Brian Jacques - Redwall #09 - Salamandastron

Dingeye was too elated to chide him for using the Assassin's name. He waved the great sword aloft. "This is treasure riches, I tell yer. There ain't another weapon like this in ... in ... nowhere!"

In a very short time dawnlight was beginning to streak the eastern sky; The two stoats sneaked from the Abbey and let themselves out by a small wicker gate set in the south wall, then they dashed across the open sward and vanished into the fastnesses of Mossflower Woods.

Unfortunately Samkim was awake by the first light of day. He could not remain in bed with the thought of the previous evening's events; he had to see the sword again to reassure himself he had not been dreaming. Arula was still snoring as he tip-pawed from the dormitory and made his way downstairs. Samkim was in such a hurry that he stumbled over Brother Hal's body and fell. With a cry of horror he rolled over and leapt to his feet, only to trip and fall again. The bowstring had become tangled in his footpaws. He extricated himself and stood up, holding the bow.

Friar Bellows was up at his usual time to start preparing breakfast for the Abbey dwellers. He came bustling down the stairs and froze to a stop on the bottom step, his plump face a mask of horror. Standing in front of him was Samkim with a bow in his paws, and close by lay Brother Hal with an arrow through his throat. The Friar sat down on the stairs with a bump, his voice hoarse with disbelief. "Samkim, what have you done?"

Sakmumdas tron

91

12

Windpaw bound Sap wood's injured paw with a poultice of soothing herbs and a woven ryegrass wrapper. Urthstripe strode up and down the forge cavern like a demented beast. Though the Sergeant had told his tale several times, the badger Lord kept roaring out a steady stream of questions.

"Did they capture Mara or didn't they?"

"I don't think so, sir. I gave 'em the old runabout so's young Mara an' Pikkle could hescape 'em."

"Can't you give me a straight answer, Sergeant? Did they or didn't they! Who was their leader? How many of them are there?"

Sapwood shook his head despairingly as he glanced at Windpaw, Catkin, Starbob, Seawood and Big Oxeye. All the hares knew that Urthstripe had thrown reason to the winds. Oxeye stood between Sapwood and Urthstripe.

"Milord, I suggest y* leave Sapwood alone. Like me, he's told you all he jolly well can. Workin' yourself into a tizzy ain't goin' to help, if y' don't mind me sayin' so. We all know that before the season's much older mere's goin' to be a vermin horde knockin' on our front door. Worryin' over Mara an' shoutin' at Sapwood ain't goin' to solve that, no sir."

90

Urthstripe stopped pacing and faced Oxeye. Big as he was, the fighting hare quailed slightly under the brooding gaze of Urthstripe the Strong. But he had no need to worrythe badger Lord patted his paw lightly.

"Thank you, Oxeye. You are right. Sapwood old friend, how's your paw coming along?"

"Bandage or no bandage. Hi can still punch me weight, sir."

Urthstripe nodded approvingly. "Good. Now let's get things organized. Oxeye, Starbob, Catkin, take your patrols and seal up all entrances except the front. Windpaw, Seawood, check that the mountain is fully provisioned and see to the water-barrel levels. Sapwood, you come with me. We'll get together some weaponry to provide a warm reception for whatever scum come visiting. I hope that Klitch and his pal are among themI'd enjoy meeting them again."

So the fortress of Salamandastron started gearing itself up for war.

Ferahgo was readying his horde to march upon Salamandastron by midmorning of the next day. Forgrin the fox and Rap-tail the rat were seeing to their weapons. Forgrin was using a flat rock to grind a new point upon his long rapier, Raptail was fletching his arrows with leaf flights. As they worked, the two creatures conversed in low tones, keeping silent whenever Ferahgo or Klitch was near.

"D'you know why we're attackin' this badger mountain, mate? I mean, what's the real reason behind it?"

"Yer not supposed to ask that, Forgrin. The Chief sez it'd make a good fortress for us ter use as a base."

The fox licked his paw and tested the point of his rapier. "Huh, he must think we're all as dimwitted as Migroo. A fortress to use as a base, my fangs! That brat of his, Klitch, and his pal Goffa, and that whinin' searat Sickear, they seem ter know somethin' we don't."

Raptail peered down an arrowshaft, checking its straight-ness. "Aye, that's the lot of a soldier, mate: carry out orders .and don't ask questions. But I'm tellin' yer this, I don't fancy

92

Brian Jacques

gettin' slain in battle fer summat I don't know about!"

"Same 'ere, male. Though just atwixt you 'n' me, I've kept me lugs ter the ground and I thinks there's some kinda treasure at the bottom o' this.... Stow it, 'ere comes trouble!"

Ferahgo and Klitch walked by,- and the two soldiers kept their heads down, working busily at their weapons. The Assassin flashed a dangerous smile and nodded his approval. Klitch pawed his short sword, looking about impatiently.

"We've lost the edge of surprise. This army should have moved quicker. Urthstripe will be ready and waiting for us. Tell me, when are you going to make your move?"

Ferahgo played with the gold badger medal hanging around his neck. "Patience, my young backstabber, patience. When Migroo and his hunters get back, then we march."

"But why wait for Migroo and the others? We could leave signs for them to follow."

Ferahgo seated himself on a rock and stared upward, his eyes becoming bluer as they reflected the clear skies above. "What a beautiful summer morning after last night's heavy storm. My son, do you see how wonderfully clear the air is? I like to clear the air before I do anything. Have you noticed a few grumblings and rumblings amongst my army of Corpse-makers? I have. When Migroo returns with the rest, depending on whether or not he has captives with him, I'll use him as a shining example, or a warning. Either way, I'll instill some loyalty into those who murmur behind my back. You'll see."

"Hah, so you say, old one!" Klitch snorted and stalked off moodily.

Ferahgo smiled mockingly as he called after him, "With age comes wisdom. Hotheads are ten for a crust, young one."

At high noon a stoat named Doghead called down from the lookout post, "Migroo an' the huntin' gang comin' in from the south, master!"

Ferahgo tapped Goffa lightly on the side of his heavily swollen face. The ferret winced and cringed. "Laid out by an unarmed hare, eh. You're a bright one. Get Klitch and muster

Salamandastron

93

die army together for a march."

By the time Migroo and his hunters reached camp, the entire horde was gathered in one place among the rocks. Ferahgo stood apart from them, his eyes as dangerous as thin blue ice on a deep spring lake.

"Ho there, Migroo. Where've you been?"

The stoat was not the brainiest of creatures. He stood scratching his head as he pondered the odd question. "Chasin" the badger an' the hare, Chief, like you told us to."

Ferahgo smiled indulgently. He was enjoying this. "No no, you've got it wrong, Migroo. I never said chase them. I said capture them and bring them back here. Right?"

The stoat was beginning to feel nervous. He swallowed hard. "That's right, Chiefcatcher 'em an1 bring them back 'ere, that's wot you said."

The Assassin's smile swept around the watching horde. He let the tension build a little, then shrugged carelessly. "Well, I don't see a badger and a hare, do you, Migroo?"

The stoat backed off, holding out his paws pleadingly. "Arr now, Chief, we wasn't to blame. We tracked 'em arf the day an' all night through the dunes in the dark an* the storm. We tried, Chief, 'onest we did, but they just vanished in the night when the rain was 'eavy! Eeeeyahhhh!"