THE CRIMSON BADGER - Chapter Fifty-Six
Halpryn and Klystra came winging out of the southeast, having rounded the lower end of the mountain range to make sure that the hares of the Long Patrol would not be able to see them. The lowering sun stood just above the far horizon of the endless seascape, its late rays casting a glow of burnished gold over the gentle wavetops. The last of the Northlander troops were wading ashore from their crossing of the wide, shallow river. The army of Urthblood was now all upon the north shore of the stream, spread out into regimental encampments of various species. No further obstacle stood between them and Salamandastron; another full day's march, or perhaps a bit more, would take them to the foot of the mountain.
Winokur, back into his dry habit after shaking the excess water from his pelt, stood alongside Urthblood with a few of the other otters, paw to brow, scanning the northern reaches of the coast. "M'Lord, is that the top of Salamandastron I can make out?"
The badger squinted. It was still a clear afternoon, in spite of the clouds building in the east beyond the mountains.
"Yes it is. Most of the mountain is still below the horizon, but we are now close enough to see the very top of the plateau. Were the day just a bit hazier, it would still be hidden from us."
"But y' say it's only a day's march away, Lord?" Captain Saybrook queried. "Salamandastron must not be all that big, if we're so close an' most of it's still under the horizon line."
"It is big enough, as you will soon see," Urthblood told his otter captain. "Remember, Salamandastron was once a volcano, in ages long past. It is immense, but it has a flat top. If it peaked like these mountains to our right, we would have seen it long before now ... and any watchers on its top would have been able to see us."
"Don't suppose they can see us now?" Warnokur asked.
"I think not. As I said before, this stream behind us is not visible from Salamandastron, and we are right on its banks. I think it is only some trick of distance and atmosphere that allows us to see it from here. I am sure we are still unseen."
"Hmm, mebbe so," said Saybrook. "But I guess that splashes any chance of us gettin' near th' place undetected, eh? Even an all-night march from this spot wouldn't get us there before daybreak, so looks like we won't be catchin' those hares by surprise."
"There are surprises, and then there are surprises." Urthblood glanced up, spotting his kite and falcon captains dropping toward them. "Excuse me, I have to go talk to my birds now," he said, and ambled away toward the spot where Halpryn and Klystra were settling down on the sandy ground.
Warnokur looked to Saybrook. "Surprises, eh? Wot d'you s'pose that big fella has in mind, Cap'n?"
The Northlander shrugged. "Knowin' Lord Urthblood, could be anything, Warny mate. But we'll find out soon 'nuff, you can be sure o' that!"
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After a rapid-fire conference with "his birds," Urtblood called Saybrook over to him. Winokur looked on from a distance, since he hadn't been invited and it appeared the badger wanted to speak with Saybrook alone. The otter stood before his master, listening intently and punctuating his side of the brief conversation with brisk nods. Moments later Saybrook was jogging across the sand back toward Winokur and the others.
"Awright, mateys, lissen up! Lord Urthblood wants a full meeting with all the otters, double quick! We're gonna lead the assault on Salamandastron. He'll give us all th' details of his plan soon as we're assembled, so shift those rudders an' gather 'round His Lordship, pronto!" He turned to Winokur. "Whaddya say, Wink lad? Wanna be part o' the front wave that puts those hares in their places?"
"Um, I'd better not. I'm here to try to stop any fighting, not to take part in it, remember?"
"Well, that's still reason to sit in on this briefing anyway. I'm sure Lord Urthblood wouldn't mind, an' you'll wanna hear what's up."
"That I will," Winokur agreed, falling into step with his father and the rest of the otters as they assembled around the Badger Lord. Within moments all were seated in a large crescent around Urthblood. Halpryn and Klystra remained at the badger's side.
"The situation at Salamandastron is much as I anticipated," Urthblood began, drawing a simple diagram in the sand with a stick. "Three entrances have been left open, including the topmost one, here in the center of the plateau. The other two are here, halfway up the south face, and here, slightly higher up on the north slopes. There is also the main entrance here, facing the sea, but it is sealed by a heavy timber gate, which my brother may have shored up from within with additional timbers, or piled rocks. We may ignore it for now, since it is no way in for an invading force. We can assume the two side tunnels and roof stairs will be guarded by Long Patrol at all times. Klystra and Halpryn believe there are constant lookouts on the mountaintop during daylight hours, and perhaps at night as well. No large land force could approach any closer than we are now without being seen."
"Sounds like it, M'Lord." Saybrook stroked his chin. "But, how'd our two winged friends get close enuff to see all this without bein' seen themselves?"
"By doing the exact opposite of what the Long Patrol would expect of spies. Far from trying to hide, Klystra and Halpryn made their presence as obvious as possible. They played the part of wanderers whose only interest was in raiding the mountainside gardens. They would not appear to be part of any military force, or to be probing Salamandastron for weaknesses."
"Ah!" Saybrook nodded. "So that's why you had 'em take off their vests! So, how'd it work?"
"Very well, it would seem, since the commander of the Long Patrol forces there sought to pursuade them to become spies for his side, on the lookout for us, in exchange for food and drink from Salamandastron's kitchens."
This elicted roars of laughter from the assembled otters. Even Winokur had to chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. The two birds clacked their hooked beaks in approval, if not outright laughter.
"Wait a minute," Saybrook said through the subsiding guffaws. "You mean t' say the chief hare actually met with them? Talked to them?"
Urthblood nodded. "And the second-in-command, it would appear."
"Well, then, why didn't your birds just take them out then? That would have left the remainin' Long Patrols with no leaders, an' made our job a whole lot easier."
"Take them out?"
"You know, sir ... slay 'em. Stab their hearts out, or whisk 'em off for a drop from half a mile up - "
Urthblood cut Saybrook off. "Captain, I have made it clear that I wish to take Salamandastron without any loss of life if I can do so. I will assume that these hares are still goodbeasts until I am convinced otherwise. Some of them might even be old acquaintances of mine from the seasons when I dwelt there. I will not have any slain out of paw."
"Yes, M'Lord." Saybrook hung his head, mildly chagrined. Winokur regarded him, surprised that the otter captain could harbor such bloodthirsty thoughts toward hares who'd never done him any harm.
"Quite apart from that," Urthblood went on, "I wanted nothing done which might arouse the suspicions of the defenders we face. Klystra and Halpryn were only there to gather information. Any attack by them might have made the remaining hares wonder if there were other hostile forces in the area. And the Long Patrol are formidable fighters. Halpryn and Klystra may have been grievously harmed had they assaulted the hares. They are too valuable to me as scouts and lookouts to risk them in such a way."
His gaze fell back to his drawing in the sand. "So. We know which ways into the mountain are open to us. That leaves the dilemma of how to use them before they can be blocked off, and how to overcome the score of hares inside without harming them.
"The first part is easy: we launch a surprise assault, insert a force into the mountain before the hares have time to seal the entrances. As I have said, no land force could approach any closer than we are now without being seen. But the Long Patrol will not be expecting an assault from the sea, especially not at night. That is why I have chosen you otters for this mission."
Every otter there leaned forward, eyes wide and ears pricked. An earthquake could not have diverted their attention from Urthblood now. Winokur, like the rest, hung on every word.
"You will leave as soon as the evening meal is over. Otters can swim much faster than most beasts can move on land. You should be able to reach Salamandastron by midnight. When the Long Patrols look to the sea at all, it is to watch for searat vessels; a brigade of otters in the water at night should be nearly invisible to them, even if they happen to be looking in your direction. You should be able to make it ashore undetected."
"That gets us there," Saybrook said. "Then what?"
Urthblood pointed his stick at various features in his diagram. "You'll notice the two unblocked side tunnels face north and south. At high tide and in rough seas, the ocean comes almost to the western foot of Salamandastron. If you land directly opposite the fortress and move straight ashore, guards at neither tunnel entrance will be able to see you; the curve of the mountain will hide you from them. Only a lookout on top might be able to see you, and then only if they are looking right at you. The weather may be to our favor. A cover of cloud is moving in from the east. If it arrives in time to hide moon and stars during your assault, you may be able to climb well up the mountainside, and perhaps even gain the two tunnel entrances, before any alarm can be raised."
"What about the top entrance?" Saybrook asked.
"Klystra and Halpryn will be covering it," Urthblood replied. "With a tarp."
"Huh?"
"Our strategy will not be to drive the Long Patrol out of Salamandastron, but to keep them inside while they can be rendered harmless."
Saybrook twiddled a whisker in his paw. "Twenty hares 'gainst over twoscore otters, with those birdies guardin' the top bolt hole ... I can live with those odds. But they'll fight, sir. Don't see how we can capture 'em all alive, or not suffer any losses of our own, fer that matter."
"Fighting won't be your biggest challenge," said Urthblood. "Finding them all in good time will. It has been said that Salamandastron is a town inside a mountain. It is perhaps vaster than you appreciate. Twenty hares could lose themselves totally in all those chambers and passages. Pursuing them through their own home tunnels would be a futile effort."
"Then what're we to do?" asked Saybrook, stricken by sudden visions of his otters being picked off one by one in those endless passages.
Urthblood's answer was simple. "We shall put Salamandastron to sleep."
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Saybrook stood at the water's edge, fidgeting and testing the harness straps of his back carrier. "Had no idea we was carryin' so much o' this waterlogged stuff!"
Nearly fifty otters were lined up along the tideline, silhouetted against the last crimson shreds of the set sun. Every one had been outfitted with a specially padded knapsack, shaped like a tall, narrow cylinder; each backpack contained one ceramic vessel of the Flitchaye sleeping gas oil, the two ingredients isolated from each other in their separate compartments until the clay containers could be smashed open upon the stone floors of Salamandastron. The knapsack carriers were designed to keep their contents dry during the otters' swim, and to keep the vessels from accidentally breaking if they were roughly jostled during their climb up the dark mountain slopes. It was clear that Urthblood had been planning for an otter assault on his old home since before they'd come down to Mossflower from the Northlands.
"There were sixty, all told," Urthblood explained to his otter captain, "including the two vessels that were used in the underwater searat craft. I believe in carrying reserves for such unforeseen circumstances. I had them in with the other supplies that the rats and weasels carried, since those brigades were so much larger than yours, and I wanted you otters unencumbered for fighting if battle should have unexpectedly found us."
"Rat's an' weasels, eh?" Saybrook hefted the padded backpack straining at his shoulder muscles. "Heavy enuff fer us otters. Must've been a real burden fer those smaller mateys of ours."
"I heard no complaints."
"Um ... no, I reckon you wouldn't, M'Lord."
"This supply should be adequate to fill all of Salamandastron," Urtblood went on. "The gas has a tendency to rise, so your attack plan is designed accordingly. You won't need to send more than two or three otters all the way up the slopes to the plateau, since Halpryn and Klystra will be covering that opening, and they will each have a Flitchaye oil jar of their own to render unconscious any Long Patrol guards who are up there. Their main job will be to chase any hares on night lookout duty back down the stairs into the tunnel, and then to cover that entrance with a tarp so that the gas can fully flood the mountain's interior without being drawn right back out through the top like smoke from a chimney. I doubt any solitary hare would tangle with hunting birds of this size, not when the safety of a tunnel is only a few paces away. So this is the part of the plan I expect to go smoothest."
Saybrook glanced over at the two birds, standing a short distance away on the wet sand. Each had one of the Flitchaye oil packs slung over their regular heavy tunics, the loads protruding from their breasts so that their wings would be unhindered for flying. Halpryn the kite, who was the larger of the two, stood atop a folded parcel of thick tarpaulin. She would bear it in her talons as she flew to Salamandastron. The kite was easily powerful enough to handle such a double burden.
"It will be wise to send somebeasts up along the outside of the mountain, just in case Halpryn and Klystra require assistance," Urthblood said. "But two or three should be enough. You will need to concentrate most of your forces on the lower assaults.
"Roughly half a dozen should go to the north entrance. Their main objective will be to gas whatever guards are stationed near the tunnel mouth, and take care of any others farther inside who might come to their aid. I am familiar with that passage; it is long but narrow, and very confining. Two or three jars of the Flitchaye oil, thrown back far along the tunnel, should produce vapors thick enough to repel any reinforcements drawn there by our activity. Remember, our goal is to keep all twenty of those hares inside Salamandastron while the sleeping gas has a chance to thoroughly permeate all the chambers and passages.
"Your main force must be directed at the entrance on the south face. It is lower, and leads more directly to the cellar and storeroom levels of the fortress. After overcoming the hares at the entrance, you must make your way to those lowest levels as quickly as you can, where you will release the bulk of the Flitchaye gas so that it can drift upward and affect all of the mountain. If you meet resistance along the way, you can clear the path ahead by breaking more jars to your forward position. After you have done this a few times, the vapors in the middle levels should be thick enough so that nobeast without a protective mask will be able to trouble you. Try to save at least half your supply until you reach the bottom cellars, otherwise the gas might not disperse evenly enough to do the job we require.
"Assuming this can be done according to plan, your next challenge will be to comb the interior until every one of those twenty hares is accounted for. They must be securely bound, and preferably all gathered together in one place so that they can be easily guarded. This must be done before any of them have a chance to revive from the gas. If even one of these creatures remains at large, it could cause untold trouble, perhaps even free its comrades so that they could retake the mountain. There will probably be anywhere from one to three hares stationed at each entrance. These will be overcome right away, and can be bound and secured before the main force enters Salamandastron. This will remove between three and nine hares from the action. If we are very, very lucky, the rest will all be asleep in their beds, but that would be too much to hope for. You must be prepared to meet resistance at any given moment, and for those hares to scatter all throughout the mountain at the first hint of trouble. That will be no problem, as long as they are all kept inside while the Flitchaye gas has a chance to do its work. But until they are all knocked out, they will do whatever they can to hinder you. You must be ready to respond to the unexpected. My brother has left Salamandastron on a war footing. Those hares will be battle ready. If it comes to a fight, your safety must come before theirs. Take the mountain peacefully if you can, by force only if you must, and withdraw immediately if things go awry and you see no hope of success."
Urthblood placed a massive paw on Saybrook's shoulder. "If any creatures among my forces can succeed at this, you can. Go now, Captain, and fortune be with you."
"Thank you, sir," Saybrook saluted. "Um, one more thing before we push off, tho'." He turned to Winokur, who'd stood somewhat apart with his father listening to Urthblood's final briefing of his otter assault team. The young Redwaller was the only otter there not wearing a sleep oil backpack; even Warnokur had donned one, fully intending to join in the expeditionary force.
"What do you say, Wink lad? Comin' or not? No time left t' sit on yer rudder decidin' - gotta make yer choice now."
"Yeah, I guess I do." Winokur stared out to sea, its surface dimming in the evening's waning light. He wasn't sure whether the prospect of swimming those vast waters on a dark night unsettled him more or less than the idea of doing so in daylight. On the one paw, the mantle of blackness would help hide the daunting scope of the ocean's endlessness; not having that infinity of water staring him in the face might put him more at ease. Then again, he would be out in it whether he could see it or not - buffeted and pulled by its mighty currents, the sandy bottom farther below him than in any pond or river he'd ever swum, open prey for any of the mountain-sized ocean beasts he'd heard about in songs and tales. Of course, he would be part of a caravan - comforting, if he didn't lose sight of them in those dark waters, and find himself lost and alone far offshore with no idea how to rejoin his fellow otters. Winokur was no coward, but his courage had never been tested by anything nearly so immense and uncaring as the sea. None of the others seemed to share his trepidation; they stood at attention, waiting patiently for Saybrook's command to dive in and be on their watery way. Even his father seemed eager to be off, but then, Warnokur was a born adventurer.
Winokur shook himself. There were other matters to consider here as well, more important than one otter's inner fears.
"If I go, it won't be as a fighter, or to have any part in capturing Salamandastron," the young otter declared resolutely. "I'm here as a peacemaker, mediator and envoy of Redwall Abbey. I don't wish to go if I'll only get in the way."
"True 'nuff." Saybrook looked back to Urthblood. "What do you hafta say, M'Lord?"
The badger locked gazes with Winokur. "I would say that those hares will, if all goes well, begin waking from the effects of the Flitchaye gas long before the rest of this army can possibly reach Salamandastron on foot. It strikes me that they might want to have somebeast around who's not part of the force that just conquered them, for they will surely consider Saybrook's brigade as conquerers and invaders. A Redwaller on the scene might be to the benefit of everybeast concerned."
Winokur toyed with his lower lip. "Yes, there is that ... "
"Son," said Warnokur, "you came all this way with us, an' now's yer chance to do what y' came here for. Don't worry 'bout gettin' in our way, Wink - when we move, you won't be able t' keep up!"
"I for one would encourage you to go," Urthblood told Winokur. "But the final decision must of course be yours."
The Redwall otter pursed his lips in thought for a moment, then gave an emphatic nod. "My Lord, since you used two of the sleep gas jars on the searat vessel, I assume you've got an empty one of these waterproof backpacks to spare. Could I have one please?"
"By all means. Go see Captain Mattoon about that. His platoon has the empty packs."
Saybrook looked confused. "But, I thought you weren't gonna help carry any of the sleep oil, or take part in our assault?"
"It's not for that," Wink smiled. "Be right back. Don't leave without me!" He sprinted up the dunes toward the weasel squad, returning a short time later with the empty waterproof pack. Setting it down on the sand, he began stripping out of his habit.
"What're you doin', Wink?" Warnokur asked his son, every bit as mystified as Saybrook was.
"Can't very well swim in robes, can I?" Winokur replied, carefully rolling up the habit and sticking it into the backpack. "But I'll want to have this with me when we get to Salamandastron. It's my badge of who I am as a Redwaller, and I think the hares will regard me differently if I'm wearing it. My mediator's uniform, if you like." He sealed the waterproof flaps of the pack and shouldered himself into the harness. "Ready to go when you are!"
Saybrook clapped Winokur on the back. "Glad t' have you with us, lad! Now to the business at paw." He addressed his otter ranks. "Okay, which o' you's got any experience in ocean swimmin'?"
Five flippers went up, along with Saybrook's own.
"Right, then. Tulia, Estok, Galva, you three will form a line along the seaward side of the brigade while we swim north. Viroqua and Rosbor, you'll join me in a line along the landward side. All the otters without sea experience will swim in between our two lines, so nobeast strays or gets lost. We'll keep to a medium speed, and follow a pattern of three body strokes, then up for air. Yes, I know we can all hold our breaths fer much longer'n that. But we hafta stay within sight o' each other. As you prob'ly noticed, clouds are buildin' in. We're gonna have a moonless, starless night, so visibility's gonna be next to zero down below the surface. Don't want us gettin' to Salamandastron in dribs an' drabs, washin' ashore like floatsam 'n' jetsam from some pirate wreck. Gotta stick together like a proper crew o' seadogs. Now, it's gonna be hard makin' each other out on so dark a night, an' it'll be mighty temptin' to shoot ahead, so I'm issuin' orders on this. Three strokes, then up, an' don't go under again until you've sighted the lines to yer left an' to yer right. Then three more an' up again, all th' way to Salamandastron. Are we all clear on this?"
"Aye aye!" A hearty chorus of assent went up from the otter ranks. Winokur's concerns about getting lost at sea were now much allayed.
Saybrook nodded in satisfaction. "Awright then. The dark might make the swim together a little tougher, but it'll be a big help when we get where we're goin'. Lord Urthblood says the biggest danger we face is that some o' the Long Patrol might be out an' about on the mountain, or on the beach around it. We gotta watch out we don't blunder into any of 'em who're lyin' in wait. But, with only a score stationed there to protect all of Salamandastron, chances are they won't spread themselves out like they might if they had their full numbers there. More'n likely they'll all be up inside, guardin' their boltholes an' lookin' out fer trouble from up an' down the coastland, not from th' sea, not at night. That's what to hope fer, mateys - that we'll be able t' walk up to the place right under their noses, an' they won't suspect we're there 'til they wake up with a Flitchaye hangover!"
After more cheers and cries, they were ready to depart. The first otters into the gently rolling breakers were the trio Saybrook had named to hold the seaward flank. They quickly swam out past the point where the waves began to break, stopping when their heads were quite small against the twilit swells. There they waited, treading water to hold their position while the main body of the force swam out to join them. Winokur observed that only about half the squad bore the standard otter javelins, and fewer than that carried short knives and daggers; many seemed to be totally unarmed. It appeared they were putting all their stock in the Flitchaye gas, because this brigade certainly wasn't outfitted for a head-on battle with the Long Patrol.
Winokur, Warnokur and Saybrook were two of the last to leave the shore. Swallowing a little nervously, Winkokur asked, "You sure we won't get lost out there, Captain? It's growing pretty dark for swimming."
"Don't worry. You'll be with all th' rest, between two lines of otters who've got sea swimmin' under their belts. We'll make sure we stay together, an' stay on course. Mebbe the glow jellies will be out tonight. That'd be some help to you landlubbers. Late summer, so the time's right for 'em."
"Glow jellies?" Warnour regarded Saybrook quizically in the fading light. "What're they?"
"You'll see, if they're about. Now shove off, mateys. Ye're holdin' us up!"
Winokur and Warnokur stumbled into the shallows, gentle waves lapping and flowing around their legs. "Jellies, huh?" the otter dad mused. "Hope they come in flavors. A spot of raspberry or strawberry might make this whole thing worth it. Well ... bottoms up!" Aiming himself toward the area offshore where twoscore otter heads and shoulders bobbed in the calm water, he dove headfirst into the surf and swam off. Winokur closed his eyes and followed in his father's wake. Saybrook and the final two otters were right behind them.
Back on shore, Halpryn and Klystra lifted into the cloud-thickening sky and winged northward, the kite carrying the folded tarp clutched in her talons.