Calib stood numbly, unsure if he wanted to scream or cry, hit something or go hide. His home had been attacked, and he’d not been there to protect it.
Suddenly, there was a soft whissh through the air, followed by a hard thwack as a creature-sized arrow narrowly missed Galahad’s boot and buried itself into the ground.
“That was a warning shot!” said a voice from the trees. “Who goes there?”
“Macie!” Calib cried out. “It’s me! It’s us!”
The red squirrel’s face popped out above the tree branches. “Calib?” Her eyes widened. “Cecily!” Quick as a flash, Macie ran straight down the trunk of the tree and wrapped Cecily in her arms. “Thank goodness you’re all right!”
“I’m fine,” Cecily said, hugging her friend back. “But you’re clearly not.” Cecily was right. A white bandage was looped lopsidedly around Macie’s left ear, and a scrap of cloth had hastily been tied around her forearm.
“What happened?” Calib asked. “Where’s Commander Kensington? Where are the others?”
Macie’s smile fell off her face. “Most of them are still in the castle,” she said, her voice strained. She drew up her bow again. “And some are behind you!”
“I know,” Calib said, and was aware of Thomas shuffling farther back into the crowd, sweeping Rosy and Silas back with him.
“But I promise,” Calib continued, “these are friendly ones. They have been hurt by the Saxon army and Morgan—er, the Manderlean—just as badly as us.”
“Speaking of,” Cecily interrupted, “Macie, what happened? Is Maman all right?”
Macie threw one last suspicious glance at the mishmash of animals behind Calib before looking at Cecily. “For now,” she said cautiously, “Viviana is hiding with some others in the caves. It all happened so quick!”
“What did?” Leftie growled as he made his way to the front.
“Leftie!” Macie cried. “Where? How?” But she seemed at a loss at what to say first. Finally, she seemed to settle on the most obvious truth. “I’m so glad you’re here!”
Leftie tapped his paw on the ground. “I expected more precise reporting from Camelot’s chief scout,” he chided. “Report!”
“Yes, sir.” Macie saluted with tail to forehead. “The invaders took the castle by surprise. We think that Morgan cast a sleeping spell that put all the sentries into a slumber, because she rode into the courtyard on a jet-black stallion with no one raising so much as a hiccup.” Macie shut her eyes briefly before continuing. “It wasn’t until she had King Arthur and Queen Guinevere at swordpoint that anyone realized what had happened. Commander Kensington is still trapped in the castle with most of the others, held hostage by Saxon weasels.”
“And how did you escape?” Galahad asked, kneeling down into the dirt. To Calib’s surprise, Macie didn’t look the least bit startled when Galahad addressed her. Man and beast were getting better at conversing—at listening.
“Commander Kensington and most of the mouse-knights were set upon in a similar way,” Macie said. “We were only able to get out because Warren knew about the secret tunnel leading out to the beach.”
“I knew it!” Red said, stepping out from behind Galahad, who must have been translating for him. “I knew those passageways under Camelot had to lead to somewhere.”
Before Calib could even blink, Macie had notched her arrow and let it fly loose.
“Ow!” Red yelped as suddenly as the arrow dug into his calf. “You know, you animals are making it very hard to want to help you!”
“You deserved it,” Cecily snapped while Macie quickly notched another arrow.
“Peace, squirrel,” Leftie said. “That Two-Legger is helping us.”
Surprised, Macie’s bow dipped slightly. “Isn’t that Mordred? Morgan’s son who just last season attacked King Arthur?”
“Er, yes,” Calib said. “It’s a long story, but we trust him. For now. You keep saying ‘we’—who else is here?”
Hesitantly, Macie lowered her bow all the way, but she still kept the arrow in her paw. “Follow me,” she said. “I’ll show you.”
As silently as they could, the procession from the Iron Mountains wound themselves through the trees. Soon, Calib heard the sound of water, and a few minutes later, saw the river. Anchored near the tangled roots of a willow, there floated a rodent-sized ship with black sails.
Galahad moved his hand to Excalibur, but Calib immediately recognized the ship as The Salty Pup—the very same vessel that had taken them to Avalon. At that moment, the head of a plump mouse popped up over the prow of the ship.
“My friends! At last!” Barnaby’s face lit up in a gigantic grin, and a few minutes later, the brown mouse was joined on deck by even more familiar faces: Warren, Devrin, Sir Alric, and Dandelion.
“Admiral Barnaby,” Macie called out, “permission to board?”
“Granted!”
“Oh, so you’re an admiral now!” Ginny teased once they’d clambered on deck. “I must have missed that!”
“Ginny!” Barnaby cried, his whiskers curling in delight. “Your letters stopped coming! I thought the worst had happened!”
Ginny ran up and planted a big kiss on his snout. “Well, it wasn’t great, I’ll tell you that.”
Suddenly conscious of everyone watching, Barnaby quickly composed himself.
“Er, yes, Tristan decided he wanted to settle on some island he found far north of here. He’s given The Salty Pup to me to run for those of his crew uninterested in farming.”
The crew of The Salty Pup was hurrying around, handing out blankets and hanging up extra bunks for the unexpected number of guests. The larger animals, like the foxes and badgers, were handed spare sails to wrap themselves in as they settled along the grassy banks. Leftie organized the older animals into sentry shifts.
“How did you get here so fast, Barnaby?” Cecily asked. She was sitting comfortably between Devrin and Dandelion, and she had wrapped her arm around Dandelion, who couldn’t seem to stop trembling. Warren stood stiffly to the side on account of a bandaged tail.
Barnaby walked over and handed each of them a piece of hardtack. “After Ginny’s messages stopped arriving at my ports of call, I began to get worried. So I sailed back as quick as I could. We arrived just as the Saxons had broken through the main castle gate. I managed to smuggle everyone I could out through the secret tunnel that leads to the beach.”
With an eye on the shivering Dandelion, Calib leaned over and whispered into Barnaby’s ear, “What happened to her?”
Barnaby shook his head, eyes sad. “She’s been like that ever since we got word of Morgan’s plan.”
“The Saxons will execute King Arthur and Queen Guinevere in the morning.”
“We have to stop them!” Calib cried out.
“Yes,” Cecily said grimly. “We need a war council.”