THE CRIMSON BADGER - Chapter Sixty
The sinking sun kissed the ocean horizon as Urthblood halted his army near the south foot of Salamandastron. Last evening at this hour, he had not even briefed his otters on their mission. Now, the mountain was successfully captured, the Long Patrol force was safely subdued, and he stood on the threshold of setting foot inside the home where he had not dwelt for twenty seasons.
Captain Klystra had flown down to rendezvous with his master during the morning leg of the march, while Salamandastron still stood as a dim and distant flat-topped cone upon the north horizon. The falcon was able to report the success of Saybrook's mission, which the Badger Lord greeted with a matter-of-fact nod, as if Urthblood had expected nothing else. Having delivered his news, Klystra flew north again to rejoin Halpryn and the otters in the defense of the fortress.
Urthblood pushed his troops hard that day, their march made all the more difficult by the shifting, sandy soil beneath their paws. Walking became somewhat easier the farther north they got, since there it had rained harder during the night and the damp sand was more compacted and less yielding to their footsteps. Still, it was draining progress, and at the pace Urthblood set, the soldiers' leg muscles were complaining by the time they came to stand at the base of Salamandastron.
With the otters away on their lead assault mission, Urthblood had placed the mouse squad of Captain Abellon at the head of the column. This assured that the pace was not too punishing for the smaller beasts with their shorter legs. Only the shrews were noticeably smaller than the mice, and their more energetic nature made up for their shorter strides. Still, it was one tired army that ended their march that evening.
Urthblood turned and called above the heads of the mouse brigade for Captain Mattoon to join him. Jogging around Abellon's troops to reach his badger master, the weasel commander skidded to a halt in the sand and snapped off a quick half-salute to Urthblood.
"I would ask that you all remain here while I enter Salamandastron first," Urthblood told Abellon and Mattoon. "This is my return to my ancestral home for the first time in so long, I feel it is only proper that I enter alone. I will send word when I want you to follow."
"Ah," Mattoon nodded. "Sorta a symbolic homecomin', right?"
"Yes. It would be more symbolic still if I could march in through the main entrance facing the sea, but Captain Saybrook says it is so solidly cemented shut that it may take a season to open it up again. So, I will follow the route that the main assault force took last night when they captured the mountain. The entrance is up there," Urthblood pointed, "not quite halfway up the south face. That might as well be the way for the rest of you to come in as well, since it is lower than the north tunnel mouth."
"Yes, sir," said Abellon, "but that's still a pretty fair height. The moles won't be too happy about making that climb. I can't quite see that opening from down here, but I'm guessing it gets easier to see once we start climbing, right?"
"It is somewhat hidden," Urthblood nodded. "I will have one of the birds or some of the otters stand outside to show you the way. But I want to inspect the inside of Salamandastron myself before it becomes crowded with troops. It will be a very special time for me, and I would prefer not to have distractions."
"We understand," Abellon and Mattoon said almost as one.
Urthblood started up the slope before them. "Put the troops at rest, Captains. I'm sure they will want to get off their feet. Take your evening meal break where you are. I'll send word when you are to enter the mountain."
"Uh, how long d' you suppose that'll be, M'Lord?" asked Mattoon.
"Not until after dark," Urthblood called over his shoulder. "In the meantime, light no fires. We are on the open coast now, and searats can see far across the water."
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Urthblood's tour of the mountain's interior lasted well into the evening.
He visited every part of Salamandastron, from the lowest cellars and storerooms to the roof plateau, from which he surveyed the twilit coastlands all around him. He'd declined both Saybrook's and Winokur's offers to accompany him on his rounds, preferring to amble the passages in solitude. The otters had had a day to explore the layout of the fortress and acquaint themselves with it, but Urthblood had spent many seasons of his youth here, and it was obvious as he navigated the innumerable twisting tunnels that this confusing multilevel maze was like an old friend to him. Never once did the otters of the advance force see him make one misstep or display the slightest hint of uncertainty. Lord Urthblood had come home.
The only passage he studiously avoided was the one that passed the room where the score of Long Patrol were being held. He wasn't ready to meet with them just yet.
The odor and eye-stinging essence of the Flitchaye gas lingered, despite the otters' best efforts to air out the mountain. Halpryn and Klystra had spent most of the day flapping the tarp up and down over the roof stairs entrance to help along the natural updraft that flowed through Salamandastron. Saybrook's squad had gone around the perimeter tunnels on all levels, taking down any drapes or coverings over the outer windows in order to improve ventilation. Even so, it would probably take another night and day for the atmosphere with Salamandastron to clear.
At last Urthblood instructed Kylstra to fly down to the waiting army and inform them they could enter the mountain.
It was full dark by this time, but none of the soldierbeasts had gone to sleep after their evening meal, knowing the call to move might come at any time. Abellon and Mattoon took charge, lining up the troops into a proper column with the help of the other captains. A small group of otters emerged to stand outside the tunnel mouth with torches and lanterns, as a guide for the climbers. Fortunately it was a cloudless night, with a strongly glowing three-quarter moon and a sky full of stars making their ascent far less treacherous than it would have been on the previous night.
Half a thousand armed troops was more than Salamandastron had housed in many generations. Urthblood began setting duty assignments even as the Northlanders were still streaming in. The mole corps was sent down to occupy the lowest cellar levels, along with Tillamook's hedgehogs. Bremo's shrews and Saybrook's otters were given domain over the kitchens, although for now most of the burly otters remained on guard in the passages around the hares' detention chamber. The rat platoon of Captain Cermak was encamped on the plateau, where they would hold the roof of the moutain along with the two birds of prey. The other rat brigade, of Captain Lorsch, joined Abellon's mouse batallion in the now-empty Long Patrol quarters, and also patrolled the forge room level. Lastly, Mattoon's weasels, Perrett's ferrets, and Bandon's stoats were stationed in the main dining hall and the chambers and passages immediately around it.
By the time all the squads were in place, any hare who did manage to escape would have been very hard pressed indeed to find even a single tunnel that was free of Urthblood's forces. Not that Saybrook's otters were about to let any of the Long Patrol escape from their holding cell.
Fourteen cannisters of the Flitchaye oil remained intact. Urthblood had them placed down in the main armory, along with all the weapons they'd removed from the sleeping hares. Then the heavy armory door was triple bolted and locked, and placed under heavy guard. Urthblood's own troops carried all the arms and ammunition they needed, and he wanted to make sure the hares would have no access to their weapons - or the sleep gas. The havoc they could create if they were to get their paws on the remaining supply might be enough to let them recapture Salamandastron, or at least part of it.
Finally, the badger warrior deemed all was as prepared as he could make it. Although the hour was quite late, he ordered the shrews and otters to come up with the most extravagant dinner they could prepare from the larders on short notice, and sent for some appropriate wine or spirits from the cellars where the hedgehogs presided. Then he went up to see his hares.
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With the door to their room being kept open, the hares of the Long Patrol were well aware when Urthblood's army entered Salamandastron. If the Badger Lord had made himself scarce around his prisoners, his soldiers had no such misgivings. And so it was that Clewiston and his comrades were treated to an almost nonstop parade of rats and mice filing along the corridor past them: first Cermak's squad winding its way up to the plateau, then Lorsch's rats and Abellon's mice on their way to the hares' dormitory levels.
"Egads, but there sure are a lot o' them blighters!" Melanie remarked. "Don't suppose they're just marchin' th' same ones past us over 'n' over, t' make us think there's more of 'em than there really are?"
"Wouldn't put such tactics past His Bloodiness," said Clewiston. "But in this case, I don't reckon so, Mel. Remember, Traveller told us Urthblood brought a whoppin' big horde down from the Northlands with him. I'll wager the whole kit 'n' caboodle's here at Salamandastron right now."
"Yah," Peppertail scowled. "That lot o' vermin an' nastybeasts, traipsin' through our home easy as y' please an' stinkin' it all t' Hellsgates, while we're stuck in here, stewin' in our own juices! Where's th' bally justice, I ask?"
"Did you see those rats?" Mizagelle shuddered. "Walkin' nightmares, wot? Never thought I'd see such frightful critters roamin' our hallowed halls."
"Rats I expected," said her sister Givadon. "It's those mouse fellers wot give me the shivers. Regular little demon mice, they looked like. I thought they were all s'posed t' be meek 'n' peaceful folk, mice were."
"Mebbe they was just little pygmy rats?" Mizagelle speculated.
Givadon scoffed. "Sis, can'tcha tell th' bally difference 'tween mice an' rats?"
"Well, I was just s'posin', Givvy!"
There came the sound of more beasts coming along the passage; the hares momentarily fell silent to take in the latest part of this parade.
The otter captain Saybrook ducked into the room and quickly stepped aside. The hulking figure in red armor that strode smoothly in after him needed no introduction. Several of the hares actually slid back fearfully on the floor as Urthblood came to stand over them like a bully child presiding over toys stolen from an infant.
The badger surveyed the twenty hares in silence for some moments, scrutinizing them as if he were peering into their souls. So overpowering was his presence that none of the Patrols even contemplated breaking the silence.
Saybrook moved up alongside Urthblood and pointed to Gallatin. "This one's their chief, M'Lord."
Urthblood studied Gallatin impassively. "I doubt that," he rumbled, fastening his gaze upon the older hare next to the one Saybrook had indicated. "Clewiston. I remember you. You had just made Captain when I left Salamandastron. Your rank must be considerably higher by now. Tell me, what is it?"
Some implacable undercurrent in the badger's conversational tone compelled Clewiston to speak truthfully. "Colonel."
Urthblood nodded. "And my brother is not one to bestow the rank of General to anybeast in his service. I assume, then, this would make you the supreme commander of all the Long Patrols?"
"Yes ... yes, it would."
"Very good. Then we have much to discuss." Urthblood produced a dagger from somewhere within his armor, stooped down and deftly sliced the rope free from Clewiston's footpaws. "Please turn around, Colonel."
Clewiston, too taken off guard by this turn of events to protest or resist, obeyed. Urthblood gave another slice, and Clewiston's forepaws came free from behind his back. Clewiston spun himself on the floor until he again faced the badger.
Urthblood gave the knife to Saybrook, then took Clewiston by the paw and helped the hare to his feet. "My apologies, Colonel, for this treatment. But I have heard things of late to suggest that I might not be welcome at Salamandastron these days ... things which lead me to believe I perhaps should have returned here long before now."
Clewiston regarded Urthblood, at a loss. This was not how he'd envisioned the first contact between the captured Long Patrol and their conquerer. "Wot is it you want from us?" he asked bluntly.
"What does any Lord of the Mountain want from the hares of the Long Patrol?" Urthblood motioned for Clewiston to accompany him out of the chamber. "I've had a late dinner prepared for us, Colonel. If you will please join me down in the main hall, we can talk things over. I regret that, for the moment, your companions will not be able to share your freedom. Until you and I have a chance to discover exactly how matters stand between us, I am afraid they will have to remain as they are now. Not particularly dignified, but perhaps you and I can change that."
Clewiston stepped over to the doorway, then paused and looked back at the other nineteen hares. "Just tell me," he asked of Urthblood, "is this going to be the last time I see them?"
"The fact that you are even asking such a question demonstrates why I am needed here ... and why it is so essential that we talk. Trust me, Colonel, you will be rejoining your companions as soon as the two of us finish our discussion. Whether they will be free is up to you."
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Most of the weasels, stoats and ferrets were cleared out of the dining hall for Urthblood's dinner with Colonel Clewiston. Just enough remained seated around the side tables to remind the hare commander who was in charge of Salamandastron now.
Urthblood took the big chair at the head of the long main table - naturally so, since it was the only one large enough to accommodate a badger of his size. If the Colonel, who was seated at Urthblood's right paw, harbored any great distress at the mountain's new master claiming the chair that had previously been Urthfist's own, Clewiston did not indulge himself more than a disapproving glance or two. He saved most such dour looks for some of his fellow diners with whom he shared the table.
Most of Urthblood's captains had been invited to join them. Winokur, Warnokur and Saybrook sat to the badger's left, followed by Mattoon, Perrett and Bandon. To Clewiston's right were Abellon, Bremo and Tillamook. Only the Foremole and the two rat captains were absent, attending to other duties. His position had Clewiston facing the three vermin, and he was clearly unenthused by their presence.
The shrew cooks had managed to throw together an oversized vegetable pie, chock full of steaming carrots, potatoes and mushrooms in a thick, hearty gravy. Spicy hot apple bread was served on the side, and a pitcher of beetroot wine stood amidst it all, big enough to fill every beaker and goblet at the table.
"So tell me, Colonel," Urthblood began, sipping at some wine but touching none of the food, "why does my brother fortify my own home against me?"
Clewiston had shown no interest in either the food or the drink. "I'd say that nasty stunt you pulled last night with those otters is answer enough, wot?"
"That was just a precaution, and one that should not have been necessary in the first place. I am the rightful Lord of Salamandastron. For the past score of seasons I have been too busy elsewhere to reside here. I had always assumed that I was leaving the Lordship of the mountain in capable paws, that I could ask for no caretaker better than Urthfist to stand as steward in my absence. Now I am returned, only to find that the hares of the Long Patrol are turned against me and that my own brother would make war with me. How has this come to pass?"
Clewiston gave a barking laugh of ridicule. "Ha! You actually have to ask?"
"I am asking. The answer seems obvious to you, but I do not see it. Please indulge me, and explain this ... for my benefit."
The Colonel erected his ears and straightened his whiskers, attempting to look more formal, as a proper officer should. "The answer's upstairs, carved into the rock wall, right where you left it twenty seasons ago. If you haven't got a clue, stroll on up there an' read it fer yourself. That'll make it all pretty clear fer you."
Urthblood actually looked surprised. "My prophecy?"
"Why, of bally course your prophecy!" Clewiston slapped the tabletop. "Wot, you thought it was some secret? That Lord Urthfist wouldn't go an' read it himself? Well, read it he did, right after you went runnin' off like a madbeast. Nearly broke his everlovin' heart, readin' wot you were destined for, wot bally trouble you were gonna cause th' lands. He cared fer you, sir, he really did. We all did. Hardest thing we ever had t' do, acceptin' that you were lost to us, given over to a fate of evil. T'was hardest of all for Lord Urthfist, comin' to terms with th' fact that his own brother was now the enemy of all decent creatures. But, in the end, we did wot had to be done. Wasn't easy, but doin' the right thing very often isn't."
"This is what my brother told you my prophecy says?"
"Well, isn't it?" Clewiston challenged.
"No, it is not. Colonel, have you ever read it yourself?"
"Oh, that's a corker! You know full well it's writ in that bloomin' Badger Script o' yers that nobeast else can make heads or tails outta. But I don't hafta read it. Lord Urthfist told me wot it says, an' his word's good 'nuff for me!"
Urthblood's eyes lost their focus. "Reading my prophecy did nearly drive me insane, so great was its doom. But I recovered, pulled myself back from the brink of madness. It would seem my brother was not so lucky. He was not strong enough to bear the burden of destiny these times have placed upon us. I had feared he might have developed a lust for power, a desire to keep the throne of Salamandastron to himself for his own sake. But the truth is much worse than that, I see now. The prophecy has made him mad."
Clewiston half rose from his chair. "Don't you talk about Lord Urthfist like that, you bloody murderer! If either of you is insane, it's you!"
Urthblood held up a paw. "Sit down, Colonel. Calm yourself."
Glaring at the badger, Clewiston lowered himself fully back into his seat.
"I tell you now, Colonel, my brother is wrong. About me, and about my prophecy. Assume for the moment that I am correct in this. Can you not see that he has had twenty seasons to make his madness seem like reason to you? Of course you will see me as evil, if he has been telling you so every day for these past five years, and there has been nobeast here to say otherwise."
"But there was," Clewiston said. "You remembered me just fine, so you must recall old Traveller as well."
Urthblood nodded. "Not so old when I knew him - fastest hare in the Patrols. I've had reports of him up in the Northlands down through the seasons, but every time I sent scouts out to fetch him, he shied away like he was eluding an enemy. That always puzzled me. Now I know why he acted as he did."
"Lord Urthfist sent Traveller out to keep track of you, shortly after you left Salamandastron," said Clewiston. "We heard enuff from him over the seasons about wot you've been up to. So it hasn't just been one badger's say-so that's made us see you as our enemy. Traveller's seen your evil deeds himself, an' told us all about them. So you can knock off this innocent act you're puttin' on, 'cos that tripe gets stuck in my gullet, frankly."
Urthblood leaned forward. "Name some of these ... evil deeds, if you would be so kind, since I am not aware of them myself."
"Well, we could start with that tribe o' shrews you massacred ... "
"They were slavers," Urthblood said curtly.
"Yah ... an' I s'pose their babes 'n' ladyfolk you slaughtered were thieves an' plunderers too, wot?"
"I was overcome with the Bloodwrath. No badger can control itself in such a state. I have since trained myself not to succumb to such mindless rages. Can the same be said for my brother?"
"Lord Urthfist never murdered infants," Clewiston shot back. "An' I genuinely hope he hasn't forgotten how t' rouse the Bloodwrath in him, if he ever meets up with some o' these beasts y' got workin' for you." He pointedly eyed the three vermin sitting across from him.
"So far you have dwelt upon one mistake, which is common knowledge among my followers in the Northlands, and which I would undo if I could. What are some of my other supposed atrocities?"
"Wot about all them decent beasts you killed in your various campaigns? Accordin' to Traveller, that happened so many times, I won't even try t' name specific instances."
"My campaigns have all been against slavers and other evildoers," Urthblood said. "Or has Traveller neglected to mention that minor detail? The Northlands are a harsh place, and can only be tamed by harsh methods. Perhaps a beast who has never been there cannot fully appreciate this. If any goodbeasts were caught in the middle of these battles, they were not placed there by me."
"But they end up just as dead, wot? An' then there's your habit of marchin' into settlements an' takin' 'em over, without givin' th' creatures who dwell there any say in the bally matter."
"That does not happen. I have never forced any creature to live under my rule who does not want to. I merely offer goodbeasts a choice between the hard life they have always known, and the opportunity for something better. Most accept what I offer. But I do not impose my will upon anybeast. Traveller might have seen that for himself, if he'd bothered going to Noonvale."
Clewiston's upright ears waggled at that name. "Why, I'm mighty surprised you brought that up before I did. Yes, let's do talk about Noonvale. Most peace-lovin' bunch o' folks you'd ever wanna meet, an' now you've got 'em all blocked in an' livin' under a blinkin' state o' siege!"
For the second time Urthblood's face showed surprise. He turned away from Clewiston to look at Saybrook. "Do I have Noonvale under siege, Captain?"
The otter regarded Clewiston with set jaw. "No, Lord, you do not. We went there askin' their alliance, an' they refused us. So we withdrew an' left 'em to themselves. They're not under siege."
Urthblood nodded and turned back to Clewiston. "So there you - "
But Saybrook wasn't finished. Interrupting his badger master, which ordinarily would never occur to him, he went on, "I'm one o' th' Broadstream otters who've protected Noonvale's southern borders fer more generations than anybeast c'n remember. An' I resent you sayin' we ain't been square with those folks. Whadda you know about such things, hare? This Traveller bucko o' yers is just plain wrong, an' you offend me by repeatin' such accusations in me presence!"
Warnokur laid a paw on Saybrook's shoulder. "Steady on, Cap'n. Don't wanna get so hot we can't speak reasonable ... "
Even as Warnokur sought to soothe his commander, the shrew captain Bremo indignantly picked up on Saybrook's protest.
"He's right! This hare don't know what he's goin' on about! Got it all wrong 'bout Noonvale, an' sounds t' me like 'ee's got just about everything else wrong, too! I say 'ee should shut 'is gob 'til he learns how ta tell th' difference 'tween truth an' lies!"
Clewiston said to Urthblood, "If you rolled me out here jus' so yer troops could have a jolly yell at me, I'd rather you tied me up again an' put me back with my hares."
"That would achieve nothing." Urthblood held up a paw to quiet his captains. "Bremo, Saybrook, enough. We will not gain anything here with heated words."
Shrew and otter shut up.
Urthblood turned back to Clewiston. "Perhaps this is after all just some huge misunderstanding, and I am wrong about Urthfist. I would certainly like to think so. If he has so completely misinterpreted my endeavors in the north, then it is possible he has done the same with my prophecy. Would that he were here to explain himself."
"But he's not, is he?" the hare accused. "He went runnin' off to Redwall on some bally goosechase, thanks to that lyin' spy o' yours. Just another devious an' cowardly deed to add to th' jolly list, wot?"
Winokur looked to Urthblood. "Yes, My Lord, I heard these hares talking about this earlier. Do you know about this Browder fellow?"
"I used Browder to save lives," the badger stated simply, "and I will make no apologies for employing such tactics. I would have come to Salamandastron no matter what, and it appears my brother had these hares prepared to defend this mountain to the death. Against me, the rightful ruler here. Would you have really done so, Colonel?"
"To the last hare," Clewiston said defiantly.
"Then my use of Browder is clearly justified, even to you. I cannot believe you would have preferred to be slain in battle rather than alive and well, as you are now."
"Alive and well ... and your prisoners."
"A situation you seem unwilling to change, Colonel. It is within your power to do so. The choice is yours."
"Wot, if we sell our bally souls to you?"
"I am not the devil."
Clewiston gave Urthblood's crimson armor a once over. "Coulda jolly well fooled me."
"You are overlooking one thing, Colonel. I am the legitimate ruler of Salamandastron. The hares of the Long Patrol are sworn to serve the Lords of the Mountain, for the protection of the coastlands and the lands beyond. This is the way it has always been. Are you going to be the first to break that compact? I can sit on the throne here, but I alone cannot safeguard all the coast, as is my duty, without the Long Patrol. Would you turn your back on your duty? I am not asking you to do anything more - or less - than you did for my brother: to serve Salamandastron as the Long Patrol always have, according to tradition. I do not think I am asking too much."
"You want us ... to serve you?"
"Yes."
Clewiston pulled at his lower lip. "Well, you're smack right 'bout one thing. We are sworn to honor an' obey th' Lord o' this jolly old mountain. We got ourselves such a Lord, an' it ain't you. You gave up any right to rule here when you ran off twenty seasons ago. Our loyalty's with Lord Urthfist. If that doesn't suit you, maybe you should just go away."
"On the contrary, Colonel, I see that I should have returned to Salamandastron long before now, since it appears my brother has become totally unfit to rule here."
This comment persuaded Clewiston to touch his wine at last. The Colonel picked up his brimful goblet and cast its entire contents into Urthblood's face.
"How dare you!" Clewiston chastised. "Sendin' yer otters sneakin' in like thieves in th' night with that sleepy stuff, puttin' us t' sleep instead o' facin' us in an honest fight ... after you got that liar Browder to lure most of us away with th' vilest of falsehoods. Then you march in here, bringin' along all yer stinkin' vermin wot have no place bein' in this noble place t'all. I don't hafta know anything about yer blinkin' prophecy or wot you've been up to in the north ... I've seen enuff with my own eyes. You are the most cowardly and shameless beast I've ever known or heard tell of. And now you have the colossal gall to declare a truly honorable beast unfit! How dare you!"
Urthblood's voice held no rage as he responded, casually mopping the wine from his face with a napkin.
"And how dare you, Colonel, show such disrespect to the badger who now sits on the throne of Salamandastron. What do you know of my responsibilities, placed upon my shoulders by the forces of destiny twenty seasons ago? What do you know of the affairs of Badger Lords - our lore, our history, the secret longings and passions that stir within our hearts? What do you know of the future, Colonel? I have seen it. Not just once, when I added my accursed prophecy to the throne room wall, but many times since. I know more than anybeast alive of the doom soon to beset us. You were willing to kill me, and sacrifice yourselves, rather than let me inside Salamandastron. I took great pains not to harm you, not because it was easier for me, but because the goodbeasts of the lands will need every able defender they can get to meet the coming crisis. I alone have gazed upon the face of calamity; everything I do is geared to prepare the lands for upheaval such as they have never seen before. Who are you to say that what I am doing is wrong, or second-guess my motives? You, who have no idea of the enormity of the destiny that weighs upon my soul my every waking moment. Captain Bremo was right: you should not speak about what you don't know, Colonel."
Clewiston stood and took a step away from the table. "I know enough not to trust anybeast who'd ally itself with searats!"
A bemused non-smile came to Urthblood's face. "You think I am allied with Tratton?"
"Well, aren't you?"
"No. I am not. And if these are the kinds of things my brother would have you believe, then I will say again that he is unfit to rule Salamandastron, and dangerously so. I would like nothing better than to return to the Northlands, where much work still awaits me. But I will not leave this situation as it stands now. I must know that I can count upon Salamandastron for support in my efforts. And I will stay here until I can be sure of that."
"Yah," Clewiston grumbled, "I kinda figgered on that."
Urthblood waved a paw. "Captain Saybrook, please escort this hare back to the others."
The otter stood. "What if he gives us any problem about gettin' his paws bound again?"
"He can remain unbound."
"But ... then he'll be able to untie all the others!"
"He's free to do so. Shut the door to their room and lock it, and post guards outside. But I will not subject these creatures to the indignity of being bound any longer. It is enough that we have to keep them under lock and key at all."
He looked to Clewiston. "Think about what I said here, Colonel. My offer stands, and the course of events can take surprising turns."
"I'm not going to change my mind. Sir."
"Just think about it. Good night, Colonel."
Saybrook and two of Mattoon's weasels ushered Clewiston out of the dining hall. Winokur said to Urthblood, who was still wiping at his wine-dampened armor, "Well, My Lord, those hares certainly do seem dead-set against you. What do you make of all this?"
"I have more work to do here than I'd anticipated. Captain Abellon," Urthblood pointed at the plentiful remains of the vegetable pie, "have the rest of that taken up to the Long Patrol after Saybrook gets the Colonel settled in. They haven't eaten since they woke up, and I will not deprive them of food or drink. Make sure they are supplied with plenty of both. I will treat them decently, even if it kills them."