‘We heard it!’ they cried. ‘The cart is back! It’s just gone past us, heading north again.’
Moments later, Podkin, Paz and the two dwarf rabbits were at the roadside, following the fresh tracks of the cart and rat. (Pook was too small for this adventure and had been left safely behind with Crom, who insisted he was too clumsy to be crashing his way around the woods by touch, when stealth and creeping was called for.)
The rabbits hung back far enough to be hidden from the cartsmen, but close enough to hear the wagon squeaking and the snow crunching under the giant rat’s paws. To find their way back again, they carved crosses into tree trunks here and there, for it was a long cold walk out of the forest.
At last they reached the edge and could spy the cart in the distance. Keeping far back and low to the ground, they followed its marks through the pristine snow. For an hour or more they trudged along, thinking it might never stop, when the track disappeared over the brow of a small hill.
When the rabbits caught up, they lay on the ground and peered down into the valley. If their blood hadn’t already been close to ice, what they saw would have made it run cold.
Down below was a cluster of tents, dusted with snow and ringed by a palisade of wooden stakes. The cart was rolling towards it, and coming out to meet it were several rabbits. Large rabbits. Large armoured rabbits.
‘It’s a Gorm camp!’ Podkin hissed. Every rabbit instinct in his body told him to turn and run and not stop until he was deep in the forest, locked away inside his new warren. Instead he bit back the fear, like he had in Boneroot, letting burning anger take its place.
‘What are they doing here?’ Paz whispered. ‘I thought they lived in Splinterholm, far up in the north?’
‘They do,’ Mash agreed. ‘But there must be lots of warrens around here to control. Maybe this is the base they do it from.’
Podkin thought about all the places nearby that had fallen under Gorm control. There was Redwater, and Munbury of course. Further north, by the lakeside, were Applecross and Cherrywood, and probably more that he hadn’t heard of. They would need somewhere nearby for all that conquering and pillaging.
He peered closer at the camp, trying to count how many Gorm there might be. At least twenty, he thought – maybe more in those tents. And lots of other rabbits besides. Servants and slaves, probably. But what about those ones in the corner of the camp? Were they shut in some kind of enclosure or something?
‘Prisoners,’ he said, under his breath. The others looked at him.
‘What was that, Pod?’ Paz asked.
‘Prisoners,’ he said. ‘Down in the corner there. It looks like they’ve got people cooped up. Paz, what if …?’
He didn’t need to say it. Both of them had kept a secret hope, ever since leaving Munbury, that their mother and aunt might still be alive. Neither of them had mentioned it, in case speaking it aloud might break it or make it vanish, but now, with what lay down in the valley below them …
‘Can you see her?’ Paz asked, craning her neck.
‘Not yet, but maybe … if we could get closer …’
‘Keep down!’ Mash grabbed the two rabbits by their cloaks and pulled them down into the snow. ‘You’re going to give us away.’
‘But what if …’ Podkin said. ‘We have to …’
‘We have to get back to Crom,’ said Mish. ‘He needs to know about this. Maybe he can come up with a plan.’
Podkin knew that was right but he couldn’t pull himself away, not if his mother might still be down there. In the end it was Paz who made him leave, taking him by the hand and gently pulling him, all the while staring him in the eyes with a look that told him they would be back. Absolutely, definitely, they would be back.
*
‘There’s no way you’re going back,’ said Crom. He had folded his arms and was looking as stern as possible (which was actually pretty stern). ‘Twenty Gorm? It would be suicide.’
‘But we’d have you with us,’ Podkin said. They were all sat by the fire after a paltry dinner of acorn bread and dried mushrooms.
‘Doesn’t matter,’ said Crom. ‘I could take out one, maybe two at best. That still leaves eighteen. Are you going to take on eighteen Gorm? With your magical dagger that can’t even cut through their armour?’
‘We could try,’ said Paz. ‘We might be able to come up with some kind of plan. We have to do something.’
‘You don’t even know that your mother is there,’ said Crom. ‘It’s not worth the risk. I know how you feel … I’ve lost people before … but you’d only end up being caught yourselves. Or killed, even. Would your mother want that?’
There was nothing that could be said. Mish and Mash had already headed off to their beds, exhausted by the long walk through the snow. Pook was quietly snoring in Paz’s arms, so Paz and Podkin lit a candle and took him off to their room, leaving Crom to sit and listen to the snaps and crackles of the fire alone.
Podkin waited until the door was firmly shut, and Pook tucked into his little cot in the corner of their tiny room. He set the candle on the shelf between his and Paz’s beds and watched as it cast dancing shadows over the earthen walls.
‘Well?’ he said. ‘Do you reckon we could do it without him?’
Paz started to sigh, but in the end it came out as more of a sob. ‘Pod, we couldn’t even do it with him. He’s right. We’d just be handing ourselves over to the Gorm.’ She sat down on her bed and hugged herself, looking sad and very tired.
‘So we’re just going to sit here and let them kill our mother too? Or turn her into some kind of slave?’
‘We don’t even know if she’s there, Podkin. We didn’t see her, did we? She could be back in Munbury warren, looking after the place like … like …’
She didn’t have to say it. Podkin knew what she meant. Like Lady Russet. A hollow-eyed zombie, running her own warren for her new masters. The thought of that woman made Podkin’s missing ear give a ghostly twitch. Could that be right? Was there an ugly metal pillar in the middle of Munbury longburrow, watching as Pod’s old friends and family cowered before the Gorm? Had their beautiful childhood home become a dead, evil place like Redwater?
‘No,’ he said. ‘No. We talked about that, don’t you remember? In the snow burrow, that night before Boneroot. You said mother would never do that. You even laughed at the idea.’
‘I know I did, Pod.’ Paz sob-sighed again. ‘But maybe I was wrong. Or maybe she managed to escape – get clear away from Munbury and the Gorm. Or she might have told them where to go and they could have …’ She couldn’t bear to finish that thought. She hugged herself tighter, trying to make her brother understand.
‘The point is, we have no idea where she could be. And we don’t have any way to find out. Not unless we want to charge into a Gorm camp and end up as a bunch of skulls dangling from Scramashank’s belt.’
Podkin sat and stared at his sister for a while. She was right, of course (why was she always right?) and so was Crom, but it didn’t make it any easier. He couldn’t understand why they were both so ready to just give up. Was that something that happened to you when you got older? You grew up, became sensible and gave up hoping for anything?
‘I know she’s there,’ he said, eventually, in a quiet voice. And in saying it, he realised that he did actually know. Somewhere inside him – in his heart, maybe – there was a hard little nugget of certainty. He knew his mother was in that camp as surely as he knew carrots were orange.
‘You don’t really, Pod.’
‘I do. By the Goddess’s curly whiskers, I do. And I’m not just saying it to be difficult, Paz. Not this time. I swear to you she’s there, and we have to save her. Her and all those other poor prisoners. You have to trust me on this. Please.’
Paz stared at him long and hard, her eyes glinting in the candlelight. Finally she shrugged and flicked her ears at him.
‘Fine. If you can come up with a plan that can beat twenty Gorm, I’ll be right there with you. And it
’d better be a good plan, mind. One that doesn’t end up with us all getting skinned. Goodnight, Podkin.’
And with that, she blew out the candle and snuggled down in her bed, leaving Podkin staring at a dark ceiling.
Twenty Gorm. He couldn’t rescue his mother because there were twenty Gorm in the way. He couldn’t fight them; he couldn’t outrun them. What did he have that could get rid of them without getting himself or his friends killed?
It came to him in the last few seconds of wakefulness, just as he teetered on the edge of sleep. He never knew if it was a dream, an idea of his own, or a special thought sent into his head when he most needed it. It was important, though, and he clung to it all night, so it wouldn’t be lost come the morning.
He had two things that would help him beat twenty Gorm: he knew where their food came from and, most importantly, he was friends with a witch.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Battle of Camp Gorm
It took Podkin several days to convince Crom that his plan would work, and then several more for them to find Brigid’s house again. They knew she was somewhere west of Boneroot, along the outskirts of Grimheart forest, but he had been in no fit state to take much notice when he was last there.
So they had to set out on daily expeditions, marking the trees as they went, heading further and further outwards. Eventually they went so far that they had to camp out overnight in another snow burrow, but were rewarded the next day when they stood before a huge gnarled oak that looked a little familiar.
‘Could this be it?’ Podkin said to Paz. She shrugged, looking over to where a bored Mish and Mash were doing backflips in the snow.
‘Well, don’t just stand around on the doorstep,’ came a voice from deep in the woods. ‘Walk up and give the door a knock.’
Mish and Mash both squealed in shock and landed flat on their faces. Podkin and Paz were less surprised when a cloaked figure stepped out from among the trees. Brigid had been there all along.
She watched Mish and Mash pick themselves up from the floor with her blue eyes twinkling. Podkin thought they looked much brighter than usual. Brigid’s face also seemed less lined, her back not so stooped.
‘Not very agile for acrobats, are they?’ she said.
‘How did she—’ Mish began.
‘Know that?’ Brigid interrupted. ‘I know lots of things, dearie. Come on inside. I’ve got that potion Podkin’s about to ask me for.’
With Mish and Mash staring as though their eyes were about to pop out of their heads, they all sat around Brigid’s fire and shared a pot of stinging-nettle tea. She had mixed something up in a leather pouch, which she gave to Podkin. He slipped it into his belt with a nod. ‘For sweet dreams?’ he asked, just to check. Brigid winked.
‘And also,’ she added, ‘I’ve got that thing you two acrobats were after as well. “Bang dust”, don’t you call it?’
Mish and Mash gaped. They had only had the idea of using the explosive powder that very morning and hadn’t even told Podkin yet. Brigid went over to one of her cupboards and brought out two little barrels, one for each of the dwarf rabbits.
‘Stinky stuff,’ said Brigid. ‘Mixed it up a few months ago. Had to call in a few favours from an old friend of mine to get the sulphur and saltpetre. I hope you two know what you’re doing with it.’
It was Podkin and Paz’s turn to look surprised, but before they could say anything, Brigid took them both by the hand.
‘There’s one more thing,’ she said. ‘I’m going to be coming with you.’
‘Back to Darkhollow?’ Podkin said.
Brigid waggled her ears. ‘Yes, but also on this little expedition of yours. You’re going to need me.’
‘You can’t do that!’ Paz cried. ‘It’s too dangerous.’
‘Oh, I can take care of myself,’ Brigid smiled. ‘Especially lately. I’ve been growing stronger and stronger every day.’
Podkin was about to ask what she was talking about, but Paz already had an idea. ‘Because of the Balance you told us about? The picture of the snake?’
‘Yes, dear. Very good.’ Brigid patted Paz on the head as if she were a clever student. ‘The Gorm have been growing far too powerful. The Balance doesn’t like that. It’s beginning to swing the other way. And I plan to help it.’
Podkin wasn’t sure what that meant, but it couldn’t be denied that she looked like a new rabbit. And even though he didn’t want to put Brigid in danger, the thought of having her along made him feel much better about their chances.
*
The next part was much trickier.
With Mish and Mash both on watch for the Gorm’s supply wagon, it wasn’t long before it was spotted again. Wobbling along the rutted, snowy track with its weary guards and exhausted rat, the rabbits managed to sneak along behind it, hiding in the snowdrifts and undergrowth.
Further up the track, Podkin had used Starclaw to slice down a small tree and topple it across the path, creating a simple roadblock.
When the guards stopped the wagon and climbed down to chop the tree out of the way, Podkin and Mash slipped aboard.
Luckily, the sound of hacking wood masked any noise they made as they swiftly added Brigid’s mixture to all the sacks of wheat and grain. They poured it into the mead barrels and sprinkled it over the loaves of bread, until everything in the cart had a good dose. All the while, Paz and Mish kept watch, until the guards had almost finished clearing the tree. Then Paz gave a little whistle and the sneaking rabbits hopped down from the wagon and into the bushes.
The guards carried on their way, completely unaware that their cargo had been tampered with.
‘Tonight, then,’ Paz said, when they were gone.
‘Yes,’ said Podkin. ‘Tonight.’ His fur bristled with electric tingles at the thought.
*
It was a full moon with a clear sky, and the stars were spectacular. Podkin could see the Big Radish, Clarion the Bard and the Goddess herself: all the constellations gleaming amongst clouds of trillions upon trillions of twinkling lights. He wondered whether some rabbit had taken the time to name all of them, and if perhaps he should have spent a bit more time studying astronomy instead of sneaking off for naps and games of tag.
The silver glow reflected off the snow all around and glinted in tiny sparkles, like a mirror for the stars.
He sat with Paz, Mish, Mash and Crom. Brigid was there too, with Pook curled up asleep in a papoose under her cloak. They couldn’t have left him behind on his own in Darkhollow, and Brigid had promised to stay back, out of the camp and the action (although Podkin had spotted the twinkle in her eye as she said it, and he wondered whether she really would).
Together, they all perched on the brow of the hill, looking down at the Gorm camp. They had wrapped themselves in white woollen blankets for camouflage and looked like harmless lumps of snow. But underneath they were clad in leather armour from Darkhollow, and armed with daggers, swords and clubs. Mish and Mash also clutched the small wooden barrels that Brigid had given them, although they had still not told anyone else what they planned to do with it.
Crom had emerged from his father’s old chambers looking especially impressive. He wore a suit of lacquered scale armour, made from toughened, painted layers of leather, and he carried a long shield, a sword and an ash spear. Podkin had wondered if it might be a magic weapon, like his own father’s dagger, but Crom had just shaken his head. If there was a sacred treasure in Darkhollow, that wasn’t it.
They all sat in silence, apart from Pook’s gentle snoring, looking down on the enemy rabbits who were finishing their dinner. The Gorm were sitting around a fire inside the camp fences. Behind them was a cook’s bench. They had all been tucking into bowls of stew and loaves of bread. If their plan had worked, Brigid’s concoction should start taking effect any minute now.
Podkin held his breath and waited some more.
The Gorm sat motionless around the fire. None of them moved or even seemed to speak. Surely the sleep pot
ion should have started working by now? Come on, Podkin urged. Fall over. Have a lovely evening snooze.
As if they had heard his silent wish, one of the Gorm wobbled. He swayed forwards, backwards, and then – like an enormous iron tree being toppled – keeled over into the snow face first.
None of the others moved or even reacted.
Then, just as if a giant row of dominoes had been knocked over, they all began to topple, crashing to the ground and lying there, half covered in frost and snoring like babies.
‘It worked!’ Paz whispered. ‘Podkin, you’re a genius! And you too, Brigid!’
‘Don’t count your carrots before they’re grown,’ said Brigid. ‘You’re not even in the camp yet.’
‘Give it a few more moments,’ said Crom. ‘Then we go down.’
*
The walk down to the camp was a terrifying one. They left Brigid and Pook on the hillside and began to crunch their way through the thick snow. Podkin expected a hail of spears or arrows to come down on their heads at any second; they were entering the very heart of the Gorm stronghold and there would be no way for them to escape.
But nothing came flying over the wooden fence, and Podkin and the others soon stood by the gates, an eerie silence all around. Using Starclaw, Podkin sliced a hole through the middle of the doors, chopping out the latch on the other side. He pushed the wooden circle through, and it fell with a thud on to the frozen snow inside the camp.
‘Well,’ he said. ‘That was incredibly easy.’
‘Carrots. Counting,’ Paz reminded him.
Crom pushed open one of the gates, and they walked inside the camp. They almost stumbled over two sleeping Gorm. Up close the iron-clad warriors looked even more terrifying. It was only their loud snoring that gave Podkin the confidence to carry on – that, and the thought that his mother might be somewhere nearby.
There were tents to the left and right of them, but all seemed to be empty. The atmosphere was quiet and peaceful. Tranquil, almost, if it wasn’t for the shivers of pure terror jangling about in Podkin’s blood.
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