“That’s no snake, Gonff,” Martin interrupted. “It’s the same as Bella’s winding road, but this one is blue—it’s a river. What puzzles me is the teeth of land eating the wool of sheep line.”

Bella stretched and yawned. “Whoo! I think we must be going stale sitting around this dusty old room. Sheep and land, wool and teeth . . . Ah well, maybe we can’t see the wood for the trees, but whatever it is, you’ll know it when you see it. What do you want to do? Sit here half a season solving riddles, or follow the clues you already have and work the rest out as you go along? The supplies are packed and ready, you have your weapons, wits and youth to help you along—what more do you want?”

Gonff supplied the answer. “A good matey to walk by your side through thick and thin.”

“You’ns baint leaven this yurr mole behoind.”

Martin and Gonff laughed heartily, Bella bowed apologetically to the mole.

“Forgive me, Dinny. I did not know you wished to go questing.”

The young mole heaved himself up onto his hind paws. “Burr, you try ’n’ stop oi, Miz Bell. Tho’ oi do ’ate to take leave of yon armchurr.”

The Corim plan was beautifully simple.

A party of woodlanders would set out with haversacks of provisions from a point near to Kotir, and Chibb was to be given the rations one sack at a time. That way he could make short journeys to the cell window, passing the food in to Gingivere. Abbess Germaine had reasoned it all out: the woodlanders were helping by carrying the food, Chibb would not be overtaxed by making many long flights and Gingivere would secretly share the rations with Ferdy and Coggs. Later, there would be time to mount a rescue operation, but it needed a great deal of careful planning between the Corim leaders.

In the hour before dawn the two parties sat eating an early breakfast provided by Ben and Goody Stickle: hot scones, fresh from the oven, with butter and damson preserve and mugs of cold creamy milk.

“Mmmff, lookit those otters and squirrels packin’ it away. You’d think they was a-goin’ away nigh on three seasons,” Ben Stickle mumbled through a mouthful of hot scone.

Goody topped up his beaker with milk. “Listen to the leaf a-callin’ the grass green. You’re worse’n any of ’em, Ben Stickle. Just you mind those two liddle ’ogs of mine don’t go ’ungry. See they gets their rations.”

Skipper tucked a spare scone in his sling pouch. “Don’t fret your head, marm. They’ll both take on a cargo of vittles afore evenin’ bell.”

Lady Amber raised her tail and waved it. “Righto. Form up, woodlanders carrying provisions in the center, squirrels and otters forming guard on flanks and scouting ahead. Martin, your party can walk with us part of the way.”

The sun was not yet up as they left Brockhall through the still slumbering forest. Both parties stole silently into the trees, waving goodbye to Bella, Abbess Germaine and Goody Stickle, who stood on the sward outside Brockhall.