Urthwyte looked puzzled. He began repeating the word over and over, fast at first but then slower: “Rollme, rollme, ro . . . llm . . . e, r . . . oll . . . me . . . Roll me!” Striding heavily over to the boulder, he stretched his powerful paws to its sides, grunting as he cautioned his friends, “Stand out of the way!”

Mara knew that Urthwyte was a badger of immense strength, but she doubted that even he could shift such a formidable chunk of rock. She was about to move forward and offer her help when Loambudd placed a restraining paw about her. “Watch him, Mara. He will do it.”

Planting his legs square like two tree trunks, Urthwyte threw his weight against the boulder. Cords of sinew stood out from his snowy hide as the muscles of the great white badger bulged, and his teeth ground together like millstones. Growling savagely as the blood rose to his eyes, Urthwyte grabbed the boulder and gouged deep at it with both paws. His whole body shook and trembled with the staggering effort. Riveting his whole being on the boulder, Urthwyte let out a whooshing roar and heaved.

Wide-eyed with awe, Oxeye grabbed Sapwood’s paw. “By the blazin’ thunder! He’s not rolled it . . . he’s lifted the thing!”

Urthwyte stamped a full three paces before letting the huge boulder drop. The thud shook the entire cavern. The boulder had rested in a hole. Holding the lantern between them, Mara and Samkim lay flat on the floor, gazing down at the treasure of the badger Lords of Salamandastron.

Pearls from the depths of the sea; silver cups and gold plates; and weapons, fabulous arms forged by the badger Lords of old—longswords, sabers, rapiers, strange curved swords, shields, spears, pikes, daggers and lances—made from the most precious woods and metals, lay in a glittering heap, cascading over the massive sets of ancient badger armor, studded with stones that shone and twinkled, scarlet, ultramarine, turquoise, amber and obsidian jet. Their lights reflected in Mara’s eyes as her mind went back to the day when Klitch tried to wheedle information out of her in the dunes.

“So there is a badger Lords’ treasure after all!”

*   *   *

Urthstripe was lowered down in his full ceremonial battle armor to lie there as he had wished, an eternal guardian.

41

“Ho, the good ol’ Abbey. Anybeast ’ome? Redwaaaaaallll!”

Mrs. Faith Spinney jumped up and down like a fat little jack-in-the-box on the north ramparts, peering across the battlements each time a leap carried her that high.

“Stickle my ol’ spikes, it’s Mister Thrugg! Bless ’im, it’s Mister Thrugg!”

Thrugann leaned on the parapet, shaking her head. “Oh, it’s that harum-scarum brother o’ mine. I could tell that if he were two country leagues away. Ahoy there, trouble. What took you so long, an’ who are all those hungry-lookin’ birds?”