Brian Jacques - Mossflower

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

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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.

* * *

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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

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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