Samkim and Arula had now caught up with Spriggat. Instantly all three were surrounded by shrews with drawn rapiers and heavy wooden paddles. A mean, thin-looking shrew was shouting, "Kill them. It's the rest of the fox's gang. Kill them!"
Without thinking, Samkim threw back his head and yelled, "Redwaaaaaaalllll!"
The shrews held still a moment, surprised by the call. A fat old shrew, gray with many seasons, pushed his way through, belaboring about him with a knobbly blackthorn stick.
"Enough of this killin' talk, can't y'see these beasts aren't
224
Brian Jacques
vermin? Stand aside, get out o' me way, Gousssom!"
The shrew who had been struck by Spriggat rose, moaning as he nursed a sizable bump between his ears, "Kill the hedgepig. He tried t' murder me. Oooohhhh!"
The old shrew brandished his stick at the speaker. "One more word, Racla, an' I'll raise another lump atop of the one the hog gave to ye. Now then, you lot, put up those weapons. Do as I say or I'll lay about yer with me stick!"
Muttering sullenly, they complied, and the old shrew winked at Samkim.
"I'm Alfoh the Elder. We're a colony of Guosssom shrewsthere's tribes of shrews all along this stream, part of the main Guerrilla Union. We pride ourselves on being the most civilized and reasonable of all the Guosssom tribes that's why we call our group a colony and not a tribe, y' see. But I suppose any shrew-band has its loudmouths an' hotheads, like young Racla there. Still, I don't suppose he's altogether to blame after what happened here last night. A fox and five rats mounted a sneak attack here, while we were half asleep. They stole our best logboat an' killed four of our shrews. One of the dead was Racla's brotherthat's why he ran the rat through without stoppin' to ask questions. Anyhow, we'll all sit down t'gather an' take a bite an' a sup, then you can tell me your end of the story."
Twilight gleamed on the streamwaters. Seated in a large comfortable cavern facing the bank, the three friends related their tale as Alfoh's colony members sat around listening. Hot acorn and chestnut dip was served with arrowroot wafers, a large honeyed plumcake was brought out in their honor, and dandelion wine and redcurrant cordial flowed freely. Spriggat munched away as he longingly watched two dragonflies hovering over the stream outside.
When the friends had finished their narrative Alfoh leaned back in his deep pawchair and nodded. "I saw your sword, it was a most wonderful piece of craft-beastshipbadger-made, I'd guess. Now, my friends, what to do about all this? If the fox is a good navigator he will eventually make his way
Salanumdostron
225
down to the sea, though if he's never sailed these waters before you can take it from me he'll be as lost as a fish up a mountain."
Samkim clasped his paws across a full stomach. "Do you think we'll be able to catch him up?"
Alfoh pondered the question for a moment. "Maybe we could, but there are four ways he could go: down to the sea, into the great lake, or up one of the back creeks that leads to a dead endall of these routes we could follow and catch up with him. The other way leads under the mountains. No creature would be stupid enough to follow anybeast that way."
Arula blinked. "Whoi be that, zurr?"
Alfoh took a sip of wine and explained, ' There are rapids, a giant waterfall and caves. Besides, nobeast knows whether you would come out on the other side of the mountain or keep going down into the earth forever."
Racla touched the lump on his head gingerly; his eyes were hot and angry as he glared at Spriggat. "I'm not sorry I killed that rat. First thing in the morning I'm goin' after the others. The fox is mine; he killed my brother."
Alfoh's paw strayed dangerously near his blackthorn stick. "You'll stay where you are until I give the word, young Racla. Tomorrow we'll take the other three boats and all go together. As for revenge upon the fox, I think Samkim has a prior claim to you. He needs to retrieve the sword for his Abbey. Now let's all get some sleep. We've got a full day ahead of us at dawn,"
28
A light breeze from the sea fanned the flames of a small fire among the rocks on the shore by Salamandastron. Klitch and Ferahgo watched each other in the flickering light. They were arguing again. Klitch had scored several points, and his blue eyes twinkled maliciously at his father's show of temper.
"Yah, what do you know?" Ferahgo spat into the flames derisively. "I was leading a horde before you were born. You wouldn't know the back of an army from its front, you snot-nosed little upstart!"
The young weasel grinned, happy that he had his elder upset. "There's only one way to find out, old grayhairgive command of the horde to me. At least I couldn't make a worse mess of things than you're doing."
Ferahgo's eyes blazed with temper. "Worse mess? What worse mess? I've burned all their crops from the mountainside, poisoned all the food and drink they have. And if they're not already dead inside that mountain, now I've got a team tunneling in so that we can make a secret entrance. Go on, smartmouth, tell me what you'd do that's so brilliant?"
"Tunneling in?" Klitch laughed lightly. "Sometimes you amaze me. Do you realize how thick that mountain is? A butterfly would have more chance trying to knock down an
226
Salamandastron
22?
oak tree. When do you expect them to break throughnext week, next season, in ten seasons' time, or twenty?"
The Assassin stood upright, his gold medal gleaming in the firelight. "Come with me. I'll show you!"
Midnight had long gone. Ferahgo's diggers were well ad-vanced, but the Assassin's confidence would have wilted had he seen what awaited him inside Salamandastron, Several hares were listening to the banging and pounding from the outside.
Bart Thistledown grinned wryly as he leaned on his lance. "Well, twist my ears. The crafty ol' blue-eyed villain! Who would've thought he could find the old kitchen drain outlet. It was blocked up when I was a leveret."
Big Oxeye took up a heavy spear and held it poised. "Good thing you heard the diggin' an' gruntin', Barty m'lad. What d'you say we dig from this end, give those chaps a bit of help if they're so anxious to come in?"
Sapwood considered this proposition, then shook his head. "Pers'nally Hi'm agin it meself, an' Lord Urthstripe wouldn't be too 'appy about us 'elpin' vermin. Let 'em do their own diggin'. They should be through afore momin'. We'll just wait 'ere nice 'n' quiet. Penny, you stand by. When I tips yer the wink, run an' fetch 'is Lordship."
Pennybright stifled a youthful giggle. "Righto, Sarge. I can't wait to see what happens when the jolly old vermin break through."
The two Captains, Doghead and Dewnose, were working like madbeasts. They had got about two spearlengths into the rock; the tunnel was going to work. Horde soldiers lined the narrow passage, passing back loose boulders and shields piled high with pebbles and shale. Outside on the moonlit beach, others were disposing of the rubble. Doghead and Dewnose labored hard with iron bars and spearpoints, levering away at the packed mass of stone that blocked the old kitchen drain. Both stoats knew that their lives depended on completing the tunnel; nobeast failed Ferahgo. Together they sweated and Strained to prise out a big slab.
228
Brian Jacques
Salamandastron
229
"Come on, mate. Pull. We've got it!"
"I'm pullin'. Owow! Me paw's jammedwait a sec!"
"Migroo, get yerself up 'ere. Squeeze in there an' hold that bar while Dog'ead gets 'is paw loose."