“The pool is heated from my forge,” Boar said, noticing their surprise. “You may bathe there later. You will observe that it is never cold here, again thanks to the forge. But please be seated. Here comes the food.”

The hares brought in new bread, fresh salad, baked fish, mint water and a selection of last autumn’s fruits crystallized in honey. After the frugal seashore meals, the four travelers ate like a regiment many times their number.

Boar watched them with something approaching amusement on his gigantic face.

Gonff gave him a friendly wink. “So, the flames of the forge carry up that rock flue and shoot out the top of Salamandastron, eh?”

Boar winked back at Gonff. “You are a very perceptive little fellow, Gonff the thief.”

“Prince of Mousethieves, matey,” Gonff corrected him.

“But how did you know he was a thief?” Martin interrupted.

Boar leaned his chin on muscular paws, bringing his eyes level with Martin. “I know many things, little mouse. Later I will show you how. Now, is that young Dinny, grandson of my childhood friend Dinny the mole?”

“Hurr, Zur Bowar, that oi be. You’m know moi granfer Owd Dinny?”

“Of course I do. Is the old rascal still going strong?”

“Ho urr, ’ee be fitter’n a flea an’ owder’n twenny ’ogs,” Dinny laughed.

“Good, I’m glad to hear it. And what about you, Log-a-Log?”

“Sir Boar, I am a boat builder, one-time leader of the Northwest Shrew Tribe.”

“Oh? Why one-time leader?”

“Because I’m all that’s left of my tribe in freedom,” Log-a-Log explained. “We were captured by sea rats. I was the only one to escape the galleys.”

Boar’s eyes hardened to a burning ferocity and the bones in his paws cracked audibly as he ground them together.

“Sea rats! Dirty, treacherous, murdering scum!”

Martin was shocked at the deep hatred in Boar’s voice, he listened intently as the badger continued.

“Not only do they burn and plunder among honest creatures, but they are savage to their own kind. Sinking each other’s ships, murdering their own companions for an extra pawful of loot.”

“Log-a-Log has told me of a sea rat called Ripfang of the Bloodwake,” Martin interrupted. “Do you know him?”

Boar pointed seaward. “That one, he’s out there now—my spies have been watching him all spring—sailing from north to south of here, waiting his chance to attack Salamandastron. Ripfang is the most evil of all sea rats. He has fought and sunk all others who sail in these waters, pressing their crews as slaves in his service. He is also the cleverest and most cunning of them all.”

“In what way is he clever and cunning?” Gonff asked, noting the concern on Boar’s face.

“Well, he has never feared Salamandastron, or the legends that surround this place. Ripfang is very daring, too. He has personally been here and knows that it is only myself and a few hares who keep the myth of the mountain alive. Others we can scare off, but not Ripfang. It is written that soon he will mount a major war against Salamandastron.”