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washed, windows to be cleaned, sheets to be counted and folded, lots of torn nightshirts to be sewn, pillowslips to be scrubbed..."
He watched their faces going from glumness to despair at the mention of each new chore. Chuckling aloud, Hollyberry rose and patted their heads. "But we'll start all that tomorrow. You can have the rest of the day off. Sorry you're not allowed out, young uns. Maybe if you look in the big cupboard you'll find a game of pebbles and acorns. Oh, and some candied chestnuts in my little locker here. That should keep you amused until bedtime or thereabouts."
Samkim rubbed his paws delightedly. "Thanks, Brother Hollyberry, you're a real matey. Er, were you ever naughty when you were young?"
The old mouse looked secretively to and fro as he whispered, "Naughty? Let me tell you, young un, I was known as Hollyberry the Horrible when I was a little mouse. Old Abbot Saxtus said that I was the reason he was gray and bent double. Listen now, I've got to go and tend my herbs in the garden. Do you think you can behave yourself while I'm gone?"
Arula draped a clean sheet over her head. "Gudd zurr, lookit oi, hurr hurt, a snow-whoit-choild oi be."
3
Pikkle Ffolger searched the corners of his knapsack and came up with a single wild oatscone, which he wagged in Mara's face.
"The last bally scrap of tuck between two stout 'n' starvin' travelers, would y' believe it, old chum!"
The sturdy young badger maid plucked the scone from his paws. ' 'There were four oatscones in that bag before I went to sleep last night. You flop-eared glutton, you've scoffed 'em!"
Pikkle placed a paw over his heart, his face a picture of injured innocence. "Scoffed? Did I hear you use the expression scoffed, O boon companion and playmate of my younger days? Nibbled daintily, picked idly at, maybe even mouthed a morsel or so. But scoffed, never!"
Mara broke the scone in two and tossed half to him. "Listen here, Ffolger me old Pikkle, don't try baffling me with 0owery phrases. You're a scoffer and you always have been, so there!"
Grinning from ear to ear, Pikkle scoffed his half. "Oh well, truth will out, old gel, wot? I say, it's goin' to take us until late night to get back to jolly old Salamawotsit. I bet we're
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both in for some pretty stiff words when old Urthstripe catches up with us."
Mara slumped moodily in the hollow of two dunes, her appetite suddenly gone at the thought of returning to face the badger Lord.
"Huh, SalamandastronI wish I never had to go back to that dreary mountain, Pikkle. Day and night, dawn to dusk, it's watch your manners, learn your badger lore, keep your room tidy, sit up straight, don't slouch, do this, do that, don't do this, don't do that. I'm sick to the stripes of it all! Isn't there somewhere young ones can do what they want, have fun all day, without elders and grownbeasts making you do silly boring things ... ?"
"Then come with uswe do as we please!"
Mara and Pikkle looked around in surprise. A pair of young creatures, a weasel and a ferret, appeared around the dune.
The garrulous Pikkle winked and grinned cheekily at them. "What ho, chaps. Who are you?"
The weasel smiled back. He was a handsome-looking beast, with the brightest blue eyes Mara had ever seen. "Hello there! I'm Klitch and he's Goffa. We've come up from the Southwest Lands."
Mara sized the pair up. The ferret was a shifty-looking creature, dressed in a long tunic that had obviously been cut down to fit him. He carried a spear and wore a dagger in the piece of rope that served him as a belt. The young weasel was a different matter altogether. His clothing fitted perfectly. He wore a smart yellow tunic, and on his woven belt hung a short sword, complete with case. He also sported a pair of thick white bone bracelets. All in all he appeared quite dashing. Mara felt self-conscious; both she and Pikkle were clad in the homely sand-colored smocks worn by those who lived at Salamandastron.
"My name is Mara, and this is my friend Pikkle Ffolger. We come from the mountain fortress of Salamandastron, almost a day's march north of here."
Klitch smiled oddly. "But you don't want to go back, right?"
Mara stood up, dusting sand from herself. "Oh, we moan and groan a bit, but we always return there. It's our home, you see. Tell me, did you and Goffa come all the way up from the Southwest by yourselves?"
A quick smile passed between Klitch and Goffa, then the weasel shrugged carelessly.
"Oh, more or less. We do exactly what we want and go just where we please. Isn't that right, Goffa?"
The ferret leaned on his spear and nodded. "Right!"
"But you two are only young ones, like us," Pikkle interrupted. "I say, who allows you to carry weapons like that?"
Klitch's blue eyes twinkled merrily. "Nobeast allows us to do anythingwe feel like having weapons, so we carry 'em and don't give a hoot for anyone!"
The more Mara heard from Klitch the more she admired him.
He drew his sword and swung it, neatly clipping the heads from two dandelions growing amid the reedgrass. "So you're from Salamandastron, hellsteeth! That's a right old mouthful of a name. Tell you what, me and Goffa here will walk along with you. I'd like to see this place. You can tell me all about it as we go."
Without further preamble the four young ones set out for the mountain, chatting and laughing. Klitch was an amusing talker with lots of interesting tales to tell. He was also a good listener and paid rapt attention to anything Mara or Pikkle had to say about their homeso much so, that eventually they were doing all the talking and he was doing all the listening. Goffa rarely spoke.
The journey did not seem half so arduous with friends to share it. Still, it was night when they came within hailing distance of the great mountain.
Windpaw, a fully grown female hare, met them as they crossed the shore. She nodded at the two newcomers and shook a cautionary paw at Mara and Pikkle.
' 'We were about to send search parties out looking for you.
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Mara, you are untidy. Where in the name of seashells have you been?"
Pikkle waved a paw airily. "Oh, here an' there, y'know. Thither an' yon, as they say ..."
Windpaw silenced him with a frosty glare. "You can tell that to Lord Urthstripe, young Ffolger. First you'd both better come with me. Have you eaten today?"
Mara indicated the ferret and the weasel. "Meet our friends Klitch and Goffa. They'll need food too."
Windpaw shook her head doubtfully at the thought of .. ferret and a weasel entering the fortress. She looked them up and down, then snorted. "Hmmm, they look young and hungry enough, I suppose. Follow me."
Klitch bowed gracefully, putting on a smile that would have charmed a bird from its nest. "Thank you kindly, beautiful lady."
Windpaw sniffed. She led them through a concealed entrance. "The dining room is down that passage. There's a bowl of water and towel as you go in. Make sure you wash your paws before sitting down to eat."
Klitch winked at his companion. "We wouldn't dream of eating with dirty paws, would we, friend Goffa?"
The ferret winced as Klitch kicked his paw. "Ouch! What, er, oh no, of course not!"