They reached the plane of stone that led into Cloud Mountain after a couple more hours had passed. Wilfred nodded to him, and Smalls pulled his cloak out and wrapped it around himself. Wilfred did the same. Hopefully, that would deter them from learning Wilfred’s identity long enough for them to get in and talk to Lord Rake.
Smalls had never been to Cloud Mountain before. In the fog and misting rain, it looked almost ominous. A large cave mouth gaped and was half-covered by time-worn, knurled trees, and moss dripped from the branches. A stream curved around the edge of it, and a tiny waterfall dripping water down into shallow pool that led into more waterfalls and streams down the mountain.
“Can we drink?” Heather whispered to him, gesturing to the stream.
“Let’s make sure it’s secure.” He replied. He drew his sword for what was probably the thousandth time in the last seventy-two hours and pulled his hood up. Smalls crept forward, poised for action. Scouting was second nature to him, something he had always taken naturally to. He sensed Wilfred behind him.
“Stand fast!”
Smalls froze at the unfamiliar voice, inwardly groaning.
“Take another step and it’ll be a belly full of arrows for you.”
Smalls considered for a moment, then responded, “I’m so hungry, I’d eat about anything now.” Apparently, whoever it was didn’t appreciate Smalls’ snark, because his response was less than cordial.
“Take another step, little one, and you’ll get your wish.”
Was the insult really necessary? I’m not that short. Smalls rolled his eyes, and opened his mouth to say something else distinctly impolite until Wilfred interrupted him.
“Have anything savory or dennish?”
The look he got was enough to silence any other words he might have had for the guard.
The wind picked up, blowing the fog away and revealing about nine rabbits, arranged in a V and standing at ready. They were archers, and Smalls could tell by their uniforms that they were the Forest Guard. The rabbit standing at the front stepped forward.
“Is that Wilfred?” His tone was not one Smalls liked, and it was the same one from before……..probably good that Wilfred hadn’t let him carry on with their passive-aggressive word battle. He never started-okay, maybe that wasn’t quite the truth, but still. He wasn’t usually the one who initiated the insults.
“It is.” Wilfred replied, making no acknowledgement of the rabbit’s rudeness. “Is that Pacer?”
“The same.” Pacer responded, bowing. He met them at the base of the cave, gaze remaining primarily on Wilfred but occasionally casting an uneasy glance at Smalls, obviously not knowing who he was. “It’s been a long time.” They drew even, and Smalls fiddled with his sword hilt, tempted to draw it but deciding not to. True aggression wasn’t necessary. Not yet, anyway.
“We’ve come very far, and we’re very hungry. We need to get inside.”
Smalls’ had long stopped feeling any sensation of hunger, but the reminder of food made his mouth water.
“No one enters unless Lord Rake gives the word.” Pacer said gruffly, nodding to a rabbit behind him, who ran into the cave mouth.
Smalls bristled at Pacer’s words. “How long has that been the law?” He asked, annoyance permeating his voice.
“Since our most recent betrayals.” Pacer replied, eyes boring into Smalls. “It’s hard to trust anyone, regardless of their family connections.”
Smalls’ eyes narrowed, but he said nothing more. If you only knew.
“It’s an evil age when old friends aren’t welcomed quickly.” Wilfred said. “But I understand your caution.”
Well, I don’t, Smalls thought irritably, There isn’t any reason. Wilfred’s never done anything but serve the cause and the crown.
Smalls turned at the sound of footsteps, and out of the cave appeared Lord Rake. Smalls had never met him, well, not within his memory, but he knew that Rake had been part of the committee that had organized the hiding of King Jupiter’s children. So, Rake certainly knew who Smalls was. Rake didn’t let this on; in fact, he thoroughly ignored Smalls. He embraced Wilfred.
“I’m so glad to see you. You are very welcome, friends.” He said, nodding to Pacer, who bowed, saluted sharply, and took a quick step back into formation.
“Thank you, lord.” Wilfred said. “Lord Rake, may I introduce my niece and nephew, Heather and Picket?”
Rake looked past Wilfred to see Heather and Picket. “I am delighted to meet you both.”
Doubtful. Picket’s in his worst mood yet.
“All that I have is at your disposal. I see you are injured, Picket. Pacer, please send someone for Emma.” He paused, “And Gort as well while he’s at it.” Rake turned back to Wilfred and raised an eyebrow in an expression that seemed to say; Explanation?
"And this is my son, Smalls.” Wilfred responded.
Rake nodded, and there was a vague amused look in his eyes that made Smalls like him despite his skepticism of nobility in general. “Smalls,” He paused, scrutinized Smalls, “It’s my pleasure to meet you.” He, at least, sounded genuine. That was more than Smalls could say for a lot of people.
“I’m sorry to cut the introductions short, Lord Rake, but is Tommy Decker here? The landing is destroyed, and there are wolves down there.”
Rake’s smile vanished.
Oh no.
“Decker’s gone. He sent a message to us, but he didn’t make it. The wolves-” He didn’t have to finish. They all knew what had happened. And it was devastating.
Decker gone or carried off? Two raids within twenty-four hours? What’s changed so soon? It had been bad six months ago. It had always been bad. But overnight things had gone from manageable to wildly out-of-control. Decker’s Landing was only ten miles off from Cloud Mountain. That wasn’t far. In fact, it had suddenly become far too close. And besides that-besides that, Decker had been Wilfred’s friend. He had been many rabbits’ friend. Wilfred had lost much in the previous few days. Smalls laid a hand on his shoulder.
Everyone bowed their heads, and a long moment passed before Wilfred lifted his. He met Smalls’ gaze, and then said in a loud, hoarse voice,
“It will not be so in the mended wood.” A chorus of voice and raised fists followed-
“The Mended Wood!” And Smalls felt the chain underneath his jerkin grow heavy with the weight of the whole world’s hopes and woes.