w ngus. I searched

around that underground lake where the fCjloomer lived. The place was full of

strange echoes and dripping sounds. Maybe that's what you've heard. The place

is ^•-vays full of odd echoes and dripping noises down there in blackness.

Shall we go down there together and recheck Milady?" Tsarmina could not stop

her whole body shaking; she sat

- the ground, unconsciously wiping her paws across her xt. "No, no, Brogg,"

she said nervously. "I won't be go-down there. I'll be up in my chamber if you

need me for nything."

%. She nurried indoors, brushing roughly past Chinwart, who

ffead been lingering nearby, eavesdropping on the conversa-

Ilion.

f He winked knowingly at Brogg. "I was with you last night.

pfe never went anywhere near that place under the cells. What

|* pack of old fibs you fed her there, mate."

C Brogg grabbed the rat savagely by his ear and pulled him

:fek>se, twisting hard.

"Listen to me, bonebrain. You keep your skinny mouth uit. I'm giving the

orders now, not Bane." ^ "Owowowow, leggo, you're pulling me lug off!"

Chinwart ^whined pitifully.

$ Brogg twisted the ear more cruelly. £ 'Til rip your tongue out too if I hear

another word from prou," he said menacingly. "Let her go and search the deep

4ark places if she wants to. I'm not going down there, not :for all the cider

in Kotir. Unless, of course, you're volun-Jeering to go down there alone?"

:• Brogg released the rat, who stood nursing his ear tenderly. •/'All right,

all right! I haven't seen nothing, heard nothing, |>nd I won't say nothing.

It's none of my business."

317

Brogg contemptuously wiped the claws that had been nipping Chinwart's ear on

the rat's tunic.

"Good. Now get about your business, pigsears."

When the rat had scurried off, Brogg stood sunning himself. He held the larder

keys, had a new red velvet cloak and a-dangerous-looking curved sword. To all

apparent purposes, he was the only Captain at present serving in Kotir.

Life was beginning to feel fairly good.

A packed lunch was served at the river's edge.

Bella tossed an apple core into the water, they watched it bob to one side

then stick in the shallows.

Skipper plucked it out and flung it far. "All I can say is that somehow the

River Moss is at a low ebb. Those holes were underwater when we dug them, and

now they are high and dry."

Ben Stickle lay flat out on the bank, gazing up at the cloudless sky. "Must be

the mild spring we had. Look at it now, hardly a week into the season and it's

like midsummer. Huh, it'll be late autumn before we see a drop of rain at this

rate." "So, what is to be done?" Abbess Germaine asked, putting her milk

beaker aside.

Lady Amber stroked the space where her ear had been, "What d'you think, Skip?

Would it be possible to dam the river now that the level's fallen a bit?"

The otter picked up a pawful of banksand. It ran freely through his claws.

"Marm, even as things are now, it'd be like trying to stop the sunrise at

dawn. We don't stand a chance of even trying to block off a river the size of

old Moss."

"Er ahem!" Chibb perched on a young chestnut shoot. They continued talking,

ignoring the robin. "Maybe if we dig the channels a bit deeper." "Tunnels, you

mean."

"Channels, tunnels—it's all the same, isn't it?" "Ahemhem harrumph!" Chibb

called again. "It is if you're a squirrel, but to a mole or an otter a channel

and a tunnel are two completely different things."

"Humph, ahem, harrumph!" Chibb was becoming impatient.

318

Hurr, that be correck. 'Oles is 'oles an* tuners is fur-

"Harrumph, ahemhemhernhem!"

"What d'you mean, furrows, a channel isn't a furr— "

"Ahem!"

"Chibb, what's the matter with you? Some nut stuck in r throat, is it?"

*Er ahem, no. But I thought you'd like to know there's a |jhip coming up the

river."

"A ship!"

1 "What, you mean a boat?"

| "Harrumph, I beg your pardon, but I'd have said a boat if ;;1 meant a boat.

It is a ship, full size, all black, white skull Idling on the front, rolled up

canvas sails, lots of oars. Ship!" ? Bella leaped up, spreading her paws wide.

"Every creature Itake cover. Abbess, you stay with them. Be ready to make a

flash for Brockhall if you hear my signal. Skipper, Lady Am-, come with me.

We'd better go and investigate. Chibb, id you see who was on the ship?"

"Ahem, 'fraid not. Soon as I sighted it I came here to Report."

;•" "Good work," Bella congratulated him. "Come with us. |We may need you to

carry word back fast to those in hiding." ;V The woodlanders concealed

themselves behind trees, in bushes and under deep loam. The badger, the otter,

the squir-tel and the robin struck out west along the bank, leaving the ricene

apparently deserted.

light, they made swift progress. It was not far to Khe stretch of water where

the ship was. f • Chibb was the first to sight it. He fluttered up and down

txcitedly. "Ahem, see, I told you so. Look at those two big ;£>oles sticking

up above the trees. They're, er, harrumph, big poles that stick up on ships."

;>- Skipper saw them, too.

' "Masts, they are, matey," he explained. "Let's get in Closer and take a

better look."

On all fours, they crept to the river's edge, concealing themselves in the

bushes as the ship hove into view. . "You there, come no further," Bella

called from her hide-•|wt, in the forbidding boom of a warlike badger. "If you

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mean harm to any creature in Mossflower, put back to sea— ordeal with me!"

There was silence from the black ship.

On board Wuddshipp, Martin and his friends lay on deck, hidden by the ship's

sides.

Dinny clapped a paw to his mouth, stifling a chuckle. "Hurrhurrhurr, oi know

oo that be a-shouten."

"Bella, good old Bella of Brockhall." There was a distant look in Martin's

eyes. "For a moment there she sounded like Boar. *'

Log-a-Log nodded toward the shore. "Well, we can't lie here all day. Who's

going to answer her?"

Young Dinny solved the problem by standing up and bellowing, "Yurr, thurr be a

beast aboard oo's a-perishen frum luv fer one called Combuliney.''

The creatures in the bushes dashed out in time to see the mole hit the water

with a splash as Gonff heaved him over the side.

"Oo arr, glub, 'elp! Oi baint much gudd at swimmen!"

"Hold fast there, Young Din!" Skipper called, and he was in the water like a

flash. He held Young Dinny up as eager paws hauled them on board.

"Skipper, you old waterwalloper!"

"Gonff, you young piebandit!"

"Hallo, Bella. Ahoy, it's me, Martin!"

"Martin the Warrior, welcome home. Look who's here!"

"Lady Amber, where's your ear?"

Log-a-Log's voice rang out, and suddenly Wuddshipp was swarming with shrews,

mice, hedgehogs, squirrels and hares.

"Bring her hard over. Steady to the bank. Mind those masts on the trees.

Steady that tiller. Watch her head in the shallows!"

Chibb flew to the ship and perched importantly upon the rail. "Ahem, I must

fly and conduct good tidings to those languishing in concealment."

As he flew off, Skipper chuckled. "Does that mean he's going to tell the

others? Strike me colors, but this is a fine 'andsome vessel. I never seen the

like of it afore on old River Moss. You didn't steal it, did you, Gonff? Is

that two sails I spy? Wonderful. Blow me, look at the size of that tiller!

This

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is a real seagoing craft, all right. What's that big skull on the for'ard tip?

A fish! I don't believe there's a fish that big in all the world."

As Wuddshipp berthed alongside the bank, Timballisto held up his paws laughing

heartily. "Hold steady, otter. You must be Skipper. I'm Martin's pal

Timballisto. We'll answer all your questions soon enough."

Bella and Lady Amber came aboard, gazing about in awe as they hugged Martin,

Gonff and Dinny.

Bella smiled fondly at the warrior mouse as she patted his back. "Martin,

you've grown. You really look like a full-blooded warrior now. What a

beautiful sword that is! Is my father here? Where's old Boar the Fighter?"

A silence fell over the ship's crew. Martin gently took Bella's paw.

"Come into the cabin with me, old friend. I have a long story to tell you."

There were many stories told that summer afternoon while Martin and Bella

remained in the cabin. Ferdy and Coggs, Spike and Posy sat among a group of

woodlanders on the deck. The little hedgehogs wore brass sea rat earrings and

carried a round shield each. Their eyes were wide and mouths agape as Gonff

related the events which had befallen the travelers since they left Mossflower

to go questing for Salaman-dastron. Ben Stickle, Goody and the Abbess were

equally impressed, smiling broadly when Gonff could not get his paw loose to

illustrate a point because Columbine was clasping it tight.

"Toads, mateys. You've never seen toads as wicked as this lot. But when that

eel came slithering out of the Scream-hole ..."

"Was the eel as big as a tree, Mr. Gonff?"

"Twice as big, Spike. He'd have eaten you without even opening his mouth."

Lady Amber chuckled drily. "Are you sure you saw mice with wings, Gonff?"

"Oh, I never saw them. But Martin and Dinny did. Isn't that right, Din."

"Burr aye. Gurt leathery burdmouses, a-flyen about inside 'ee mounten."

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"Was that Salamandastron mountain, Mr. Dinny?"

' 'Indeed it was not. Batchaps inside our mountain? Never!''

"Fat chance, young teller me hog, what!"

"Only fire, hares and badgers inside our mountain, old lad."

Gonff looked severely at Trubbs and Company. "Who's telling this story, me or

you?"

"Yes, please be quiet and let Mr. Gonff tell the story, Trubbs."

"Rather, he's a much better storyteller than you."

"Indeed, and isn't little Columbine pretty."

"Then there was this beach," Gonff continued enthusiastically. "Huge, big as

Mossflower, nothing but sand as far as you could see, besides the water and

the crabs."

"Ooh, what's a crab, Mr. Gonff?"

"Well, it's like a spider, only a hundred times bigger, with great nipping

claws and lots of hard armor."

"Did you and Martin slay the big crab, Mr. Gonff?"

"Er, well, no, Ferdy. Actually, I ended up dancing with it."

"Hanahahahaha!"

"Was it a pretty lady crab, Gonff?"

"No, I think it was a jolly sort of male crab, Columbine."

"Oh, then that's all right."

"Here, I nearly forgot, this is a necklace of shells I made for you. Put it

on."

"Oh, thank you, Gonff, it's beautiful. Are they crab shells?"

"No, missie, them's shell shells, c'llected 'em moiself, oi did."

"While Gonff was busy dancing with the crabs, I suppose. Thank you very much,

Dinny."

The mousethief chose to ignore the reference to his dancing talent and

continued the narrative.

He told of the sands, the movement of mighty sea tides, of the scavenging

seabirds and the dead rat whose provisions saved their own lives. He described

the meeting with Trubbs and company and how they led the travelers to the

mountain. Gonff went on to tell of die fabulous place called Salamandastron,

its halls, caves, stairs and passages. He related to his amazed audience the

saga of Boar the Fighter, of his

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roaring forge, gigantic battle sword and his colossal bravery in the war

against the sea rats. Gonff told of the struggle that ended with Boar and

Ripfang going together to the gates of Dark Forest, and finished with the

capture of the ship Blood-wake, now called Wuddshipp.

There was a moment's complete silence, then the wood-landers flocked about

him, babbling questions.

T. B. and some former oarslaves saved Gonff from further harassment by lugging

large copper tubs out from the galley.

"Right. Form a line here. It's skilly and duff time!"

The young ones sniffed the savory odors as he explained, "Seafood and potato

stew, that's skilly. It'll put hairs on your chest like a giant sea dog.

There's plenty of pepper and sea salt in it, too. Finish it all up and show me

a clean plate, then I'll dish you up some of my own warrior's recipe: plum and

chestnut duff in cream and beechnut sauce. Come on, there's plenty for

everyone."

Night fell as Wuddshipp rode at anchor, kedged safe in midstream. Martin

emerged from the cabin looking pale and sad after the news he had related to

Bella. He called the six hares to him.

"Go to the cabin, Bella wishes to talk with you," he told them. "Tell her all

you know of her father and the time you spent in his company on the mountain."

"Rely on us, old chap."

"Only the good times. Mum's the word, y'know." "That's the ticket. How strong

Boar was." "Like a father to us. A handsome badger, what!" "He taught us all

so much. He was so understanding." "How could we forget such a dear friend."

Before they slept, the travelers were closeted with the Corim leaders to hear

how Mossflower had fared in their absence. When they had learned all, they

went out onto the deck. The little ones had been bedded down in the cabins,

but the novelty of hammock sleeping lost out to weariness. Outside on the

deck, every creature was assembled, packing the rails and rigging.

Bella stood with her paw upon the tiller, red-eyed with grief but calm and

composed.

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Martin took command instinctively. The warrior mouse seemed to have grown in

stature and confidence since his return, every woodlander now looked upon him

with a respect that bordered upon awe. He stood on the peak of the after end

gallery, the sword glinting under a full moon.

"Friends, I have heard all, and my companions have told you everything that

happened to us on our quest. Now I am back."

Abbess Germaine nodded approvingly at the commanding figure. "Tell us what you

want us to do, Martin."

The warrior mouse drew his sword and leaned on the pommel stone as his blade

pierced the deck timbers.

"Trust me, Mossflower will be saved. I have been thinking of a plan that I

will not explain at present. First I must see certain things before I know it

can be executed properly. Now we must sleep until the morning. Tomorrow, after

the little ones are somewhere safe, you will see what I intend. Do not worry

any more. Our force has been doubled by the numbers who have sailed back with

us, and we have seasoned warriors with us now. Boar the Fighter cannot be here

tonight, but I know that his strong spirit watches over us. From beyond the

gates of Dark Forest he has sent me with this sword to make an end of Tsarmina

and all who follow her. I promise you that I will."

Every creature who saw Martin the Warrior that night knew, without a shadow of

doubt: he was the one chosen to keep that promise.