Two definite paths twisted and curved away through the tall treetrunks, one to the left, the other to the right.
"Maybe Grumm's gone down one, but which one?" Rose's voice sounded small in the huge silent forest.
"Neither, I 'ope. They both look pretty fearful. Maybe I best stay
'ere and wait in case Grumm shows up. You two can explore the paths.
I'd only get in the way."
Rose could see that the hedgehog was afraid. She patted his prickles carefully. "Good idea, Pallum. Come on, Martin."
They ventured a short way along the path that ran to the right. It wound and curved but seemed safe enough. Martin shook his head.
"Let's try the left path."
Creeping stealthily forward, they explored the left path. It seemed more tangled and overgrown than the other and oppressively hot.
Again Martin halted. He made a gesture towards his ear, indicating that Rose should listen. The mousemaid heard it right away. It was a thick, heavy humming, like nothing she had ever heard. Straining her ears, she caught a low, frightened whimper.
"That's Grumm!"
"Aye, and it's coming from round that bend. You stay here, Rose."
Martin drew his small sword.
"I'm coming with you. I couldn't stay here, Martin." Rose caught on to his paw.
"All right, but stay behind me and try not to make any noise."
They inched forward carefully. The humming grew heavier until it seemed to be part of the very air they breathed. There was an overpoweringly sweet smell everywhere. Martin brushed aside a wild dogrose and they rounded the bend.
It was a very strange scene that met their eyes.
Bees! There were literally millions of the insects. They swarmed on shrubs, bushes, trees and all over the ground. A fallen elm blocked the path completely, and gigantic hives stood everywhere along it old hives, new hives, half built hives and old broken ones. Honeycomb could be seen exposed in parts, thick, golden and wax seamed. Amber nectar dripped to the ground and onto the heavy fungus that grew around the fallen tree. With his back almost touching the trunk sat Grumm, the small ladle held against his nose so that he could breathe.
Rose stared wide eyed. It was hard to distinguish Grumm from the bees that swarmed on him. They were all over his furry body, from footpaws to eartips, covering him completely and buzzing dangerously.
Grumm had his eyes tight shut. Every once in while he would make a small frightened sound around the ladle that protected his nostrils.
"Sit still, Grumm," Rose said in a husky whisper. "Don't cry, there's a good mole. Martin and I are here now."
"Hurrmm, Miz Roser." Grumm's voice sounded muffled as he talked around the ladle. "They'm trapped oi daown yurr. Ooch! They stingen oi, not all at oncet, moind, just when they feels loik 'avin' some fun with oi. Ooch!"
Rose kept her voice low. "I'm sorry you're being stung, Grumm, but sit still and we'll have you out of there soon."
Martin spoke out of the side of his mouth. "Rose, they've got us trapped now. There's as many behind us as there are in front, and they're blocking our way out. Ow! I've been stung on the footpaw and they're beginning to swarm on me. You can't fight bees with a sword.
Owch!"
Rose looked at Martin then down at herself. "That's strange, not a single bee has landed on me. Look!" She held her paw forth. Not a single insect tried to land on it.
Martin blinked in surprise. "How d'you do it... ? Owch!"
Realization dawned on Rose suddenly. "Martin, Grumm, don't speak, don't say a single word. I've noticed that every time you speak you get stung. Now, the bees aren't stinging me, so it must be because they like the sound of my voice. I've got an idea. Listen, I'm going to start singing. If they like my voice when I speak, they're sure to like it if I sing gently. As soon as you feel that it's safe, then take my paws and we'll walk out of here, or at least give it a try. Well, here goes. Let me sing a bit first."
Martin and Grumm remained still, like two statues covered by masses of slowly moving bees. Rose began her song.
"You will find me at Noonvale on the side of a hill When the summer is peaceful and high,
There where streamlets meander the valley is still,
'Neath the blue of a calm cloudless sky ..."
Right away Martin noticed a difference in the behavior of the bees.
The buzzing diminished to a low background hum and the insects that were crawling over him ceased their activities.
"It's working," he whispered urgently to Rose. "Keep singing. I'm going to take your paw. Grumm, can you hear me? Reach out for Rose's paw when she sings."
Rose continued, her voice like warm breeze on a soft night.
"Look for me at dawning when the earth is asleep.
Till each dewdrop is kissed by the day,
'Neath the rowan and alder a vigil I'll keep, Every moment that you are away ..."
Rose stretched her paws forth. Feeling Martin and Grumm take them, she turned and began walking back down the path with a slow, measured pace. Martin and Grumm trod carefully alongside the mousemaid. She continued singing, and as they went the bees began dropping off and buzzing lazily back to their hives.
"The old earth gently turns as the seasons change slowly.
All the flowers and leaves born to wane.
Hear my song o'er the lea, like the wind soft and lowly.
Oh, please come back to Noonvale again."
Pallum was waiting anxiously at the entrance to the path. At the sight of his friends returning he did a small dance of joy, coupled with anxiety at the lumps and bumps raised by the bee stings.
"Haha! There you are, thank the seasons! Oh, look at you, Grumm, all covered in swellin's. What happened?"
The mole smiled at his worried friend. "Bo urr, that be anuther story, Pallum. Move asoide so us'ns can set daown an' rest us'ns' weary bodies, hurr?"
The three travellers slumped against a spreading sycamore. Martin shook his head in amazement, burying his short sword point down in the loam. "Thank you, Rose. That was marvellous. Who needs a sword to defend us? That's the second time you've won a victory with your voice first as a sea eagle, then as a singer. You know, the strange thing is that I hardly noticed the bees. All I could hear was your song. I could have listened to it for ever!"
Pallum made poultices of dockleaves, nightshade and mud. "Sit still now while I put these on your stings to cool them. Best thing in the world for stings. How's that?"
"Ooh, you don't know how good that feels," Martin sighed gratefully as the fire died from the stings under Pallum's ministrations. "All we need now is another song from Rose."
Grumm spat away a bee sting that he had nipped out with his teeth.
"Ho yurss, Miz Roser be the noicest songer in all Noonvale. 'Er daddy an' oi watched many a time whoil she singen 'ee burds outen 'ee trees."
Rose was all a fluster. She jumped up and shouldered her pack. "It was only an old Noonvale song. Every young creature there can sing it as well as me. Come on you two, or are you going to sit there all morning?"
The mousemaid set off down the path at a lively pace, with Martin and Grumm bringing up the rear as Pallum pulled stings from them.
"That's it, right there in the middle of my back. Ooh, that's better.
Get that one on the side of Grumm's neck."
"Oochooch! Go easy, zurr 'edgepig. You'm wurser than 'ee liddle peskers as put yon stingers thurr!"
They made good progress that day, though the woodland grew high and gloomy as they traversed it. It was noontide, yet the sun could hardly be glimpsed through the high interwoven foliage canopy. Dim green light filtering down gave the path an eerie quality of unreality.
Halting by a little brook, the four friends made a late lunch of applescones washed down with the cold sparkling water. When they had finished, Grumm and Pallum sat dabbling their footpaws in the brook, grunting and making small noises of happiness as the babbling water gurgled over their paws. Martin and Rose sat behind them, nudging each other and stifling silent giggles as they watched the pair enjoy their paddle.