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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 assured 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."

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"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 shore, 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 hoarse shout. "Look out! Yurr they'm a-cummen!"

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 brass 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

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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 mass of