.f horde, he merely followed at a short distance, going and com-JA ing as he pleased. Raptail trotted off to do his master's bid-i ding, dodging around rocks and behind sand barriers. ;, Farran sat alone at the edge of the tideline, watching the
-I', waves ebb and flow. Raptail did his level best to keep in full view, not wishing to be seen trying to sneak up on Farran the Poisoner. Wading into the sea, he drew alongside the black f fox and delivered the message.
* "Sir, my master Ferahgo wishes to speak with you. He is 'V camped in the rocks north of here. Will you attend, sir?" V Raptail's body shivered nervously as he stood staring into ; the pale amber eyes of Farran. Nobeast had ever heard the
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Poisoner speak. The sunlight did not glint off Farran's fur; it was soot-black with no luster whatsoever. The pale eyes stared hypnotically at Raptail from a face dark as the depths of midnight. All the horrific whispered tales he had heard of Farran loomed large. Was it true that he could kill with a long stare? Raptail fervently believed it was as he stood transfixed by the Poisoner's eyes.
"W-w-will you attend, sir? F-F-Ferahgo wishes to know." Unblinking, Farran stared at him a moment longer then nodded once. That was enough. Raptail bowed so low that his snout went underwater. "Th-th-thank you, sir!"
He took off like a startled fawn, splashing through the waves and dashing across the shore. Farran's sinister eyes followed his course expressionlessly. Slowly the black fox stood up and buckled on his belt of adderskin. Pouches hung from the belt, small sacks made from the skins of bats. What they contained only he knew. Moving like a silent stormcloud shadow, he padded noiselessly over the sand.
Seated at the outermost edge of his camp, away from the horde, Ferahgo outlined his plan to Klitch and the four creatures he had selected as Captains.
"Siege! No mad charges, paw-to-paw battles or out-and-out fightinga siege is the thing that will conquer the mountain. Sooner or later the badger and his hares will run out of arrows, spears, javelins and boulders. I have him bottled up inside his mountain; he cannot leave. We have superior numbers and time on our side. Nobeast is coming to his rescue. All we have to do is snipe from safety and wait him out. Now, there is one question, can anybeast guess what it is?''
"Food and water!" Klitch answered.
Ferahgo chuckled at his son's quickness. "Right. Someday you may turn out half as clever as your father. Food and drinkhow much have they got and how long will it last them, that's the question!"
Crabeyes was an ex-searat. His eyes shifted constantly, never staying still. He held up a paw. "Master, they might 'a've vittles enough ter last them fer seasons to come. Admit-
ted they can't get out while we've got 'em surrounded, but if they 'ave enough food 'n' drink they could stay snug in there forever."
Badtooth, a large fat stoat, agreed with him. "Crabeyes is right, Master. If they 'ave enough supplies we could die of old age waitin' out 'ere on this shore."
Ferahgo pawed at the gold medal on his neck. His blue eyes shone happily as he unfolded his master stroke. "But we won't die of old age. Neither will Urthstripe and his fighters. They will die pretty soon now of something else."
There was a sharp intake of breath from Klitch and the four Captains as the shadow of Farran fell across them. Hurriedly they moved aside to make room for him, each one shivering with fear as he passed them. Farran chose his own place, directly in front of the Assassin.
Blue eyes met amber ones as they faced each other.
Ferahgo smiled ingratiatingly. "Well well, the Poisoner meets the Assassinwhat a combination. But we have worked together in the past, Farran, and I have always rewarded you well, have I not?"
The black fox merely nodded once in acknowledgment.
Ferahgo averted his eyes, knowing the danger in Farran's constant stare. He took out his skinning knife and whetted it slowly against a rock, speaking as he did.
"Friend Farran, if I were to launch a nighttime attack on the mountain, could you slip through the lines and find a way in?"
Farran nodded once. That was enough for Ferahgo.
"Good! Once you were inside it would be up to you to find the food and drinking water. I imagine that the mountain \ will be a honeycomb of passages and side-cuts, but you could find the larders no matter how many chambers and corridors you had to explore, eh, Farran? When you do, I want everything eatable or drinkable to be poisoned with your most deadly fluids. No creature is to be left alive in Salamandas-tron."
Farran nodded then held out a paw. Ferahgo understood. Standing alongside the Poisoner, he drew close lo his ear and
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whispered in a voice so low that none of the others heard: "Your fee is half the badger's treasure. Is it a bargain?"
Farran's nod was final; the pact was sealed. He gave Fer-ahgo one long last glance, then padded off silently.
There was a loud sigh of relief when he had gone. Ferahgo turned to the others. "Now do you think my plan will work?"
They all nodded agreement, even Klitch.
Ferahgo sheathed his skinning knife. "Then tonight is the night. Here is what you must do ..."
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"Towels, more towels. Damp them down with rosewater, please!"
Brother Hollyberry bustled about the beds that had been set up in the upper gallery, mopping a brow here, administering a dose there, tucking blankets in firmer.
"Please lie still, Burrley. Plenty of cool drinks and sweat it out under those blankets, there's a good mole!"
Sister Nasturtium looked up from the table where she was working with bowl and pestle and wiped her brow. "We're running low on dried motherwort and lemon verbena, Brother. This is the last of it I'm using."
Thrugann put aside a napkin she was dipping in rosewater. "Leave that t' me, Sister. I'll take a trip into Mossflower Woods right now an' gather some. Anythin' else you need while I'm in the woodlands, Brother?"
Hollyberry scratched his chin. "Hmm, nightshade berries light red ones if you can, the dark red berries are far too squashy. Perhaps you can take a look around for Dumble while you're there, Thrugann."
"That liddle snippet." The otterlady shook her head and chuckled. "I told you once nor a dozen times he's gone off with that brother of mine. Dumble an' Thrugg are close as
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peas in a pod, you take my word for it."
"Oh, I do hope you're right." Abbess Vale left off laying out clean sheets and sat down on the side of a truckle bed.
A small mole named Droony took a large sucking swig of cold mint tea and half sat up.
"Oh, she'm be roight, marm, never'ee fear. Oi see'd Dum-ble meself, just afore 'ee went off, an' 'ee said as ee'd fetch me back Oicetor Flowern t' make oi better, so 'im did, hurr."
Sister Nasturtium ground the pestle hard into the bow!. "Droony, you naughty liddle creature, why did you not tell us this before now?"
The small mole let his head fall back on to the pillow. "Oi'm surry, Sister Aspersium, oi wurr sick as an owd frog."
Nasturtium hurried over and drew the blankets gently up to his chin. She wiped the furry little brow with a napkin. "Yes of course you were, Droony. I didn't mean to be sharp with you. Forgive me."
She sat down on the edge of the bed and mopped her own brow. "Whew! Is it hot in here, or is it just me?"