“Nobody knows how it came here,” Starbuck said, stroking it fondly. “Sometimes Boar lifts it up to the window at night and lights a fire in its mouth to frighten off the sea rats.”

Boar exerted his great strength and picked up the stone head. “Yes, I put it about here, facing out to sea.”

He rested the head on the window sill, then went strangely quiet. Boar the Fighter stared hard to seaward. The rest joined him at the window to see what it was.

Halfway between the skyline and the shore, a ship was sailing in toward land. It was a large black galley with double oarbanks and twin square-rigged sails. At the tip of the prow was the bleached skull and fin of some large seafish, standing out like a figurehead.

Boar whispered a single chilling word.

“Bloodwake!”

He was oblivious of all about him, remaining with his gaze riveted on the craft in the water.

Martin turned to Lupin. “Is that Ripfang’s ship?” he asked.

She nodded distractedly, pulling at Boar’s heavy paw. “Come away, Boar, please. Can’t you see he’s taunting you again?”

The silver badger shook her off and dashed through to the echo cave.

Even though they shielded their ears, they could hear Boar in the other room, roaring out like thunder at the vessel, “Ahoy, Bloodwake. Ripfang, are you there? This is Boar the Fighter. Why don’t you show your rotten hide near my mountain again? How about tonight? I’ll be waiting, seascum!”

As they watched, a red flag embellished with a scourge was hauled to the foremast peak. It dipped up and down twice.

Buffheart’s teeth ground angrily together. “He’ll be here, make no mistake about that.”

Boar strode heavily in from the echo cave, stretching himself up until his head brushed the ceiling. He gave a huge sigh of satisfaction then recited aloud,

The second night of summer,
The second visit since spring,
The rat from the seas
Meets the Lord of the rock,
To settle everything.

Martin saw the wild light of battle in Boar’s eye. “Then you’re going to fight Ripfang tonight?” he surmised.

Boar departed from the cave, calling as he went, “No, I’m going to kill him!”

They pursued him down the stairs to the forge hall. Taking a rough file, the badger began putting a slashing edge to his war sword.

The happy time was at an end.

Martin picked up his own sword. “We’re coming with you, Boar.”

The badger shook his head. “No. This is not your fight. This one was written long ago on the wall behind my father. It must be.”

Martin was obdurate. “Say what you like, Boar. When night falls, I’ll be there at your side.”

“Aye, and I.”

“Me too.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“And me, matey.”

“Boi ’okey, an’ oi too.”

“Count me in, old chap.”

“Rather, what ho!”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, what?”

Boar put the file aside. “So be it. Come if you feel you must, and thank you, my friends. But you, Buffheart, and you, Lupin—you must remain here with your young ones. The fires must be kept burning, you understand?”