Free The Golden Flight by Michael Tod

and Act.
     
    There was no difficulty in identifying the root cause here – it was that Hickory was a Grey. Could he trust him as one of their party?
    Rowan joined the others.
    ‘Hickory,’ he said, ‘would you wait over there. I must consult with my companions.’
    ‘Of course,’ said Hickory, ‘I understand.’
    When he was safely out of ear-twitch, Rowan spoke. ‘We can’t stay here, so until the situation becomes clearer, we must go into hiding. We will go to the Eyeland in the pool across the Great Heath. Hickory wants to come with us, even though he doesn’t know where we are going. Who has views on this?’
    He looked at Spindle who spread his paws wide and said ‘I’ve no objections. He’s always treated me well. I trust him.’
    Wood Anemone nodded her assent, as did Rosebay and Willowherb, their heads moving in unison.
    Rowan turned to Meadowsweet. ‘What do you think, Meadowsweet-mate?’ he asked.
    ‘I think you should really ask Bluebell,’ she replied and Rowan looked at her quizzically. Was something going on here he did not know about? He turned to his daughter.
    ‘Bluebell?’
    ‘Hickory has asked me to be his life-mate,’ she blurted out. ‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it, but the time has never been right. I do love him, Rowan-Pa.’
    A host of queries poured through Rowan’s brain, but there was no time to consider them now. One thing was clear though – they all seemed to think that Hickory could be trusted to be on their side in any confrontation.
    ‘We’ll have to discuss that later,’ he said. ‘I take it then that we are unanimous; Hickory comes with us.’
    Rowan signalled to Hickory, who came bounding over.
    ‘You can come with us. There are other matters to discuss, but they can wait. Now we will make for a safe place and see what develops. Follow me, all of you.’
    He headed off towards the Hazel Copse and the Dogleg Field.
    The sun was high and the air was warm when they reached the trees whose lower branches spread out over the field. The horses were standing close together, resting in the shade. They were facing the opposite directions, each flicking its tail to keep the flies off the other’s head.
    ‘If we go straight across the field and we are followed, our scent will give us away, we’d better lay some false trails.’
    They were discussing who was to go in which direction and where they were to meet, when Meadowsweet called to Rowan.
    ‘Do you remember Tansy telling us how she came across the harbour on a deer’s antler?’ she asked. He nodded.
    ‘Well, humans keep horses so that they can travel about the country sitting on their backs. Why can’t squirrels ride on horses?’
    Rowan looked at the horses below. What would they do if squirrels dropped on to them unexpectedly? But it was a splendidly original idea – worthy of Zander the Great.
    ‘We’ll try it,’ he said. ‘We won’t leave any scent trails that way. That’ll fool those Sun-damned Greys.’ Then, seeing Hickory wince, he added, ‘Sorry – present company excepted.’
    The horses had long tails, and manes of coarse hair on the top of their necks and tassels of hair hanging between their eyes.
    ‘Aim for the neck of the chestnut-coloured one. Drop and cling on when I say ‘Go’. I expect them to run off when we do that. Then, when I say ‘Jump,’ leap off and follow me.’
    They all climbed down through the branches until they were just above the horses. They paused there, listening to the gentle snorting noises that the horses made as they communed with one another. Rowan signalled the squirrels to line up on a branch just above the chestnut coloured one.
    ‘Go,’ he said. ‘Go now!’ and they dropped, each scrabbling for a hold, the unfamiliar smell of horse strong in their nostrils.
    The dozing animal reared unexpectedly and Rosebay and Willowherb, who had not yet got their claws into the security of the mane, slid down the horse’s back, unable to grip the