Captain Holly's Last Command (Watership Down)
This story was written for TBAvakian, for the "Sweet Charity" auction. The request was for a story featuring Holly and Fiver.
Fandom: Watership Down
Title: Captain Holly's Last Command
Word Count: 2600
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Set post-novel.
Synopsis: Holly gets a visitor.
Holly pawed aside a clump of dead grass. It rolled over and came to rest on its side, exposing brittle roots. The worst damage to the warren from General Woundwort’s attack had been repaired, but the aftermath was visible in the form of half-dug holes, torn-up patches of earth, and the occasional fragment of bone. He nibbled on the new growth he had uncovered.
“There’s someone here to see you.”
Holly was surprised when Fiver spoke, though he had sensed Fiver’s approach. Rabbits have an awareness of their surroundings that is denied to humans; even a fox or a stoat must use all their natural wiles to sneak up one. Though Holly had not been paying any special attention, he had noticed Fiver at silflay nearby, noticed him vanishing over the ridge, and noticed his return, even as he knew where the other rabbits were, and that this evening was cooler than the one the day before, and that the shadow that streaked across the down was cast by a harmless swift. But Fiver had grown strange and silent since the battle, and rarely addressed anyone but Hazel or Vilthuril, the Efrafan doe.
Holly glanced around. No one seemed to be waiting for his attention. “Where?”
“This way.” Fiver headed back toward the ridge.
After a moment’s confusion, Holly hurried to catch up. More to the point, he asked, “Who is it?”
Fiver paused beside a box shrub. The shadow of leaves flickered across his face as a breeze gusted, and quivered into stillness as it died down. “He didn’t tell me his name.”
Bigwig might have snapped impatiently at Fiver. Hazel might have calmly drawn him out. Holly, though puzzled, let Fiver continue on his journey without further questions. Perhaps it was another envoy from Campion, though it was odd that he had stopped outside of the warren. But the visitor must be an Efrafan, for what other rabbit strange to Fiver could know Holly’s name?
The thought came to Holly’s mind that there was one who would. Thlayli had taken Holly himself for the Black Rabbit when he had staggered up to the down after the destruction of the Sandleford warren, crying out Thlayli’s name. But though Holly had seen many things that were not part of the natural world of silflay and elil and chewing pellets, that world was the one he lived in, and it was natural dangers that concerned him. He turned to Fiver.
“If it’s an ambush, run back to the warren and warn everyone. I’ll stay and delay them.”
Holly flexed his claws into the powdery earth. Though he didn’t relish the prospect of another fight, he’d had time to recover from the last one, and he felt strong and ready.
Fiver nosed at a fragrant sprig of thyme before he answered. “If it’s an ambush, I’ll go.”
Fiver then proceeded straight down the slope without once sniffing the air or pausing to consider the entire scene. Holly looked and listened and smelled for him, so if any danger arose he could protect his companion.
The rabbit who waited for them at the edge of the forest at the base of the down was smaller than Holly but considerably larger than Fiver, and had a distinctive black patch covering his right eye and much of his ear. Even without that, Holly would have known him immediately. He was a rabbit Holly knew well, and one he had never expected to see again. It was Darnel of the Sandleford Owsla.
“Captain,” said Darnel. “I knew I’d find you.”
Holly hopped forward to sniff at him in greeting, as they’d done so many times in another warren long ago. Darnel smelled like primroses and oak-roots and moist black earth. In this land of tall spindly weeds and crumbling brown dirt, he still smelled like Sandleford. He was at once as familiar and alien to Holly as the words of a native tongue long since abandoned by its speaker for the language of some foreign shore.
“Follow me, sir,” said Darnel.
“Where--?” began Holly. But Darnel had already turned and pushed his way through the undergrowth.
Holly hurried to catch up. They fell into a companionable rhythm, only different from their old patrols in that Darnel was leading the way. He had been a good officer, loyal and calm. If he was somewhat over-serious, the same could be said of Holly himself. Holly wondered how Darnel had escaped the destruction of Sandleford and how he had made his way to Watership Down after such a long delay. But he wasn’t eager to hurry the revelation of some terrible story that he was sure to hear soon enough. What mattered was that Darnel was here now.
“The last time I saw you, we were trying to arrest this lot.” Holly turned his nose toward Fiver, who was lagging behind. “Thlayli pinned me down in a patch of buttercups, do you remember? I had to groom forever to get the smell of the sap out of my fur. And now he’s captain of the Owsla here.”
“Thlayli is?” asked Darnel dubiously. “Did he fight you, sir?”
“No. Though I’m not sure he wouldn’t have won,” admitted Holly. “He was already doing the job when I got here.”
“Bit of a hothead, isn’t he?” said Darnel. “Very strong, of course. But…”
“He’s not so bad,” said Holly. “Wait till you get to our warren. We have some fine new stories to tell.”
The three rabbits were in thick underbrush now. Gnarled tree roots pushed up from the soft earth, and the air vibrated with swarms of gnats. Fiver sneezed.
“That wasn’t the last time you saw me, sir,” said Darnel softly. “On the very last day, you gave me a command.”
“I did?” Holly had no recollection of it.
“Yes, sir. You told me to guard the warren. Same as usual, but I could see you were worried about the men you’d seen and the warning we’d had.”
“I remember now.” Holly also remembered Darnel’s sense of diligence, unusual even in the Owsla. Though he occasionally interpreted orders to his own liking, he would not rest until he’d fulfilled whatever he perceived as his duty.
“There was nothing you could have done,” said Holly. “I couldn’t do anything either. When I gave you that command, I had no idea what would happen. There was no way for you to obey.”
“But I did obey.”
“What?”
“I did the best I could. I could only get four out, and the men shot three of them. Briony was the only one who made it out of the field. She was close to her time, so she dug a burrow in the woods so she could bear her litter. Then we waited for the kits to get old enough to travel. Rabbits need a warren, and all the survivors were scattered. So we came here. I guarded them all the way.”
The rabbits could now smell the copper tang of fresh blood. They slowed their approach, sniffing and glancing about warily for the Thousand that would surely be attracted. They followed the scent to the base of an old oak where a very young rabbit lay kicking and struggling. Her front leg was stuck in the narrow space where an exposed root had split, and she’d torn her flesh in her attempt to escape.
A doe crouched beside her, gnawing away at the root. If Darnel hadn’t said which rabbit had survived, Holly would not have recognized her. The Briony he remembered was a plump, soft-furred doe whose eagerness to go on farm raids he’d attributed more to a taste for lettuce than adventure. This doe was lean and scarred. Her wild eyes glared from fur speckled with her kitten’s blood.
“Don’t just stand there,” she commanded. “Help me gnaw this root!”
Holly and Fiver began to gnaw. Dry bark showered into Holly’s mouth and half-choked him, and the wood beneath was nearly as hard as stone. The trapped rabbit kept thrashing about, jostling her would-be rescuers, but time spent trying to calm her was time lost from trying to free her.
“Don’t fight.” Darnel hopped on to the root to press himself against the young rabbit’s body. “We can get you out faster if you don’t move.”
The contact as much as the words seemed to calm the little rabbit. She lay still, panting, until their combined efforts freed her.
“I never knew oak trees could be one of the Thousand,” remarked Holly. “You’ve got a lot of learning to do, youngster.”
The young rabbit blinked, then began washing her whiskers in embarrassment. Briony licked at her young one’s injured leg, then looked up at Holly as if seeing him for the first time. “Captain Holly? I thought you’d stopped running.”
“No- and there’s more from Sandleford with me. We have a fine warren up on the down. You’re welcome to join us. Are there any more kittens?”
“I’m not a kitten!” squeaked the young rabbit. “And my name is Linden.”
“Call them out,” said Holly. “We’ll take you to our warren.”
Briony stamped, and three more small rabbits emerged from hiding. “Foxtail, Rowan, and Sorrel,” she introduced them. “Captain Holly and… Hazel’s brother?”
“Fiver,” said Fiver.
“I’m almost bigger than you,” said Linden.
Briony cuffed her. “Be polite.”
They began the journey back up to the down. It was slow going, and Briony lagged behind to chivy on the wounded Linden and the short-legged young ones. Holly, Fiver, and Darnel reached the ridge ahead of them, and turned back to watch their progress.
“They’ll be safe soon,” said Darnel. “Captain Holly, will you come with me?”
Fiver’s ears twitched upward and stayed there, quivering with alertness. “No. He can’t.”
Holly looked from one to the other in confusion. “We’re all going to the same place.”
“I’m not coming to the warren,” said Darnel. As Holly stared at him in surprise, he explained, “Thlayli’s captain of Owsla. I don’t think I could take orders from anyone but you.”
Holly didn’t recall Darnel having any particular quarrel with Bigwig, but he did remember how determined Darnel could be once he got an idea into his head. “You can take your orders from me. We’re not very particular about rank here.”
Darnel glanced down at Briony and her kittens. “I’ve still got work to do. I haven’t carried out your last command.”
“Of course you have,” said Holly. “You got a doe and four kittens here. That’s more than I managed. You did well. You did enough.”
“No, sir,” said Darnel stubbornly. “ ‘Guard the warren,’ you said. There might be others who are lost and wandering. Let’s go find them. ”
It had not occurred to Holly before that they might return to Sandleford. His fur bristled in horror at the memory of the ruined earth where there had once been a thriving warren. And how could they ever find what few rabbits had survived, after all this time? But he also remembered the rabbits he had left behind in the woods, never thinking to search for them: Nose-in-the-Air and Pine Needles, Butterbur and Ash. If they hadn’t stopped running, might they still be searching for a home?
“Our job isn’t done,” continued Darnel. “Come with me. We can do it, sir.”
Fiver pushed between them. “You can’t go with him, Holly.”
“Why not?” Holly was suddenly fed up with Fiver and his unexplained pronouncements and carelessness and need for protection. Darnel was straightforward, competent, and could fight by Holly’s side. He’d been one of Holly’s best officers. It would be good to go on patrol with him again.
“Briony?” called Fiver. The doe was almost at the ridge. “What happened to Darnel?”
Briony used her nose to shove Linden to the top. The young rabbits fell in a heap, panting. Then she looked up at Fiver. Her eyes were as wide and haunted as Bluebell’s had been when he told the story of his escape from Sandleford, as Holly’s own must have been.
“He saved my life,” she said. “I collapsed in the burrow when the air went bad. He was behind me, and he shoved me and scratched me and bit me until I got up and ran out into the field. There were others who got out too, but men shot all the rest. I was the only one who reached the woods.”
“With Darnel,” said Holly.
“No, he went back into the burrow.”
“He went back?”
“Maybe he was frightened by the guns. Or maybe the poison air got to him and he didn’t know what he was doing.”
Darnel said, “I knew what I was doing.”
Holly realized then that Briony had never looked at Darnel, not once. Nor had any of the youngsters, who were now beginning to revive and to nibble on grass and clover.
“Does it matter?” asked Briony. “He never came out. He stopped running.”
“Only in this world,” said Fiver.
Briony gave him a strange look. “Where else could he be?”
Holly, feeling desperately out of his depth, said, “You rest here for a moment. I… er… need to talk to Fiver.”
He went behind a spindly thorn tree, accompanied by Fiver. Darnel followed. Holly breathed in his scent of old times and lost places, and tried not to look to see if Darnel’s weight bent the grass beneath him.
Fiver stood before Holly and Darnel like a captain addressing his Owsla. “Darnel, Holly can’t walk the path you traveled, though he might die trying. Holly, he came for you. You’re his captain. You need to give him another command.”
“I’ll do whatever you say, sir,” said Darnel immediately.
“Will you?” asked Holly. “I already released you from your duty. You argued with me.”
Darnel scuffled his paws in the drying grass. It made no sound. “I’ll obey if you order me again. If you’re sure that’s what you want.”
“Your last command is holding him here, trapped between worlds,” said Fiver. “He can’t get to the other world until you order him to go.”
“That’s not why he’s here,” said Holly. “He knows what he’s doing.”
He turned to Darnel. “Sorry about that. Fiver can see things that you and I can’t, but he’s never been in an Owsla- he doesn’t understand. You’re doing good work. Carry on.”
“Yes, sir.” From the satisfaction in Darnel’s tone, Holly knew he wouldn’t get any more arguments. “You will join me someday, won’t you, captain?”
Fiver leaned forward as if to answer for Holly, but checked himself.
“I have my own duty here,” replied Holly. “But I’ll come find you when I’m finished with that. I promise.”
“Thank you, sir. Good-bye.” Darnel loped up to the ridge, paused to nuzzle the squeaking tangle of young rabbits, and vanished over the edge.
“I was only trying to protect you,” said Fiver.
“You did,” said Holly. “You did well. Want to join the Owsla?”
A glint of humor shone in Fiver’s eyes, the first since the battle. “I can barely even tell which world I’m in anymore. I’d never be able to figure out when to put ‘sir’ in a sentence.”
Fiver and Holly headed back to the ridge and helped Briony roust her young ones from their tussle, which Linden seemed to be on the way to winning despite her injury. A few buttercups had been crushed beneath them, and the acrid smell of their sap mingled with the warm scent of the grass on the down. The silflaying rabbits ran to greet them, friends and newcomers both, as they came into sight of home.
Fandom: Watership Down
Title: Captain Holly's Last Command
Word Count: 2600
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Set post-novel.
Synopsis: Holly gets a visitor.
Holly pawed aside a clump of dead grass. It rolled over and came to rest on its side, exposing brittle roots. The worst damage to the warren from General Woundwort’s attack had been repaired, but the aftermath was visible in the form of half-dug holes, torn-up patches of earth, and the occasional fragment of bone. He nibbled on the new growth he had uncovered.
“There’s someone here to see you.”
Holly was surprised when Fiver spoke, though he had sensed Fiver’s approach. Rabbits have an awareness of their surroundings that is denied to humans; even a fox or a stoat must use all their natural wiles to sneak up one. Though Holly had not been paying any special attention, he had noticed Fiver at silflay nearby, noticed him vanishing over the ridge, and noticed his return, even as he knew where the other rabbits were, and that this evening was cooler than the one the day before, and that the shadow that streaked across the down was cast by a harmless swift. But Fiver had grown strange and silent since the battle, and rarely addressed anyone but Hazel or Vilthuril, the Efrafan doe.
Holly glanced around. No one seemed to be waiting for his attention. “Where?”
“This way.” Fiver headed back toward the ridge.
After a moment’s confusion, Holly hurried to catch up. More to the point, he asked, “Who is it?”
Fiver paused beside a box shrub. The shadow of leaves flickered across his face as a breeze gusted, and quivered into stillness as it died down. “He didn’t tell me his name.”
Bigwig might have snapped impatiently at Fiver. Hazel might have calmly drawn him out. Holly, though puzzled, let Fiver continue on his journey without further questions. Perhaps it was another envoy from Campion, though it was odd that he had stopped outside of the warren. But the visitor must be an Efrafan, for what other rabbit strange to Fiver could know Holly’s name?
The thought came to Holly’s mind that there was one who would. Thlayli had taken Holly himself for the Black Rabbit when he had staggered up to the down after the destruction of the Sandleford warren, crying out Thlayli’s name. But though Holly had seen many things that were not part of the natural world of silflay and elil and chewing pellets, that world was the one he lived in, and it was natural dangers that concerned him. He turned to Fiver.
“If it’s an ambush, run back to the warren and warn everyone. I’ll stay and delay them.”
Holly flexed his claws into the powdery earth. Though he didn’t relish the prospect of another fight, he’d had time to recover from the last one, and he felt strong and ready.
Fiver nosed at a fragrant sprig of thyme before he answered. “If it’s an ambush, I’ll go.”
Fiver then proceeded straight down the slope without once sniffing the air or pausing to consider the entire scene. Holly looked and listened and smelled for him, so if any danger arose he could protect his companion.
The rabbit who waited for them at the edge of the forest at the base of the down was smaller than Holly but considerably larger than Fiver, and had a distinctive black patch covering his right eye and much of his ear. Even without that, Holly would have known him immediately. He was a rabbit Holly knew well, and one he had never expected to see again. It was Darnel of the Sandleford Owsla.
“Captain,” said Darnel. “I knew I’d find you.”
Holly hopped forward to sniff at him in greeting, as they’d done so many times in another warren long ago. Darnel smelled like primroses and oak-roots and moist black earth. In this land of tall spindly weeds and crumbling brown dirt, he still smelled like Sandleford. He was at once as familiar and alien to Holly as the words of a native tongue long since abandoned by its speaker for the language of some foreign shore.
“Follow me, sir,” said Darnel.
“Where--?” began Holly. But Darnel had already turned and pushed his way through the undergrowth.
Holly hurried to catch up. They fell into a companionable rhythm, only different from their old patrols in that Darnel was leading the way. He had been a good officer, loyal and calm. If he was somewhat over-serious, the same could be said of Holly himself. Holly wondered how Darnel had escaped the destruction of Sandleford and how he had made his way to Watership Down after such a long delay. But he wasn’t eager to hurry the revelation of some terrible story that he was sure to hear soon enough. What mattered was that Darnel was here now.
“The last time I saw you, we were trying to arrest this lot.” Holly turned his nose toward Fiver, who was lagging behind. “Thlayli pinned me down in a patch of buttercups, do you remember? I had to groom forever to get the smell of the sap out of my fur. And now he’s captain of the Owsla here.”
“Thlayli is?” asked Darnel dubiously. “Did he fight you, sir?”
“No. Though I’m not sure he wouldn’t have won,” admitted Holly. “He was already doing the job when I got here.”
“Bit of a hothead, isn’t he?” said Darnel. “Very strong, of course. But…”
“He’s not so bad,” said Holly. “Wait till you get to our warren. We have some fine new stories to tell.”
The three rabbits were in thick underbrush now. Gnarled tree roots pushed up from the soft earth, and the air vibrated with swarms of gnats. Fiver sneezed.
“That wasn’t the last time you saw me, sir,” said Darnel softly. “On the very last day, you gave me a command.”
“I did?” Holly had no recollection of it.
“Yes, sir. You told me to guard the warren. Same as usual, but I could see you were worried about the men you’d seen and the warning we’d had.”
“I remember now.” Holly also remembered Darnel’s sense of diligence, unusual even in the Owsla. Though he occasionally interpreted orders to his own liking, he would not rest until he’d fulfilled whatever he perceived as his duty.
“There was nothing you could have done,” said Holly. “I couldn’t do anything either. When I gave you that command, I had no idea what would happen. There was no way for you to obey.”
“But I did obey.”
“What?”
“I did the best I could. I could only get four out, and the men shot three of them. Briony was the only one who made it out of the field. She was close to her time, so she dug a burrow in the woods so she could bear her litter. Then we waited for the kits to get old enough to travel. Rabbits need a warren, and all the survivors were scattered. So we came here. I guarded them all the way.”
The rabbits could now smell the copper tang of fresh blood. They slowed their approach, sniffing and glancing about warily for the Thousand that would surely be attracted. They followed the scent to the base of an old oak where a very young rabbit lay kicking and struggling. Her front leg was stuck in the narrow space where an exposed root had split, and she’d torn her flesh in her attempt to escape.
A doe crouched beside her, gnawing away at the root. If Darnel hadn’t said which rabbit had survived, Holly would not have recognized her. The Briony he remembered was a plump, soft-furred doe whose eagerness to go on farm raids he’d attributed more to a taste for lettuce than adventure. This doe was lean and scarred. Her wild eyes glared from fur speckled with her kitten’s blood.
“Don’t just stand there,” she commanded. “Help me gnaw this root!”
Holly and Fiver began to gnaw. Dry bark showered into Holly’s mouth and half-choked him, and the wood beneath was nearly as hard as stone. The trapped rabbit kept thrashing about, jostling her would-be rescuers, but time spent trying to calm her was time lost from trying to free her.
“Don’t fight.” Darnel hopped on to the root to press himself against the young rabbit’s body. “We can get you out faster if you don’t move.”
The contact as much as the words seemed to calm the little rabbit. She lay still, panting, until their combined efforts freed her.
“I never knew oak trees could be one of the Thousand,” remarked Holly. “You’ve got a lot of learning to do, youngster.”
The young rabbit blinked, then began washing her whiskers in embarrassment. Briony licked at her young one’s injured leg, then looked up at Holly as if seeing him for the first time. “Captain Holly? I thought you’d stopped running.”
“No- and there’s more from Sandleford with me. We have a fine warren up on the down. You’re welcome to join us. Are there any more kittens?”
“I’m not a kitten!” squeaked the young rabbit. “And my name is Linden.”
“Call them out,” said Holly. “We’ll take you to our warren.”
Briony stamped, and three more small rabbits emerged from hiding. “Foxtail, Rowan, and Sorrel,” she introduced them. “Captain Holly and… Hazel’s brother?”
“Fiver,” said Fiver.
“I’m almost bigger than you,” said Linden.
Briony cuffed her. “Be polite.”
They began the journey back up to the down. It was slow going, and Briony lagged behind to chivy on the wounded Linden and the short-legged young ones. Holly, Fiver, and Darnel reached the ridge ahead of them, and turned back to watch their progress.
“They’ll be safe soon,” said Darnel. “Captain Holly, will you come with me?”
Fiver’s ears twitched upward and stayed there, quivering with alertness. “No. He can’t.”
Holly looked from one to the other in confusion. “We’re all going to the same place.”
“I’m not coming to the warren,” said Darnel. As Holly stared at him in surprise, he explained, “Thlayli’s captain of Owsla. I don’t think I could take orders from anyone but you.”
Holly didn’t recall Darnel having any particular quarrel with Bigwig, but he did remember how determined Darnel could be once he got an idea into his head. “You can take your orders from me. We’re not very particular about rank here.”
Darnel glanced down at Briony and her kittens. “I’ve still got work to do. I haven’t carried out your last command.”
“Of course you have,” said Holly. “You got a doe and four kittens here. That’s more than I managed. You did well. You did enough.”
“No, sir,” said Darnel stubbornly. “ ‘Guard the warren,’ you said. There might be others who are lost and wandering. Let’s go find them. ”
It had not occurred to Holly before that they might return to Sandleford. His fur bristled in horror at the memory of the ruined earth where there had once been a thriving warren. And how could they ever find what few rabbits had survived, after all this time? But he also remembered the rabbits he had left behind in the woods, never thinking to search for them: Nose-in-the-Air and Pine Needles, Butterbur and Ash. If they hadn’t stopped running, might they still be searching for a home?
“Our job isn’t done,” continued Darnel. “Come with me. We can do it, sir.”
Fiver pushed between them. “You can’t go with him, Holly.”
“Why not?” Holly was suddenly fed up with Fiver and his unexplained pronouncements and carelessness and need for protection. Darnel was straightforward, competent, and could fight by Holly’s side. He’d been one of Holly’s best officers. It would be good to go on patrol with him again.
“Briony?” called Fiver. The doe was almost at the ridge. “What happened to Darnel?”
Briony used her nose to shove Linden to the top. The young rabbits fell in a heap, panting. Then she looked up at Fiver. Her eyes were as wide and haunted as Bluebell’s had been when he told the story of his escape from Sandleford, as Holly’s own must have been.
“He saved my life,” she said. “I collapsed in the burrow when the air went bad. He was behind me, and he shoved me and scratched me and bit me until I got up and ran out into the field. There were others who got out too, but men shot all the rest. I was the only one who reached the woods.”
“With Darnel,” said Holly.
“No, he went back into the burrow.”
“He went back?”
“Maybe he was frightened by the guns. Or maybe the poison air got to him and he didn’t know what he was doing.”
Darnel said, “I knew what I was doing.”
Holly realized then that Briony had never looked at Darnel, not once. Nor had any of the youngsters, who were now beginning to revive and to nibble on grass and clover.
“Does it matter?” asked Briony. “He never came out. He stopped running.”
“Only in this world,” said Fiver.
Briony gave him a strange look. “Where else could he be?”
Holly, feeling desperately out of his depth, said, “You rest here for a moment. I… er… need to talk to Fiver.”
He went behind a spindly thorn tree, accompanied by Fiver. Darnel followed. Holly breathed in his scent of old times and lost places, and tried not to look to see if Darnel’s weight bent the grass beneath him.
Fiver stood before Holly and Darnel like a captain addressing his Owsla. “Darnel, Holly can’t walk the path you traveled, though he might die trying. Holly, he came for you. You’re his captain. You need to give him another command.”
“I’ll do whatever you say, sir,” said Darnel immediately.
“Will you?” asked Holly. “I already released you from your duty. You argued with me.”
Darnel scuffled his paws in the drying grass. It made no sound. “I’ll obey if you order me again. If you’re sure that’s what you want.”
“Your last command is holding him here, trapped between worlds,” said Fiver. “He can’t get to the other world until you order him to go.”
“That’s not why he’s here,” said Holly. “He knows what he’s doing.”
He turned to Darnel. “Sorry about that. Fiver can see things that you and I can’t, but he’s never been in an Owsla- he doesn’t understand. You’re doing good work. Carry on.”
“Yes, sir.” From the satisfaction in Darnel’s tone, Holly knew he wouldn’t get any more arguments. “You will join me someday, won’t you, captain?”
Fiver leaned forward as if to answer for Holly, but checked himself.
“I have my own duty here,” replied Holly. “But I’ll come find you when I’m finished with that. I promise.”
“Thank you, sir. Good-bye.” Darnel loped up to the ridge, paused to nuzzle the squeaking tangle of young rabbits, and vanished over the edge.
“I was only trying to protect you,” said Fiver.
“You did,” said Holly. “You did well. Want to join the Owsla?”
A glint of humor shone in Fiver’s eyes, the first since the battle. “I can barely even tell which world I’m in anymore. I’d never be able to figure out when to put ‘sir’ in a sentence.”
Fiver and Holly headed back to the ridge and helped Briony roust her young ones from their tussle, which Linden seemed to be on the way to winning despite her injury. A few buttercups had been crushed beneath them, and the acrid smell of their sap mingled with the warm scent of the grass on the down. The silflaying rabbits ran to greet them, friends and newcomers both, as they came into sight of home.