The Highlander shrugged carelessly. “Och, that rascal’s nae problem, mate. Ah’ll deal with him whilst we’re layin’ here waitin’.”
Tam watched Doogy slip off quietly and circle in on the sentry. He heard the vermin give a soft grunt, then saw him lean back against the hornbeam trunk.
A moment later Doogy was back. Cleaning the blade of his small dagger on the grass, he murmured, “Ah’ve propped him up on his spear. He won’t be complainin’ aboot gettin’ a good long sleep!”
Armel could tell by the slump of Shard’s back that he had fallen asleep by the fire, which now was only white ash and glowing embers. Gulo was sleeping further away from her. She could see him stretched out on the ground with his back to the heat. Both of the ermine sentries were also deep in slumber—one curled up almost nose to tail, the other flat on his back, snoring throatily.
The squirrelmaid tried for the fourth time to reach the ropes with her teeth, but all she got was a straining pain in her neck. She sighed. “If I could only get my teeth into these ropes. How are you doing, Brooky?”
The ottermaid gritted quietly, “I’ve rubbed my paws raw trying to get ’em free. Huh, that Shard creature certainly ties a tight knot. He knows the ropes alright! Armel, did you hear that—‘knows the ropes’? I actually made a joke, but it doesn’t seem very funny right now.”
“Ssshh! Don’t make a sound, either of ye.”
Brooky whispered to her companion, “Did you say something?”
The voice sounded again. “No, it was me, marm. Look up, but don’t say anything. We’re friends!”
Gazing upward, both Abbeymaids found themselves staring into the faces of Tam and Doogy.
The Highlander smiled. “Now hauld yer wheesht, lassies. We’re here tae get ye away back tae yore Abbey.”
Both squirrels dropped noiselessly down behind the oak, where they could talk unobserved. Tam whispered to the captives, “Be quite still now, don’t make any sudden moves. Just tell me, how many are guardin’ ye?”
Brooky hardly moved her lips as she replied. “Only these two laying down not far from us. They’re both asleep. The beast they call Gulo is over to the left of the fire. I think he’s asleep also. There’s a fox sitting by the edge of the fire—keep an eye on that one. His name’s Captain Shard. He looks like he’s asleep, but you never can tell. He’s a sly one. That’s all.”
The ropes which had been stretched about the oak trunk at neck height suddenly fell slack. Tam and Doogy crept around to face Armel and Brooky. Tam whipped through the ottermaid’s bonds with his small dagger.
As Tam handed over his knife to Brooky, he instructed her carefully. “Free your friend, then move quietly around to the back of this tree and wait for us. Give us your cloaks. We’ll need them for the two guards.”
The Abbeymaids did as they were bidden. They had to wait only a brief moment before the two squirrel warriors returned. Doogy began retying the ropes that had been stretched around the tree, whilst Tam spoke reassuringly to the liberated prisoners. “My friend is binding the guards to this tree. I hope ye didn’t mind us borrowing your cloaks. We’ve dressed them up to look like you two, in case anybeast wakes during the night. Now let’s get away from here as quick an’ silently as possible.”
Brooky suddenly halted at the sight of the sentry leaning up against the hornbeam, but Doogy urged her onward. “Dinna be feared, lassie, he’ll no’ be botherin’ ye!”
Neither Abbeymaid had ever encountered a slain creature before. The ottermaid crept gingerly past the dead ermine. “You mean you killed him . . . and the guards?”
Doogy raised his eyes skyward, as if seeking patience. “Marm, they’re vermin! The foebeasts, ye ken? Would ye sooner be back there roped tae a tree?”
Armel shook her head. “Please forgive our foolishness. We are more than grateful that you and your friend saved our lives.” She placed her paw upon Tam’s. “I’m sorry. We’ll take the time to thank you properly back at the Abbey. Oh . . . wait!”
Tam gazed into the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. “What is it, miss? We can’t wait, we’ve got to go, fast!”
The squirrelmaid shook her pretty head. “I must go back for the sword. That fox Shard took it from me. It’s hidden under his cloak!”
Tam barred her path back to the camp. Puzzled, he enquired, “Sword, what sword? What are you talking about, miss . . . ?”
“Armel,” she replied. “My name is Sister Armel. Who are you, sir, and where do you come from? Please answer me!”
Tam was frankly bewildered, but Sister Armel fascinated him. “My name’s Rakkety Tam MacBurl, an’ he’s Wild Doogy Plumm. I’m from up north, the border, but Doogy’s a Highlander. Why?”
Armel’s eyes shone with joy. She seized Tam’s paw. “The Borderer who is a force for good! Tell me, why aren’t you wearing a sword, Mister MacBurl?”
Tam was bewildered by her question. “Er, I had to give it up in exchange for something. Why, Sister? Is it important?”
Armel pressed on with her interrogation. “It’s vital, sir. Would you say that you’d lost your sword?”
Doogy interrupted. “Aye, marm, ye could say that, but we don’t have time tae stand here gossipin’. Move yersel’, Tam, afore the vermin come after us!”
Normally Tam would have heeded his friend’s warning, but something he could neither explain nor understand was urging him to listen to the squirrelmaid. “You go, Doogy. Take the ottermaid with ye. I must hear our friend out. We’ll catch up with ye shortly.”
The Highlander shook his head at Tam’s attitude. “Ah hope ye know what yore doin’, mate. We’ll await ye near the path, where ah left mah shield an’ claymore. Good luck tae ye both!”
When the Highlander and the ottermaid had gone, Tam turned to Armel. “Doogy’s right, Sister, we shouldn’t stay long here. So, please, tell me what this is all about.”
Realising the urgency of the situation, the squirrelmaid tried to explain briefly. “In a dream, I was told by a long-dead warrior to take his sword and search for he who pursues the vermin lord. His exact words were ‘The Borderer who is a force for good, that warrior who sold and lost his sword.’ That white fox, Captain Shard, he stole the sword from me. Mister MacBurl, I think you are the warrior who can get it back.”
The border warrior’s heart melted at the hope shining from the maid’s soft brown eyes. He smiled. “You can call me Tam. I’ll get that sword for ye, Sister, but ye stay out of the way when we get back to the vermin camp. Here, take my little dagger, ye may need it.”
Armel took the Sgian Dhu, which fitted her paw perfectly. “Thank you, Tam. You may call me Armel.”
He winked boldly at her. “Lucky me, I’ve lost a sister and gained a friend. Right, let’s go an’ get this sword, Armel!”
Nothing had stirred in the camp since Tam and Armel left. Vermin slept around the bed of glowing embers that had once been the campfire. Gulo the Savage lay on one side, facing away from the white ashes, his mouth lolling open as he emitted hoarse, rasping snores. Shard sat bent almost double, his shoulders rising and falling beneath his cloak.
Tam peered from behind the double-topped oak, assuring himself that nobeast was on the alert. Armel crouched alongside the warrior, pointing out the white fox captain.
“He’s the one. Look, I can see the sword! It’s hanging from his shoulders by a cord. Abbot Humble had the sword wrapped in a soft cloth sheath. See the tip of it sticking out beneath the fox’s cloak, on the left side?”
Tam nodded. “I can see it now, Armel. Listen, get up into this tree. We’ll travel faster by branch-hoppin’ if they come after us.”
The squirrelmaid began climbing into the lower boughs. “I was brought up in an Abbey, so I mightn’t be very good at what you call branch-hopping, Tam.”