shuffled their feet and rubbed their noses. Holding the child, Willow looked inquiringly at friends and neighbors, but they avoided his gaze.
“I’ll go,” Meegosh said.
“Good!” Burglekutt declared. “Excellent! Praise the bones! Hail Meegosh!”
“Yes.” The High Aldwin looked sourly at Burglekutt. “We have two brave men. And now, this expedition needs a leader. According to the bones, Prefect Burglekutt, that leader is you .”
Burglekutt slapped his chest and staggered back. His hat tipped over his forehead. He went pale.
“Me?”
The High Aldwin nodded. “You.”
“Praise the bones!” the crowd shouted.
“Vohnkar!” Burglekutt pointed. “You and your warriors! Pack your things!”
It took two days for the expedition to organize and pack the supplies for the long journey. They were a tense two days in Nelwyn Valley. No one could forget the ferocity of the Death Dog in its charge. The memory was too vivid, the graves too fresh, for anyone to feel secure. Vohnkar and his men rigged trip-lines across all tracks and paths, and patrolled the perimeters of the village until the time came to leave.
By dawn on the third day, all was ready. They gathered as the mist was rising at the burial ground of the old settlement, where megaliths and dolmens loomed out of the long grass. Willow and his family arrived to find Meegosh and his mother already there. The old woman wrung her hands and wept inconsolably, convinced that she would never see her son again. The Ufgoods huddled together, looking down to the place where the road curved and entered the forest like the mouth of a dark tunnel.
“Are you frightened, Dada?” Ranon asked.
“No,” Willow said. “Yes.”
“I don’t blame you,” Mims said. “I would be too, if I didn’t have me along. Without me, the fairies in the woodland might cast a charm on you and put you to sleep for a hundred years!”
“And without me,” Ranon said, “the brownies could catch you and tie you down and tickle you to death!”
“Trolls!” Mims said, wide-eyed. “Trolls might skin you alive if I wasn’t there to stop them. They might take your face and . . .”
“Mims, please. I hate trolls. You know I hate trolls.”
“I could guard you against them. I could carry your spear.”
Willow laughed and embraced his children. “What a lucky father I am! I wish I could take you both with me, but I have Vohnkar to protect me. And besides, who’d look after your mother if we all went?”
Ranon shrugged and nodded.
“That’s true,” Mims said. “I’d better stay.”
Vohnkar and his two warriors had appeared out of the mist and were waiting down the path. Lances and bows rose over their packs like slender horns.
Kiaya had woven a papoose-basket and lined it with fur, designing it so the child could be tucked snugly inside, in her blanket. “I miss you already,” she said as she helped Willow fit on the shoulder straps of this basket. “I love you.” Tears brimmed over. She brushed them away with the back of her hand.
Willow took her into his arms. “I love you, Kiaya. Keep well. Don’t find any more baby-boats in the river.”
She kept weeping.
“That was a joke.”
“I know.” She sobbed against his chest. “Remember to keep her warm and feed her properly. And take this. It will bring you luck.” She handed him a braid of her hair.
“Kiaya, you cut your hair?”
“Keep it here,” she said, tucking it into Willow’s jacket above his heart.
Burglekutt was approaching. They could hear him grumbling in the mist. Mims scowled and pointed at the sound.
“Urglekutt, Schmurglekutt,
Fat Burglekutt,
Pain in the forehead,
Pain in the butt !”
“Ouch! A bee!”
“Mims! Stop that!”
Burglekutt appeared, rubbing his bottom. “What I don’t understand,” he said, “is exactly what we’re supposed to do. Journey to the Daikini crossroads and nothing else? Wait for a sign? Leave the child there and come home again? Who knows?”
“ I
“I’ll go,” Meegosh said.
“Good!” Burglekutt declared. “Excellent! Praise the bones! Hail Meegosh!”
“Yes.” The High Aldwin looked sourly at Burglekutt. “We have two brave men. And now, this expedition needs a leader. According to the bones, Prefect Burglekutt, that leader is you .”
Burglekutt slapped his chest and staggered back. His hat tipped over his forehead. He went pale.
“Me?”
The High Aldwin nodded. “You.”
“Praise the bones!” the crowd shouted.
“Vohnkar!” Burglekutt pointed. “You and your warriors! Pack your things!”
It took two days for the expedition to organize and pack the supplies for the long journey. They were a tense two days in Nelwyn Valley. No one could forget the ferocity of the Death Dog in its charge. The memory was too vivid, the graves too fresh, for anyone to feel secure. Vohnkar and his men rigged trip-lines across all tracks and paths, and patrolled the perimeters of the village until the time came to leave.
By dawn on the third day, all was ready. They gathered as the mist was rising at the burial ground of the old settlement, where megaliths and dolmens loomed out of the long grass. Willow and his family arrived to find Meegosh and his mother already there. The old woman wrung her hands and wept inconsolably, convinced that she would never see her son again. The Ufgoods huddled together, looking down to the place where the road curved and entered the forest like the mouth of a dark tunnel.
“Are you frightened, Dada?” Ranon asked.
“No,” Willow said. “Yes.”
“I don’t blame you,” Mims said. “I would be too, if I didn’t have me along. Without me, the fairies in the woodland might cast a charm on you and put you to sleep for a hundred years!”
“And without me,” Ranon said, “the brownies could catch you and tie you down and tickle you to death!”
“Trolls!” Mims said, wide-eyed. “Trolls might skin you alive if I wasn’t there to stop them. They might take your face and . . .”
“Mims, please. I hate trolls. You know I hate trolls.”
“I could guard you against them. I could carry your spear.”
Willow laughed and embraced his children. “What a lucky father I am! I wish I could take you both with me, but I have Vohnkar to protect me. And besides, who’d look after your mother if we all went?”
Ranon shrugged and nodded.
“That’s true,” Mims said. “I’d better stay.”
Vohnkar and his two warriors had appeared out of the mist and were waiting down the path. Lances and bows rose over their packs like slender horns.
Kiaya had woven a papoose-basket and lined it with fur, designing it so the child could be tucked snugly inside, in her blanket. “I miss you already,” she said as she helped Willow fit on the shoulder straps of this basket. “I love you.” Tears brimmed over. She brushed them away with the back of her hand.
Willow took her into his arms. “I love you, Kiaya. Keep well. Don’t find any more baby-boats in the river.”
She kept weeping.
“That was a joke.”
“I know.” She sobbed against his chest. “Remember to keep her warm and feed her properly. And take this. It will bring you luck.” She handed him a braid of her hair.
“Kiaya, you cut your hair?”
“Keep it here,” she said, tucking it into Willow’s jacket above his heart.
Burglekutt was approaching. They could hear him grumbling in the mist. Mims scowled and pointed at the sound.
“Urglekutt, Schmurglekutt,
Fat Burglekutt,
Pain in the forehead,
Pain in the butt !”
“Ouch! A bee!”
“Mims! Stop that!”
Burglekutt appeared, rubbing his bottom. “What I don’t understand,” he said, “is exactly what we’re supposed to do. Journey to the Daikini crossroads and nothing else? Wait for a sign? Leave the child there and come home again? Who knows?”
“ I
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