Taking up the call, the band at the bottom of the stairwell howled their own battle cries as they charged from their end.

*   *   *

The war was hopelessly lost for the once vaunted horde of Corpsemakers. Klitch killed the two vermin closest to him and fell flat on the stairs, pulling their bodies over his to act as concealment. The rocks echoed with the clangor of battle. Trapped and cut off on the long rambling flight of stairs, the last of the horde fought with desperation, but they were no match for the Guosssom, two badgers and the remaining hares of the Long Patrol. Mara felt herself swept along in the rush. Ahead of her she glimpsed Samkim, his face alight with the madness of battle as he fought his way through the tight-packed ranks of vermin, some of whom were standing dead, having no room to fall. At the center of the turmoil they met, the young squirrel and the badger maid. A sudden silence prevailed. The madness was over, Salamandastron stood free.

Creatures who a moment before had been yelling and slaying stood weary and quiet, as if shamed by the indignity of war. Bodies of friend and foe alike lay strewn on the rocky steps like leaves after an autumn gale.

The voice of young Pennybright echoed hollowly round the scene of carnage: “Oxeye, sir, I want to go out into the sunlight. I don’t want to be here!”

Oxeye stroked her ears gently as he gazed around. “Neither do any of us, young Pen. Come on, let’s all go out into the fresh air!”

As they climbed out of the opening, Loambudd grasped Mara’s paw.

“Ayaaaaaaah!”

The sound that tore from the old badger’s throat was like the cry of an animal being slain. She released Mara’s paw and went rushing out. The young badger maid was about to call after her when she, too, saw what had made Loambudd cry out. As fast as she could she ran after her.

*   *   *

Urthstripe the Strong lay with his paws still clutching Ferahgo the Assassin. Both were dead. On all fours beside the two bodies was Urthwyte, weeping like a baby, his paws bruised and cut from the wild rushing descent he had made from the mountaintop to be with his brother.

Loambudd unlocked the dead badger Lord’s paws from around Ferahgo. As she removed the golden medallion from the weasel’s neck, Sapwood and Oxeye approached her and bowed low.

“Can we be of help, Lady?”

She turned the Assassin’s carcass over with her footpaw. “Take this worthless thing and cast it into the sea. It does not deserve a resting place like any decent creature.”

Blinded by hot tears, Mara watched as Loambudd placed the medallion about Urthwyte’s snowy neck.

“This belonged to my father and to your father. It should have been worn by your brother Urthstripe. It now belongs to you, my grandson. Wear it proudly.”