"Owen! OK, I'm free. Now get yer spearpoint in right about 'ere, Migroo. I'll take care of the bar. Watch out, or it'll slide down an' trap yer paws!"
Crabeyes came crawling up the tunnel and pulled their tails. "Outside, you three. The Master an' young Klitch wants to see yer."
They crawled backwards out of the tunnel, scratched, bruised and covered in dust. The Assassin and his son awaited them on the sands. Ferahgo brushed aside their salutes, questioning them anxiously.
"Well, how is it going? Are you nearly through yet?"
Doghead wiped dirt from his eyes and licked his injured paw. "It's just like you said it'd be. Masterall loose rock, none of it solid. We're over two spearlengths in now, shouldn't be too long before we break through."
Ferahgo smiled scornfully, his crinkling blue eyes mocking Klitch. "That sounds like a fine mess, eh, young know-it-all?"
Klitch looked slightly taken aback. "But how did you know it was possible to tunnel at this spot?"
Ferahgo scooped up a pawful of sand and held it under his son's nose. "Kitchen debris, old nutshells, broken bits of potterythat's how. Sometime or other this has been an outlet. When I checked I could see it wasn't part of the original rock, only stones packed in there to block it off. I was right, you see, cleverpaws. Now do you think that the old one is making a mess of things?"
"How wise of you, Father, you have found a way in." Klitch put on an expression of respect and kept his tone apologetic. "Now, are you going to stand there sneering at me and patting yourself on the back all night, or are you going to break into Salamandastron?"
Ferahgo's blue eyes smiled back and his tone was equally
civil. "Raptail, Bateye, take this ignorant infant to one side, will you. Now guard him carefully and don't let him get hurt. Keep him here while his father goes to do the work of a warrior. Klitch is a bit inexperienced for this sort of thing, you know."
Leaving his son fuming under the eyes of the two guards, Ferahgo drew his daggers and rapped out orders.
"Doghead, Dewnose, bring a single torch. The rest of you, get fully armed and follow us. Keep silent in the tunne! ... or else!"
The flaring light of a brushwood torch threw elongated shadows across the horde members packing up the tunnel behind Ferahgo and his two Captains. Dewnose patted the large slab when they reached the head of the tunnel.
"There's only this big 'un and a bit more behind it, Master, then we should be inside the mountain."
The Assassin sheathed his dagger and grabbed the spear from Dewnose. "Come out of my way, I'll show you how it's done."
The muscles stood out like whipcords on Ferahgo's lean body as he pitted his strength against the slab. It moved and slid. Angling it across the uneven floor, he struck it hard with the spearbutt, cracking it in two halves. "Pass that along and shift it out the way. Move yourselves!"
The Assassin went to work on the remaining rocks with
? ferocious strength, ripping them out with his bare paws, goug-
; iag with dagger and spearpoint. Hastily the rocks were passed
back along the lines of hordebeasts jamming the length of the
tunnel.
Throwing back a last few small boulders and kicking aside debris, Ferahgo halted abruptly. Licking the edge of his favorite skinning knife, he whispered to Doghead, "We're through! Feel that draft of cold airthat's our first breath of Salamandastron. Keep that torch aside a moment, there's sotttebeast standing with their back to the entrance. Now listen carefully. Whoever it is I'll stab him and drag him through
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for you and Dewnose to finish him off, then we're in. Keep silent now and I'll get him."
With the dagger between his teeth, Ferahgo inched quietly forward, his murderous blue eyes shining with joy as he sighted the unprotected back of the creature at the opening. When it came to silent death Ferahgo the Assassin was the acknowledged master. Throwing a paw round the creature's throat from behind, he locked off the windpipe and slid the blade expertly between its ribs. Pulling back in one swift movement, he threw the body to his Captains.
"Finish him off quickly, then follow me!"
Doghead pushed forward, spear in one paw, flaming torch in the other. He turned the creature over to stab itand screamed. Ferahgo turned, he took one look,, gave a strangled sob of horror and shot through the packed ranks for the open beach, kicking and slashing as he went. The body of Parian the Poisoner lay on the tunnel floor, the face a twisted mask of fright, the mouth wedged open wide by the adderskin belt with its poison bags that Urthstripe had forced down the Poisoner's throat. Thus had the badger Lord dealt with the murderer of his two hares.
The poisoned drinking water was standing by the entrance Ferahgo had made, lined up in cauldrons, boiling hot. As they were wheeled by, Urthstripe tipped each one with his spear-butt, sending scalding water rushing into the tunnel as he roared at the top of his voice:
"Eulaliaaaaaa!"
The hordebeasts packed inside the tunnel fought each other madly in a vain bid to escape the contents of the cauldrons. Spears, swords, pikes and other weaponry hindered them in the darkness as the blistering hot stream gushed out, welling up into a steaming wave. Screams were drowned amid the boiling torrent. Smashed against the rocky walls, the bodies hurtled the length of the narrow aperture to be spewed out on to the beach.
Moonpaw, Starbob, Catkin, Thistle and Seawood climbed back into Salamandastron's east side, throwing the sacks of dandelions, apples, berries and roots ahead of them. Sapwood helped each one in as they clambered through an unblocked window hole. Seawood and Thistle came last, cautioning the Sergeant, "Careful with those two sacks. There's six canteens of fresh water there, Sap."
Sapwood chuckled, patting their backs. "Bless yer ears, mates. Where'd you come by all this lot?"
Thistle nudged him in the ribs and gave a broad wink. "Fancy askin' a Long Patrol Hare a question like that, Sergeant. Did you never have to survive off the land on a long scout?''
Sapwood began blocking the window hole up.
" 'Course I did. Silly ol' me. Hey, Seawood, the diversion worked a treat. You should've seen Urthstripe. 'Is Nibs was like a liddle bunny on 'oliday, roarin' an' ashoutin'. By the fur, the Boss gave those vermints an 'ot old time an' no mistake."
One backpaw, a leg and a large area of Ferahgo's back were painful areas of blistered flesh. He lay stretched on a rock in the dawn light, biting on his knife handle to stop himself crying out. Sickear dabbed seawater gently on the injured weasel, backing off a few paces every time the Assassin winced.
"Water from the sea is all we've got, Master. It smarts, but it cures. We used it for all injuries when I was searattin'."
Klitch was enjoying the whole thing hugely. He leaned down close to his father's face as he mocked him. "Ah then, did the naughty badger roast your bottom, O ruler of all the Southwest and Leader of the Corpsemakers. Never mind then, you leave it to young wet-behind-the-ears Klitch. I'll take charge for a while."
Ferahgo arched his back in agony as the seawater trickled onto it. Sweat beaded on his lips and nose as he gritted around the dagger blade at his grunting son, "Oh yes? And what's
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