However, they were also very nearly cut off from the wood by a rapid and efficient counterattack led by Brome, and they retreated, as they had arrived, in disarray. Near-disasters are, however, usually labelled complete victories by cunning leaders and this one was no exception. It was true that the henchmoles lost three of their number, but once back in the Westside with no sign of pursuit by the Pasture moles, they celebrated the ‘victory’ as if they had conquered the whole of the Pasture system in two hours’ work, recalling the deeds of their lost colleagues with relish.
Rune learned many things from this attack, the most immediately applicable being his need to appoint a tough deputy he could rely on to keep the henchmoles in control when he was not around. He gave the task to the trusty Westsider Burrhead, knowing that his loyalty was sound and that he did not have sufficient wit to attempt to lead a coup against him.
He also decided he must quickly and ruthlessly inculcate group efficiency into the henchmoles—which he set about doing immediately, knowing there would be little time to lose before he heard from the Pasture moles.
The repercussions of this attack in the pastures, in the Marsh End and, finally, in Duncton Wood itself, were many and complex. Perhaps the most significant was Brome’s decision to take reprisals against Duncton—a move more or less forced upon him by the anger of the Pasture moles at the savagery of Rune’s attack. Brome was, in fact, reluctant to counterattack, since what little he had seen of the stocky Duncton moles suggested that they were individually far more powerful as fighters than Pasture moles, even though they were not always as big. There was an evil viciousness about the moles of Duncton, whose fur was generally so dark and whose bodies smelt of the dank wood. And who fought with cold ruthlessness.
For this reason, rather than enter into Duncton Wood, his method was to lure them on to the pastures one evening with a deliberately weak attack and spurious retreat by the wood’s edge, where he felt he could outmanoeuvre them. But he was wrong.
Rune had ruthlessly and efficiently disciplined his henchmoles, and they followed the fleeing Pasture moles so fast that they had killed most of them before they had advanced sufficiently to fall into the trap Brome had prepared. Suspecting it, Rune cunningly stopped his forces from advancing directly, circling instead through the unknown Pasture tunnels in the belief that they might outflank the Pasture moles in their own system. At the same time, Rune left sufficient henchmoles to guard the wood’s edge, with various small but very fast runners to keep the two groups in touch with each other.
Rune finally led his henchmoles into a vicious and bloody attack on Brome’s moles, coming at speed from an unexpected direction and moving forward with a solid resolution that took the Pasture moles by surprise.
Brome’s reaction was wise, and unimpressive, but saved the day. He retreated on all sides, using his popularity with the Pasture moles to persuade them to follow his advice and retire quickly so that the Duncton moles would have nomole to fight. The move was so effective that the impetus of the Duncton henchmoles was lost as they found burrow after burrow empty, and tunnel after tunnel echoing only with the sound of their own slowing paws and the groans of badly injured Pasture moles left behind in the flight.
At the same time, Brome sent two of his most trusted moles northeast towards the distant Marsh End to seek out Rebecca and with her help try to win the support of Mekkins. It was a long shot, but Brome saw clearly that a temporary retreat might indirectly win victory while a permanent retreat meant defeat. He would soon have to attack again, and the more friends he had, the better.
Rune’s cunning as leader improved every moment, and with his now customary speed of action he withdrew all the henchmoles back to the Westside, much against their wishes.
‘Have I not led you to victory so far?’ he asked the doubters coldly. ‘Trust me to do so now. This trick will bring the Pasture moles back.’
For two days there was an uneasy silence as the normally clear, sparse tunnels of the pastures, now deserted, began to reek of the stench of the dead, whose decay was hastened by the onset of summery June weather. During the day, birdsong filled the wood, skylarks hung in the air above the high pastures, and the fresh green of the leaves of Duncton Wood glistened and danced with sunshine before the warm June breeze.
But underground, moles on both sides were tense and anxious as each waited for the other to make a move.
Brome advanced his moles back to their original positions, at first puzzled by the Duncton moles’ disappearance, then seeing its logic. Rune must have guessed that after the successful killing of so many Pasture moles, their remaining forces would not want actually to enter the wood itself.
