A Living Rose, Part 02, Back to Noonvale
Martin bowed his head, kissing Rose. Brome covered his mouth with his paws to stop himself laughing. Tears were running down his mother's face unchecked, and his father was smiling fit to burst.
Rose laughed at Ballaw's antics. The hare had accidentally tripped, landing in the salad bowl.
"What a waste of good salad!" shouted Brome teasingly.
"No waste, old lad, just a touch of pepper here and there and it'll be right as rain, doncha know? Waste not, want not, that's what I always say, wot, wot?"
"Yes, sir."
"No need for that, old chap. Sir's all right for the jolly old fighting hares, but not for a bally professional acting hare like me. Sir Ballaw De Quincewold suits me, though, doncha think?"
Noonvale.
Must get to Noonvale.
Noonvale is the key.
Who am I?
The sounds of laughter reached the squirrel's sharp ears. He made his way towards it.
"Felldoh!"
The squirrel looked up.
"Felldooooh!"
It was a healer mouse. The squirrel looked slightly puzzled.
"Me?"
"Yes, you, you idiot."
The squirrel raced towards the healer mouse. He stood before him like an anxious child.
"I don't know who I am. Is this Noonvale? Something told me that Noonvale was the key to my past life, or something like that."
The healer mouse looked at him.
"You seriously can't remember who you are?"
"Yes."
"All right."
The mouse pulled some herbs from his pack. Crushing them together, he fed them to the squirrel, who pulled a face as he swallowed them quickly, wincing at the sour taste.
"Ever tried any of these herbs yourself?"
"No, mate. Wouldn't dream of it. Much more fun to feed them to my friends."
The squirrel's eyes went vacant. Dreamily he spoke.
"I am Felldoh -- Badrang! Must kill Badrang. Beat him to death, giving him the same beatings I had when I was far, far younger.
"Brome doesn't like killing. He can't understand how I do it so matter-of-factly. I used to be like him. Sometimes I wish I still was. Or at least like Martin, who can, but won't, unless it's in a battle. Then we kill everything in sight -- well, we can usually keep our allies in perspective.
"I will kill Badrang -- if he's not dead already from my beatings. Perhaps I should use the other end of the javelin to finish him off.
"He is calling for Marshank to help him. I kill whoever I can, but Badrang has disappeared, the coward. Everything goes black.
"I wake on the edge of a steep cliff. Involuntarily, I shiver, thinking of what could have happened. But everything before that is blackness, just blackness. Only Noonvale stands out like a beacon, shining in the darkness.
"I bandage my wounds, knowing the skills, but not knowing where I learnt them. I make my way to Noonvale, helped by other creatures, who give me food, and sometimes a bed. Directions are more important, I think. But Noonvale … Noonvale … I will get there someday. Someday soon."
Brome nodded as he finished his story.
"Felldoh, welcome back. To Noonvale."
Felldoh jumped up. "What's all the feasting about?"
"Oh, that … you won't believe it. Then again, it was you who guessed first, perhaps. You know, 'aye, and you're Martin. I'm Felldoh, that'n over there is Brome, and the beast whose head you're standing on is Grumm.' Or words to that effect."
"Come again?"
"Wedding celebrations!"
"Martin?"
"Yes!"
Brome rolled about in the grass, unleashing the mirth that he had kept bottled up for more than an hour.
"Martin and -- "
"Think, Felldoh. Think back. We were separated on the journey here, remember? Me and you were together, and Grumm, Martin, and Rose were together."
"No … "
"Yep!"
Felldoh burst out laughing. The laughter carried up the hill to where Martin, Rose and Barkjon were.
"Somebeast's laughing like a maniac," observed Martin.
"Sounds like me," responded Barkjon. "But it's probably Brome."
Rose raised her eyebrows.
"Thank you."
"It doesn't sound like you, Rose," intervened Martin quickly. "It sounds like a mixture of Brome and Barkjon -- or Felldoh."
"We always did sound rather similar," admitted Barkjon.
"Let's go and see, shall we?" said Rose, getting up. Martin followed her, glancing around.
Barkjon sprang after them, and caught up easily.
"Still life in the old squirrel yet," he remarked.
"You're not that old, Dad," replied a voice from above them. They looked up and Felldoh grinned down at them.
"Hello, Dad. Hello, Martin. Hello, Rose. I hear that you two are the cause of the feasting going on up there. May I join them?"
"You always did think of your stomach before anything else," mused Martin.
"Not true. But I haven't eaten in two days. Please?"
"Who's stopping you? Oh, and Brome, where did your foxglove petals go? We found your pack of herbs, and they were missing."
Felldoh stared at Brome.
"What did you just feed me?"
"I found him a couple of minutes ago. He couldn't remember anything about us, Marshank, Badrang … the whole palaver was gone. All he had left was get to Noonvale. Noonvale is the key," explained Brome quietly.
"I thought it wasn't in character for Felldoh to miss a chance of wiping out Marshank," retorted Martin.
"Ah. That is true. But Brome just told you why. So you managed to kill Badrang?"
"Yes. Rose tried as well."
"But he threw me aside like I was a rag doll," said Rose disgustedly.
"And you have since got married?" said Felldoh slyly.
"Felldoh, I think you have got young Brome into a spot of bother," observed Barkjon. "So I think you had better disappear for a short while. Perhaps you may like to go up to the feast?"
Felldoh had vanished in the blink of an eye.
He reappeared next to Celandine. She smiled and passed him the bread, then did a complete double take.
"Felldoh?"
"Hello, Celandine."
"You're dead!"
"Yes, yes, of course I am. The bread's awfully good, can I have some more, please?"
"Is this a joke?"
"I think it is. Hahaha, it looks like it."
Celandine stared at him.
"Er -- Rowanoak?" she asked timidly.
"Yes?"
"Am I dreaming, or is Felldoh supposed to be dead?"
"There's no proof that he died," Rowanoak explained without looking at her. "He probably did -- after all, at those odds! We never found a body. I hope he survived, of course, but if he died, I hope those vermin didn't get his body. I'd hate to see what they would have done to it if they did."
"Then this must be a dream, then," said Celandine in a small voice. "Because he's sitting right next to me."
A/N: Cliffhanger! Oh, all right then.
It was the Autumn of the Nutbrown Leaves. Martin was growing restless.
"It seems strange," he answered to Rose's sympathetic questions. "But I'll be all right."
Rose felt the same. She wanted to go questing again. Finally she spoke to her father.
"I think we're all restless," she explained. "Martin and I want to go questing, Felldoh is hardly ever in the same place for a minute, Brome is moaning that he needs practice or he'll forget everything, and even Celandine says that she feels the need to jump around the place."
"I see your point," said Urran Voh. "Yes, you should all go questing, I suppose. Together, though."
"I wouldn't go otherwise," replied Rose. "I'll tell the others, then we'll go tomorrow at first light."