All through that dreadful winter, heavy gray-green seas pounded the rime-crusted shores, and immense rolling waves hurled themselves high above the tideline. Sometimes the breakers nearly touched the mountain itself, but the extinct volcano stood solid, proof against all weathers since the dawn of time. Inside Salamandastron, for the main part, it was dry and warm, particularly the inner chambers of the honeycombed rock. Hares of the redoubtable Long Patrol had made it so; it was not just a fortress, but a home in which they could rear their families in comfort.

A young and very shrewd female hare named Sundew was Sunflash’s constant guide and companion throughout the winter. She saw that all the badger’s needs were catered to with the minimum of bother. His personal living quarters were quite high up in the levels of mountain chambers. They were big and comfortable in a rough way, as befitted a Badger Lord.

Sunflash had awakened with a start on his first morning, then, realizing where he was, he rolled in a leisurely way from the cushion-strewn rock ledge that served as a bed. Throwing wide the wooden shutters of a long rectangular stone windowframe, he gazed out at the restless sea and dark, cloud-scarred sky, illuminated by that pale dusty lavender light that often heralds the oncoming of winter. Hearing the thick cedar door creak open behind him, the badger did not turn, but remained staring out to the horizon.

Sundew stood beside him, paws cupping her chin as she leaned on the sill, watching the birth of a new day. “Goin’ t’be a jolly hard old winter, m’Lord,” she said.

Sunflash glanced sideways at her. “Indeed it is, Sundew, and harder for me than most creatures, for I have a lot to learn about this place.”

“Then let us go and have breakfast. When you have eaten, I will show you around your mountain and try to answer all your questions, Sire.”

*   *   *

The dining chamber was a scene of chaos. Hares are reputedly mighty eaters, and it was as if each was trying its hardest to live up to that reputation. Long trestle tables were packed with hares, from lanky, tough old males, through to formidable-looking harewives, leverets of both sexes who fluttered their eyelids at one another while stuffing food shamelessly, and little ones with atrocious table manners who gorged and fought alternately. The food was good, but not fancy: autumn pears and russet apples, nuts and berries, hot oatmeal, soft white bread, cheeses, and herb tea, with flagons of cordial for those who wanted it.

As Sunflash entered an immediate silence fell upon the diners. He shunned the huge carved chair that was the seat of the Badger Lord, choosing to sit by a young male leveret instead. Hurriedly the servers set out food and drink before him.

Sunflash broke bread and winked at the leveret, asking, “What’s your name, young ’un?”

“Bradberry, Sire, but the chaps call me Bradders, doncha know.”

The badger looked across the table at a female leveret who was twitching her nose and fluttering her eyelids at Bradberry. “Well, I tell you, Bradders, that young haremaid yonder looks as if she’s trying to tell you something.”

A chubby young hare seated at the other side of Bradberry stopped sucking oatmeal from a bowl long enough to comment, “That old gel’s Fordpetal—she’s jolly deep in love with Bradders. Silly as brushes, the pair of ’em, Sire!”

Bradders wiggled his ears so hard with embarrassment that they almost twisted into a knot. He averted his eyes shyly, paying detailed attention to some crumbs on the table. “Yah, go stuff nuts up your nose, Porty. Soppy ole haremaids, always makin’ faces an’ wigglin’ eyes at me!”

Sunflash stifled a smile as he bit into a russett apple. “You shouldn’t be so good-looking, then! Try to seem a bit ugly and battered, like me.”

Fordpetal’s big brown eyes widened, and she leaned over toward Sunflash, smiling boldly. “Oh, Sire, how could you say that you’re ugly’n’battered? I think your golden stripe is very pretty—matter of fact, you’re a very good-looking badger, if y’pardon me sayin’, wot!”

Sunflash rose hastily from the table, taking with him a hunk of cheese and another apple.

“You’re right, Bradders,” he said. “She is pretty soppy! See you later.”

*   *   *

Sundew took Sunflash through the cellars, where he inspected the drinking stock, stopping to sample from different barrels with a small tasting ladle.

“Hmm, I like this one, very fruity and warm!”

“So it bally well should be, Sire; that’s old elderberry wine, been sittin’ there fifty seasons, they say. Very good for colds’n’chills, but two beakers of it’d blow your ears off!”

He was shown through the bachelor hare barracks, sickbay, larders, dormitories, meeting chambers, and nursery. Next came the armory, cells, and lookout caves; practically that whole day was given over to viewing all Salamandastron had to offer. Sunflash began to realize that he was Lord over what amounted to a town inside a rock.

When they were above the level of his own accommodation, Sundew stopped and said, “Only you may go here, Sire; few hares have been allowed this far.”

Turning to ask her the reason why, Sunflash found himself alone. Sundew had vanished downstairs. Walking down a broad passage, Sunflash came to a hanging curtain; he pulled it aside and discovered a great forge room. There was a forge fire at its center, with bellows, a stock of timber and seacoal, and nearby stood a mighty, horned anvil. Spears, daggers, lances and arrows, javelins, heavy slings, and clubs lined the walls. A gigantic broadsword hung from metal pins; the badger took it down, surprised at its weight but delighted by the balance of the fearsome battleblade. His grandsire Boar the Fighter may have wielded it, or his great grandsire Lord Brocktree. Sunflash put the sword aside and picked up his own weapon, the mace; it felt better suited to his paws. Several sets of finely made badger armor stood about: deep-chested breastplates, shining steel greaves, and warlike helmets, and there were shields, too, with heroic devices engraved upon them.

Passing through the forge room, Sunflash wandered upstairs, around corners, down passages, until he felt completely lost and overawed at the vastness of the mountain’s interior. Then he came to a dead end: suddenly the corridor ran out, and he was facing a bare rock wall. Sunflash inspected it and noticed in it a crack, little more than a claw’s thickness. Setting his own claws into the crack, he tugged sideways, and the rock gave a bit, grating noisily. He pulled harder, until the crack widened sufficiently for him to wedge his mace handle in. Setting his shoulder to the macehead, Sunflash gave a mighty shove, and the crack opened wide. One more hard push and the whole wall started to swing outward. The secret doorway was open.

Flint, steel, and tinder lay on the floor inside, along with several torches of dry brush. Swiftly he struck flint to steel, blowing the sparks that had landed on the tinder into life. A small flame appeared. Sunflash lit a torch and walked to the narrow hall.

Then with a roar of shock, the badger staggered back, dropping the torch. Swiftly he retrieved it, sparks showering around him like fireflies as he held it high. There at one end of the hall was a fully armored badger seated upon a throne! Immediately he knew that this was his great grandsire, Old Lord Brocktree. The hairs on Sunflash’s back stood on end as he walked forward to stand in front of his ancestor. The visor of the splendid warhelmet was closed over the Badger Lord’s eyeless sockets. Sunflash’s paw trembled as he traced it through the dust on Brocktree’s burnished breastplate. He knew that inside the armor there remained nought but a skeleton of the once great warrior, but there was no denying that their blood was one and the same. Sunflash knelt and wept then, for the heavy burden fate and seasons had placed upon his family.

The guttering torch brought him back to reality, and he looked around for something to keep the light going. There, beside a great wall covered in carvings, he found a hammer, chisels, and a lantern. Gratefully he lit the lantern from the dying torch and sat upon the floor, staring at the rows of curious pictures engraved across the wall. Sunflash breathed in the sweet-smelling smoke from the lantern; it was not an unpleasant aroma. Gradually he leaned over until he was lying flat on the cool floorstones; they felt good, restful. He put aside the smoking lantern with its dim golden light. A great desire to sleep overtook him; closing his eyes, he listened to a soft voice singing to him from afar. The corridors of his mind became one with the dim, incense-wreathed hall and its music.

Pale shades of bygone Badger Lords, hares in battle formations, searat galleys, vermin hordes, and the clangor of war mingled with pounding surf in the dreams of Sunflash the Mace. Louder and louder the pounding grew. Sunflash came awake in darkness; the lantern had gone out. Somebeast was pounding against the far wall from its other side. Dim cries reached the Badger Lord’s ears.

“Sire, are you there? Answer if you can hear us!”

Sunflash stood upright, bellowing aloud, “I’m in here, wait!”

Groping his way to the wall, he felt around until he encountered a deep crack. Sunflash pulled both ways, gouging huge blunt claws into the stone rift, and the entire wall moved fractionally. Howling his war cry, the badger pitted his strength in one colossal effort against the groaning rock.

“Eeulaliaaaaa!”

The wallrift opened three full pawlengths. Shaking dust from his eyes, Sunflash kicked his mace into the gap, wedging it open. Sundew and several other hares were on the other side in the forge room. They shouted out in relief.

“Oh, thank the fur ’n’ fates you’re all right, Sire!”

“Whew! When you go missin’, you make a proper job of it, wot?”

“What’s that sweet smell? Whew, what’ve y’been cookin’ in there, m’Lord?”

“Must’ve eaten somethin’ t’keep him goin’ three days, wot!”

Sunflash could scarcely believe his ears. “Three days? You mean I’ve been in here three full days?”

Sundew’s paw came through the opening, and she patted Sunflash’s face, as if to reassure herself that it really was him. “Rather! An’ three nights, doncha know, this is the morn of the fourth blinkin’ day, Sire. I’d have never forgiven myself if we hadn’t found you, worried out of m’mind I was!”

Sunflash interrupted her recriminations. “Is there a lantern or a torch in there? Pass me a light through. Hurry!”

There was a few moments’ scratching about, then a flaring, resin-soaked torch with a metal sconce ring on it was thrust through the opening. Sunflash took it, saying, “Stay where you are, I won’t be long. There’s something I must see.”

*   *   *

The carved wall was covered with pictures of badgers and battles, searats, vermin bands—they were all there. Sunflash recognized a figure near the end; it was obviously his grandsire, Boar the Fighter, armor-clad, armed with a great battleblade, putting searats to flight. Curiously, the next figure was very small, but quite heroic. It was a mouse, carrying a broken sword hung about his neck on a cord, and there were other smaller figures accompanying the mouse on a journey toward the mountain. Next was a likeness of the same creatures leaving Salamandastron, though this time the mouse was wielding a bright new sword of great beauty. Beyond that was a small space. Sunflash caught his breath. Carved into the wall was a clear picture of himself, carrying his mace over one shoulder, walking toward the mountain.