Bargle looked up, surprised that Dippler did not know the truth. “’Tweren’t no vermin that killed Log a Log. He never made it as far as the battle, Dipp. The scum that murdered ’im was Fenno. We found that’n’s rapier buried in the Chief’s back!”

Despite his injury the young shrew’s teeth ground together hard. “Fenno, that big bully, where is ’e?”

Bargle accepted the beaker from Mayon and took a swig. “Nobeast knows. Fenno ran off like the slime that he is.”

Dippler drew his rapier and licked the blade as a true Guosim warrior does before making a solemn oath. “Then I’ll find Fenno someday, an’ when I do this blade’ll be wetted with somethin’ else. My name is Dippler an’ my word is as true as my sword!”

Gurrbowl Cellarmole came bustling down from the dormitories, shaking her head as she counted off bedspaces for the wounded on both paws. “You young ’uns, Dannflo’, Dippler an’ miz Songer, you’m all in marm Cregga’s room whoile she’m a-layin’ in ee gate’ouse. Though, dearie oi, oi doan’t know ’ow she’s goin’ to go on when she yurrs about poor Nutwing.”

Song’s mother took charge. “Right. Come on, you three, upstairs with you and rest those heads.”

*

Janglur took a stroll out to the orchard, where he seated himself beneath a pear tree, next to Rusvul. “So, me ole mate, you reckon yore son shamed the name Reguba?”

Rusvul stared straight ahead into the moonshadowed stillness. “Well, what d’you think?”

Reaching up, Janglur plucked a pear and rubbed it on his jerkin. “For wot ’tis worth, I think yore a great warrior, strong in paw an’ brave in war. We carved a few paths in our younger seasons, you’n’me; we’re still good pals an’ always will be. But let me say this t’you, Rusvul Reguba. I never knew you was a foolish beast until tonight. Our young ’uns are the hope o’ the future. They need t’be ’elped, not ’umiliated. It took no bravery to call Dann a coward—he loves you too much to answer back. So all you did was to bring shame on yoreself by the way you talked to Dann. No, don’t answer or argue, jus’ think about it, matey. An’ that’s the advice of a friend.” Without further comment Janglur Swifteye arose and walked off, leaving Rusvul to wrestle with the problems of his own stubbornness.

*

The three friends lay on Cregga Badgermum’s big sofa. All three felt terrible about Nutwing. Dann felt it most. It was clear his father’s onslaught had hurt him deeply. They sat awhile in silence, heads still throbbing, unable to sleep. Dann’s eyes wandered to the sword of Martin the Warrior hanging upon the wall, and suddenly he sat bolt upright.

“Yes! Now I remember!”