Ruff answered for the Badger Lord. "Aye, mate, but if we carries on cuttin' off their vittles Trunnll git desperate sooner or later, an' they'll come out in force after us. With the numbers they got, we'll lose!"
There was a murmur of agreement. Brocktree held up his paws. "Good. That's what I was hoping you'd say 'tis what I was thinking myself. But I have a plan!"
"Burr, then do ee tell uz ee plan, zurr. Us'n's gettin' orful 'ungered settin' owt yurr!"
General laughter greeted Gurth's good mole logic. Grenn had food brought out by the Guosim, Drucco's rabblehogs lending a paw.
It was late afternoon by the time Brocktree finished outlining his plan, which was wholeheartedly approved. Bucko winked admiringly at the badger. "Ah ken noo why Badger Lairds are braw canny beasts!"
Brocktree's fierce dark eyes looked appraisingly around. "Everybeast here has their own special part to play. I know 'tis a perilous and risky scheme, but I think it'll work. So, are you with me? Hold up your paws all in favor."
Not one creature held back. Every paw went up. Skittles held up all four paws, lying flat on his back.
"Us wiv ya, B'ock mate!"
The difficult part was explaining to Frutch and the very old ones, who would be remaining behind, hidden in the supply cave. Brogalaw tried to placate his weeping mother.
"Hush now, Mum, we'll take that ole mountain quicker'n you can say nail me rudder. You can 'ave a nice liddle room there, all of yore own, an' a rock garden, too. You alius wanted a rock garden, didn't you, me ole darlin'?"
But Frutch was not to be consoled. "Go an' do wot you gotta do, Brogalaw, but come back alive t'me, ye great tailwhackin' lump. Never mind tryin' to get 'round me wid mountain caves an' rock gardens. When this is all over, I don't want none of it. Tell ye wot I would like, thoughto go back down southcoast, to our ole 'ome. Oh, I do miss it!"
Blench loaned Frutch a corner of her apron to weep into. The old cook patted Brog's paw. "We'll take good care of yore mum, Brog. You get goin' now. Get our mountain back for us. Fates'n'seasons o' fortune go with ye. Oh, an' keep an eye out for that niece o' mine. Dorothea's a brave hare, but young an' 'eadstrong."
Brog gave the old cook a hug. "Bless yore 'eart, marm, I'll do me best for us all, you got my word. Stay safe now an' don't weep too much, it makes the bread soggy."
On the way out of the cave, Brog stopped to stroke the heron's long neck and speak softly to the bird. "You stay 'ere now, my ole matey. Take good care of these old 'uns an' don't stay out fishin' too long. I'll see you when 'tis all done, I 'ope!"
Rulango laid his beak on Brog's shoulder and blinked, and the sea otter Skipper patted him roughly. "Come on now, ye ole rogue, don't start gettin' soft on me." Brogalaw did quite a bit of blinking himself, then he straightened up, sniffed loudly, and left the cave.
A great pile of wood, sea coal and grass had been heaped not far from the front of the old cave. Everybeast was gathered there when Brog arrived.
"All ready, Brock. I've just been makin' me farewells to Mum an' the old 'uns."
Dotti clapped a paw to her mouth. "Aunt Blench! I forgot to say goodbye to her!"
Brog shouldered his javelin. "I already did that, missie. She said that you got to take good care o' me. Liddle Skittles was sleepin' an' Mirklewort is stayin' back to keep an eye on things. There ain't a thing to keep us now, so let's be about our work!"
Lord Brocktree turned to Jukka the Sling. Nobeast would have recognized her from the disguise she wore. The squirrel Chieftain had been dyed blue, her tail was shaven and she wore a Hordebeast's uniform. Brocktree nodded approvingly. "You look like a true vermin, friend. Now, you know what you have to do?"
"Aye, lord. As soon as the bluebottoms leave the mountain, I will shoot a burning shaft from one of the high windows."
Brocktree clasped Jukka's paw. "Good luck!"
"Huh, an' try not to plunder anythin' until we get there!"
Jukka eyed Fleetscut coldly. "When 'tis all over, thou an' I will have a reckoning!" Then she turned and hurried off toward Salamandastron.
Ruff shook his head in disapproval at Fleetscut. "It's not good to go into battle with bad blood 'twixt you two. Right, who's next to go, mates?"
Durvy and Konul stepped forward with their crew. Strapped to each one's back was a torch, wrapped tightly to protect it from the seawater. Brog issued final instructions. "Don't start anythin' until you see this fire in front o' the cave lit an' blazin' well. Fortune go with ye, mates!" The sea otters slipped silently off seaward.
Brocktree looked around at those left, and took Ruff's paw. "Your turn now, friend. You and Brog look after yourselves!"
"An' you do likewise, Lord Brocktree of Brock'all!"
Dotti and Log a Log Grenn stood watching as Brog and Ruff led the squirrels and rabblehogs off into the gathering evening. They climbed the cliffs and began a long sweep south.
"Ah well, chaps, that leaves only us now, wot?" Dotti observed.
Bucko Bigbones exposed his teeth in a wide grin. "Aye, lassie, so whit'n the name o' seasons are we hangin' aboot for? Let's be awa, mah bairns!"
Brocktree's hefty paw descended on Bucko's shoulder. "You stay close to me, sir, and none of your mad March mountain hare antics out of you, understand?"
Bucko checked the six long daggers he had thrust in his belt. "Ach, ah'll be as quiet as a wee molebabe, eh, Gurth?"
"Oi'm 'opin' ee will, zurr. Oi wurr a gudd h'infant moiself."
Stiffener led the little army off through the dunes. "We'll get up as close t'the tunnel afore dark as we can."
Dotti fell in between Southpaw and Bobweave, who were simultaneously loading their slings.
"Splendid evenin' for a jolly old war, eh, miss Dotti?"
"Rather! I say, d'you want me to load your sling, miss Dotti?"
"Tut tut, old chap, I'm the sling-loader 'round here, y'know!"
The haremaid rescued her sling from the irrepressible twins. "Oh, give it a rest, you two, I'm perfectly capable of loadin' me own bloomin' sling. Besides, Mother always told me to beware of sling-loadin' types."
"Wise old mater, wot?"
"Pretty, too, if she looks anythin' like her daughter!"
At a gruff cough from the Badger Lord, they fell silent.
Darkening clouds merged with dusky sky overhead, and the last crimson sunrays shimmered over the horizon, flaring briefly across the waves. A warm vagrant breeze stirred grass on the dunetops. Night fell, with moonshadows transforming the landscape into a patchwork of silver sand and velvet shadow. Dotti could scarce suppress a shudder of excitement and apprehension. The battle to win back Salamandastron had finally begun!
Chapter 33
Ungatt Trunn paced the mountain passages like a caged beast, agitated and impatient. Everywhere he went, guards stood stiffly to attention in the torchlit corridors, holding their breath as he prowled by, his long cloak swishing. From the top level of the inner mountain he went, through every floor to the bottom. Only the sound of restless waves greeted the wildcat as he emerged, past the sentries, out onto the shore. Two searats rowed a small gig into the shallows. Leaping out, they dragged it ashore.
Captain in Chief Karangool stepped onto the beach. "Might'ness, is quiet this night."
Ungatt Trunn stroked his whiskers slowly. "Too quiet altogether. I don't like it, captain. 'Tis as if something is waiting to happen. Can you feel it, too?"
"Yah, Might'ness."
Together they strolled back to the main mountain entrance. Patrols had been doubled around the perimeter, and six guards, with Ripfang at their head, marched around from the north side. They halted, saluting Trunn with their spears. He nodded to Ripfang.
"Anything to report, captain?"
"Nary a thing, sir. 'Tis like walkin' 'round a buryin' ground out there, but we're keepin' a sharp lookout!"
Fragorl interrupted further conversation. She hurried out of the main entrance, her dark cloak flapping like a bird of ill omen. She pointed. "Mighty One, over there, by the cliff side, northward, I saw it from my windowa fire!"