Part Four: Preparations
Lord Winterele raised an eyebrow as a large flood of words greeted him in his bed chamber. Holding up a paw for silence, he nodded at the fidgety Galloper. "Start over please, Diltherwhirl Dalerunn. And slower too, mind you."
Whirl gulped nervously. The use of his full name frightened him a bit. Taking a seat, the hare started over again.
"A large group o' bally vermin is headin' o'er, sah. Leader is a flippin' chap named Malavice. Dunno wot jolly species he is, though." After he had said that, the galloper began to tell him about his journey, starting with the rain and ending with when he had dashed over to Salamandastron. Winterele listened intently throughout the whole thing, then nodded slowly after Whirl had finished.
"I hope Embaril and the rest of the Patrol aren't very far away. How large did you say this horde was?"
The Galloper shrugged sullenly and sank into his chair. "I dunno, m'lud. Major Embaril an' th'rest o' th'bally patrol were goin' t'gather the details after I left t'blinkin' well inform you, wot! They should arrive soon, but I dunno when exactly."
The badger lord sighed and closed his eyes, mumbling to himself, "I knew this day would come." Blinking the surprise, the hare tilted his head to the right slightly, gazing at Winterele in confusion. "Wot, sah? Something the matter?"
The badger blinked also, then shook his head in a somewhat sad manner.
"No, nothing. Or at least, nothing for you to worry about. Tell your friends, Riversleek and Birchfire, was it? Well, tell them that I will be with them in a moment. I just need some time to think."
Winterele's voice trailed off and he gained a far away look in his eyes. Whirl cast him a worried look, then stepped out of the room quietly, pondering over the actions of his badger lord.
**
The sun was setting, giving the sky a purplish glow. Captain Imerilane placed a footpaw upon a boulder and scanned the horizon until her bright eyes rested on a large formidable figure further up. Tilting her head so she was facing the major, the hare flashed a brief smile.
"Salamandastron not far ahead. We'll get there by nightfall."
Major Embaril nodded curtly, then turned to the rest of the patrol and called out, "Take a break, you all. You deserve a rest."
Lieutenant Frillin bounded over to the rock Imerilane was sitting on and held out a canteen of water. The captain looked up at him in mild curiosity, then raised an eyebrow uncertainly. Frillin grinned roguishly and shook his head.
"Ah, dun worry, Immi m'gel, s'not poison. S' paying back fer yer brekkers."
The hare took the canteen and took a swig from it, then gave Frillin a playful shove, a sign that showed she forgave him.
Cramber and Dart sat together nearby. The two close friends were discussing the current predicament of Salamandastron, conversing in low tones.
"D'you think Whirl's made it t' the mountain, ole chap?"
Dart snorted. "Course he has. He's Whirl fer goodness sake, wot! Me real question is, kin we really defeat .erm.Wotsisface's horde? Blinkin' big 'un, if'n y'ask me."
Cramber looked up from the ground, his gaze lingering on the distant mountain of Salamandastron.
"Oh aye, we'll pull through somehow. Winterele'll think o' a bally way. Never knew th'lud not to."
**
In the forge chamber of Lord Winterele, a small collection of hares, squirrels, and crewbeasts from the Pridestream sat about, chattering amiably. The Salamandastron hares were getting to know those of the Treedance tribe, and there was much snickering from the Pridestream as the crewbeasts endlessly tormented Thicket about Firpine. The young squirrel would merely glower at them, but that did far less than stop them.
"I say, mate, wot happened to your fur? You just turned twenty shades of red!"
Thicket shot Lumir a wicked glance and smirked. "You turned even redder when Riversleek caught you'n'Kari foolin' 'round!"
Suddenly, the tables were turned. Kari and Lumir were bombarded with sniggers, hoots, and smirks. The mousemaid glared at Thicket and whapped his ear while Lumir pointed a shaking paw at him and wailed out with mock horror, "Eviiiilll!"
This sent the crew into further laughter, but all sound was immediately stopped when Winterele entered the forge room. Casting Riversleek's crew an odd glance, who all smiled sheepishly in response, and took a seat.
"Now, I believe you all know what I called you in here for. Not to laugh and joke, not to scream or wail, but to discuss the horde on it's way to Salamandastron."
Lumir sunk deeper into his seat as he saw a few glance his way at the word 'wail,' but the badger lord took no notice.
"First, I would like to thank the Treedance and Pridestream for willingly helping Salamandastron in this situation."
A loud chorus of thanks from the hares greeted the squirrels' and crewbeasts' ears. Once the voices had died down, Winterele continued.
"Now back to business. Until Major Embaril arrives with the information he and the Long Patrol have gathered, we will not know what their numbers are and etcetera. But we can still make plans. I'm thinking that if we can surround the stoat's forces, it will come as an advantage to us. Any disagreements?"
Seeing that no beast protested, the badger said, "Good. Now, when we meet Malavice on the battlefield and the battle ensues, I want our forces to break into three flanks. Two will circle around the horde, surrounding them on the other end and pressing them back towards Salamandastron, where the third flank will meet them. Each flank will be controlled by a certain leader here. The first flank will consist of the Treedance tribe, led by Birchfire, and the second will be the Pridestream crew, it's leader being Riversleek. And the third, the fighting hares of Salamandastron will be led by myself and Major Embaril, should he return."
A silence followed this, consisting of nodding, shrugs, and simple gestures of agreement. Nodding in satisfaction, Winterele gave a small flick of his paw in a simple gesture. "Thank you all. Dismissed."
**
As Captain Imerilane had estimated, the Long Patrol arrived at Salamandastron after the sun had set and was greeted by an overly excited Whirl and a large mass of creatures whom they did not know. Introductions were made, battle plans were discussed, and a certain lieutenant was constantly shoved by a certain captain. The Galloper, much happy to see his companions again after a short while away from them, chattered endlessly to a group of tired and well worn hares. It was only when Flimipaw could no longer suppress a yawn that Whirl finally realized how tired the patrol was. Instantly apologetic, he led them to their bunks, though his talking still had not ceased. Heran, the head cook of Salamandastron, basically had to lead the young galloper to a kitchen full of damson pudding in order to stop him from speaking excitedly.
It was near midnight when Major Embaril retired to his bunk. Nearby, his comrades and fellow patrollers slept soundly, with an emphasis on 'soundly.' At the sound of her commanding officer's return, Imerilane woke groggily. The captain had never been a heavy sleeper, and that day was certainly not an exception. Peering at the major through half closed eyes, she murmured sleepily, "Wot did th' lord say, sah?"
"Battle."
Embaril's short but meaning filled word brought uneasiness to the Long Patrol captain. Still, she shrugged it off. She would deal with it in the morning. The Major certainly did not have enough energy to talk about it, anyway. Falling back onto her pillow, Imerilane buried her face into the soft fabric and slowly drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
Lord Winterele raised an eyebrow as a large flood of words greeted him in his bed chamber. Holding up a paw for silence, he nodded at the fidgety Galloper. "Start over please, Diltherwhirl Dalerunn. And slower too, mind you."
Whirl gulped nervously. The use of his full name frightened him a bit. Taking a seat, the hare started over again.
"A large group o' bally vermin is headin' o'er, sah. Leader is a flippin' chap named Malavice. Dunno wot jolly species he is, though." After he had said that, the galloper began to tell him about his journey, starting with the rain and ending with when he had dashed over to Salamandastron. Winterele listened intently throughout the whole thing, then nodded slowly after Whirl had finished.
"I hope Embaril and the rest of the Patrol aren't very far away. How large did you say this horde was?"
The Galloper shrugged sullenly and sank into his chair. "I dunno, m'lud. Major Embaril an' th'rest o' th'bally patrol were goin' t'gather the details after I left t'blinkin' well inform you, wot! They should arrive soon, but I dunno when exactly."
The badger lord sighed and closed his eyes, mumbling to himself, "I knew this day would come." Blinking the surprise, the hare tilted his head to the right slightly, gazing at Winterele in confusion. "Wot, sah? Something the matter?"
The badger blinked also, then shook his head in a somewhat sad manner.
"No, nothing. Or at least, nothing for you to worry about. Tell your friends, Riversleek and Birchfire, was it? Well, tell them that I will be with them in a moment. I just need some time to think."
Winterele's voice trailed off and he gained a far away look in his eyes. Whirl cast him a worried look, then stepped out of the room quietly, pondering over the actions of his badger lord.
**
The sun was setting, giving the sky a purplish glow. Captain Imerilane placed a footpaw upon a boulder and scanned the horizon until her bright eyes rested on a large formidable figure further up. Tilting her head so she was facing the major, the hare flashed a brief smile.
"Salamandastron not far ahead. We'll get there by nightfall."
Major Embaril nodded curtly, then turned to the rest of the patrol and called out, "Take a break, you all. You deserve a rest."
Lieutenant Frillin bounded over to the rock Imerilane was sitting on and held out a canteen of water. The captain looked up at him in mild curiosity, then raised an eyebrow uncertainly. Frillin grinned roguishly and shook his head.
"Ah, dun worry, Immi m'gel, s'not poison. S' paying back fer yer brekkers."
The hare took the canteen and took a swig from it, then gave Frillin a playful shove, a sign that showed she forgave him.
Cramber and Dart sat together nearby. The two close friends were discussing the current predicament of Salamandastron, conversing in low tones.
"D'you think Whirl's made it t' the mountain, ole chap?"
Dart snorted. "Course he has. He's Whirl fer goodness sake, wot! Me real question is, kin we really defeat .erm.Wotsisface's horde? Blinkin' big 'un, if'n y'ask me."
Cramber looked up from the ground, his gaze lingering on the distant mountain of Salamandastron.
"Oh aye, we'll pull through somehow. Winterele'll think o' a bally way. Never knew th'lud not to."
**
In the forge chamber of Lord Winterele, a small collection of hares, squirrels, and crewbeasts from the Pridestream sat about, chattering amiably. The Salamandastron hares were getting to know those of the Treedance tribe, and there was much snickering from the Pridestream as the crewbeasts endlessly tormented Thicket about Firpine. The young squirrel would merely glower at them, but that did far less than stop them.
"I say, mate, wot happened to your fur? You just turned twenty shades of red!"
Thicket shot Lumir a wicked glance and smirked. "You turned even redder when Riversleek caught you'n'Kari foolin' 'round!"
Suddenly, the tables were turned. Kari and Lumir were bombarded with sniggers, hoots, and smirks. The mousemaid glared at Thicket and whapped his ear while Lumir pointed a shaking paw at him and wailed out with mock horror, "Eviiiilll!"
This sent the crew into further laughter, but all sound was immediately stopped when Winterele entered the forge room. Casting Riversleek's crew an odd glance, who all smiled sheepishly in response, and took a seat.
"Now, I believe you all know what I called you in here for. Not to laugh and joke, not to scream or wail, but to discuss the horde on it's way to Salamandastron."
Lumir sunk deeper into his seat as he saw a few glance his way at the word 'wail,' but the badger lord took no notice.
"First, I would like to thank the Treedance and Pridestream for willingly helping Salamandastron in this situation."
A loud chorus of thanks from the hares greeted the squirrels' and crewbeasts' ears. Once the voices had died down, Winterele continued.
"Now back to business. Until Major Embaril arrives with the information he and the Long Patrol have gathered, we will not know what their numbers are and etcetera. But we can still make plans. I'm thinking that if we can surround the stoat's forces, it will come as an advantage to us. Any disagreements?"
Seeing that no beast protested, the badger said, "Good. Now, when we meet Malavice on the battlefield and the battle ensues, I want our forces to break into three flanks. Two will circle around the horde, surrounding them on the other end and pressing them back towards Salamandastron, where the third flank will meet them. Each flank will be controlled by a certain leader here. The first flank will consist of the Treedance tribe, led by Birchfire, and the second will be the Pridestream crew, it's leader being Riversleek. And the third, the fighting hares of Salamandastron will be led by myself and Major Embaril, should he return."
A silence followed this, consisting of nodding, shrugs, and simple gestures of agreement. Nodding in satisfaction, Winterele gave a small flick of his paw in a simple gesture. "Thank you all. Dismissed."
**
As Captain Imerilane had estimated, the Long Patrol arrived at Salamandastron after the sun had set and was greeted by an overly excited Whirl and a large mass of creatures whom they did not know. Introductions were made, battle plans were discussed, and a certain lieutenant was constantly shoved by a certain captain. The Galloper, much happy to see his companions again after a short while away from them, chattered endlessly to a group of tired and well worn hares. It was only when Flimipaw could no longer suppress a yawn that Whirl finally realized how tired the patrol was. Instantly apologetic, he led them to their bunks, though his talking still had not ceased. Heran, the head cook of Salamandastron, basically had to lead the young galloper to a kitchen full of damson pudding in order to stop him from speaking excitedly.
It was near midnight when Major Embaril retired to his bunk. Nearby, his comrades and fellow patrollers slept soundly, with an emphasis on 'soundly.' At the sound of her commanding officer's return, Imerilane woke groggily. The captain had never been a heavy sleeper, and that day was certainly not an exception. Peering at the major through half closed eyes, she murmured sleepily, "Wot did th' lord say, sah?"
"Battle."
Embaril's short but meaning filled word brought uneasiness to the Long Patrol captain. Still, she shrugged it off. She would deal with it in the morning. The Major certainly did not have enough energy to talk about it, anyway. Falling back onto her pillow, Imerilane buried her face into the soft fabric and slowly drifted off into a dreamless sleep.