Nemeth crouched thoughtfully by the base of the tree, adding small twigs to the pile of dried moss-fuzz and half-dried bark pieces. He pulled some brownish-green leafy-looking bundles and some sprigs of herbs out of his pack, and added them to the top of the pile.

"What are those?" asked Farinka.

"Hops and valerian. Makes them sleepier than just smoke alone."

"Does it work?"

"Pretty well. I'm hoping it will, anyway, as it's me that's most likely to catch it if it doesn't." Tarke and Sherath returned with armfuls of fresh green grass and moss which they placed over the top of the pile. Nemeth tented over the top with an old sooty deerskin, tying it round the trunk of the tree so that it reached just over the wide crack where the root-buttresses met. He struck a spark into the base of the pile, blowing until it sprang into flame, and then weighted the deerskin down with stones, leaving a small drawhole at one side.

"The whole tree is hollow," he explained to Farinka. "It acts like a chimney. Pulls the smoke right up between the combs. The bees are pretty dozy at this time of day anyway. A lot will fall down inside the tree, and whatever's left crawling on the combs will be fairly easy to handle." He sat back on his heels, looking up the trunk of the tree. "See up there? That's the top of the chimney."

Smoke had already started to come out in thin wisps from a big hole about twenty feet up the tree; the wisps turned into a steady stream as they watched.

"Keep right away from the tree, Domina – don't even touch it. The whole trunk would amplify even the smallest vibration – and that would wake the bees up quite quickly. Noise doesn't bother them much – vibration does."

"How are you going to get the combs out?"

"From the top. That hole's quite big, and the combs are likely to be within easy reach."

"Won't climbing up cause vibration?"

"It would. Which is why I'm going up the horse chestnut there and then across. They don't expect to be raided from the top, and any movement up there would be like wind movement rather than honey-raider movement." He stood up, picking up two hide sacks and tying them round his waist with a long coil of thin rope, then headed over to the horse chestnut tree.

Four pairs of eyes watched him climb – Moondust's nose gradually tilting upwards and his ears pricked. The branches of the two trees intermingled about thirty feet up from the forest floor, and Nemeth walked out along one, catching hold of one of the honey tree's branches with his hands and transferring himself first hand-over-hand and then swinging his legs up and over the honey tree branch until he could crawl along it. The climb ten feet down the honey tree was easy, and Nemeth came to rest astride the branch next to which the top hole of the chimney opened. He wafted smoke away from his face.

"Okay," he called down softly, "open that deerskin up so I don't get smoked out as well."

He tied the hide sacks to the branch with the rope, pulled a belt knife from its sheath, and reached carefully into the tree, linking his feet under the branch for added security.

The first sack took about ten minutes to fill, with Nemeth carefully brushing bees from each wedge of comb he pulled out and letting them fall back inside the tree. A soft humming sound was becoming audible.

"Better give them some more smoke," Nemeth called. Farinka and Sherath tented the fire again, and Nemeth edged back along the branch, tying the first sack shut and lowering it on the rope.

Clouds of smoke poured out from the top of the chimney again for a few minutes; the humming subsided gradually.

"Okay," called Nemeth, and the fire was untented again. He moved back to the hole and started to fill the second sack while Tarke untied the rope from the first sack, securing its neck instead with a short length of twine.

Moondust had wandered away from the tree, and was staring down the track towards the open ground which led down to the river, his ears pricked and his nostrils quivering. A slight breeze blew his long silvery forelock away from his eyes. He snorted, and walked down the track.

"What's he got wind of?" asked Sherath, looking at him.

"Something interesting rather than dangerous, I should say," said Farinka.

Moondust whinnied; there was an answering whinny from some distance away.

"Wild packbeast," said Tarke. "Stallion, by the sound of him." Moondust whinnied again, and trotted away.

"I hope he's not going to get into a fight," said Farinka.

"You're joking," said Sherath. "No packbeast will fight a unicorn. He's just gone to socialise."

"Do you suppose he misses the company? He's never been on his own before."

"Quite possibly." Sherath stood quiet for a moment, and then grinned. "Tarke, if we could get hold of another couple of beasts, it would solve a lot of our weight-carrying problems, wouldn't it?"

Tarke looked up. "Wouldn't it just! Do you think we can?"

"We might not be able to, but Farinka and Moondust probably could. Domina?"

Farinka looked up at him. "It's possible. He Hears me, and if they can Hear him ... yes. It could be done. We'd need colts rather than mares – strong colts."

"Why not mares?" asked Tarke.

"Because at this time of year they'd be in foal, and the foals would be due while we were travelling."

"Yes. Of course."

"And the wild stallion wouldn't mind losing a few potential rivals – whereas he might well object to being relieved of his mares," added Sherath.

"This is also true," said Farinka with a laugh.

"More smoke, please!" called Nemeth. "Now would be good!" Tarke tented the fire quickly, and Nemeth lowered the second sack, flinching occasionally. He stripped off his jacket and shook perhaps half a dozen bees out of it before dropping it to the ground.

Sherath untied the rope from the sack, and Nemeth fixed a running loop round the branch and abseiled down the tree. He untied his boots and kicked them off as soon as he hit the ground, cursing under his breath.

"Ow, nuts!"

"What, yours?" asked Sherath, laughing.

"Almost. Excuse me a moment, Domina," Nemeth said with a wry grin, stripping off his trousers and shaking another three bees out. "Vicious little devils! I'm going to take a quick plunge into the river. 'Bye!" He sprinted away down the track.

Sherath slung the honey sacks over his shoulders and set off down the track towards the river; Tarke pulled down the rope, chuckling; Farinka picked up Nemeth's clothes, and they jogged after Sherath.

The wild packbeasts were the other side of the river, milling around on a broad grassy meadow. Moondust was the centre of a great deal of attention, and there was much squealing and shoving amongst the packbeasts as they jostled for positions from which to sniff. The unicorn and the herd stallion were indulging in a mutual neck-scratching session.

– Hey, big fella! called Farinka, looking over at him. The unicorn came towards the bank of the river, looking across at the three Elves, and then rather surprisedly down into the water as Nemeth surfaced a few feet out from the bank, blowing water out of his nostrils and pushing his hair away from his eyes. Moondust snorted as Nemeth stood, water streaming off him, and walked towards the bank.

– Nemeth, we're going to try and bring a couple of packbeasts back, said Farinka. Colts. I'll try and explain to Moondust, if I can. Can you keep close to him so the others see that you're nothing to be frightened of.

– Can do. Will he let me ride him?

– Big fella? Let Nemeth up.

Moondust dipped his head, then nudged Nemeth with his muzzle, lipping at his hair.

– I think he's got the message, said Nemeth, holding onto a handful of Moondust's mane and vaulting up. Which ones do you want?

– There's a big cream dun colt which looks strong; the palomino -

– The what?

– Gold with a white mane and tail. The pretty one.

– Yes, I see him. Anything else?

– Maybe that mouse dun – dust coloured – one.

Moondust walked purposefully over to the herd stallion – a fully mature animal with a rich bay coat and very black points. Farinka pictured the animals that she wanted, trying to get the image across to Moondust. The unicorn and the herd stallion walked among the other packbeasts together while Moondust singled out the right animals, gathering them into a group. He looked across the river to Farinka; then trotted through the herd, making for a pale grey filly, and chivvying her round to join the others.

– We only want colts, big fella, said Farinka.

Moondust snorted and stamped a foot, looking over the river.

– I think that's called making a deal, said Nemeth. After all, why not? She's his own kind. And with two unicorns to act as interpreters, we'll have less of a problem with the others. They'll do what these two tell them, I think.

– Good point. How old would you say she was?

– Three-ish? No really noticeable horn-bud, and her coat's not fully faded out yet. She should be almost white next year. I doubt if she's in foal, either, somehow. He wouldn't be quite so keen if she were.

– Okay, then. Bring them across.

– How?

– Leave it to Moondust.

Moondust and the herd stallion scratched each other's necks briefly once more, and then the bay gathered the other packbeasts together. Moondust rested his jaw over the grey filly's back, then gave her a gentle nip on the withers and shouldered her towards the river. She baulked at the bank, digging her toes in; Moondust blew into her ear and nudged her again, then went round behind the three colts, nipping them lightly on the rump to drive them into the water. They splashed across, having to swim for a few yards in the centre, and then plunged up the bank on the near side, their hooves squelching in the mud at the water's edge.

Nemeth slid down from Moondust's back and patted his shoulder. "Good lad," he said.

"Nice swim?" asked Farinka, handing him his clothes.

"Cold. Want to try it?"

"No thanks. How are the stings?"

"Pretty numb at the moment. Those black bees pack a much nastier sting than the brown ones. Mind you, it's worth it for that amount of honey. We must have got forty or more kilos of comb from that tree. All grub-free, too – I checked." He climbed into his clothes.

"Yes. We'd better get this lot home – it's getting very dark," Farinka commented.

Sherath approached Moondust, patted him, and slung the honey-sacks, their necks tied together, across the unicorn's withers, securing them by carrying the rope round Moondust's neck, between his front legs and round his girth in a figure-eight, and tying the end across the bases of the sacks from the neckrope to the girthrope on each side to stop them bouncing.

"He might get a bit sticky, but that should stay put. Are you riding, Domina? We need to move pretty fast," he said, glancing down at her.

"Better had," she said. "I need to introduce us to that filly, though. She can lead if she'll go ahead with Nemeth, and Moondust can bring up the rear to make sure the others follow."

Farinka walked towards the filly. – Hey, pretty one. Good girl, let me near. The filly shifted her weight uncertainly from foot to foot, but let Farinka stroke her shoulder, gradually relaxing as Farinka's hands worked their way up and into the tangled mane. – Good girl. Good lass. Farinka reached both arms round the filly's neck, whispering into her ear and then stroking round the sides of her head, rubbing the base of her thumb across the bald spot where the horn bud would soon be. There was a faint tingle as her hand passed over the spot, and the filly whickered softly, curving her jaw round Farinka's shoulder.

– She knows you, Domina, said Nemeth, approaching slowly.

– Yes. Pretty one – Moonwind – stay close to Nemeth.

She pulled the filly's head round gently and Nemeth held his hands out. Moonwind lipped at his hands, then dipped her head and followed him and Tarke towards the woodland edge.

The three colts, with a little encouragement from Moondust, followed behind.

– We've had good hunting this evening, said Sherath in a satisfied tone.

– Would dozewort knock those colts out? asked Farinka.

– Yes. Knocks anything out.

– For how long?

– About four or five minutes.

– Could they have it again before they woke up?

– The best way to keep them asleep is to knock them out, make a scratch and bind dozewort leaves against the scratch. Or leave a dozewort thorn in them for a while. They'd stay asleep until almost five minutes after you took the dozewort off, then. Why do you ask?

– I was thinking they'd be a lot more manageable and much safer round the little ones if they were gelded. None of them are old enough to be stroppy all year round, but by next spring they might well have ideas of their own on the subject. If they were gelded now, they'd get more manageable than they are, rather than less.

– Would you know how, Domina? Sherath asked. I don't think I could do that, somehow. My imagination's too good! he added with a wince.

Farinka laughed quietly. – No, possibly you couldn't. I've seen it done a few times – often enough to know how, I think. All you need is a very sharp blade and a way of making sure they don't carry on bleeding. Some kind of fierce clamp is best, but I don't know if you have such things.

– Hot metal? To sear blood vessels shut?

– Would work – carefully used.

Sherath retrieved the deerskin fire-tent as they passed the now-quiet honey tree, tying it on his shoulders like a cloak, and stamped out what was left of the fire, covering the ashes with earth. Farinka had to nudge Moondust into a canter to keep up as Sherath lengthened his stride to catch up with the others again.

The first four miles were all steadily – though slowly – uphill. Sherath ran in silence alongside Moondust's shoulder, deep in thought. The moon shed very little light on the track; the leaf cover was still thick enough to obscure most of it. Farinka was surprised how well she could see in the dark, and Moondust was striding out confidently – more confidently than the packbeast colts in front of him. He hurried them up from time to time with a rumbling snort and sometimes a soft nip.

– Nemeth, how's Moonwind doing? Can she see okay to clear those trees up ahead?

– She'll be okay; unicorns see as well in the dark as we do. The other packbeasts see less well – more like men. But I suspect they'll have the courage to follow where she leads. There's enough open sky where those trees fell to allow quite a bit of light through – it's not like most of the track. If they can't manage it they'll find a way round the ends, Domina; they seem quite happy following us. How's Moondust doing with the honey?

– The weight's no problem. He's getting sticky shoulders in places though.

– If he can carry you and Sherath at once then you and forty kilos of honey wouldn't bother him, Domina. I was thinking more about the ropes hurting him.

– They don't seem to be; he's moving easily enough.

– Those trees are about a hundred paces ahead of me now. I'm sending Tarke on ahead so this filly can see what's needed.

– Keep your feet out of the way of her hooves, Nemeth – we can't afford to have you going lame.

– Don't worry about me, Domina; I've been looking after myself since before your five-times-great grandsire was born.

– Yes, okay, she retorted. I get the idea.

The moonlight struck down through the trees just enough for Farinka to see Moonwind lift and clear the first tree. The palomino colt, after a moment's hesitation, followed her over with the cream dun close behind him. The mouse dun colt dug his toes in and jibbed at the last moment; Moondust reached forward and bit his rump sharply, and he cat-jumped from a standstill with Moondust almost on his heels.

– Nice work, Moondust, said Sherath. The unicorn flicked an ear back as Sherath hurdled the tree.

Moonwind cantered on eagerly and soared over the second tree, leaving Nemeth behind; the palomino and cream dun jumped neck and neck just behind Nemeth. Moondust bounced on the spot and made a deep grunting sound in his chest – the mouse dun colt cantered on and jumped easily and cleanly. Moondust went from bounce to canter, put in three strides and took off, almost landing on the colt in front.

– They did well, Domina, called Tarke appreciatively from up ahead. Almost home now. A few more minutes. I hope they've left something for us to eat; I'm starved. And thirsty.

***

The beasts were grazing at the top end of the valley, Moondust's silvery hide showing clearly under the just-past-full moon, with Moonwind and the cream dun colt showing rather less clearly. The others were indistinct outlines, grey against grey.

There were just the six oldest Elves left close to the fire; Louka with a mug of steaming danchic cradled in her hands, her feet snuggled into new boots which Jevann had finished making that afternoon, and the hood of her jacket pulled up; Jevann all but asleep, using Louka's crossed legs as a pillow and looking up at the broad strand of the StarStream across the middle of the sky through half-closed eyes; Nemeth leaning back against the big log, his hands linked behind his head and Tarke using his bent knees as armrests as she polished the inside of a new wooden bowl with a round stone and the last of the old beeswax; Farinka sitting close enough to watch the patterns in Tarke's bowl coming to life under the polish, and knotting together halters for the packbeasts out of strips of rawhide, trying to think of ways of making sturdy comfortable packs for them, and wishing her deerskin jacket was a bit warmer. Sherath noticed her shiver slightly.

"Cold, Domina?"

"Just a bit."

"I'll top the fire up." He got to his feet and added more logs to the fire, then grinned down at Jevann. "Are you intending staying out here all night? And if so shall I fetch a cover for you, as I'm on my feet?"

"It's not a bad night for staying out," said Jevann sleepily. "Can't be bothered to get up. And yes, please, I could do with something over me."

"Since you mention it," said Nemeth, stretching his arms, "my big buffalo hide's rolled up just by the doorway."

"Your wish is my command," said Sherath with a smile. "Any more, anyone?"

"Just bring several," suggested Louka. "It's not going to be damp, but it's not going to be warm, either."

Sherath ducked his head as he passed through the doorway of the big roundhouse, appearing a few minutes later with his arms full of assorted furs and hides, which he unrolled by the log, pulling a big rug – almost a carpet – of joined sheepskins from the top.

"Big enough to share," he said, carrying it over and draping it round Louka's shoulders and down over Jevann. "Good night, sleep tight – "

"– and don't let the bugs bite," finished Louka. "Thanks, Sherath. It's getting to that time of year again, isn't it?"

"Mm."