When they returned to Brockhall, the reunited pair were unseperable. Too many seasons had been wasted in loneliness for them to let each other out of their sight.
At first, Martin was reluctant to tell anyone about how he knew Rose of Noonvale. After a few days of endless hints and pestering from Gonff, the Warrior finally admitted something.
"She rescued me." He told Gonff when they were alone for a moment."I was a slave being punished and she rescued me.
"That pretty one?" Gonff asked incredulously.
"You should have heard her, Gonff. Never underestimate the power of a pretty voice - she could charm the stars from the sky."
Gonff looked at his friend. Though their friendship had been relatively short, he felt like he knew Martin as well as anyone. But he had never heard him talk with such admiration of amything - not even the sword which he now wore strapped to his waist.
"Do you love her?" He asked, watching the peculiar look on the Warriors face.
"I love all that's good." Martin smiled nervously and turned away, missing Gonff's smug grin. So, the Warrior had a sweetheart.
"Can we go now, old chatter whiskers?" Martin headed towards the door which would lead them into the sun. "Or do you want to stuff more scones in those pockets?"
"Honestly, don't you warrior types know anything? You can't stuff scones. They'd crumble and be no use to anyone but birds." To make his point, Gonff threw an apple in the air and caught it in his waistcoat pocket.
"Come on, you." Martin rolled his eyes playfully and stepped outside.
"So." The Theif continued, "Tell me more."
"What is there to tell?" The sun was high above them, filtering through the trees as they walked towards the picnic site. Bella had organised the day to cater for all: for the Dibbuns there was a river to play in and strawberries to eat, for the more peaceful folk there was conversation and friends, while the war minded had plans to pour over. This was what the two friends were walking towards.
"I don't know. Tell me about her."
"There's nothing to say. Not really." Martin picked up speed, eager (though he'd never admit it) to get back to Rose. Ever since they'd found each other, he'd had an anxious knot in his stomach if she wasn't within calling distance.
"Okay. What do you think is her best feature?"
Martin turned and hit his friend in the shoulder. "Gonff!"
"What did I do?" The mousethief winked, ducking anither flying paw.
"You can't ask that." They weren't far now and Martin could hear the light laughter of the woodlanders. He turned to is friend on anxious feet. "Her eyes."
Gonff sniggered as he watched Martin run away, breaking through the trees into the picnic area. He could see where his friend was coming from: the young maid did have beautiful eyes. But Gonff's eyes were on someone else at the picnic who he headed straight for.