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Lord Stonepaw merely grunted. "Hah! You might have felt the earth tremble, cat, but Salamandastron remained rock-firmwe didn't feel a thing. Now let me show you something!"

Stonepaw hurled his big war javelin right at his foe. The ranks closed around the wildcat. A rat, transfixed, fell dead, another behind him sorely wounded. No matter how fearsome the foe, or how great their numbers, when it came to fighting, Badger Lords were renowned. Old as he was, the present ruler was no exception. Lord Stonepaw of Salamandastron had begun the war.

Fleetscut was close to total exhaustion. The old hare had not stopped since he left the mountain. Ranging east to begin with, then sweeping back west in a great arc, he searched hills, flatlands, valleys and clifftops, finally arriving back on the shores, somewhere north of Salamandastron. Slumping down on the beach, he waited until his breathing calmed a bit before unslinging a small pack and drinking some cold mint tea.

Like an angry wasp, a barbed arrow buzzed by the hare, nicking his ear and burying itself in the sand. A small patrol, ten rats, from the great Blue Hordes emerged from the dunes behind Fleetscut.

"Stop there. Move an' you die!" their officer shouted.

With blood trickling from his ear onto his jaw, Fleetscut took off as only a hare can, galvanized back to his former self as he sought to lose his pursuers. But the rats were hard on his paws as he led them on a twisting course around the shore and back into the dunes. With his footpaws sinking deep into the soft sandhills, Fleetscut panted raggedly, strong sunlight beating down on him as he breasted one dune and rolled down it to face another. He wished with all his heart that he were many seasons youngerhe could have drawn circles around the rat patrol when he was a leveret. Every so often arrows zipped into the sand alongside him; once a spear almost pierced his footpaw. Fleetscut kept going. He knew that a moving target was the hardest to hit. Now, as he turned inland, the dunes gave way to hummocks and hillocks, coated with sharp, long-bladed grass. He tripped over a blackberry creeper, leaping up as best he could, ignoring the scratches the thorns had inflicted on him. But he could hear the labored breathing of the ten rats getting closer.

"Fan out an' circle him. Lame him if y'can!" their leader rasped out.

Straining as though his lungs would burst, Fleetscut managed an extra turn of speed, dashing headlong to outdistance the flanking maneuver. A small grove of pines appeared up ahead, seeming to offer a hiding place. But one rat, faster than the rest, detached himself from the flankers and went directly after the hare. No matter how hard he ran, Fleetscut could not prevent the rat closing up on him. Now he was not more than ten paces behind. Chancing a backward glance, Fleetscut saw the rat preparing his spear for a throw. Then his footpaws hit thick beds of pine needles as he dived headlong into the grove, the spear thudding into a pine trunk a fraction to his side. Next moment there was the sound of a meaty thud. The rat fell poleaxed, his scream cut short by a slingshot.

"Up with thy paws, old 'un, quick!"

Without thinking Fleetscut rolled over and threw up his paws. A thick woven net enveloped him, and he grabbed tight as he was swung off his back into the branches above.

A big, rough-looking female squirrel, with a loaded sling dangling from one paw, winked at him. "Don't thee say a word now, longears, be still!" Sighting the rats entering the fir grove, she glared fiercely about her at forty-odd squirrels, similarly armed, concealed in the upper branches. "Take no prisoners. T'the Dark Forest with 'em all!"

Whock! Thwack! Thock! Thud!

In less time than it took to draw breath the rat column was slain to a beast, strewn about the bottom of the pines, some of them with their eyes still wide open in surprise. Leaving Fleetscut still caught up in the net, the squirrel and her band leapt down onto the corpses, stripping every scrap of armor and every weapon from them. Squabbles broke out over the ownership of possessions, and there was much tooth-baring.

"I sighted yon sword first. Give it 'ere!"

"Nah, 'tis mine, not thine. I slew the longtail!"

The big female squirrel was among them like a whirlwind, sending argumentative ones winded to the earth as she clubbed their stomachs savagely with her loaded sling.

"I say who gets what! Up on thy paws, Beddle, or I'll give ye more'n just a love tap next time!"

One young male muttered something, and she laid him flat with a tremendous smack. "Thee've been told about usin' language like that, Grood! Can ye not see we've got company? Behave now, all a' ye!"

Fleetscut strove to disentangle himself from the net. "Stap me, any bloomin' chance o' gettin' out o' this, you chaps? Lend a paw here!" he called down.

The female squirrel and two equally big males bounded up and lowered the net expertly to the earth, where the others soon had Fleetscut free. Somersaulting neatly out of the tree, the big female landed lightly on her footpaws.

Fleetscut bowed gravely to her. "'Thanks for savin' my life, marm."

She examined a dead rat's bow and arrows. "Twasn't to save thy life we dropped 'em. Weapons an' plunder, that's why we slew the longtails. I'm called Jukka the Sling, and these are my tribe. Be you from the mountain south o' here?"

The hare nodded. "Aye. My name's Fleetscut."

Jukka sat, her tailbrush against a pine trunk. "Ye've got big trouble o'er there, Fleetscut. We been watchin' blue vermin marchin' downcoast for days, all headed for thy mountain."

Fleetscut crouched down, facing her. "That's only a third o' them, Jukka marm. There's as many must've come up from the south an' another horde from the sea, great fleet o' the blighters."

Jukka watched her band dragging the rats off for burial. "Old badger'll have his paws full. They'll massacre him. Hares on yon mount be as old as theethy young 'uns are long gone from there."

Fleetscut was mildly surprised at Jukka's intelligence. "You seem t'know rather a lot about Salamandastron?"

The squirrel wound her sling around her tailtip. '"Tis my business to know what goes on hither an' yon. Only a fool would live a lifetime in these parts an' know nought of them. Did ye escape the mountain, Fleetscut?"

The old hare shook his head sadly. "No, I was sent out by Lord Stonepaw to scout up reinforcements, but there ain't a bally hare 'round here anymore. Don't suppose you'd fancy helpin' us out, marm?"

Jukka tossed a slingstone deftly from one paw to the other. "Nay, not I, nor my tribe, e'en though I pity thy plight, friend. Other creatures' troubles are their own, not ours. But that doesn't mean we don't show hospitality to guests. Thee must be weary and hungered, too. Come rest awhile an' sup with us. Thou art too tired to go further, friend."

Fleetscut heaved a sigh as he rose stiffly. "Sorry, marm, but I have to travel on, wot. Can't let the jolly old side down by takin' time off."

He accepted Jukka's paw, and she smiled wryly at him. "Fare thee well, old 'un. Fortune attend thy search."

"Aye, an' good luck to you, Jukka the Sling. Let me know if you change your mind. You've got a perilous tribe there, good warriors all!"

Jukka watched Fleetscut lope off through the pine grove. "Huh, brave an' foolish, like all hares. What say you, Grood?" The young squirrel muttered half to himself, half to Jukka. She whacked him soundly across both ears. "Thee've been told about that language. I'll scrub thy mouth out with sand an' ramsons if there be any more of it!"

Chapter 8

At the inlet camp, dawn was already well advanced, and dewdrops glistened on the blossoms of hemlock, marsh-wort and angelica. From upstream the constant call of a cuckoo roused Dotti from sleep. She lay there for a moment, expecting her nostrils to be assailed by the odors of woodsmoke and cooking. However, the haremaid was disappointed. Apart from the monotonous cuckoo noise, the little camp was quiet and ominously still. Rising cautiously, she checked around. The elm tree trunk lay moored in the shallows, but of her two friends there was no sign. Taking care not to raise her voice too much, Dotti hailed her companions.