Brocktree was walking beside Dotti as the Scottish hare led the group to the court of Bucko Bigbones. He gave her murmured instructions. "Don't speak until I tell you- when we get to where we're going, miss. Don't get flustered or indignant, just act calm and look as if you're capable of taking care of yourself."

The haremaid felt slightly nervous, and started babbling. "Yessah, take care o' meself, act calm, you can bet your bally stripes I will, most carefullest calmest blinkin' hare ever twiddled an ear, sah, that's me, wot! An' as for gettin' flustered or indignant, by the left, sah, there's not a beast alive can muster flea, er, fluster me, an' I can be rather undignant when called upon. Why, I recall when Grandpa got stuck in the chimney-"

Brocktree's paw cuffed her ear lightly. "Stop babbling, miss. Listen!"

A profusion of noises from afar could be heard on the still woodland air. Loud cheering, drumbeats, singing, shouting, and many other unidentified discordant sounds. The hare leader, taking care to keep clear of Brocktree, remarked with jaunty cynicism, "Och, brace yerselves, mah babes, yer aboot tae enter the court o' King Bucko Bigbones, the roarin' beast hisself!"

Dotti had never seen anything in her life like the court of King Bucko, nor had any of her traveling companions. It was situated in a broad, beautiful, woodland glade, backed by a steep rocky hill, with a stream bordering one side, fringed with crack willow, guilder rose, and osier. But any resemblance to a peaceful sylvan setting ended there. It was packed to bursting with teeming life. Lord Brocktree's party wandered about, relatively unnoticed. There were all types of ponies there, as well as woodland creatures like mice and voles, but hares formed the main presence. Hares, big, strong, young and bold. Fleetscut nodded at them.

"Well, stap me ears, we've got a right bunch o' corkers here," he said. "There's a lot o' mountain hares- one can tell by the remains of their white winter patches, wot. As for the rest, there's a few gypsies, but a chap can recognize the offspring of Salamandastron hares. D'y'know, I can pick out the ears an' faces of most- look just like their mothers an' fathers they do. Dearie me, it makes me feel jolly old, I can tell ye. Some o' these great lumps o' fur 'n' bone, I bounced 'em on me knee when they were tiny leverets!"

Puddinghead giggled at the thought it conjured up. "Hee-hee, you'd break your knee if you tried bouncin' any of those big boys now!"

"I don't like this noisy, dirty place," Princess Platinum whined. "It's an affront to the eyes and ears."

Steps made from logs led up to the fork of an old cheery laurel, padded and draped with hanging velvet to form the royal throne.

"Presentin' his royal Highness, King Bucko Bigbones!" the Scottish hare called.

Everybeast looked around. "I don't see him," said Celestia. "Where is he?"

The hare was irritated. "Ah'm King Bucko Bigbones. D'ye no bow yer heids or bend a knee tae a king?"

Brocktree realized that the creature the hare had announced so grandly was himself. "We bow to no creature, even self-appointed kings," he said. "Do you not find it common courtesy to rise in the presence of a Badger Lord, instead of sitting draped up there like a drunken beast?"

King Bucko laughed. "Jings, but yer a big 'un, an' saucy too. By the rocks! That's a braw battle blade ye bear. Ah'll trade ye for et, anythin' ye like!"

Brocktree raised a paw to touch the double hilted weapon. "My sword wouldn't do you any good, and it's not for sale or trade. You and another like you couldn't lift it."

King Bucko bounded down the steps, paws outstretched. He gripped the badger's paw and applied pressure. "Och, I like ye well, mah friend. D'ye mean tae challenge me?"

Brocktree stood smiling easily, allowing Bucko to squeeze his paw to the maximum. Then the Badger Lord squeezed back. White faced and trembling, the hare was thrown to his knees. He managed a pained smile. "Jings, ah hope ye don't challenge me. Would ye not let mah paw free afore ye flatten et completely?"

The badger released his paw. Bucko stood up, massaging it and smiling ruefully.

"Don't worry, I won't be challenging you," Brocktree assured him. "But one of my party will. I'll let you know who when the time's right."

Bucko winked. "Weel, ah've got another challenge tae answer shortly. Gang ye along an' watch- twill be a bit o' sport tae entertain ye."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A log circled ring had been cleared further down the streambank. Dotti stood between Celestia and Luna to view the combat. Creatures packed the circle's edge, fifty deep, while others climbed trees or took to the rocks. An enormous hedgehog stood to one side of the ring, a gang of his followers stroking his spikes and massaging his hefty gnarled paws. He kept shrugging his shoulders and sniffing a lot. King Bucko entered the ring to deafening applause. Throwing off his cloak, he joined both paws over his head and shook them at his followers in salute.

There was a line scratched at the ring's center. Bucko steeped up to it, flexing both knees and rolling his head about to limber up. The big hedgehog stepped up, threw a few punches in midair and snuffled. A zebra stepped into the ring and announced in rhyme,

"Good creatures all, attend what I say.

A challenge has been given your king this day,

By some hedgehog who nobeast likes,

With the name of Picklepaw Ironspikes.

Let me remind you of the rules.

Neither contestant can use weapons or tools.

And when one of them falls down,

The one left standing picks up the crown."

Silence continued as Bucko gave his crown to the zebra, who marched ten paces over the ground and held it high. She dropped the crown, and as it hit the ground the fight started. Dotti could not hear herself think for the noise.

"Give him the old one two, Your Majesty!"

"I'll give ten candied chestnuts to one on 'Is Majesty!"

"Watch out for his jolly old left, sire!"

The hedgehog, Picklepaw Ironspikes, was throwing massive barnstorming sweeps with his paws. As yet the hare had not offered a single blow. He stood firm, merely bobbing and bending backward, avoiding each haymaker as it whooshed by overhead or either side of him. Bucko was smiling, Ironspikes almost purple with anger and exertion. Dotti could not help whispering, "What's King Bucko doing? Why doesn't he try to hit the hog?"

Smart Cookie kept both eyes on the fighters, assessing them. "The king's a great scrapper, he's wearin' the hedgepig down. Looky now, miz Dotti, he's got ole Ironspikes!"

The haremaid could not see how Bucko had the hedgehog beaten. Suddenly Ironspikes dropped one of his paws and straightened up, just for a split second, but that was enough. Bucko crouched and swung a massive sideways left as he came up. Bump! It connected with Ironspikes's jaw, his eyes rolled and he fell like a stone, spark out!

Dotti had to shout to make herself heard over the cheering. "Oh corks, what a fighter, what a punch! I'll bet nobeast could beat King Bucko, wot?"

King Bucko picked up the crown and replaced it on his head. He leapt over the logs, right where Dotti was standing, and winked roguishly at the haremaid.

"Och, 'twas a piece o' cake, lassie. Yon hog was naught but a great fat brawler. A hey, you're a pretty wee thing, ain't ye!"

Dotti did not want to appear over impressed by Bucko, so she stiffened both ears and looked distant. "Actually, pretty's the wrong word, sah. I'm a fatal beauty, really. Runs in the family, y'know."

Bucko smiled as he chucked her under the chin. "Och, away with ye, missie, ah've seen fatal beauties an' yer no one o' those. Still, like ah say, yer a pretty wee thing."

He swept by her and was carried off on the shoulders of his jubilant supporters. Luna noticed Dotti's quivering lip and angry features, and put a hoof about her shoulders. "What's wrong with your face, friend?"

The haremaid shrugged off Luna's hoof. "Nothing. There's absolutely nothing wrong with my face. But I'll jolly well tell you something, Luna. I don't like that can Bucko King, or whatever he calls himself. I'd like to take the blighter down a peg or three, wot!"

Luna stared at her in surprise. "A hare maiden like you… d'you think you could beat him?"

The noise was audible as her teeth ground together. "I don't think, I know I can beat the blusterin' bounder!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

King Bucko was in high good humor that night. He sat on his treefork throne, swilling dandelion beer and laughing uproariously with his comrades as he relieved the fight with Ironspikes.

"Och, the fat auld fraud wiz swingin' both paws like a windmill an' puffin' like a northeast gale, d'ye ken. So ah just ducked an' came up wi' mah guid auld left cross. Whacko! Did ye see the big braw pincushion topple, ha-ha-ha!"

"Aye, y'pick the easy marks, don't you, Bucko?"

The laughter ceased. All eyes turned on Dotti, who was standing, paws akimbo, on the bottom log step. "I'm here to take up your challenge!"

The king waved his scepter dismissively at her. "Ach, awa' wi' ye, lassie, ye should be at home, helpin' yore mama tae do the washin'," he said with sexism. "Learn tae cook and stay clear of real warriors, before ye become fatally injured, with no chance of ever becoming a fatal beauty." Sycophant hares around the throne guffawed loudly.

Dotti bounded up the steps and shook out the barkscroll. She thrust it under the king's nose. "It says here that you'll fight mother, father, daughter, or son. That's what it says. Right?"

The king's former good humor was fast deserting him. "Ach! Ah'm nae goin' tae fight wi' no wee haremaid. Whit d'ye think I am, a bully?"

Dotti marched off down the steps, her nose in the air. "Since you ask, sah, I'll tell you what I think you are. You're no king, just a liar an' a coward!"

In the horrified silence that followed, King Bucko came bounding down the steps after her, paws clenched tight. "Yerrah! Ye whey faced whelp, we'll settle this right here an' noo. Ah'll no have a lassie cheekin' me!"

He scratched a line in the ground with his scepter and tossed it aside. Placing his footpaw on the line, he snarled, "Get yer fuitpaw on this mark here an' spit like this!" He put up his paws in fighting stance and spat over the other side of the line.

Dotti gave him a frozen glare. "Didn't your mater ever tell you 'tis rank bad manners to spit? Disgusting habit, sah, but quite in keeping with your form, wot."

Lord Brocktree appeared, pointing his sword at Bucko. "No quick paw-the-mark scraps here, Bigbones. Let's do it properly at the designated time. Now, do you accept this hare's challenge, answer yes or no?"

The mountain hare's expression was murderous as he grated out his reply. "Aye, stripedawg, ah accept the challenge. Ye'll be hearin' from mah seconds afore midnight!"

Brocktree tipped a paw to his stripes courteously. "Thank you, I'll look forward to it. I bid you good night."

Commander Hurricane was upset when she learned what had happened. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! I was the one who should have challenged him, not you! He'll eat you alive!"

"Well, like old Brockers said, a hare should challenge a hare," Dotti replied. "Besides, you ain't the one he bloomin' well insulted. The honor of the Duckfontein Dillworthys was at stake- I had to challenge the rotter. Not a fatal beauty, eh? I'll show him!"

Brocktree patted her back gently. "Calm down now, miss. Temper's the sign of a loser- it affects the reason too much. We've got to start your education, and there's not a lot of time to do it in. That's always provided you want to win, eh?"

Dotti managed a smile. "Oh, I want to win all right, sah!"