Pikkle spread his paws, chuckling. “Ask Mara the gallopin’ badger there. She was in such a bally rush that she dashed off without a jolly crumb. Had to follow her, of course, so I didn’t wait to stock up with tucker. But here we are, hale an’ hungry!”

“You never brought anything?” Klitch looked concerned.

Mara waggled her paws in a carefree manner. “No, not a single scone. Still, I suppose we’ll find something.”

Goffa hefted his spear meaningly. “You mean you didn’t even bring a weapon between you?”

“No weapons, eh!” Klitch’s look of concern deepened.

Pikkle sat and drew doodles in the sand. “Who needs moldy ol’ weapons? I mean, I can’t see enemies to fight with round here. Wot, wot?”

The blue-eyed young weasel sat down beside him. “I wouldn’t take it so lightly if I were you, Pikkle. Alone out in this country and unarmed, you never know what might happen. Mara, haven’t you got anything that could be used as a bribe, something to buy your way with, perhaps a piece of badger treasure?”

“Badger treasure, what d’you mean, Klitch?” Mara was puzzled by the odd question.

The weasel shrugged as if it were not really important. “Oh, you know, gold or silver trinkets, medallions maybe, or jewels and such. I thought all badgers had some sort of treasure stowed away.”

Mara scratched her stripes thoughtfully. “Hmm, I can’t recall ever seeing treasure at Salamandastron. Can you, Pikkle?”

“Me? No, not a bloomin’ bauble, old gel!”

Klitch smiled shrewdly. “I’ll bet old Urthstripe has loads of it hidden away somewhere, but he wouldn’t tell you about it, Mara. Oh no, he’d be more at home ordering and shoving you about like a slave. I reckon that he thinks any treasure stowed away in the mountain is his and none of your business, because you’re too young to know about such things. But forgive me, you must be hungry. We’ll share our supplies with you. Let’s have an early lunch—your first one as a free creature, Mara, and you, Pikkle.”

They gratefully accepted the wheatcakes, cheese and apples from the packs that had been given to the weasel and the ferret.

Pikkle fell upon the food with his usual good appetite. “That’s what friends are for, wot! Jolly good chaps, these two. What d’you say, Mara m’ gel?”