Touching the arrowhead to the fire, she waited a moment until it was blazing well. Then, fitting the shaft to her bowstring, Jukka turned south and fired off over the mountaintop.
Waiting on the tideline, not too far south of Salamandastron, Brog and Ruff stood at the head of their small army. The sea otter Skipper was first to see the signal arrow, arcing through the night sky, like a tiny comet. He pounded Ruff’s back.
‘There she goes, mate, right on time!’
Ruff’s answer was to throw back his head and howl.
‘Eulaliiiiaaaaa!’
They thundered along the shoreline, paws pounding the damp sand, weapons waving, a wild fearless band, giving out the challenge to anybeast daring to oppose them.
‘Blood’n’vinegaaaaar! Eulaliiiiiaaaaa!’
It was only a short distance. Inside the mountain, a weasel Hordebeast heard the war cries. Moving aside a slat of driftwood from a ground level window space he peered out and was immediately cut down by a slingstone. The rat Captain Drull leapt aside as a javelin clattered through. Grabbing the driftwood he closed the space, shoring it up with the slain weasel and shouting, ‘Stand to! We’re under attack! Get to the arrow slits!’
A bewildered stoat confronted Drull. ‘But cap’n, we blocked up the arrer slits, you tole us to.’
Drull booted him to one side and drew his sword. ‘No I never. Get t’the main gate an’ stand fast, that’s where they’ll try t’break through. Shift yerself!’
Jukka climbed back inside the mountain and began making her way down to the cellars. She was still on the highest level, racing along a passageway, when she ran slapbang into Ungatt Trunn. They fell headlong, both tripped by the wildcat’s trident haft, down a short flight of stairs. Jukka landed on top, extricating herself from Trunn’s cloak folds and mumbling hasty apologies. Momentarily forgetting herself, Jukka fell into her natural speech.
‘I beg thy pardon, sire. Art thou injured, pray?’
Ungatt Trunn scrambled to get upright, locking eyes with her. ‘You’re no Hordebeast, I can tell. Come here!’
Jukka did the only thing she could do in the circumstances. She leapt over the wildcat and ran for it. Trunn was speedily up and after her, calling for assistance.
‘Guards, stop that creature, she’s a spy, stop her!’
Jukka took a sharp left along a corridor which branched off two ways, and jammed herself into a darkened niche as Captain Drull and a mob of guards raced by.
Drull came to a forced halt as he turned the corner and the wildcat grabbed him.
‘Where’s the spy? Did you see which way that spy went?’
Ignoring the question, Drull babbled into Trunn’s face. ‘Attack, sire, we’re bein’ attacked! They’re all over the shore outside! They’re attackin’ us!’
Ungatt Trunn shook the unfortunate rat mercilessly. ‘I’ll go and see to the attack. You take these with you and find that spy, there must be others inside my mountain. Don’t stand there dithering. Catch the spy!’
Jukka saw the wildcat race down the opposite arm of the corridor, and waited until he was out of sight before she emerged. Drull came skidding round the corner at the head of a large mob of vermin, almost face to face with her.
‘That’s the spy! Hey you, halt! Stop, I say!’
But Jukka was not about to stop or halt. She went off down the passage with the vermin pack hard on her heels.
34
DOTTI BLINKED. LIGHTS shimmered in her vision each time she closed her eyes, and she stumbled against Southpaw. He gallantly held her upright. ‘Steady on, miss Dotti. Here, take m’paw!’
The haremaid was glad of his assistance. ‘Whew, we’ve been blunderin’ round in the gloom down here for absoballylutely ages. Those lights are makin’ my eyes go all funny. D’you suppose we’re lost?’
‘Good grief, I jolly well hope not, eh, Bob?’
‘What, lost? I dunno, but it looks like we could be, old chap. I think this is the second blinkin’ time I’ve passed this rock. It’s shaped like a salad bowl. I’ve come t’know it rather well, wot!’
Brocktree held up his torch, illuminating the rock in question. ‘Is he right, Stiffener? Are we lost?’
The boxing hare’s ears drooped in shame. ‘I ’ates to say it, lord, but I’m afeared we are.’
A groan rose from those who had been following him.
‘Lost? D’ye mean we’ve been traipsin’ round here for hours’n’hours only to get lost?’
‘Hmm, bit of a blinkin’ frost if y’ask me, old lad!’
‘Yurr, zurr Stiff dunn a gudd job, oi reckem. Us’n’s nearly thurr, hurr aye!’
The Badger Lord sounded hopeful. ‘What makes you think so, Gurth?’
The good mole wet his digging claws by licking them, and held them up as high as he could. ‘’Coz oi be’s feelen ee fresh hurr frumm above, zurr. ’Tis ee thing uz moles do be a-knowen abowt!’
Bucko, who hated the dark, congratulated Gurth. ‘Och, guid for ye, mah braw laddie. Lead on!’
Fleetscut chortled aloud. ‘Well twoggle m’paws, the old salad bowl, I remember that when I used to pinch puddens an’ come down here to eat ’em, when I was only a young ’un!’
Sailears chuckled drily. ‘An’ that must’ve been only last season. I recall cook Blench complainin’ about a lot of missin’ vittles, you lanky-shanked pudden-purloiner!’
But Fleetscut was not listening. He was away, helter skelter down the rock tunnels, his cries echoing into the distance. ‘Haha, salad bowl, o’ course! Can’t fool old Fleetie. I know me flippin’ way out, course I jolly well do!’
Dotti started to run after him, but Gurth stopped her. ‘Ee woan’t catch zurr Fleet, missie. You’m foller Gurth, oi’ll get us’n’s safe out, trust oi!’
Brocktree smiled at the stolid reliable mole. ‘Friend Gurth, I’d sooner trust you than a cartload of Fleetscuts. We’ll follow faithfully wherever you lead!’
Fleetscut halted for an instant to regain his breath, not too sure if he was on the right path. ‘I say, you lot . . . where’ve they gone? Oh, never mind. Now, was it this way, or that? Oh corks, I’m starvin’. Hope those bluebottoms have left a morsel in the larder for supper. Or maybe tea. Huh, it could be blinkin’ brekky time for all a chap’d know down this confounded hole. Hello, is that them comin’ from the other way? I must’ve been travellin’ in circles, wot?’
The sounds Fleetscut was hearing drew nearer, but they did not resemble any noises his friends would make.
‘Come on, we’ve nearly got the spy!’
‘Catch the spy! Stop that spy!’
It was one long passage, with no exits left or right. Fleetscut looked rather nonplussed as Jukka came panting up out of the gloom, and held up his torch. ‘Oh, it’s only you. Stolen any good weapons lately, wot?’
Jukka collapsed beside him, words pouring out of her. ‘Right behind me – a load of vermin coming fast! Where are thy friends? Are they not with thee?’
‘No, they’re back there a ways. Should imagine they’ll be along in a while . . .’ He caught sight of the yelling mob of vermin racing up the tunnel. ‘Great seasons, there’ll be murder if they clash with our lot. We weren’t expectin’ anythin’ like this.’
Jukka grabbed him savagely. ‘No time for explanations now, longears. Hast thou weapons? We must hold them here, thee an’ me!’
The enormity of it dawned upon Fleetscut. He snapped his javelin in half and brandished the torch. ‘We’ll have t’stop ’em. Here, take this. Eulaliiiiaaaa!’
Holding a half of the double-pointed javelin apiece, they charged forward. Both creatures threw themselves at the vermin mob in the narrowest part of the tunnel. The move took the Hordebeasts completely by surprise. Battering away with the lighted torch and thrusting with his piece of javelin, Fleetscut battled side by side with Jukka. They gave no quarter and stood their ground, fighting like a pair of madbeasts, yelling when their javelins found marks and gasping with pain when vermin blades found theirs.
/>
Further down the tunnel, Sailears held up a paw for silence. ‘What was that, sah? Did y’hear it?’
Brocktree was already rushing by her, his blade drawn.
‘Battle ahead! Eulaliiiiaaaaa!’
They thundered along the tunnel and hit the vermin like a tidal wave. The awesome Brocktree went straight through the Hordebeasts, his sword scything a harvest of death. Dotti had hardly a chance to whirl her sling. Bucko shoved her to one side as he went in like a battering ram.
‘Oot mah way, lassie. Yerrrahaaah! Ah’m the mad March hare frae the mountains! Tak yer last look at me, ye vermin!’
Skulls cracked against rock as Stiffener Medick and his two grandsons went in weaponless, punching and kicking. Dotti staggered upright, ducking again as a rat went sailing over her head. Gurth placed her politely out of his way.
‘Stan’ ee asoide, miz, lest ee get you’m dress mussed!’
Sailears hugged Dotti to her. ‘Don’t look. We should never have brought a maid to this place. Turn your face away, Dotti, ’twill soon be done.’
It was done in a frighteningly short time. No vermin was allowed to escape and raise the alarm. Treading carefully, Sailears led Dotti forward, clear of the carnage. On the other side of the battleground, Bucko was waiting for them. He stood up from the two forms he had been crouching over, Jukka and Fleetscut. The mountain hare wedged a torch into the rocks above them. As she knelt by their side, Dotti could see that Jukka was already dead. Fleetscut had tight hold of the squirrel’s paw. His eyes flickered briefly. He was whispering something, and Dotti had to put her face close to his before she realised that the old hare was talking to Jukka.
‘Held the tunnel . . . they never passed . . . lots o’ weapons for you, my friend . . . odd though . . . don’t feel a bit hungry. Jolly cold, wot!’
Fleetscut smiled at Dotti, his eyelids flickered one last time, and then they closed for ever. The haremaid looked at Sailears through a shimmering haze of tears.
‘They died as friends. Who’d have thought it?’
The older hare helped her upright. ‘Jukka an’ Fleetscut were the bravest of the brave. Come now, young ’un, let them share the long sleep together.’
Ungatt Trunn felt the cold paw of fear traversing his spine. With no more than a hundred vermin at his command he stood facing the barred main entrance. Rocks and boulders thudded noisily against the fortified oaken doors. Without his vast Hordes the wildcat was virtually a captive inside the mountain he had captured. There were roars of derision from outside.
‘We’re comin’ to get ye, Trunn!’
‘Is that the earth shakin’, or is it yore paws tremblin’?’
‘Bring up the batterin’ ram. I’m tired o’ knockin’ on this door, mates. Let’s knock it down!’
There was no aperture uncovered for the vermin to see what was going on, or to retaliate from. Hordebeasts stood grouped in the entrance hall, staring in horrified fascination at the reverberating doors. Stoat Captain Byle looked beseechingly to Ungatt Trunn.
‘They’re bringin’ a batterin’ ram – did you ’ear ’em, sire? Where’s Drull an’ the others got to? We’ll be slain!’
A blow from the wildcat’s trident shaft knocked Byle flat. Trunn aimed a kick at the cringing captain. ‘Get up, you whimpering worm, find Captain Drull and his sentries, bring them here immediately!’
Byle scurried off to do his master’s bidding.
Brog looked quizzically at Ruff as they both flung rocks at the doors.
‘We never brought no batterin’ ram with us, mate?’
Ruff hurled a lump of limestone. It made a satisfying thud. ‘Haharr, but Trunn don’t know that, do ’e? We’ll need those doors in one piece once we’re inside. Remember, Brog, our job’s to provide a diversion. Make as much ’ullabaloo as possible ’til Brock an’ our pals can find their way to the doors an’ ambush Trunn from the rear, inside. Look out!’
Ruff pulled Brog to one side as a gang of rabblehogs loosed their slings. Pebbles rattled against oak like a spring hailstorm. Baron Drucco yelled encouragement.
‘Now give ’em a few yells, my ’ogs, tell those vermints wot we’re goin’ t’do to ’em!’
‘Yaaah, yer bluebottomed wifflers, we’ll spike yer!’
‘Yew can’t get away from the rabble’ogs. We’ve thrown an accordion round yore mountain, so there!’
Brog and Ruff joined in with gusto.
‘Chop yore ’eads off an’ chuck ’em in yore faces we will!’
‘Set lights to yore tails an’ use ’em for candles, too!’
‘Aye, we’ll make the stars fall on ye all right, the moon too!’
On the other side of the door, Ungatt Trunn paced nervously about, waiting for Byle to return with the reinforcements he had sent him to get. ‘Stand your ground,’ the wildcat rapped sternly at his quivering vermin, ’the doors will hold! This trident will take the eyes out of anybeast who moves without my permission!’
Trunn spied Byle. The stoat captain was dithering around at the hall entrance, as if unsure of which way to go next. Dashing down the hall, the wildcat cornered him.
‘Where’s Drull and the guard patrols? I ordered you to bring them to me! Well, where are they?’
Forgetting all titles and protocols, Byle blurted out, ‘’Ow should I know? There’s a badger wid a sword twice the size o’ me, there’s an army wid ’im, an’ they’re comin’ this way fast!’
Trunn’s trident prongs prodded the stoat’s neck. ‘Keep your voice down. You and I are leaving here.’ He shouted to the Hordebeasts guarding the doors, ‘Hold your positions, stay there! Captain Byle has found Captain Drull and the guard patrols. We’re going to fetch them. I order you to hold the doors. We’ll be back soon!’
‘But sire,’ Byle protested, ‘we don’t know wh—’
He froze into silence as the trident pricked his throat. ‘One more word and I’ll leave you behind with them. Now follow me up to the second level!’
Brogalaw waved his paws furiously. ‘Whoa, mates, stop yore rock-throwin’ an’ shoutin, and lissen!’
The decoy attackers left off their activities. They did not have to strain their ears to know what was going on on the other side of Salamandastron’s main doors. Screams, roars, yells and the thunder of Eulalias told them that the plan had worked. Lord Brocktree and his force had made it, up from the cellars to the entrance. Slaughter was raging unchecked against the vermin that Ungatt Trunn had deserted.
Ruff flung away a rock and grabbed his spear. ‘To the gates, me ’earties, to the gates!’
Durvy and his crew raced up from the shore, their coats dripping with seawater. Konul shook herself vigorously. ‘Ain’t you lot got inside yet, Brog?’
Chuckling, the sea otter Skipper dodged a spray of water. ‘Ho, don’t fret yoreself, missie, we soon will be!’
The ottermaid pointed seaward. ‘Then ye’d best make it quick, mate. Karangool an’ his crews cut out the burnin’ ships an’ sunk ’em. But they caught sight of us an’ they’re ’ard on our rudders. See!’
Ten galleys were being rowed to land, crammed with horde crew vermin, led by Karangool. Brog issued hasty orders.
‘Drucco, bang on them doors as if yore life depended on it, ’cos it does! Form up in four lines, mates, backs t’the doors, slings, arrers an’ javelins. Stir yore stumps!’
Sounds of battle, loud and wild, rang out from behind the doors. The ships ploughed into the shallows and armed vermin began leaping ashore in droves. Drucco battered the door, a rock in either paw, bellowing with all his might, ‘Brock! Brock! Open up, mate! We’re ’ard pressed out ’ere!’
Karangool stood on the prow of his vessel, urging the vermin on towards the mountain. ‘Slay streamdogs, they fired our ships, kill allbeasts!’
Ungatt Trunn tore driftwood and sacking from a narrow window facing east on the second level. He peeped out and saw a small band of squirrels below. The wildcat nodded, smiling at Captain Byle.
‘We’
re lucky, my friend, it’s all clear. Out you go!’
Two arrows took the stoat before he cleared the window. Trunn spoke up in a voice loud enough to be heard from below.
‘’Tis no use, mates, the foebeast’s waitin’ below. Round to the south side, quick. I know a good place there!’
He stood perfectly still and waited a short time. When he looked out again the squirrels had run off to cover the south face. With all the litheness of a wildcat Ungatt Trunn descended to the ground. Treading contemptuously on Byle’s carcass he set off north towards the cliffs.
Once the vermin were above the tideline, Brog gave the first rank of archers their order. ‘Now!’ Eight vermin fell, transfixed by flying arrows. The rest paused, but Karangool drove them onward from his ship’s prow.
‘Rush them, they be only few to us!’
They continued the charge. The archers dropped back to reload as Brog gave a command to the slingers who took their place.
‘Shoot an’ fall back, mates. Now!’
Drucco foamed at the mouth as he pounded the doors. ‘Open up afore we’re slaughterfied! Open up, Brock!’
Ruff took out a front runner with a well-aimed rock. ‘Too late, mate, we’ll just ’ave t’go down fightin’!’
Brog judged the distance between himself and the charging vermin. It looked as if Ruff was right. The sea otter Skipper brought forward his spears and javelins.
‘Kneel ’ere in line, mateys, points to the fore! Archers, place yoreselves between the spears. Right, now!’
Another deadly hail of shafts buzzed through the night air. Vermin fell, but they kept coming, their own front ranks unshouldering bows and fitting shafts to strings.
With a creak and a groan the mighty doors swung inwards. Baron Drucco fell face down, still pounding with his two rocks at the earth in the open gateway. Gurth and Bucko Bigbones poked their heads round the doors.