Algador swallowed nervously before shouting back, "Ninth Spring Runner reportin', marm, relieved nor'west o' here this afternoon!"

There was silence followed by a grunt. "Come in!"

Algador entered the forge room and shut the door carefully behind him. It was only the second time he had been in there. A long unshuttered window, with its sill made into a seat, filtered the last rosy shafts of daylight onto the floor. Ma.s.sive, rough-hewn rock walls were arrayed with weapons hung everywhere: great bows, quivers of arrows, lances, spears, javelins, daggers, cutla.s.ses, and swords. A blackened stone forge stood in the room's center, its bellows lying idle, the white and yellowy red charcoal fire embers smoking up through a wide copper flue.

The hare's eyes were riveted on a heroic figure standing hammer in paw over a chunk of metal glowing on the anvil. Lady Cregga Rose Eyes, legendary Badger Ruler of Salamandastron.

Her size was impressive: even the big forge hammer in her paw seemed tiny, like a toy. Over a rough homespun tunic she wore a heavy, scarred, metal-studded ap.r.o.n. The glow from the red-hot metal caught her rose-colored eyes, tingeing them scarlet as she glared down at Algador. His long back legs quivered visibly, and he felt like an acorn at the foot of a giant oak tree.

The Badger Lady nodded wordlessly, and Algador found himself babbling out his report in a rush.

"Patrolled north by east beyond the dunes for two days, marm, spent one night by the river, saw no signs of anybeast. No track or word of Major Perigord so far, no sign of Rap- 82.

scallions or vermin. Sighted a few traces of shrews yesterday morn, marm."

Lady Cregga rested the hammerhead on the anvil horn. "You didn't contact the Guosim shrews or speak to them?"

"No, marm, 'fraid I didn't. Traces were at least three days old, campfire ashes an' vegetable peelin's, that was all, marm."

Cregga took tongs and replaced the lump of metal she was working back in the forge. Then she gave the bellows a gentle push, flaring the charcoal and seacoal into flame.

"Hmm, pity you missed the shrews. Their leader, the Log-a-Log, might have had some information for us. Never mind, well done. Ask Colonel Eyebright to come up here, will you?"

"Yes, marm!" The young hare stood motionless to attention.

Lady Cregga watched him for a moment, then unusually she gave a fleeting smile. "If you stand there any longer you'll take root. Go now-you're dismissed."

Algador saluted and wheeled off so quickly he almost tripped over his own footpaws. Lady Cregga heard the door shut as she turned back to her work at the forge.

Cutting straight through the main dining hall, Algador made for the Officers' Mess. He accosted another young hare coming out, carrying tray and beakers. "Evenin', Furgale! I say, is Colonel Eyebright in there? Got a rather important message for him."

Furgale was a jolly type, obliging too. Placing the tray on a window ledge, he waggled an ear at the Runner. "Say no more, old pip, I'll let him know you're here."

Flinging the door open wide, Furgale danced comically to attention. Closing both eyes tightly, he bellowed into the small room, "Ninth Spring Runnah t'see you, Colonel Eyebright. Sah!"

Eyebright was every inch the military hare, of average size, silver gray with long seasons, a smart, spare figure in plain regulation green tunic. Looking up from the scrolls he was studying, Eyebright twitched his bristling mustache at the messenger. "I'm not deaf y'know, young feller. Send the chap in!"

Algador marched smartly into the Officers' Mess. "Lady 83 Cregga sends her compliments an' wishes you to attend her in the forge room, Colonel, sah!"

The Colonel's eyebrows rose momentarily, then, fastening his top tunic b.u.t.ton, he rose and put aside the scrolls. "Very good, I'm on m'way!"

He eyed me Runner up and down, a kindly smile creasing his weathered features. "Ninth Spring Runner, eh? Obviously enjoyin' the job, young Algy!"

Algador stood at ease, returning his Commanding Officer's smile. "Very much, thank ye, sah."

Eyebright's silver-tipped pace stick tapped Algador's shoulder approvingly. "Good show, keep it up, won't be long before we have y'out gallopin' for a Long Patrol like that brother o' yours."

Algador swelled with pride as the dapper Colonel marched spryly off.

Cregga nodded her huge striped muzzle to the window seat as she poured pennycloud and dandelion cordial for herself and the Colonel. They sat together, he sipping his drink as he watched the parched badger take a long draught of hers. "Thirsty work at the ol' forge, eh, marm?" he said.

The rose-hued eyes flickered in the forge light. "That's not what I called you up here to talk about, Colonel. I had the Ninth Runner report to me this evening, and the news is still the same-all bad. No sign of Perigord's patrol, no word of Rapscallions, everything's too quiet. My voices tell me that big trouble is brewing somewhere."

Eyebright chose his words carefully. "But we've no proof, marm, mayhap things being quiet is all for the best. No news bein' good news, if y'know what I mean."

The Colonel tried not to jump with fright as Lady Cregga suddenly roared and flung her beaker out of the window. "Gormad Tunn and those two sp.a.w.n of his are out there getting ready to plunge the land into war. I'm certain of it!"

The old hare kept his voice calm. "Tunn and his army could be anywhere, far north, south coast, wherever. We can only do our best by protecting the west land and the seas in front of us. We can't just go marchin' out an' fightin' all over the place."

84.

Lady Cregga strode to the forge and, seizing a pair of tongs, she rummaged in the fire, pulling out the lump of metal she was working on. Laying it on the anvil she took up her hammer. "Colonel, how many hares would it take to guard Sala-mandastron and the sh.o.r.es roundabout?"

The Colonel's eyebrows shot up quizzically. "Marm?"

Clang!

Sparks flew as Cregga's hammer smashed down on the glowing metal. "Don't 'marm' me! Answer the question, sir- how many fighting hares could do the job, and are you able to command them?"

Eyebright stood up abruptly. "Half the force would be sufficient to protect this area. As to your second question, marm, of course I am able to command. Are you questioning my ability or merely insulting my competence?''

The Badger Lady let the hammer drop. Leaving the anvil, she came to stand in front of the old hare, towering above him. "My friend, forgive me, you are my strong right paw on this mountain. I did not mean to question your skills as a Commander. I spoke in haste, please accept my sincere apology-"

The pace stick rose, pointing directly at Cregga. Eyebright's tone was that of a reproving father to an errant daughter. "I have served you well, Cregga Rose Eyes. Anybeast, no matter what their reputation or size, would be down on the sh.o.r.e now to give satisfaction, had they called my honor into question as you did. I forgive you those words, though I will not forget them. Marm, your trouble is that you are eaten up with hatred of Gormad Tunn, his brood, and their followers. You feel bound to destroy them. Am I not right, wot?''

Cregga hooded her eyes, gazing out of die window at the night seas. "You speak the truth. When I think of the gallant hares we lost on the beach and in the shallows of the tide on those three days and nights-and what for? Because Gormad thought his Rapscallion forces great enough to conquer Sala-mandastron. Aye, he tried to make cruel sport of us, the same way he has done to other more helpless creatures all his miserable life. It will not go on! Soon I will have made myself a new battlepike. If there is no news by then I intend to take half our warriors and go forth to seek out and destroy the evil 85 that goes by the name Rapscallion. One day they will be nought but a bad memory in the minds of good and honest creatures. You have my oath on it!"

Colonel Eyebright left the forge room in resigned silence. n.o.beast could swerve the Lady Rose Eyes from her purpose once her mind was made up.

Down in the dining hall, Algador was taking supper with his friends, all young hares the same age as himself. Furgale tore into a large salad, speaking with his mouth full, as there were no officers present.

"I say, chaps, when d'you suppose the lists'll be posted for new recruits to the jolly oP Long Patrol?"

Cheeva, a young female, flicked an oatcake crumb at him. "First mornin* o' summer, my pater says. Hope my name's on it I'll bet Algy's top o' the bloomin' list, wot?"

Algador sliced into a hefty carrot and celery flan. "Do you? I'll pester the life out of Major Perigord until he takes me as Galloper with Riffle. I think I'm old enough to beat the ears off him in a flat run now!"

Suddenly the room echoed with banging clanging noises, the din reverberating off the walls. Cheeva clapped paws to her ears, crying, "Great seasons o' salad, who's makin' all the clatter?"

Algador had to shout to make himself heard. He called to Colonel Eyebright, who was pa.s.sing through on his way to the mess, "I say, sah, who's creatin' that infernal racket?"

The Colonel stopped by their table, gesturing to them to stay seated. "Some badger or other at her forge, why don't y'go up there an' tell her to stop?'' He nodded at the smiling young faces turned toward him. "I've a feelin' that you lot are goin' to find yourselves Long Patrollin' sooner than you think!"

At this announcement the young hares cheered wildly, eyes aglow, fired with hope and desire. Heedless of what lay ahead.

17.

"Barradum! Barradum! Barrabubbitybubbityboom!"

Russa peered bad-temperedly from under the edge of a cloak that served her as a blanket. "Hoi, drumface, pack it in, w.i.l.l.yer!"

Rubbadub marched over, his fat face wreathed in morning smiles. Placing a plate of hot food in front of the half-awake squirrel, he brought his cheerful features right up to her nose. "Boom! Boom!"

Tammo and the rest of the column laughed, spooning down an early breakfast of barley meal mixed with honey and ha-zelnuts.

Sergeant Torgoch did a very good imitation of a motherly female. "Come on, sleepyhead, rise an' shine, the momin's fine, the lark's in the air an' all is fair, the day's begun, look there's the sun!"

Midge Manycoats skipped about like a Dibbun. "Oh, mummy, may I go out an' play? I'll pick some daisies for you!"

Torgoch's voice dropped back to that of a gruff Patrol Sergeant. "Siddown an' finish yer brekkfist, you useless Hddle 86.

87.

omadorm, or I'll 'ave yore paws pickled for a season's 'ard marehin'!"

Wiping his lips on a spotless white kerchief, Perigord buckled on his saber, and flexed his footpaws. "Listen up, troop, we're marehin' due south. Exercise extreme caution out on the flatlands, an' keep y'r eyes peeled for vermin. When the blighters have recovered their nerve I wouldn't be surprised if they chance another crack at us, wot!"

Equipment was packed away into haversacks, and weapons brought to the ready as the Sergeant harangued them. "Right, you 'card the h'officer, form up an' stir yer stumps now!"

Gra.s.shoppers rustled and bees hummed about early flowering saxifrage and heathers, and die sun shone boldly from a sky of cloudless blue. It was a glorious spring morning on the open moorland. Tammo strode along between Russa and Pasque; the squirrel had her stick, and both hares carried loaded slings. Up in front, Perigord conversed easily with Riffle, though his eyes roved restlessly over the landscape. "Pretty clear tracks, eh, wot? Seems they ain't bothered about coverin' their trail, I'd say."

"Aye, sir, mebbe they'll try somethin' when we reach that rocky-lookin' hill up ahead."

The Major kept his eyes front as he answered, "Hmm, or that little outcrop to the left - Down troop!"

An arrow zipped by them like an angry hornet as they tiirew themselves to the ground. Lieutenant Morio bounced up immediately. "Just one of 'em, sah. There he goes!"

The sniper, a rat with bow and quiver, had broken cover and was racing toward the rock-rifted hill. Perigord sat up, his jaw tight with anger as he saw a rip the shaft had torn on the shoulder of his stylish green velvet tunic.

"Just look at that, the blinkin' cad! Drop the blighter, Rockjaw Grang set shaft to a longbow that resembled a young tree. He squinted along the arrow, stretching the flexible yew bow into a wide arc, tracking his quarry.

The rat halted, relieved he was not being chased. He un-slung his bow and began coolly choosing an arrow. Rockjaw's shaft took him out like a thunderbolt.

The giant hare shook his head at the fallen rat's foolishness.

88.

"Yon vermin should've kept a runnin'. 'Ey up, there's more!"

Four more broke cover to the right from behind a low rise; shooting off a few slingstones at the hares, they began dashing for the hilltop. Regardless of what orders they had been given, the vermin did not want to be caught out alone by the hares.

Perigord turned to Twayblade and Riffle. "Cut 'em off, try an' take one alive! Rockjaw, you an' Midge cover the hill. The rest of you - about face!"

Tammo shot Russa a puzzled glance. "About face?"

Sergeant Torgoch grabbed Tammo and spun him around roughly. "Don't question orders, young 'un, do like the h' officer sez!"

A band of vermin poured out of the woodland toward them. Tammo and Pasque whirled their slings as Perigord called out, ' 'On my command, two slings, arrows, or one javelin, then go at 'em with a will. Steady now, let the blighters get closer ..."

Tammo felt his teeth begin to chatter. He ground them together tightly and caused his head to start shaking. The vermin faces were plainly visible now, painted red with some kind of mineral dye. Yelling, roaring, and brandishing fearsome weapons, they rushed forward, paws pounding the earth. Perigord leveled his saber at them, remarking almost casually, "Let 'em have it, chaps!"

Tammo' s first slingshot missed altogether; in his excitement he whipped the sling too high. His second shot took a weasel slap on the paw, causing him to drop his spear with a yelp. Then Tammo found himself charging with the Long Patrol, the war cry of the perilous hares ripping from his throat along with his comrades. Even Russa was shouting.

"Eulaliaaaaa! 'S death on the wind! Eulaliaaaaaa!"

They met with a clash, Perigord slaying the leading pair before they could blink an eye. Tammo thrust out at a stoat and missed; the stoat feinted with his cutla.s.s, and as Tammo backed off his foe skipped forward and tripped him. The young hare fell. He saw the stoat launch himself in a flying leap, cutla.s.s first. Levering himself swiftly aside, Tammo kept his paw outstretched with the dirk pointed upward. The stoat landed heavily on the blade.

Pulling his blade free, Tammo scrambled up, only to find 89 the vermin fleeing with Long Patrol hares hard on their heels.

Major Perigord and Rubbadub came marching up, the former cleaning his saber on a pawful of dried gra.s.s. ' 'Well done, young 'un, got y'self one, I see!"

Tammo could not look at the vermin he had slain, and his bead began shaking again as he tried to face the Major.

Shrugging off his tunic, Perigord inspected the torn shoulder. "I know how y'feel, Tamm, but he'd have got you if you hadn't got him. Here, see."

He retrieved the stoat's cutla.s.s and pointed to the notches carved into the wooden handle. "Count 'em, tell me how many you make it."

Tammo took the weapon and counted the notches. "Eighteen, sir!"

Perigord took the blade and flung it away with a grimace of distaste. "Aye, eighteen, though they weren't all fightin' beasts like you an' me, laddie buck. Those smaller notches you saw were for the very old or the very young, creatures too weak to defend themselves. Don't waste your sympathy on sc.u.m like that one. Come on now, stop shakin' like tadpole Jelly an' give us a good ol' De Fformelo Tussock smile. Rub-badub, beat 'em over to that hill yonder, we'll form up there."

Rubbadub's pearly teeth flashed in a huge grin as he marched off drumming the Long Patrol to him.

"Drmibadubdub drrrubadubdub dubbity dubbity dub. Ba-boom!"

Perigord and Tammo stared at each other for a moment, then burst into laughter. : The patrol squatted on the hilltop, Pasque Valerian tending one or two minor injuries that had been received. Tway-swished the air regretfully with her long rapier. "Sorry didn't take any prisoners, Major, but those vermin weren't n' any prisoners either, the way they were fightin', so 'n'Riffle had to give as good as we jolly well got."

Perigord watched from the hilltop as the remaining vermin small in the afternoon distance. "No matter, old gel, we still track 'em. As long as we cut 'em off before they h Redwall Abbey. What d'you make o' those villains, ussa, pretty sharp thinkers, wot?"

The squirrel munched on an apple, nodding. "Aye, 'twas a go clever move they made. Clear tracks to this hill, then they must've split up a couple of hours afore dawn an' circled back. Leavin' a few to the leftVright to distract us, the rest of the crafty sc.u.m went back to the woodland so they could ambush us from be'ind. Knowin' we'd be expectin' them to be waitm' for us, hidin' about here on this hilltop."

Rockjaw Grang was watching the retreating vermin and counting their numbers. "Sithee, there's still enough o' yon beasts to make a sc.r.a.p. They must've numbered fifty or more when we first met 'em, sir. By my count they still got'n thirty-two."

"Hardly enough for eleven bold chaps'n'chappesses like us,'' Riffle snorted scornfully. ' 'Thirteen if y'count Tamm an' Russa. I say, thirteen, is that unlucky?"

Lieutenant Morio stood up, dusting off his paws. "Aye, unlucky for them when we catch up with 'em. Everybeast fit now, Pasque?"

The beautiful young hare was closing up her medicine pouch. "Yes, Midge took a slight cheek wound and Turry nearly lost the tip of an ear. I've seen to them both. Now there's only the Major's jacket, but lean do that this evening."

The twins, Tare and Turry, ragged Tammo unmercifully.