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So the creatures of Salamandastron lay down to rest, each one with their own

thoughts.

The second glorious day of summer rolled on toward night.

The black ship Bloodwake sailed closer with every wave.

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Bane had an idea.

"Now that the woodlanders have gone," he suggested cunningly, "why don't we

sneak out of Kotir and hide ourselves in the bushes at the edge of the forest?

We could hide right behind the position they held this morning. That way,

we'll be able to turn the ambush on them if they come back tomorrow for

another dawn attack."

"Huh huhuhu, good idea, fox," Brogg chuckled encouragingly.

Tsarmina turned a frosty stare upon the Captain; the chuckle died to a gurgle

in his throat. Near open enmity was the order of the day now between her and

Bane. She was sorry she had ever let him and his band inside her gates.

"Fool, Brogg," she snarled. "Can't you see this fox only wants us out of Kotir

so that he and his raggedy band can slip in behind our backs?"

Bane spread his paws wide disarmingly. "Hoho, if that's what you think, lady."

"Yes, that's exactly what I think, fox!" Tsarmina snapped back.

"That's a problem easily solved." Bane shrugged. "You stay in here with your

deadhead Captain; I take the forces out into the woods. In fact, I'll take

them tonight, so that we can be well hidden by the time the woodlanders

arrive."

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Tsarmina sniffed. "That's a better idea. I'll agree to that, Bane."

The fox laughed. He drew his sword and held it out. "Think you can trust me,

or would you like to confiscate my sword?"

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

bass 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

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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 cocked 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,

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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

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may bring the woodlanders to stay with us. This place is too for away for