“Right. It won’t take me long, Gingivere. Get some stout cords and be ready to bind the Abbess on my back. We don’t want her being swept off in the woods.”

Chibb decided to forego breakfast. “Er ahem. I’ll fly back and tell them you’re on the way.”

Sandingomm turned to Columbine. “We’d best leave breakfast. Pack some food to eat on the way. I’ll close up the farmhouse and we’ll go back together.”

Posy tugged Gingivere’s tail. “Did you hear that, Uncle? We’re going for a trip and taking a picnic with us.”

“Of course we are, Posy.” Gingivere smiled distractedly.

* * *

A short while later, the Abbess sat upon Bella’s back, securely roped together with her satchel of herbs.

Bella took a deep breath. “Good, I’ve stopped blowing like an old frog now. My legs are feeling steady. Hold tight, Germaine. Here we go!”

* * *

Goody Stickle tried hard not to let her concern show. She had done all she could, even following her instincts and allowing the delirious warrior to clutch his sword as he lay raving. Timballisto stood by her, gnawing worriedly at his claws. “He’s still trying to get past those gates into Dark Forest. Goody, what can we do?”

Wiping her paws on her old flowery apron, the hedgehog tried to look busy.

“Well, for a start you can stop hangin’ about an’ botherin’ me, Mr. T. B. You go and gather some firewood with my Ben.” She softened at the helpless look on Timballisto’s face. “My dear, you can’t do anythin’ for your friend, nor can I, really, until proper help arrives. You go and help our Gonff on lookout. Go on, I’ll call you if he wakes.”

When he had gone, Goody wrung out more cloths to place on Martin’s brow. He was feverish, shivering, sweating by turns, and constantly murmuring.

“Bring her head around,” he muttered. “Sail for the shore. I’ll rescue Boar from those sea rats. Give me my sword. Watch out for those seabirds and the crabs, Gonff. Leave the rest to me, matey.”

* * *

Midmorning brought a shout from Gonff. “It’s Bella! She’s got the Abbess with her. Hey, Bella, over here!”

The badger came thundering across the lakeshore. Stopping in a shower of earth, she parted the ropes with a slash of her big claws and a few snapping bites. The Abbess tumbled from the badger’s back. Pausing only to grab her satchel, she ran to Martin’s side.

“You did well, Goody Stickle, go and rest now,” she said comfortingly. But Bella was shocked by Martin’s appearance. “Abbess, he looks dreadful. Do you think he’ll live?” she asked, looking over Germaine’s shoulder.

Germaine was already ministering to Martin.

“Gonff, put some water to boil on the fire. Bella, open my satchel and give me some feverfew—yes, that one there. Now a touch of nightshade; not too much. Ben, can you gather some fresh dock leaves for me?”

As she tended the warrior mouse, the Abbess answered Bella. “Do not worry, old friend. This mouse will live, if I have anything to do with it, though it will take all my skills and a long, long time before he is completely out of danger. Columbine will be here soon. You go and rest; the race that you ran to save Martin’s life would have killed a lesser creature. You must get some sleep.”