"The first place I stopped at was a camp on the southeast cliffs.
There were many creatures there. A hare and a badger seemed to be in charge, Ballaw and Rowanoak."
"I have not heard of these creatures," Martin interrupted.
Boldred held up a talon. "Let me continue, it will soon become clear. I spoke to them of Brome, and they assured me that he was alive and well. When I told them of you there were many there who knew the name of Martin. One, an old squirrel named Barkjon, sends you a message." Martin leaped up, unable to constrain himself. "Barkjon, old Barkjon! He's Felldoh's father. What did he tell you, Boldred?"
"He told me that his son has gone alone to face Bad rang. Every able bodied creature in the camp was armed, and they are planning to go to Felldoh's rescue that is, if he still lives. Either way they will attack the fortress called Marshank, where the evil one rules with his horde of vermin."
Martin's eyes shone with the desire to be in the midst of battle.
"The creatures in this camp on the cliffs, are they a great army?"
"Alas, no." Boldred shook her head. "I have seen the comings and goings at Marshank before. Badrang's horde is far too vast to be opposed. The creatures at the camp are brave, but pitifully few compared to the horde."
"I must go now!" Martin jumped down from the sycamore trunk.
Boldred nodded. "The old squirrel Barkjon is a shrewd beast, he said that you would act thus, and here is his message to you. Tell Martin if he is coming to travel with all speed and bring plenty of help!"
Aryah looked at Boldred anxiously. "Did you see my son Brome?
Did you speak to him?"
Boldred spread her wings wide. "There was no time, I had many things to do. The hare Ballaw assured me that Brome was lively as a grasshopper and fit as a flea. The badger Rowanoak confirmed this.
She seemed like a wise and sensible creature. Badgers usually are."
Aryah climbed down from the sycamore and took Martin's paw.
"Bring my son back to me, please, Martin. I beg you!"
Rose leaped down to join Martin and her mother. "We will Mama, don't worry."
"Rose, how can you go?" Urran Voh gazed sternly at his daughter.
"Is it not enough that we have Brome caught up in a war far from home!"
Rose faced her father resolutely. "I must go. Martin and I are the only ones who would stand a chance of bringing Brome back to Noonvale."
"Hurr, you'm not leavin' us'ns yurr, mizzy!" Pallum and Grumm joined paws with Martin and Rose.
Another little paw sneaked in to clasp theirs. "Hurr, say 'ee wurd an' Bungo's with you'm!"
Grumm ruffled the dark velvety head of the infant. "Gurr, you'm gotter stay yurr an' chop up'ee gurt tree. Oi wants f see et chopped oop small when us'ns coom back."
Martin looked at Urran Voh, who nodded. Then he raised his voice so that all could hear. "Is anybeast with us? You heard Boldred, we need plenty of help!"
The otter quartette, several moles and a few hedgehogs stood forward. Martin counted, sixteen in all including his three friends.
"I am sorry, Martin," Urran Voh said, his tone more kindly, "but we are not warriors, my creatures do not have any knowledge of battle.
Many have families to care for. Those who have volunteered to go with you are few, but brave. None of them have ever used a weapon, yet they are prepared to go and help you with their very lives."
Martin bowed to his small army. "I thank you with all my heart."
Boldred tut tutted slightly and shook her head. "I've always said that the trouble with young creatures is they never listen properly, especially hot headed warriors. Did you not hear me tell Aryah that I never stopped to search for Brome because I had things to do?"
"Things, what things?" Martin looked nonplussed at the owl.
"Things that only a wise owl would think of, like getting an army together for you. But let's deal with first things first. We've got to find the shortest route to Marshank and get you there as quickly as possible. Now I don't wish to preen myself on this matter, but I am the foremost pathfinder, mapmaker and researcher of this whole country, from beyond here to the Eastern Sea. Find me a clear space, somebeast!"
The moles patted a bare patch of soil flat as Rose went off with Aryah and Urran Voh to gather provisions for the journey.
Boldred crooked a claw at Martin. "Come here, Warrior, and pay attention!"
Martin sat and watched, fascinated as the owl's skilful talons marked out the route.
"This is the Broadstream here. You came the long way round to Noonvale, probably because you were washed up down the far south coast. Marshank is further north, facing the Eastern Sea. There is a much simpler way back to the coast. I know this, and so does Starwort. At this moment he will probably have just arrived at a wide tributary two hours' journey from here, to the north of Noonvale. So the sooner you get going, the quicker you'll be able to join him and get under way."
Martin stood upright. "What happens then, Boldred?" The owl blinked impatiently. "Leave that to me, I'm coming too!"
Rose and her parents had just finished putting together some food and drink in packs when Martin strode into the cottage. Rose took the small shrew sword from its peg behind the door and held it out to Martin.
"You gave this up freely, now I give it back to you." The Warrior thrust the sword into his belt. "I'm ready!"
"Fur and Freedoooooooommm!"
The cart rattled and bumped, leaping off the ground as it struck humps and clumps on the clifftop. It roared forward with Ballaw and Keyla holding to its jolting bed as they waved the streaming banner aloft. Rowanoak pounded along. Sinew and muscle bunching and stretching, she towed the careering cart. The Fur and Freedom Fighters pushed as they pelted madly alongside.
Brome could not stop himself. At the sight of Felldoh going down fighting amid a welter of horde vermin, he dashed forward down the cliffside, sobbing and calling his friend's name aloud, "Felldoh! Oh Felldoh, I'm coming!"
But Felldoh did not hear his young companion. He lay with a calm smile on his face, surrounded by a score of slain hordebeasts who had died trying to defeat him.
Badrang rushed back to the fort, away from the carnage and the broken javelins, the memory burned into his beaten skull of the roaring, laughing squirrel who had died with a shattered piece of timber in each paw, still taking ferrets, rats and weasels with him as he went.
As Marshank's gates slammed shut, the cart sped by Brome.
Scattering the last few venturesome horde members, it ground to a halt next to Felldoh's body.
Rowanoak leaped from the shafts as the first wave of arrows flew from the walltops. "Dig in, turn the cart on its side, get to cover quick!"
Ballaw assembled his throwers behind the cart. "Take your range, chaps, and drop those javelins in just over the walltop. You others, pick up any weapons you find lyin' about. That's the ticket! Slingers, get those stones from the cart. Look lively now, lads!"
Brome staggered up, tears streaming from him as he undid his healing bag and pulled out herbs and bandages. Barkjon sat with his son's head cradled in his lap, dry eyed.
"He won't be needing those, young one. Save them for the living.
My son has gone to the silent forest where he'll always be free."
Brome sat with Barkjon. The old squirrel wiped away the young mouse's tears. "It is good to grieve for a friend who has gone. He looks so happy and peaceful."
Brome shook his head. Placing a paw about Barkjon's shoulders, he said, "I've never seen anything like it; he was laughing aloud. It took a score and a half to get him down, and he still slew most of them. It was as if he knew his fate."
Barkjon nodded. "Never afraid, always a true warrior that was Felldoh's way."
The side of the cart was thick with quivering arrows. Ballaw barked out a sharp command: "Up an' at 'em, javelins!"
The line of throwers leapt up, flung their weapons off and dropped back down.
Immediately Ballaw called to the slingers, "Quick as y' like, one volley of stones. Go!"