The mousebabe, Dwopple, picked up his bowl and began toddling off. Deesum chided her charge brusquely. “Dwopple, come back here. Where are you taking that soup?”

Dwopple nodded to a rock-strewn knoll along the streambank. “Diss soop not gudd for baybees. Gunna give ’im to the fosskers.”

Elachim stared at Dwopple quizzically. “Fosskers?”

Deesum translated. “He means foxes.”

Florian was immediately on the alert. “Foxes, what foxes? Where?”

Another pair of Marlfoxes, identical to the two who had accosted Janglur, rose up from amid the rocks where they had lain watching the Companions since dawn. Their names were Gelltor and Predak, brother and sister. Seeing they had been spotted, the pair approached the camp boldly, their drab cloaks flapping slightly in the light morning breeze. Borrakul cautioned his friends, keeping an eye on the strange pair.

“Careful, mates, they’re carryin’ axes under those cloaks!”

Florian stood up. “Steady in the ranks, chaps, leave this t’me. I’ll do the talkin’. See those strange markin’s? I reckon I heard about these creatures, but I never thought I’d ave the bad luck to see ’em for myself. Marlfoxes they’re called—bad beasts!”

The foxes stopped a few paces short of the group. Florian walked cautiously out and greeted them. “Good day, friends. Beautiful summer mornin’, wot?”

Gelltor, the male fox, nodded slightly before speaking. “Who are you and where do you go?”

Florian bowed eloquently, sweeping off his hat with a flourish. “As you can see by our, ahem, cart, we are the Wandering Noonvale Companions, a purely theatrical group of talented creatures.”

Predak, the female, moved closer to the fire. “What’s in the pot?”

Deesum dipped a short curtsy. “It’s a sort of soupy broth. You’re welcome to join us.”

Predak leaned over the pot and sniffed. She wrinkled her muzzle disgustedly. “Slops!”

Borrakul picked up a large pebble and tossed it from paw to paw. “Nobeast’s forcin’ ye to eat it an’ you weren’t asked to insult it either. Good manners don’t cost much, fox.”

Predak’s paw edged toward her cloak. “Mayhap I’ll teach you a few manners, riverdog!”

Florian was quickly between them. “Tush an’ pish, what’s all this?”

Predak drew her paw away from the ax beneath her cloak. “You’ve told us who you are, but you never said where you were goin’.”

The hare waved a paw airily. “Oh, thither an’ yon, y’know, thither an’ yon. A travelin’ show like ours doesn’t actually go anywhere, we roam as the mood takes us. But you, friend, will you tell us your names, and where you are bound on this summer’s day, wot?”

The Marlfox’s pale eyes stared insolently at the hare. “What we are called is not your concern, and where we go is nobeast’s business.”