30

Algador Swiftback cast a fleeting glance backward as he marched on into the gathering evening. “Whew! I say, weve covered a fair old stretch today. Salamandastrons completely out o sight!

Drill Sergeant Clubrushs voice growled close to his ear. “The mountain might be out o sight, laddie buck, but Im not! No talkin in the ranks there, keep pickin those paws up an puttinem down. Left right, left right, left right ...

More than five hundred hares of the Long Patrol, some veterans but mainly new recruits, tramped eastward into the dusk, with Lady Cregga Rose Eyes, axpike on shoulder, always far ahead.

The lolloping young hare named Trowbaggs still had difficulty in learning to march properly. He put his left paw down when everybeast was on their right, and vice versa, and for the umpteenth time that day he stumbled, treading on the foot-paws of the hare marching in front.

“Oops! Sorry, old chap, the blinkin footpaws yknow, get-tin themselves mixed up again, right left, right left ...

Deodar shook her head in despair as she watched him. Trowbaggs, ygreat puddenhead, its left right, not right

Clubrushs stentorian voice rang out over the marchers: “Long Patrolhalt! Stand still everybeastthat means you too, Trowbaggs, you orrible liddle beast!

Thankfully, the marching lines halted, standing to attention until the order was given.

“First Regiment, stand at ease! Water an wood foragers fall out! Duty cooks, take up chores! Lance Corporal Ellbrig, pick out yore sentries for first watch! The remainder of you, lay out ypacks an groundsheets, check all weapons an arms! Four neat rows now, clear away any nettles an prickles over f therethats yore campsite for tonight, you lucky lot!

Hares dashed hither and thither on their various duties as Sergeant and Lance Corporal roared out orders. In a short time, military precision resulted in camp being set up.

Algador sat with his companions by the shallows of a small pond, everybeast cooling off their footpaws and resting on their packs.

urgale lay flat on his back, complaining to the stars: “Oh, my aunties bonnet! I thought ol Clubrush was goin to march us all bally night. Look, theres steam risin out of the water where Im dippin me pore old paws!

The Sergeants tone was almost an outraged squeal. “Get those dirty great sweaty dustridden paws out o that water! Its for drinkin, not sloshin about in. Trowbaggs, whatn the name o seasons are you up to, bucko?

“Wrappin mself up in me groundsheet, Sarge. Good

Veins stood out on the Sergeants brow as he roared at the s blunderer, “Sleepin? Who said you could sleep, sah? Get that equipment cleaned, lay out yore mess kit, line up for Stopper! Forget sleep. Trowbaggs, stay awake! Yore on second f;: Trowbaggs groaned aloud as he searched in the dark for his mess kit. “Somebeasts pinched me flippin spoon. Oh, Mother, I want to go home. Save me from all this, I wasnt Hgptout for it, wot!

“Never mind, scout, a kindly older hare named Shangle fidepad whispered to him, “it gets worse before it gets jolly well better. Here, Ill swap with you. Im on first watch. You do it and Ill take second sentry for you, that way youll be able tget a full nights sleep.

When the camp had quieted down and was running smoothly, Clubrush went to sit beside Lady Cregga at the ponds far side. She looked up from polishing her axhead and asked, “How are they doing. Sergeant?

“Oh, theyll shape up, rnarrn, never fear. First days always the longest for the green ones. Praps if we dont march em as ard an far tomorrer ...

The rose eyes glinted dangerously. “Theyll learn to march twice as hard and fast, aye, and fight like they never imagined before Im done with them. I never brought them along on any picnic, and the sooner they realize that the better. Dismissed, Sergeant Clubrush!

The Sergeant stood to attention and saluted. “Aye, marm, thank ye, marm!

Clubrush went to where his equipment was neatly laid out. Somebeast had carefully folded his groundsheet so that he could retire immediately without making it up into a sleeping bag. Being an old campaigner, the Sergeant upset the sheet with his pace stick. A pile of nettles and some soggy bank sand flopped out on the ground.

He lay down on the clean dry part of the sheet and shouted, “Oowow! Who put this lot in me bed? You orrible rotten lot, Ill march yore blatherin paws to a frazzle in the mornin!

Smothered giggles sounded from the recruits area. Sergeant Clubrush smiled as he settled down. They were good young uns; hed do all he could to help them make the grade.

Obeying Damugs orders, Gaduss the weasel had scouted north with his patrol all day, reaching the southern edge of Mossflower Wood by nightfall. He allowed no fires to be lit in the small camp set up at the outer tree fringe. The night passed uneventfully.

In the hour before dawn, the scouts broke camp and pressed on. They had not been traveling long when the weasel gave a signal. Dropping flat in a patch of ferns, the vermin patrol watched Gaduss wriggle forward. Through the mist-wreathed tree trunks a silent figure moved, seeking shadows between shafts of dawn light.

Gaduss unlooped from his belt a greased strangling noose 4 fashioned from animal sinew. Winding it around both paws, K he inched forward until he was shielded by an ash tree, directly in the travelers path. Timing it just right, he leapt out behind the unwary creature and whipped the noose over his head and round his neck.

Rinkul was fortunate in that it also looped over the stick he was carrying. In panic, he pushed outward with the piece of polished hardwood, preventing the sinew from biting into his windpipe. Both beasts went down, rolling over and over in the loam, jacking, snapping, and scratching at each other. The vermin broke cover and dashed to assist their officer, tearing the fight-frag duo apart. Seconds later the two were face-to-face, Gaduss wide-eyed with surprise.

“Rinkul, wotn the name o bloodnclaws are you doin ere?

The ferret massaged his neck where the noose had bruised it. “Findin me way back ter Gormad Tunn an the army. Nice rception yer gave me, mate, arf choked me ter death!

Gaduss stuffed the noose back into his belt. “You avent eard, then. Gormads dead, so is Byral, tis Damug Warfang w hos Firstblade of Rapscallions now. Whereve ybeen? Rinkul sat down on a rotting stump. “Been? Thats a long ry, mate. Our ship was driven off course an wrecked up the northeast coast. Ive been through a lot o things an the onlybeast left alive out o a shipload. But thats by by. Get me ter Damug Warfang, Ive got news fer is ears eurgent news!