So, thought Brock, this was the time he had been dreading ever since Warrigal had told him that the Elflord was involved. In fact it came as something of a relief in a way, that the moment had finally come. Nab was extremely excited at the prospect although he also felt little butterflies of fear fluttering in his stomach, not so much at the prospect of meeting the Elflord but at the thought of what might be revealed to him about his future. Ever since he could remember veiled references and allusions had been made about his part in the destiny of the animals and how he was the fulfilment of a legend. Now perhaps he would learn what they all meant.
Warrigal interrupted their thoughts.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘It’s time to go.’
Most of the animals had already arrived at the familiar semi-circle on the far side of the little stream, eager to learn the true story of what had happened two nights ago for fantastic tales had already begun to circulate about the rescue. The Council were all sitting in their places along the far side of the old fallen tree trunk although the vacant places at the end of the log where Bruin and Rufus usually sat made it painfully obvious that the events of that night had been fatal to two of the most respected members of the wood.
Everywhere was covered with a silver coating of ground frost which winked and sparkled in the moonlight and made the dead bracken on the ground hard and crunchy so that as Brock, Tara, Sam, Perryfoot and, last of all, Nab, walked into the meeting the sound of their footsteps made all eyes turn towards them and a sudden murmur of conversation rippled among the animals. Feeling very embarrassed, the animals sat down just to the left of the entrance in a space hurriedly vacated for them by some rabbits at a sign from Pictor. Warrigal had flown into the clearing over the top of the bushes and was perched on a silver birch branch to the right of the log. Wythen’s head turned slowly round until he saw his son and then he looked back at the semi-circle where all the woodland animals were now waiting expectantly for him to open the meeting.
‘Welcome to you all,’ he said, as he always did whenever he first addressed a meeting. ‘I have called this emergency Council together so that the wood may be informed of certain dramatic, and indeed tragic events which took place two nights ago. In the broadest terms they concern the capture and, as you can see, the successful rescue of Nab from the hands of the Urkku.’ He waited until the shuffling of the animals as they all turned to look at the boy had stopped and then he continued. ‘As you may also see, these events led to the deaths, caused by the Urkku, of Bruin the Brave and Rufus the Red, both of whom will be sorely missed, both by myself personally for they were my friends, and by the wood as a whole. I feel sure, however, that their names and exploits will live on for ever in the annals of legend and myth so that they will never die and their spirits will watch over us.’ He paused and there was an expectant hush. ‘I will now call upon Nab to give an account of his capture and the killing of Rufus.’
The events of the past two days and nights had been so swift moving and shattering that Nab was still half-dazed by them and, when Brock pushed him forward, he had no time to be nervous and gave a vivid account of everything that had happened since he and Rufus first spotted the Urkku outside Silver Wood. Indeed, as he was recounting the events he began to live through them again so that the story became alive and at the end when he’d finished there was silence.
As he sat down again, exhausted with the emotional effort of reliving that night, Brock, Perryfoot and Sam were almost speechless with amazement at the full realization of what had happened and at the part they had each played. When everyone had calmed down, Wythen called on Sam and Brock to relate their sides of the story and finally Warrigal gave an account of Bruin’s brave death. The picture was now complete and the tale would become legend as it was told and re-told in burrows or earths, holes or nests on balmy summer evenings or on wild winter nights. It would lose something in the telling but it would also gain something and the animal who told it would be proud to say, ‘I knew Sam,’ or ’Brock and I used to have long talks together.’
When Warrigal had finished speaking, Wythen, sensing that there was no more to be said, slowly turned away from the meeting and flew up to join his son. All the animals, at this sign that the meeting was over, then began to disperse. They were lost in thought, each with his own private ideas, but when they returned to the privacy of their homes there would be endless discussion and analysis of the story and of the serious consequences to which it might lead. When Nab had first come to the wood many of them had felt that they were on the threshold of history and some of them now believed that this was the beginning.
Warrigal flew down while the rest of the animals were making their way back through the entrance or through the trees and told Nab and Brock that Wythen wanted to speak to them under the silver birch at the edge of the semi-circle and that then they would have to leave. The badger and the boy sadly turned to the others to wish them farewell. Warrigal then said that the whereabouts of Brock and Nab should be kept secret at all costs; it was a matter that must not be disclosed until the time was right. Brock and Tara rubbed noses affectionately; she was very proud of him now as he was about to leave the wood to meet the Elflord, and she was pleased for him that his disappointment with himself in not preventing Nab being captured seemed to have gone. He was back to his old self; confident, a little arrogant, and full of excitement about the future. Nab then came up to her and, putting his hands deep in the fur around her neck, he rubbed his forehead against hers. She was full of apprehensions and fears about the safety of this boy, whom she loved dearly. All the early times in the wood; when he had been little and they had played together and she had told him stories as she held him in her forepaws; they all seemed so long ago now. The prophecies of legend and the paths of destiny had then seemed to belong to another world. Now it seemed that world was coming closer to draw them in and there was nothing she could do about it; the stage was set and the actors already chosen and all she could do was watch and play her part as best she could.
After what seemed a long time but was in fact only a few seconds, Nab let go of her fur and stroked Sam and Perryfoot before turning away and walking off towards the birch with Brock and Warrigal. The dog and the hare also felt an affection for Nab which they found hard to explain; they had already risked their lives once to rescue him and they knew that they would do it again and again if necessary without a thought. They would dearly have liked to go with the others but Warrigal had told them that Wythen had been given precise instructions by the Elflord as to whom he wanted to see and that they were to remain in Silver Wood in case they were needed.
When Brock and Nab arrived at the silver birch where they were to meet Wythen they stopped and looked back across the empty clearing to see the others standing by the entrance gazing over at them. For a second the two groups stared at each other and then, with Perryfoot leading, the three turned away and disappeared through the gap in the trees. Suddenly Wythen appeared with Warrigal at his side. He spoke very slowly and his clear voice had an almost mesmerizing effect, as if he was willing his audience to remember every word.
‘I have given Warrigal directions and he will take you. None of you has been to Tall Wood before. It is where the Elflord resides. In the language of the old ones it is named Ellmondrill, the Enchanted Forest. It is not a perilous place but for the first time it may be frightening in that all is not what it may seem. Do not be afraid; once you are there you are safe. The Urkku do not go into the wood for it has the reputation amongst them of being a dangerous place; those that have ventured in have come out with their minds turned for the Elflord works strong magic to retain his refuge. It is now Moon-High; if you travel carefully, keeping well hidden, you should arrive on the outskirts of the wood by dusk tomorrow. Do not hurry; it is vital that you are not seen by anyone, for the suspicions of the Urkku must not be aroused any more than they already have been. Now, farewell.’