Eulalia!

Codj held out his beaker for a refill. "Ya mean Windflin Wildbrush, der great Sea Raider?"

Vizka nodded. "Aye, dat was 'im. Well, let me tell ya, Windflin was slayed by a stripe'ound wot 'ad der Blood-wrath. It was at dat place wid a funny name, Sammer-strong I t'ink, a big mountain castle, far down der sou'west shores. They says der beast wot killed Windflin was an ole stripe'ound called Asheye, a real mad Bloodwrath beast who couldn't be defeated."

Codj took a swallow of the foul-smelling grog. "Huh, 'e musta been a champeen fighter ter slay der great Windflin Wildbrush! But if'n Bloodwrath beasts are so dangerous, why do ya want to keep one alive? Best cure for any mad-beast is to kill 'im quick!"

Vizka winked slyly at his younger brother. "Nah, ya don't turn a beast like our Rock'ead inta fishbait, 'e's val-lible. I got plans fer 'im."

Codj was intrigued by his brother's words. "Plans?"

Vizka expanded upon his scheme. "Aye, plans. If'n I could break Rock'ead, an' tame 'im, jus' imagine dat! We'd 'ave a one-beast army, we'd be der terror of d'land an' sea!"

Codj was not wholly convinced. "Did ya see der way Rock'ead slayed pore Balid? Huh, one smack of 'is paw was all it took. I never seen nobeast wid dat sorta strength. So 'ow are ya goin' ter tame der beast if'n ye can't get near 'im?"

Vizka shook his handsome golden head pityingly. " 'Tis a gud job I'm der brudder wid der brains. Ain't you 'eard dat 'linger an' thirst are de best tamers of all? We jus' keeps Rock'ead chained t'der mast, an' starve 'im inter my way

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o' thinkin'. Hah, 'e'll do like I says, or perish, 'ow's dat fer a gud idea, eh?"

Codj was in awe of his older brother's wisdom. "No wonder yore cap'n o' der Bludgulletl Er, an' why are we sailin' south?"

Vizka commandeered the grog flask, as Codj was about to pour himself more grog. "We're goin' south 'cos dat's my orders. Aye, an' I ain't goin' down as far as dat Sam-merstrung mountain. Let fools like Windflin get theirselves slayed by madbeasts. I tell ya, dere's lotsa places where der livin' is soft. Good vittles, loot an' plunder, dat's wot I'm after, Codj, an' I don't want ta fight for dem either!"

Codj stared ruefully into his empty beaker. "So 'ow d'yer plan on doin' all dat?"

The golden fox spread his paws disarmingly. "Rock'ead can take care of all der fightin' an' killin' fer us, once I got 'im trained proper."

All of this sounded quite good to Codj, but he still had unanswered questions. "But if'n we ain't sailin' for der stripe'ound mountain, where else are ya plannin' on goin'?"

Vizka poured him more grog. "Don't bother yore 'ead over dat, brudder, I'll find someplace. Yew go about yer bizness an' leave it t'me. I'll look out for ya, Codj."

But the stumptailed fox was still not satisfied. "Wot'U dis place be like?"

Vizka pondered a moment before answering. "T'will be a place where I kin rule, jus' like a king!"

Codj persisted. "Like a king, eh, an' worrabout me?"

The golden fox patted his brother's back. "Yew kin be cap'n o' der Bludgullet, dat's wot!"

The younger fox's tailstump quivered with joy. "Me, a real cap'n? Bludd'n'tripes, ya won't regret it, brudder. I'll be der best cap'n in all der seas, jus' yew wait'n see. Hee-heehee, me, a cap'n!"

Vizka ushered him to the cabin door. "Aye, yew a cap'n. Now go an' keep Bludgullet onna straight south course, an'

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don't strain yer brains wid too much thinkin'. Oh, an' remind der crew t'stay clear o' Rock'ead, an' not t'give 'im any vittles, norra crumb nor a drop, unnerstand?"

Grinning foolishly, Codj threw a clumsy salute. "Aye aye, Cap'n, unnerstood, Cap'n!" He held the salute, standing there grinning, until Vizka was forced to enquire.

"Well, wot d'ya want?"

Codj giggled inanely, winking several times. "Ain't ya gonna say 'aye aye, Cap'n' back ter me?"

The golden fox frowned. "No, I ain't, yore norrin charge aboard dis ship yet, I'm still cap'n, gerron wid ya werk!" He slammed the door in his younger brother's face.

Codj looked crestfallen, but only for a brief moment. He brightened up, swaggering off along the deck, practising his role of captain-to-be. Selecting a small, puny-looking rat, Codj jabbed his rump with Gorath's pitchfork, and issued him gruff orders. "Tell der steersbeast t'keep 'er on a south course! Make dem lines fast, an' swab dat deck! But firstly fetch me some vikkles from der galley! Go on, 'op to it!"

Pleasantly surprised that his commands had been carried out so promptly, Codj perched on the rail, out of the prisoner's reach. Making a great show of lip smacking, he applied himself to a bowl of hot soup and a tankard of beer, taunting Gorath. "Haharr, would ya like some vikkles, Rock'ead?"

The young badger crouched silently beside the mast, his forehead wound congealed into a huge, ugly scab. This had been induced by the late Balid, drenching him with pails of cold seawater. Gorath's dark eyes smouldered with hatred at his captor, but he did not rise to the mocking fox's bait. However, Codj continued as he ate.

"Mmmm, nice drop o' soup dis, made wid veggibles from yore farm it was. Beer's tasty, too, did yew brew it, or was it de old 'uns? Heehee, dey ain't got much use fer eatin' an' drinkin' now, 'ave they?"

With a sudden roar, Gorath charged his tormentor,

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giving out a strangled grunt as he was jolted to a halt by the chain. Shocked by the speed of the badger's rush, Codj jerked backward, spilling soup and beer over himself. Recovering himself, he sneered.

"Shame ya can't git yore paws on me, ain't it? Ya look t'irsty, I'll give ye annuder drink, eh!" Lowering a pail into the sea, Codj flung it over Gorath. The young badger stood unmoving, he did not even blink his eyes as the cold salt water lashed over him. Some of the vermin crew, who were watching, laughed at Codj's feeble attempt to rouse the prisoner further. This drove the stumptailed fox into a rage. He began shouting at Gorath. "Did ya like dat likkle drink, Rock'ead, d'ya want some more, eh? Ahoy, thick'ead Rock'ead, I said d'ya want some more, ye can talk, can't ya?"

Gorath stared unblinkingly at him, then spoke. "I can talk, but I don't waste my breath speaking to deadbeasts."

With an expression of comical surprise on his face, Codj looked around at his shipmates. "Did ya 'ear dat? De stripe'ound called me a deadbeast! Idjit, I fink Vizka musta knocked yore brains loose when 'e belted ya wid 'is mace. Can't ya see I'm still alive an' kickin'? See, I'll give ya anud-der drink, jus' to prove it!"

Even as the contents of the pail sloshed over him, Gorath was still staring at his torturer. This time his voice was dismissive, heavy with contempt.

"You murdered my kinbeasts, so I'm going to kill you. I've said all I have to say to you ... deadbeast!"

Dark blood began rising in Gorath's eyes, clouding them with the fury of Bloodwrath. At that point, Codj's nerve deserted him. Dropping the pail, he fled aft. Still dripping water, the young badger stood, staring after his mortal enemy.

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3

With Salamandastron, his beloved fortress, at his back, Lord Asheye sat on his favourite rock, not far from the front entrance of the mighty mountain stronghold. Turning seaward, the ancient badger sniffed salt-laden air, mingling with the softer aroma of landward breezes. Producing a big, spotted kerchief from his dressing gown sleeve, he blew his snout loudly, and inhaled again. Ah yes, spring was finally done, it was the first day of summer. Tapping the butt of his yew staff against the rock, he hummed one of the Long Patrol hares' marching songs, singing along mentally with the tune.

"Can ye see the golden gorse on the heath, an' dainty pale blue flax upon the plain, do ye feel the dewy grass underneath, then step lively, 'tis summertime again!