Lily and Arthur stood alone outside the Council Chamber. A chilly north wind was blowing, and the trees of the forest responded with the woody groans that could only mean that winter was coming quickly. But the chill of the wind and the groaning of the trees were nothing in comparison to the groaning despair Lily felt rising in her heart. “But Arthur!” she exclaimed. “Leave the forest? How could I possibly? And never return?”
“No, no, Lily,” Arthur consoled her, scurrying up to a branch near her head, his gentle brown eyes softening as they looked into hers. “I know this is a difficult request, but you mustn’t fret. You are the dearest, bravest little girl I have ever met. Even venturing into the forest alone today took a great deal of courage, however unwise it may have been.”
“I’m sorry I broke my promise to you, Arthur,” Lily pleaded. “I won’t stray ever again.”
“I am glad to hear that, but I fear that now even sticking to the path is not a guarantee of safety. I didn’t mean for you to be exposed to the unpleasantness of the Forest Council, but I’m glad you came after all. Now you have seen for yourself just how precarious our situation has become and you have seen, I hope, that for now the forest is no place for a little girl.”
“But I’m bigger than all of you!” Lily cried. “If it isn’t safe for me, it isn’t safe for any of you!”
Arthur could not help but allow a tiny laugh to escape his lips. “Dear Lily, it is true. You are bigger than all of us. What a marvel you are! And you are correct, it isn’t safe for any of us,” Arthur admitted, resuming his gravity. “But the forest is my home, and the Rookery doubly so. I could no more leave these rooks behind than you could abandon your own family in a time of crisis. But you have a home outside the forest. You can leave, Lily, and you absolutely must. As you have seen, the hawks care nothing about what sort of creature you are. They don’t care if you are big or small or how many legs you have. They are preparing for battle, and I simply cannot allow you to stay.”
“But you told us before that honor means helping other people even if you don’t have to—even if it might hurt you!” Lily argued, stomping her foot in frustration.
“Bless you child! And what I said is true, but now is not the time for you to make that kind of sacrifice. Your safety is the most important thing. What would become of us if something happened to you? What would become of your family? It would be left to me to inform your father, wouldn’t it? Now forgive me if it sounds selfish, but that is a conversation I would rather never have.”
Lily had no answer. She knew Arthur was right. She looked deeply into his eyes and could see nothing but painful sincerity. He cared for her more than she could have understood until this moment—in fact, he cared so much that he was willing to make her leave.
“Will I see you again, Arthur?” she asked, trying to be brave. “Will I see any of this ever again?”
“I have faith that you will,” he smiled. “For even periods of the greatest darkness cannot possibly last forever, least of all when those of us who fight for good are strong in both spirit and in number.”
Lily thought about the terrible scene in the Council Chamber and found it very difficult to believe that the bickering crowd of animals she was leaving behind would ever be able to unite against the hawks.
Arthur seemed to understand just what she was thinking.
“Have faith in your friends, Lily. Doing the right thing and acting bravely is not easy. Honor and courage rarely show themselves these days until they are absolutely necessary. This is why I simply must stay. There is much I must do, and I’m afraid our time is growing short.”
Lily could see for herself that the situation had grown far direr, perhaps, than Arthur would admit. She took a deep breath and made one last request. “Will you, at least, walk me to the edge of the forest?”
“I would like nothing more,” Arthur answered kindly, “but I simply cannot. The Council is not yet over, and I do still hold out a hope—though faint—that some good may come of this day. Lily, I’m afraid I must go. Titus has requested my counsel. There are strong, reasonable voices in that chamber, if only the others would be still. I must do everything in my power to help make that happen.”
Lily’s lip quivered as she looked behind her at the twisting, unfamiliar path leading away from the Council Chamber.
“Oh! But you will not be alone!” Arthur cried out, sensing at once the girl’s fear. “Heavens, no! Do not think such things. I’ve arranged for Nathaniel to escort you all the way home. Ah! Here he is now.”
The little gray vole emerged from under a pile of leaves, snuffling along the ground toward Lily’s feet.
“The vole!” Lily cried out. “So that’s his name! He never told me.”
“I’m afraid you’ll get no more out of him now. Nathaniel is the mutest creature I have ever encountered—which is sometimes a relief after a long day with these chattering rooks! In any regard, he’s quite a good listener.”
“And brave! Why, it was nearly the bravest thing I have ever seen,” she said, looking down warmly at the silent animal, who blushed in embarrassment. “It truly was! He’s such a tiny creature, but he risked his own life to rescue me from that dreadful hawk!”
“Many animals,” Arthur responded, “have been known for a valiance altogether out of proportion to their size, Lily! Not all, perhaps, but Nathaniel, certainly. No one knows exactly how he found you—he hasn’t yet told us how he knew you had entered the forest. But we are all, very glad that he did.”
As usual, Nathaniel said nothing, and would not meet Arthur’s eyes. Instead, he kept his nose to the ground, as was his way, and began sniffing along the path. As he passed Lily, he looked up at her and nodded cordially, as if entreating her to join him.
“Oh Arthur!” the girl cried, reaching out to touch the top of his head and stroking it lovingly. “It surely isn’t goodbye, is it?”
“Not a permanent goodbye,” the mouse responded, pressing his head close to her thumb. “It is a ‘so long’ and a ‘farewell’. More than anything, though, it is quite certainly a ‘till we meet again at last’.”
Lily sighed and smiled toward Arthur, and he back. He scurried back down to the ground and stood for a minute near the secret passageway in the Council Chamber wall. Then his whiskers twitched in turn, and he was gone. Lily suppressed a sob, and turned to follow the vole as he led her (quite efficiently, though wordlessly) back to her home: back to Nan and Strathclyde and his grouchy old wife. Back to memories and back to being a child.
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