By the time Migroo and his hunters reached camp, the entire horde was gathered in one place among the rocks. Ferahgo stood apart from them, his eyes as dangerous as thin blue ice on a deep spring lake.
"Ho there, Migroo. Where've you been?"
The stoat was not the brainiest of creatures. He stood scratching his head as he pondered the odd question. "Chasin" the badger an' the hare, Chief, like you told us to."
Ferahgo smiled indulgently. He was enjoying this. "No no, you've got it wrong, Migroo. I never said chase them. I said capture them and bring them back here. Right?"
The stoat was beginning to feel nervous. He swallowed hard. "That's right, Chiefcatcher 'em an1 bring them back 'ere, that's wot you said."
The Assassin's smile swept around the watching horde. He let the tension build a little, then shrugged carelessly. "Well, I don't see a badger and a hare, do you, Migroo?"
The stoat backed off, holding out his paws pleadingly. "Arr now, Chief, we wasn't to blame. We tracked 'em arf the day an' all night through the dunes in the dark an* the storm. We tried, Chief, 'onest we did, but they just vanished in the night when the rain was 'eavy! Eeeeyahhhh!"
Ferahgo's skinning knife had moved like lightning. Migroo was writhing on the ground, clutching the side of his head. The Warlord wiped his blade on Migroo as he stepped over him. When he spoke to the horde he did not raise his voice, but everybeast heard each word distinctly.
"When I give an order I expect it to be carried out. Migroo here was lucky: he only lost an ear. The next one who disobeys me will lose his head. Oh, I know some of you think Ferahgo is getting old...." Here he winked at Klitch. "Or Ferahgo is losing his grip. Some of you even think Ferahgo is going deaf, so you gossip behind his back...." Ferahgo smiled at Forgrin and Raptail; they blanched visibly as he continued.
' 'Let me tell you, Corpsemakers, because who knows about me better than myself? I am Ferahgo the Assassin, scourge
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of all the Southwest Lands, or wherever I choose to set my claw. I was murdering and skinning when most of you were milk-slopping babes. Nobeast can outsmart, outfight or outwit me! Now I am leading you against a mountain fortress to do what you do best, fight! And fight you will, and bleed and die if I say so! You will either end up wealthy and well-fed, or cursing the day you were born ..."
The Assassin leapt onto a nearby rock and twirled his daggers until they flashed like wheels of light in the sun. His blue eyes twinkled like brilliant twin pits of evil as he threw back his head and roared.
"Death to the enemies of Ferahgo!"
Spears, lances, knives, swords, pikes and bows sprang into the air as the rocks resounded with a fearsome chant that ripped from the throat of each Corpsemaker.
"Fer-ah-go! Fer-ah-go! Death! Death! Fer-ah-go!!"
As the evil reptilian head pushed its way into the tiny cave Mara searched frantically for the dagger but could not find it. Pikkle Ffolger did. Wakened by Mara's shout, the startled hare rolled onto the dagger and its point stuck sharply into his rear. With an agonized yell Pikkle leaped forward, butting into the reptile's head. It fell backwards with Pikkle clinging to its neck. Locked together, both creatures tumbled out of the cave. Yelling, hissing, snarling and spitting, they half-fell half-rolled down the steep side of the high dune. Throwing caution to the winds, Mara jumped after Pikkle. She landed with a thud in the sand below and was immediately assailed by the tail of a yellow-bellied sand lizard. The creature had its claws locked in Pikkle's fur, while the young hare had it in a good headlock. Neither would release their grip, as they shouted and snarled fiercely at each other. "Wah! Lemmego, you slimy old reptile." "Gitcha paws off, rabbit, ksss!" "Rabbit y'self. You let me go an' I'll let you go!" "Kkssss! Nan nah, you leggo first. Kksss!" "Fat chance, scalybonce. You leggo first then I will!" Mara solved the problem by giving the lizard's tail a sharp
tug. To her horror, it came off in her paws. Immediately the creature released Pikkle. As it let go, the lizard turned on Mara and spat at her.
"Kkkkssssss! Look watcha done now, stupid stripedog!"
Mara's quick temper rose. She dealt the lizard a blow that sent it spinning head over claw and flung its tail after it. "Don't you dare spit at me, you filthy reptile! And just call me stripedog once more and I'll give you a few stripes to think about. Who in the name of fur do you think you are?"
The lizard sat up, exposing its bright yellow stomach. Its bottom lip began to quiver as it picked up its severed tail. "Kksss! Kaahaa! Just looka that, me bestest tail I've ever growed. Kksss! Tooka me seasins t' grow that. Now looka wotcha did. Kaahaakkssss!"
Neither Mara nor Pikkle could feel any sympathy for the lizard.
Pikkle wagged a stern paw at it. "Serves y' right, bally ol' butterbelly. Frightenin' us out of our cave like that!"
Tears popped from the reptile's eyes as it shook the severed tail at them. "Jawot? Kksss, thatsa mine cave. I duggen it. Kksss! Who said a rabbit anna stripe ... badgerer could use
it? Kksss!"
Pikkle advanced a pace, his ears indignantly erect. "Less of the rabbit, chum, or I'll show you what a doubleback hare-kick looks like!"
: Mara intervened to prevent further grappling. "Look, I'm
S sorry, we didn't know the cave was yours. We only intended .7 spending the night there to shake off our pursuers. You probably saw them searching for us. You should be grateful really, we dug it around a bit and widened it out for you. By the : way, my name is Mara and this is Pikkle Ffolger."
The sand lizard sat sulking, rubbing its tail stump. "Call-a V me Swinkee. Not pleaseter meetcher tho'. Kkssss! Ruint me j cave's far too big fer me now. Kaahaa!"
.i Pikkle sat down alongside the reptile. "Oh, stop blubberin', ;gt; Stinkee, or whatever y' name is. We'll make the cave smaller ,,;.-, if that'll please you, old lad. I say, you don't happen to have 3 a bit of breakfast around, do you?"
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Swinkee began scooping out a hollow to bury his beloved tail, all the time muttering and hissing, "Kssss! Breffist be a fatchance round 'ere, kaahaa. Take me seasins an' seasins ter grow more tail likea that one. Kssss!"
Mara tried reasoning with him. "Look, we're completely lost. Do you know Salamandastron, the big badger mountain on the shore? If you do and you could guide us there, we'll give you as much breakfast as you like."
"Kkssss, swampflies, marshworms, good breffist for Swinkee." The sand lizard shot his tongue in and out several times. "Kkssss, 1 take-a you there for lotsa those. I know mountain."
Pikkle nudged Mara as he addressed the lizard confidently: "Good enough, old sport, wot? We've got loads of jolly old marshflies an' swampworms at the mountain. I expect we could rustle you up a sackful or two. How d'you like 'em, Stinkeefried, boiled or done up in a salad with lettuce an' whatnot?"
Swinkee pulled a face as he stood up, dusting himself off. "Kksss, not boila fry, lizard like 'em alive so's theya wriggle an' wiggle inna mouth, kkssss, mmmmmm! Folia me!"
The day rose hot and bright over the dune country as they trekked between interminable sandhills behind the lizard, completely baffled at the direction in which they were traveling.
"Pikkle, are you sure this creature is guiding us back home?" Mara kept her voice low.
The hare tore up dandelions by the roots. Passing some to Mara, he munched steadily, spitting out the sandy grit. "Who knows, old gel. We're at his mercy really. He could be leading us any ballywhere. S'pose we'll just have to rely on his greed and the promise of two bagfuls of squigglies. Yuk!"