In the forge room, the hares sprang aside as the wall gap rumbled wide. Sunflash opened it by using his great mace as a lever, then he squeezed through and pulled the mace after him not a moment too soon. The rock rift ground back into place, closing the gap in the forge-room wall. They stared curiously at the Badger Lord as he stood there calmly, a faraway look in his dark eyes.
Sundew was profuse in her apologies. “Beggin’ your pardon, m’Lord, we should never’ve ventured this far into your personal quarters, but we were so worried!”
Bradders had also come along with the search party. “I say, Lord, you must be absolutely starvin’, old Sire. The last mouthful of scoff you had was breakfast, three flippin’ mornin’s ago—must make a chap jolly hungry, that sort of thing!”
Sunflash rubbed his eyes and shook his great head to bring himself back to normality. He patted Sundew’s paw. “You did the right thing, young ’un. Bradders is right though, I’m really hungry. Is breakfast over?”
Porty, the fat young hare who was Bradders’s pal, nodded. “Not a bally crumb left, old lad, er, I mean Sire.”
Sunflash could not help chuckling at the tubby hare. “I couldn’t imagine there being much left on any table once you’ve had your fill, wobblechops. Never mind, I’ll fix something for myself in the kitchens.”
Sundew whispered in Sunflash’s ear, “First you must come to the sickbay—there is an urgent matter that can’t wait.”
* * *
Sunflash recognized the two slight figures laid in twin beds immediately. He went to them and took their paws. “I remember you two—it’s Breeze and Starbuck. You’re the two elders who met me when I arrived here that first day.”
Starbuck blinked his rheumy old eyes and coughed fitfully. “Aye, Sire, that was us. Do you know, we both served under your grandsire Boar the Fighter.”
Sunflash looked closer at both creatures. It was then that he realized just how old they really were. He turned to Sundew, saying, “If this is right they must have more seasons on them than anybeasts I have known.”
The young hare dampened a cloth and wiped the wrinkled brows of both the ancients. “They speak true, Lord. These two are the only ones left who fought alongside your grandsire, and how they lived this long, nobeast knows. Every last day of autumn season since the death of Boar the Fighter, they have both stood in the main cave entrance by the shore, as if awaiting your coming.”
Breeze pressed Sunflash’s paw feebly. “Lord Boar told us of a dream he had; he told us to watch for the goldstriped warrior. You came, now our waiting is at an end—is that not so, Starbuck?”
The old male smiled weakly and managed a nod. “Aye, ’tis so, sister, our duty is done now. We go to the dark forest. Lord Boar will have a great feast prepared in our honor.”
Sunflash pressed Starbuck’s paw gently. “Tell me about my grandsire,” he said.
Starbuck gazed at his small withered paw, almost lost in the badger’s massive one. “What is there to tell, Sire? Boar was a mighty fighter. None could stand against him when the bloodwrath took him. He was a true Badger Lord, and so are you. I see it in your eyes, feel it in your paw. You will be a mighty warrior, even greater and more fearsome than you are now, eh, Breeze?”
The old female tightened her hold on Sunflash’s paw. “Aye, that is true, but you will fare better than Lord Boar, because you love young ones and babes, I know this. The young will always befriend and admire you. Boar was a lonely creature; the only babe he ever spoke of was your mother, Bella. She was his babe, but all the young ones of the earth belong to you in friendship. Be good to them.”
Sunflash and Sundew stayed with Starbuck and Breeze until they fell asleep, then they left the room quietly and went down to the kitchens. Sunflash felt two things: hunger and the need to cheer up after his long sojourn in the secret chamber and the saddening experience of sitting with two old creatures whose seasons had run out. The cooks looked up from their steaming pots and bubbling concoctions as Sunflash entered. They bowed briefly, and the Head Cook, a fat, bad-tempered bachelor hare, inquired, “Do you require food, Sire? I will cook your meal myself.”
Sunflash lifted the lid of a pot and sniffed its contents, saying, “Hmm, porridge again! Don’t we ever have anything more exciting?”
Clang! The Head Cook slammed his ladle down on a pan lid. “Sire, you are in my domain now, the kitchens. You are also in my way—kindly take yourself off somewhere!”
All work in the kitchens stopped; the younger hares, who were minor cooks and helpers, held their breath momentarily. The head cook was something of a tyrant, and they wanted to see how the new Badger Lord fared against him.
Sunflash could have cowed the Head Cook with a single glance, but the badger never used bullying tactics. Instead he began peeling a big russet apple, smiling at his opponent. “What d’you put in your porridge, friend?” he asked.
“Salt, oats’n’water—what else would y’put in porridge, eh?” the cook replied snappishly.
The badger began tipping the ingredients in the pot as he spoke. “A lot more oats to thicken it up, less salt, more greensap milk than water, a good portion of honeycomb, maybe some dried fruit, apple rings, hazelnuts. Don’t let it cook too long, turn it out onto a tray to cool, slice it up in squares, and you’ve got good sweet oatcake, best eaten warm from an oven.”
An instant round of applause went up from the kitchen helpers. The Head Cook turned on Sunflash, furious at having another experimenting with his porridge. “That’s not the way I’d make porridge, Sire. Who taught you to cook, if I may make so bold as to ask?”
Sunflash finished peeling and coring the apple. “Moles and hedgehogs, friend—the best cooks I ever knew. See this apple? Stuff the corehole with candied chestnuts and a dribble of honey, bake it in the oven, then serve it piping hot with meadowcream—ever tried it?”
The cook thrust out his chin defiantly. “No! And what’s more, I wouldn’t want to!”
“H’I would, Sir, frizzle me paws, it soun’s wunnerful, it do!”
The Head Cook glared at the young hare who had piped up.
Sunflash strode over and shook the keen-eyed youngster’s paw. “What’s your name, mate?” he said.
“Bloggwood, Sire!”
“Well, I like the look of you, Bloggwood. Are you a good cook?”
“As good as any, Sire, an’ willin’ t’learn. I likes t’cook!”
“And tell me, Bloggwood, if you were in charge round here and somebeast came to you with a tasty recipe, what would you do?”
“Well, h’I’d ’elp ’em t’cook it an’ see if’n we c’d make it taste even better!”
With a few deft movements, Sunflash snatched the Head Cook’s tall hat and placed it on the young hare’s head; then, lifting Bloggwood with one paw, he set him on top of a table.
“As Badger Lord of Salamandastron, I appoint you, Bloggwood, new Head Cook in my kitchens. The rest of you—will you help our friend to produce good and tasty meals?”
Ladles and aprons were hurled high in the air, and the helpers and assistants cheered aloud.
The former Head Cook stood in front of Sunflash, hatless and bewildered by the sudden turn of events.
“But what about me? What’ll I do?” he cried.
Sunflash threw a friendly paw about his shoulder, saying, “Well, you’ve never liked cooking, have you?”
“Of course not, but it’s a job. Somebeast’s got to do it.”
“Right, but you didn’t like doing it, so you don’t have to do it any longer. What d’you really like doing, friend?”
“Well, er, I’ve always been interested in brewing ales, cordials, and wine. Here, would you like to try some of my cowslip wine, Sire?”
The hare opened a cupboard and pulled out a flagon and beakers.
Sunflash watched him pour two beakers full, and said, “Why not, I’ll try anything once.” He sipped, and rolled his eyes appreciatively. “This is excellent! Can you make fizzy strawberry cordial for little ones?”
The hare winked, and snorted, “Can I make fizzy strawberry cordial? Listen, matey, er, Sire, I can make it so fizzy it’d curl your fur!”
Sunflash shook him heartily by the paw. “Well said! Go and see our cellarkeeper and tell him his workload is halved, because I’ve just appointed you joint Chief Cellarkeeper and Winemaker Brewer of Salamandastron!”
* * *
As Sunflash and Bloggwood produced a tasty giant turnover of leek, carrot, mushroom, and dark gravy between them, word got around. Hares came filing into the kitchens with requests and observations, knowing the new Badger Lord would give them a fair and good hearing. He did!
Within the space of half a morning, Sunflash the Mace had appointed an assistant cellarbeast, two flower gardeners, a new sickbay assistant, a carpenter, banquet arranger, and a whole host of young ones who wanted to be armorers and forge assistants to the Badger Lord.
Later, Sundew sat with Bloggwood and some others, as they helped themselves to an impromptu lunch of the big turnover, which had been named a Bloggflash Special.
The badger put aside two slices, rich, dark gravy seeping from them onto the plates as he popped them in the oven.
“Keep an eye on them slices, Sundew,” he said, “They’ll do for Starbuck and Breeze’s supper tonight. The old ’uns’ll enjoy my turnover.”
Sundew wiggled her ears in admiration of the Badger Lord. “Well, well, Sire, you’ve certainly made some jolly old changes round here. I’d say you’re doin’ a spiffin’ job, wot!”
Sunflash shoved her lightly, almost sending her sprawling. “You can stop wiggling your ears at me, missie—besides, you’ll have to show a little more dignity now that I’ve decided to appoint you as my confidential aide.”
Skipping and laughing, Sundew almost collided with Porty, who was holding up a chubby paw for Sunflash’s attention. “I say, old Sire, can I be official food taster? I’d be jolly good at that I think.”
Sunflash roared, laughing until he had to hold his sides. At suppertime, Sunflash and Sundew took the turnover slices up to the sick bay, only to find Dewfleck, a quiet older hare whom Sunflash had appointed as sick-bay assistant that morning, sitting weeping on the top stair. Her face was buried in her paws as her whole body shook fitfully.
Sadly the badger set down the two plates and sat on the stairs next to her. “It’s Breeze and Starbuck, isn’t it?” he asked.
She nodded, sobbing brokenly. “Oh, Sire, they was ’oldin’ paws, just lyin’ there all peaceful like. I thought they were ’avin’ a little doze, but ole Breeze an’ Starbuck, they was . . . Boohoohoohoo!”
Sunflash dried her eyes with the corner of a kitchen apron he had been wearing all day. “There, there, hush now, those old ’uns were looking forward to meeting their friends in the Dark Forest, they told me that only this morning. Isn’t that right, Sundew?”
The young hare sniffed as she wiped her eyes against the apron. “Absolutely, Sire. They’ll never have t’face a rotten ol’ winter again; they’re both happy now, along with your grandsire.”
* * *
Throughout that long winter the hares of Salamandastron came to know and love their new Lord. Sunflash was all things to them: friend to the old, counselor to the young, and playmate to the babes, who were his constant delight. He looked forward eagerly to the spring, when he planned to take up farming once more. Often on dreary winter afternoons the forge room was alive with helpers as Sunflash and his blacksmiths turned out spades, hoes, rakes, and trowels, in readiness for the coming season’s planting and cultivation. The badger had almost forgotten about his foebeast, Swartt Sixclaw, and would not think of him until the arrival of Skarlath in the early spring.