Fire Rock

  "But we're guarding the pathway to the vent," the badger protested, wrinkling his snout at the unpleasant image Brokin had raised in his mind.

  "I don't care, and nor will Cherva if you don't do as you're told. The badgers from Badachro can't possibly know about the vent back here, so there's no point in you staying here to guard it, when you're needed to help fight at the front, is there? Quickly, you're to go at once. You go on ahead and I'll let the other guards know what's happening."

  The badger glanced back over his shoulder to where his companion was still standing half hidden in the undergrowth, but then he looked back and nodded warily.

  "Yes, I suppose that makes sense," he agreed reluctantly, not savouring the prospect of having to join the fighting at the front of the sett, when he would far rather remain at his present comfortable post.

  "Well then?" Brokin urged. "Go on, hurry up or Cherva will be down here himself. Quickly. Quickly now!"

  The guard walked over to his comrade and after much pointing and gesturing at Brokin, the pair finally rushed off.

  Heaving a sigh of relief that his act had worked so well, he hurried back to his fighters, and the group moved off, with him leading the way through the trees and out across the same embankment on which he'd attacked Cherva during the last summer-cycle.

  It already seemed like a lifetime ago!

  A short time later the small band was forced to a halt again as Brokin contemplated the lone guard stationed just off the pathway. He shook his head in frustration, because unlike the first two, this guard appeared very alert.

  Standing behind a large rock, the guard's position gave him an unrestricted view of any approaching badger, and it was only because Brokin had decided to cut across the embankment, that they had not been spotted yet.

  The guard stood stock still, his attention focused on the noise of the fighting carrying to him on the gentle breeze. Brokin didn't think that this guard would be so easily fooled.

  There was no choice but to kill him.

  Chapter 25

  Darkburst travelled for many moons and the journey became a dull, boring routine. Wake from a restless sleep beneath a bush or an overhanging fern, get up and search for food, check which direction to take from the stars, then walk, walk, walk. Moon after moon after moon, with no variation.

  But the young badger had also found a soothing comfort in these numbing patterns of behaviour. While his body carried out the action of walking, his mind, free to roam at will, relived his time with Brightness.

  It was Darkburst's misfortune that this same monotony also proved to be his undoing. If he'd been more focused on where he was going, instead of who he'd left behind, he might have spotted the tell-tale sparkle of moonlight reflecting from the half-hidden object on the pathway ahead.

  The first indication Darkburst had that something might be wrong, was the sharp spasm of pain that unexpectedly shot through his leg. Crying out in surprise he fell forward, his leg caught tightly in what he thought must be some creature's jaws.

  Blinking back tears of pain he gasped aloud as its grip tightened. Growling low in his throat, he curled his lips over his teeth in a threatening posture and swung his head around to confront his attacker.

  But to Darkburst's utter astonishment, he was alone!

  Quickly rolling onto his side, he bent double, so that he could see what his leg had become trapped in, and discovered it was a strong, pliable plant stem, which had wrapped itself around his leg just above the hock. The end of this strange looking stem was attached to a stout root buried in the ground, and no matter how hard the young badger pulled at it, he couldn't free himself, only succeeding in drawing the plant stem tighter about his leg until it began to disappear into his flesh.

  Darkburst tried biting through the stem, but its slippery surface was too hard for his teeth to penetrate. It was unlike any plant he'd come across before– starlight in colour and cold to the touch. In desperation the young badger sat back on his haunches and began tugging at it with strong lunges.

  As the stem cut deeper and deeper into his tender skin, blood began oozing from the wound. Darkburst was finally forced to stop struggling when the thin stem sliced right into the muscle of his leg.

  Licking at the bloody injury, he considered his position with care, staring intently at the plant stem that held him.

  How could he free himself? He had already tried pulling the root from the ground with no success.

  He would have to dig it out, but the slightest movement now caused him so much pain that he doubted he would be able to dig.

  He could only think of one option.

  Finally, after a long wait, during which he gathered his courage, Darkburst closed his eyes against the expected pain, and threw his full weight backwards, at the same time twisting his body from side to side, trying to rest the root from the ground.

  As stars of unbelievable agony exploded within his head, the young boar groaned and fainted.

  *

  Slowly regaining consciousness, Darkburst kept his eyes closed for a moment, trying to mentally ease the pain that was coursing through his body. When he failed to accomplish that, he groaned softly, cracked open his eyes and slowly looked about, for a moment, wishing that he hadn't.

  Any movement increased his suffering almost beyond endurance, blurring his vision and bringing bile rising from his stomach.

  Taking a deep breath, Darkburst raised his head again to look at his leg, causing a cloud of flies to rise from the wound. They buzzed about his head in angry circles before settling back onto the brown incrustations once again.

  Examining the deep cut, the young badger's lip curled in disgust as he saw that it was full of small white wriggling objects. The flies had obviously been very busy while he'd been unconscious.

  Unable to stop the tears of rage, pain and fright from rising up in his eyes, Darkburst lowered his head to the ground and groaned, finally admitting that there was nothing he could do to release himself.

  Settling down onto his side, the young boar took deep steady breaths, allowing his mind to return to the ash tree and his time with Brightness. It eased the pain somewhat, and a small smile formed on his lips.

  Finally closing his eyes one last time, the young boar sighed heavily for what might have been, and prepared for death.

  *

  The sun was beginning to set once more and Darkburst sighed gratefully. It had blasted down on him relentlessly, adding to his pain and discomfort. In the cool fading light of a new moon, he looked about in desperation, searching for some small hope, even though he knew there was none.

  Scattered along the pathway ahead were a number of loops similar to the one that still held him in its tight grip. Darkburst could see how other creatures had suffered the same fate as himself. Two rabbits, one caught by the neck, lay side by side further along the path, obviously long dead. Further away, what looked to be the remains of a chewed off forepaw still dangled from another bloody loop, giving mute testimony to a fox's gruesome struggles.

  The frightened young badger shuddered. Would he be able to show the same sort of courage when the time came for him to act?

  Pushing the unpleasant image from his mind, Darkburst shook his head. It would not come to that. Twice before when his life had been threatened, he had been saved. The Prime Mover was protecting him and She would save him again, he was sure of it.

  But as the sky slowly darkened on yet another sun, the young badger's conviction began to waver.

  Darkburst's trapped foot, and most of his leg, was now so swollen that the skin had begun to split. Thankfully it had stopped hurting some time ago, but as the moon slid its slow way across the sky, it finally dawned on Darkburst that he might well die in this lonely place.

  Belatedly wishing that he had stayed with Brightness in the safety of her sett instead of chasing his wild dreams, the young badger felt himself plummet into the depths of a deep despondency. His thoughts turned to his mother and he wondered if he would e
ver see her again. Stretching out his neck he laid his head on the ground, closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind of the unpleasant thoughts that kept arising.

  Just before dawn, a noise in the undergrowth brought Darkburst out of his stupor. With a great effort he raised his head and listened intently, trying to detect what it was that had disturbed him.

  He could just make out a faint rustling noise in the nearby bushes, and as it steadily grew louder, his heart began to beat faster. He squinted into the darkness but could discern nothing in the heavy shadows. Then a new musky odour wafted towards him on the damp air and his eyes widened, the stubby whiskers on his snout standing erect in recognition.

  Rats! A pack of rats was moving through the long grass towards him. Help was here at last, the Prime Mover had sent the rats to help him.

  As the first rat loomed out of the thick undergrowth, Darkburst managed to struggle to his feet. The animal was large, its yellow eyes staring at him intently. It stopped a short distance away, testing the air with quivering whiskers, its long tail curled forward, the tip slightly raised.

  Other rats silently appeared, crowding in behind the first. In its excitement a latecomer rushed past the others and the lead rat snapped at it viciously, sending it squealing back into the pack, where it sat licking its wound.

  The larger rat moved nearer– tentatively, almost reluctantly, continually scenting the air. Darkburst kept perfectly still, waiting to see what the rat would do, how it would go about releasing him. The rodent continued to move closer, its head darting this way and that, constantly alert for danger. It did not approach Darkburst directly but stayed off to one side, its head turning with tiny jerks as it kept its eyes firmly fixed on him.

  When it was perhaps two body lengths away the rat stopped, staring at Darkburst with unblinking eyes, as though waiting for him to do something. Darkburst relaxed a little, settling back on his haunches to relieve the pressure on his leg.

  At his movement, the rat flattened itself along the ground, the tips of its ears quivering as it studied him warily. The rat stayed perfectly still for a moment, then stealthily curled the claws of its forefeet into the earth. Darkburst could see the tension building in the rat's body, but even so, was taken completely by surprise when the rodent unexpectedly launched itself at him.

  Along with the unprovoked attack came the sudden realisation that the rats were not here to rescue him at all. They must have been out foraging for food and he was now their intended meal!

  As the rat sank its teeth into his snout its companions quickly flanked him on either side, looking for an opening. Shaking his head violently, Darkburst managed to flip the rat away, roaring in pain as it ripped out a large chunk of his skin in the process.

  The rodent was back on its feet in an instant and charged him again. Darkburst tried to buffet it away, but the rat managed to twist its body in mid-air and landed on Darkburst's back, its feet scrabbling in the soft fur.

  Seeing this the other rats crowded closer, waiting their chance.

  Before the rat on Darkburst's back had managed to get a good purchase, he reared up on his hind legs, trying to dislodge it, but his injured leg gave way and he crashed onto his side, landing on the rat with a thump that blasted the air from his lungs. The rat squealed, scurrying away a short distance before turning back to face him again.

  Lips pulled back across its teeth, the rat watched him as though not sure what to do next.

  An excruciating pain stabbed through Darkburst's injured leg and his vision blurred. He shook his head in desperation, knowing that if he fainted now, he was dead. Groaning loudly he rolled onto his belly, panting deeply. The movement caused an immediate attack from the pack and he was quickly overwhelmed by a vicious flurry of bodies.

  Pulling against the plant stem, Darkburst desperately tried to free his leg, gritting his teeth against the pain, twisting and turning this way and that, rolling over and over in his attempt to free himself.

  The stem cut ever deeper into his muscles and he screamed his rage as all the time the rats kept up their attack, dashing in to nip him with their sharp teeth whenever the chance arose.

  Then against all his expectations, Darkburst was suddenly free.

  Turning on his attackers, the exhausted badger lashed out at the lead rat with a slashing blow. The rodent squealed loudly as the skin and muscle along its spine parted, exposing the blood stained ribs beneath.

  The stricken rat swayed back and forth on shaky legs, fear flaring for the first time in its yellow eyes.

  The rat realised it had been mortally wounded and quietly mewled to itself as it slowly collapsed onto the ground.

  The rest of the pack stopped their attack on Darkburst, lifting their sharp noses to the air the better to scent their leader's demise.

  Taking full advantage of the hiatus, Darkburst tucked his injured leg up into his side and ran from the pack as fast as he could. Pushing his way through the tangled undergrowth, he could still hear the sounds of excited, high-pitched squeals behind him.

  The rats were busy fighting each other over the body of their dead leader, but Darkburst knew that it wouldn't be long before they finished their gory meal and set out after him.

  Chapter 26

  After killing the lone sentry guarding the pathway, Brokin returned to his group of fighters and together they moved up the stony track leading to the air vent at the rear of the sett. When they reached the edge of a small clearing, he called a halt and told his companions to hide in the undergrowth and wait for him.

  Setting off on his own, Brokin moved around the edge of the clearing until he had a good view of the air vent. His hopes of a quick entry were dashed when he saw that it was well defended by three guards.

  One guard lounged inside the small tunnel, another was off to one side gathering worms, and a third lay on a rock ledge next to the keystone that kept the rock pile from collapsing over the air vent entrance.

  Brokin muttered angrily to himself as he studied the situation. It was obvious it would be impossible to reach the tunnel without being spotted by at least one of the guards.

  Withdrawing a short distance, he set his mind to the problem. There had to be a way of getting into the tunnel before the guard at the rock pile spotted them and released the keystone, he told himself.

  A plan slowly began to form in his mind; not much of a plan he admitted to himself, but a plan that might well get him into the air vent. It was the best he could come up with in such a short time and would have to suffice.

  Stealthily making his way back to the track where he'd left his companions, Brokin called them close and whispered his instructions. The badgers nodded their understanding as he explained what it was he wanted them to do.

  The signal to begin their attack would be the call of an injured weasel, he told them.

  If all went well, the sentry at the keystone would be distracted long enough to allow him to enter the tunnel. If not, well they would have done their best and no badger could do more than that.

  Brokin mentally ran over his plan one last time. Had he thought of everything, covered every aspect?

  Taking a deep breath, he tried to stem the trembling in his limbs. Once inside the tunnel there would be no turning back, no changing his mind. Even if the boar guarding the keystone did not trip it when they made their attack, he had ordered one of his own fighters to do so. It was the only way that he could be certain no badger would follow him inside and take him by surprise.

  Brokin led the way back around the edge of the clearing and the group stopped when they were as near to the vent as they could get without being seen by the guards. Then keeping low, they cautiously crawled their way beneath a narrow rock overhang that afforded some cover.

  As two of his party gathered some ferns, Brokin chanced a quick look. The guard at the vent had joined the one searching for worms and together were now digging in the loose soil at the base of a nearby tree. Brokin licked his lips nervously, readying himself for h
is next move.

  He made a slight gesture and the two badgers at his side arranged the ferns they had gathered over his back, tying them in place with long twists of grass. Then moving around the rock, and making good use of the cover afforded by the long grass, Brokin slowly crawled nearer to the air vent.

  If the badger guarding the rock pile above him would just keep his attention focused on the two boars gathering worms for a while longer, Brokin knew that he would reach his objective with no problem.

  Cautiously, he continued to creep forward, stopping often to take stock of his surroundings. Brokin's heart was hammering in his chest so hard that he was finding it difficult to breathe: surely the guard at the vent would hear it!

  Brokin jumped uncontrollably, almost giving himself away, when one of the guards suddenly laughed loudly. Feeling as though he was about to throw up, he closed his eyes, then after taking a few deep breaths, managed to control his moment of panic before setting out again.

  Finally Brokin reached the point where the long grass ended. From here he would have to make a dash for the air vent and hope he reached it before the rocks came crashing down on top of him.

  Raising his head, he got ready to give the signal, but only managed a hoarse croak. His mouth was so dry that his tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth. The boar guarding the keystone sensed something and turned his head, studying the undergrowth where Brokin lay hidden for a long moment.

  Had the guard spotted him? Well it was too late to worry about that now. Wetting his lips, Brokin tried again and this time the shrill, high-pitched shriek of an injured weasel rang out across the clearing.

  On the signal, Brokin's fighters attacked the guards by the tree, yelling at the top of their voices to distract the badger posted at the rock pile. Breaking his cover, Brokin ran headlong towards the air vent, his heart racing faster than his feet.

  Everything was going as planned. The sentry on the ledge had not spotted him yet. He was almost there, just a few more paces. Brokin's heart beat even faster. He was going to make it.

  What Brokin did not know was that another badger lounged inside the tunnel, catching up on lost sleep. On hearing the shouting and yelling outside he shook himself awake, lumbered to his feet and wandered out to see what was going on.