Morning was high and bright by the time the travelers left Sollertree’s dwelling with their guide. Song had the feeling that though the hedgehog giant professed to be happy with his lonely existence, he would dearly have wished them to stay longer. In normal circumstances the squirrelmaid would have liked to, but there was much to be done and now was not the time to linger. With their packs refilled from Soll’s larder they trudged off, their big friend in the lead carrying the boat Swallow across his shoulders with ease. Dann figured that the path they were taking must once have been flooded by water, for thick fernbeds interspersed with clumps of marjoram, woundwort and hempnettle grew around the slender trunks of young rowan, elder and ash, which provided a veritable palisade on either side of the narrow path. Apart from the birdsong all around there appeared to be no signs of other creatures.

“Looks like we got the woodlands to ourselves, mates!” Dippler remarked airily.

Soll’s reply caused them to look to their weapons. “Not quite, me young dears, we’re bein’ watched. Now now, put not yore paws near blade or sling, ’tis nothin’ a beast o’ my girth cannot deal with! Follow me, look neither left nor right an’ be not afeared.”

“Oh yiss yiss, keep close t’the big feller, though I don’t see as ’ow he’ll defend us,” Burble whispered to Dippler as they hurried to keep up with Soll. “Yesterday ’e said that ’twas agin’ ’is nature t’be a warrior or harm any livin’ creature.”

Dippler kept close behind the hedgehog’s broad back. He had confidence in Soll. “Don’t you worry, Burb, mister Soll will take care of us.”

Song’s sharp eyes soon picked out the shapes flitting amid the screen of slim treetrunks. Whoever it was tracking them seemed well versed in stealth, using sunlight and shadow skillfully, slipping between ferns and bushes.

“Whatever kind of creature comes at us, I’m not afraid,” Dann murmured to her. “This time they won’t catch me nappin’, I’ll wager!”

The pretty squirrelmaid restrained Dann’s swordpaw gently. “I know you don’t fear them, Dann, but let’s do what Soll says, just follow and leave things to him. Look out, here they are!”

There were three of them, a stoat and two weasels. Their appearance was eerie and barbaric. Stripes of yellow clay and green plant dye swathed the trio from ears to footpaws, providing perfect camouflage for the type of woodland they hunted in. A mace and chain dangled from the stoat’s paw, while the weasels brandished fire-blackened cutlasses. They stood on the path ahead, boldly blocking the way.

Grinning wickedly, the stoat twirled his mace and chain. “Stay where y’are. This’s our forest. Who said youse could walk on our path? I never, did you, cullies?”

The weasels were enjoying themselves. They shook their heads.