"Och, 'twas a piece o' cake, lassie. Yon hog was nought but a great fat brawler. Ahey, you're a pretty wee thing, ain't ye!"
Dotti did not want to appear overimpressed by Bucko, so she stiffened both ears and looked distant. "Actually pretty's the wrong word, sah. I'm a fatal beauty, really. Runs in the family, y'know."
Bucko smiled as he chucked her under the chin. "Och, away with ye, missie, ah've seen fatal beauties an' yer no one o' those. Still, like ah say, yer a pretty wee thing."
He swept by her and was carried off on the shoulders of his jubilant supporters. Ruff noticed Dotti's quivering lip and angry features, and put a paw about her shoulders. "Ahoy there, me ole mate, wot's wrong with yore face?"
The haremaid shrugged off Ruff's paw. "Nothing. There's absolutely nothing wrong with my face. But I'll jolly well tell you something, Ruff. I don't like that cad Bucko King, or whatever he calls himself. I'd like to take the blighter down a peg or three, wot!"
Ruff stared at her in surprise. "An 'aremaiden like you, Dotti, d'you think you could beat 'im?"
The noise was audible as her teeth ground together. "I don't think ... I know I can beat the blusterin' bounder!"
Campfires burned all over the glade area as night fell warm and soft. Lanterns hung in the trees reflected their colors into the stream. King Bucko's court was celebrating yet another victory by their ruler; the noise and merriment continued unabated. Dotti sat with Fleetscut beneath the willow. The rest of their party had gone off to join in the fun and games.
The old hare had a worried look as he spoke to his young friend. "I say, dash it all, miss Dotti, I was the one who should've challenged Bucko Bigbones, not you, a young haremaid, wot!"
Dotti poured cider for Fleetscut. "Sorry, old chum, y'far too old, he'd eat you. Besides, you ain't the one he bloomin' well insulted. The honor of the Duckfontein Dillworthys was at stakeI had to challenge the rotter. Not a fatal beauty, eh? I'll show him!"
The dark bulk of Lord Brocktree loomed up out of the night. He joined the two hares beneath the willow, shaking his head at Dotti. "I delivered your challenge to Bucko Bigbones. Sorry, miss, he wouldn't accept it."
The haremaid sprang up, eyes flashing angrily. "Wouldn't accept it? What d'you mean, sah?"
The Badger Lord shrugged. "He just flatly refused to accept any challenge from a young maid. I delivered the message formally, with due gravity and ceremonyit was all done with proper dignity."
Dotti was quivering all over, apart from her ears, which stood up ramrod straight. "And what did the blaggard say? Tell me, sah, word for word!"
Brocktree's huge paws fiddled about with a thin branch. "He said you should be at home," he explained, almost apologetically, "helping your mama to do the washing, and that the whole thing was a silly little joke. Then he laughed with his cronies for a while and told me to tell you there was no way he was going to fight a haremaiden. Said one tap of his paw and your face wouldn't be so pretty, not with a broken jaw. His final words were: 'Learn to cook and stay clear of real warriors, before you become fatally injured, with no chance of ever becoming a fatal beauty.' That's it, as best as I can remember, miss."
Dotti grabbed Fleetscut roughly and hauled him upright. "Give me that barkscroll you were telling me about, the one found by that Rabblehog. Give it t'me this bloomin' instant!"
The old hare rummaged in his tunic and produced the battered and stained scroll. Dotti snatched it from him.
"Listen t'this, sahthe blighter's own challenge!" Her voice shaking with temper, she read the lines aloud.
"Come mother, father, daughter, son,
My challenge stands to anybeast!
I'll take on all, or just the one,
Whether at the fight or feast!
Aye, try to beat me an' defeat me,
Set 'em up, I'll knock 'em down!
Just try to outbrag me, you'll see,
King Bucko Bigbones wears the crown!"
She waved the tattered barkscroll in Brocktree's face. "Now, sah, you've heard it. Is that a challenge or not, wot?"
The Badger Lord nodded gravely. "Couldn't be any clearer, 'tis a challenge right enough!"
Dotti quickly rolled the scroll and jammed it in her belt. "Huh, that's flippin' well good enough for me. Come on!"
She stormed off, her footpaws almost punching holes in the ground. A wide grin spread across the badger's face. He took hold of Fleetscut's paw, tugging him along in her wake. "Hurry along, old one, I wouldn't miss this for a feast prepared by Longladle himself. Things are going to plan, even better than I dared hope they would!"
King Bucko was in high good humor. He sat on his treefork throne, swilling dandelion beer and laughing uproariously with his comrades as he relived the fight with Ironspikes that afternoon.
"Och, the fat auld fraud wiz swingin' both paws like a windmill an' puffin' like a northeast gale, d'ye ken. So ah just ducked an' came up wi' mah guid auld left cross. Whacko! Did ye see the big braw pincushion topple, hahaha!"
"Aye, y'pick the easy marks, don't you, Bucko?"
The laughter ceased. All eyes turned on Dotti, who was standing, paws akimbo, on the bottom log step. The king waved his scepter dismissively at her. "Ach, awa' wi' ye, lassie, go an' look fer some babbies t'nurse." Sycophant hares around the throne guffawed loudly.
Dotti bounded up the steps and shook out the bark-scroll. She thrust it under the king's nose. "It says here that you'll fight mother, father, daughter or son. That's what it says. Right?"
The big mountain hare flicked the scroll from her paws with his scepter and tossed it over his shoulder. "Mebbe et does, mebbe et don't. Whit are ye gettin' so stirred up aboot, mah pretty one?"
Dotti's paw prodded him hard in the chest. "Don't you ever call me your pretty one, you great blowbag! I'm here to take up your challenge!"
One of the guards tried to lay paws on Dotti for prodding his king. He froze as a swordpoint from below tickled his tail. Lord Brocktree was staring up at him.
"Stay out of this, or I'll make it my fight with you!"
Dotti prodded Bucko again, harder this time. "Well?"
The king's former good humor was fast deserting him. "Ach! Ah'm nae goin' tae fight wi' no wee haremaid. Whit d'ye think I am, a bully?"
Dotti marched off down the steps, her nose in the air. "Since you ask, sah, I'll tell you what I think you are. You're no king, just a liar an' a coward!"
In the horrified silence that followed, King Bucko came bounding down the steps after her, paws clenched tight. "Yerrah! Ye whey-faced whelp, we'll settle this right here an' noo. Ah'll no have a lassie cheekin' me!"
He scratched a line in the ground with his scepter and tossed it aside. Placing his footpaw on the line, he snarled, "Get yer fuitpaw on this mark here an' spit like this!" He put up his paws in fighting stance and spat over the other side of the line.
Dotti gave him a frozen glare. "Didn't your mater ever tell you 'tis rank bad manners to spit? Disgusting habit, sah, but quite in keeping with your form, wot."
Lord Brocktree stepped in, pointing his sword at Bucko. "No quick paw-the-mark scraps here, Bigbones. Let's do it properly at the designated time. Now, do you accept this hare's challenge, answer yes or no?"
The mountain hare's expression was murderous as he grated out his reply. "Aye, stripedawg, ah accept the challenge. Ye'll be hearin' from mah seconds afore midnight!"
Brocktree tipped a paw to his stripes courteously. "Thank you, I'll look forward to it. I bid you good night."
As they strode off, the badger took Fleetscut's paw. "Hurry, go and get Gurth, Jukka, Ruff and Log a Log Grenn. Tell them to meet us by the willows on the streambank. Go!"
Dotti looked shaken. Brocktree patted her back gently. "Calm down now, miss. Temper's the sign of a loserit affects the reason too much. We've got to start your education, and there's not a lot of time to do it in. That's always provided you want to win, eh?"