Lady Amber leaped up beside him. “Leave it to the squirrels, Skip. We’ll build your floodgates. You just see to it that they’re sunk properly into the banks.”

Foremole was not the greatest of leapers, but he clambered up on the table besides Amber and Skipper.

“Ho urr, an’ us moles’ll dig ’oles. We’ll tunnel for ’ee, boi ’okey, us will!”

Columbine thought the cheering and paw-thumping would never stop. All around her, woodlanders were dancing, hugging each other and whooping at the top of their lungs.

Bella had to pound the table for a long time until order was restored.

“Congratulations, Corim. I think it is a good plan,” she announced. “Best of all, it will save open warfare and loss of life. Now, does every creature present agree to the plan?”

There was a mass shout of approval. Every paw in the room shot up.

“Aye!” “Then we shall carry out this plan. We must, for I fear that Martin and his friends are long overdue on their return. Having said that, I do not wish any of you to feel downhearted, for who can calculate the journey to and from Salamandastron? We must hope and keep the faith in our friends’ promise to carry out their mission. Maybe one day not too far from now I will see my father, Boar the Fighter, come striding through Mossflower Woods—along with Martin, Young Dinny, and Gonff—to lead us to victory. Wherever the questers and my father are this day, let us wish them good fortune.”

A rousing cheer rang through Brockhall as Bella sat down and crossed paws with the Corim leaders.

Abbess Germaine had the final word at this meeting.

“Yes, friends, good fortune to those who traverse afar and good fortune to us all. I think the plan is a good one,” the frail old mouse told the assembly. “Even I and my brothers and Loamhedge, unused to fighting and war, can see that this will avoid unnecessary bloodshed on both sides, for friend and foe alike. A death is always a death. Bloodshed is an awful thing. What we are striving for is peace—keep this thought uppermost in your minds. If I had a wish, it would be that we lived in harmony with those at Kotir. But this cannot be. So let me say again, good fortune to the lovers of peace and right. Let liberty and freedom be the legacy that we leave to those who follow us in the seasons to come. May they find true peace in Mossflower.”

There was a reverent silence for what was, indeed, a heartfelt prayer.

* * *

The four travelers were hungry.

They had risen before dawn and were on their way through the low sand dunes where little else grew but tough sand grass. Belts were tightened after the previous night’s meager supper of a few roots which Dinny had managed to forage. The mole tried digging in the sand for edible material. He rubbed grit from his eyes with weary paws.