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 ba.s.s 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 286.

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 c.o.c.ked 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, 287.

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 288.

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 a.s.sured 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."

290.

"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 sh.o.r.e, 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 291.

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

Dinny gave a hoa.r.s.e shout. "Look out! Yurr they'm a-c.u.mmen!"

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 bra.s.s 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 292.

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 ma.s.s 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?"