"Are you sure we can't at least finish dinner first?" Raya asked as Castus hauled him out of the inn by the arm.
"It'll still be there when we get back," the squirrel murmured under his breath, looking back and forth, as if keeping an eye out for an ambush. Raya rolled his eyes and stepped out visibly into the street, leaving Castus a little embarrassed as he tried to keep to the shadows.
"You know we're going to get in trouble for snooping around town hall," Raya remarked.
"Oh," Castus replied with insipid sarcasm, a little bitter that Raya thought so little of his plan, "I never knew you were such a law-abiding citizen."
"I'm just warning you, Castus! I have no qualms with doing things that get us into a mess, because you're the one who always got us out. I have no idea how we're going to keep out of trouble if you're the one getting us into it."
Castus huffed and came back into the street, anxiously watching town hall as its high arched entrance loomed closer. Maybe Raya was right, but he did have a very bad feeling about all this. The mayor just wasn't supposed to be friendly with vermin; it wasn't part of his character. To let them into town hall, from which was coming the sounds of merriment and music making, was unthinkable. Their town hall had started as a simple longhouse when Birchtown was nothing more than a gathering of mice and hedgehogs, banding together against the cold and wandering vermin who were still a problem so many seasons ago. Now it had been expanded and built upon into the imposing, grounding structure it was now. Always used for important meetings and the center of festivals alike, neither Castus nor Raya could fathom why, exactly, it was now being offered as a place of shelter to vermin.
It wasn't that Raya liked vermin. In fact, he just didn't care about them. His great grandfather had been killed by a stoat, when the mouse had caught a fish and the stoat decided he was too lazy to get one himself. His parents had always impressed on him that vermin, as a whole were distasteful and conceited and altogether not trustworthy. But Raya had only met three vermin in his whole life (that is, come close enough to speak to them and had). One was a rat who was running around selling linen woven from flax. Another was a grouchy old weasel who claimed she was a seer and had tried to read Raya's paw. That time, he was only a few seasons old, and Castus had bet that he wouldn't be able to stand ten seconds in front of the seer without running away from the smell, let alone the frightening, gnarled teeth and wicked, wicked voice.
Raya had counted to exactly eleven seconds before ripping his paw out of the seer's grasp and running for it.
The third vermin? That had gotten him a few stripes over the back. Castus, with his high minded morals, had sat back and watched innocently while Raya got inebriated for the first time in his life in one of Birchtown's taverns (they had snuck in entirely without permission), and miraculously managed to knock out an angry rat with a single punch. Nobeast had said it, but even the rat's friends had been impressed, and dragged their unconscious mate outside before he could recover and slit Raya's throat.
Now, however, now... Raya could smell trouble wafting up through the crack in the doorway, along with the stinging scent of pipe smoke, and the alluring odor of apple pies and flan twisting into the pungent smell of cider on the wind. Raya did so love cider. But he could also sense the tang of anxiety. Why, though? He had been the one to try and convince Castus that this wasn't worth it, and now he could sense, he could feel, he could smell something going on in there. But on he went, back straight and chin up (because even if Raya was incorrigible, he had impeccable posture), following Castus even though they were nearly side-by-side.
Raya always followed Castus, in the end. It wasn't as though they always listened to each other, or that Raya was Castus' lackey. But Castus had a good head on his shoulders. Castus was respectable. Raya knew how to do something exciting, like get drunk and beat down rats or prank Janus the guard, or swipe a couple apples here and there and mouth off to the mayor, breaking all the rules that didn't matter in the long run. But whenever Castus did something, or tried to keep Raya from doing something, it always satisfied some moral code, or fell in line with what the hero of the story would do, always finishing his chores and sticking up for Raya when it counted. That squirrel had his mind set on the big picture. When he did something, he did it right. Always, always, Castus knew the right thing to do, even if it wasn't the smart thing. And Raya could do nothing but respect him for that.
So now Raya knew why they were going to town hall. Because there was mischief on the air, and Castus was going to be the one to sniff it out. He just wished it wasn't quite so obvious and potentially dangerous.
Castus was walking furtively beside Raya, casting glances here and there, afraid that they'd be caught. Even when he was being a hero, he was worried that he'd do wrong by somebeast or hurt himself inadvertantly, which kept him from being as great and bold as he could be. Raya respected him for that, too.
But eventually they came to the town hall, silent and conspicuously sneaky like all youngsters were when they were breaking the rules and didn't want to look obvious about it. Castus peeked in through the barely open door, and saw a bunch of carousing woodlanders, but no vermin. Several town elders were smoking and playing skipstones, discussing recent events in their quietly irascible manners. No sign of vermin.
Castus shook his head as he turned back to Raya.
"They must be further in," he said quietly, as if those inside could hear them.
"What, back in the meeting hall?" Raya said, wrinkling his nose. "What could they have to be meeting about?"
"I don't know. But I want to find out," Castus said, heading around the side of the hall, dodging a few gossiping molewives who were out for a late stroll. Raya followed almost obediently behind him.
There were no windows as far back as the meeting hall, with the only ways in being the chimneys and the back entrance, which was almost always locked. In the meeting hall, elders and the mayor and leaders of different tribes from around Greymarch would meet and discuss important things that affected the ones who living in Birchshire and its surrounding areas, and almost nobeast was allowed in when a meeting was in session, save those who were supposed to be there. Castus and Raya did not number among the "supposed to be bes."
Castus did notice that this side of town was a little busier, and seemed flummoxed as to how to make himself look busy. Raya took care of that by snatching a couple apples from a nearby barrel and tossing one to the squirrel. The mouse took a hearty bite and leaned on the wall of the building while Castus nibbled nervously on his share.
"So what do you think they're doing in there?" Raya asked. Castus shrugged.
"No clue. And with the back door locked there's really no way inside..." He leaned on the wall next to Raya and suddenly noticed the apple he was chewing on.
"Uh... these aren't ours-"
"If you eat fast, nobody will notice," Raya advised, and took another large chomp. Castus only shook his head and kept eating, wondering how exactly they were to get inside without getting noticed. That, and he wanted to do it legally. Raya noticed his peering at the town hall and shook his head.
"You're really that determined to get in?" he asked.
"Of course," Castus said without hesitation, chewing through a mouthful of apple. "There's something wrong about this meeting, Raya."
The mouse peered around the edge of the roof, and suddenly an idea struck him. The town hall was divided into two sections: the first being the one they had passed, a large single story area that had been built during the founding of Birchtown, only about seven tail lengths off the ground (as the mouse grows his tail). The second section, which they were standing next to, was a little wider and taller and held the meeting hall. It had a small attic that spread across half the ceiling and served as something of a second floor, though it was only used for storage. That would be where Castus could gain entrance.
"Then go through the roof," Raya said easily. Castus dropped his apple and sputtered.
"Wha... the roof?" he squeaked, waving his tail anxiously. "Are you serious, Raya?"
"Of course I am. It's just thatch over the beams, we haven't gotten a shipment of plaster yet. That's for all the rich southern folk. You can be in and out before anybeast even knows you're there."
Castus' mouth levered open and shut like a fish, staring up at the hall. It was a long way up... of course, he was a squirrel, he was not scared of heights, but his trepidation at being a spy was suddenly starting to worm its way into his system.
"Well... if that's the only way," he said, and set his jaw.
"It is," Raya confirmed with a nod. "Not to mention the safest. No way they'll notice you while you're up there, they'll be too busy drinking and smoking to lift their heads."
Castus didn't move. He was still staring up at the roof, not even wondering how he was going to get up there. He was debating whether or not he'd actually be able to do this, now that it came to it. It was very dangerous, and rather high up, and if he was caught, there would be no mercy, from mother or from the mayor...
Raya interrupted him with a kick in the tail. "Well?!" he said quickly. "Go on! I'll keep watch down here." Castus squawked with indignation, but he was already clambering up onto the barrels that were standing upright next to the wall, grabbing onto a protruding piece of timber. He hefted himself up with the natural agility of squirrel kind and was trotting along the rim of the rooftop, keeping his arms and tail out for balance.
"Is anyone coming?" he asked in a harsh whisper.
"No! Keep going!" Raya said, anxiously following along from below. He didn't envy Castus' ability to keep his balance so perfectly. Trees were for squirrels, and that was that.
Castus soon reached the next section and hopped up onto that with barely a crunch of thatch under his paws. He halted, staring down at the roof beneath him.
"What are you waiting for?" Raya asked, letting his voice get a little louder so he could reach the squirrel's ears. The noise from inside would surely drown him out.
"I'm not too sure this is a good idea!" Castus called back.
"Will you hurry up?!" Raya snapped impatiently. "Somebeast is bound to come around sooner or later, and you're already up there!"
Castus heaved a dejected sigh and set to work breaking into his own town hall. Of course he wanted to know what was going on inside, but this had to have been extremely illegal. The town charter would find some terrible punishment for them both, he was certain of it. But there was no turning back now.
And, despite all his reservations, the town could very likely be in some kind of danger. Castus was willing to put aside his scruples for the time being if it meant keeping his loved ones safe.
Presently he had cleared away a small hole, and pulled up the latticework of sticks that kept the thatch secure over the larger support beams, wincing with each loud snap that accompanied his ponderous tugging.
"Hurry up!" he heard Raya urge him. Castus almost turned about to shout at him, but thought better of it. He had to keep his balance; crashing now would alert everybeast inside. He felt a rush of excitement dash through his body as he dropped into the hole, landing the near seven foot drop like a true tree whiffler, arms spread to evenly distribute his weight and lessen the impact. The boards did not even creak beneath his steady footing. He remained there, noiseless and immobile, arms out. He had gotten this far, and the landing had been perfect. He distinctly heard a multitude of voices from the assembly beneath him.
In that clandestine, private moment, in the heat of his triumphant landing and silent entry, Castus felt just a little bit closer to the heroes in his stories.
He found himself surrounded by storage boxes and old desks that were packed to the brim with scrolls. Ledgers and duty records gathered dust in bookcases, resting next to dried food goods, all waiting for a time when somebeast would scramble up the staircase and find a use for them all over again. Castus crept up to the edge of the platform and looked down. The storage platform overlooked the meeting room itself, which held a small number of vermin smoking pipes and drinking. As Castus peered over the edge, frightened half to death that the slightest noise would give him away, he also noticed the fox and the vixen had arrived, and were already engaged in talking to the mayor. He turned his ears downward and listened.
"But still," mayor Trimble said snappishly, "there's no reason... no reason at all. You're risking everything by showing yourself so openly!"
The fox, who had just finished seating himself on a chair with his cloak thrown over it at as a cushion, set his footpaws up on the table. His thick, bushy tail dangled beside him, swinging lazily.
"Mister mayor," he said, his voice all oil and silk with a vague air of condescension, as befitting a sly fox, "your quaint little establishment just knows a group of vermin has come calling for food and frolic. They suspect nothing! Be glad we decided to even take the time to warn you. Our timetable has been moved up significantly given recent events."
Trimble puffed out his chest and tried to look as lordly as his position, which was difficult given his situation. The vermin surrounding him were not so cheerful and gay now. They all wore sullen and dangerous expressions.
"Now see here. Birchtown has always kept to itself. You can't tell me that just because-"
"It's out of my paws, mayor," the fox said flatly, staring Trimble right in the eyes. Castus couldn't see it, but his golden eyes flashed to the frightened mouse.
"I don't give a swan's hoot about what your town wants. I'm only here to give you the news. Just be glad you actually have some forewarning. You agreed to this. You were happy. The burden of your responsibilities has weighed on you long enough, you said. You never wanted to be here. Now that you have a chance to leave, you want to act all high and mighty? I'm not the one with my tail in a knot."
Mayor Trimble sputtered, and then sank back into a disconsolate state. Castus' eyes narrowed. That fox had no right to threaten the mayor like this!
"I still really don't think you should have come so soon," said Trimble after a long moment of silence, wringing his paws. "I mean, it is a little abrupt, isn't it?"
The fox smiled suddenly, his eyes glinting in the firelight as he poured himself a mug of ale and the vixen, who drank greedily of it.
"Now now, mister mayor. It's not as though we actually have control over what goes on in the wider world surrounding this peaceful hamlet of yours. We do have a great many things to consider. The safety of your families is not the least of which. I'm just a messenger, after all, don't blame me."
"Well, I just... I mean... what if they take it too far?" the mayor squeaked, looking panicky and ridden with guilt. Castus squinted at his odd behavior. The mayor had never seemed half so shaky before, even for a mouse. Something strange really was happening. He had been right all along! But the look in the fox's eyes, the easy, conceited way in which he carried himself, made him wish differently. His paws tightened on the edge of the platform in clear illustration of his anxiety.
"Of course they're going to take it too far. That's why we have our plan laid out. At least this way, some of you make it out alive. Just be glad we aren't leaving you to their mercy."
Castus stifled a gasp and rested his head on the platform, fighting down the urge to leap down the staircase and demand to know what was going on. What did he mean, get out alive? Leave them at whose mercy? And why only some? Thoughts of his mother and sisters in danger swirled in a sudden frenzy. He forced himself to keep listening, wondering what the poor mayor had gotten himself into.
"In any case... let's not make tonight glum. Eat, drink, and be merry!"
The vermin went at it with a will, and as the mayor sat down, playing with his ears, and his vermin troupe struck up a bawdy drinking song, the fox lifted his mug and crossed arms with the vixen, and they drank out of each other's mugs. The fox hid a vicious smile as he spoke into his drink.
"For tomorrow... they all die."
The vixen smiled coquettishly, eyes glinting.
"I love it when you talk that way..."
Castus hadn't heard a lot, but he had heard enough. The mayor was striking some kind of agreement with these vermin, and it meant something bad for the town. But who could he warn? Who would believe him? Would they act in time to save anybeast? Sudden fear gripped him. This was far more than he had bargained for. Now that it came to it, he wasn't feeling half so bold as he had told himself he would.
So, instead of running of and shouting the news, Castus laid his tail on the floor and cringed into the platform, unsure of everything.
It was about then that a commotion interrupted the carousing. The door was swung wide open and the burly weasel strode in, carting a struggling mouse behind him. Castus gasped loudly and almost shouted. It was Raya.
"'E was snoopin' around the door. Probably swipin' goodies right from under our noses while we gossiped."
"Lay off, you miserable excuse for a pin-headed otter!" Raya shouted, wrestling ineffectually with the weasel's vice-like grip.
"Spying?" the mayor squeaked frightfully, jumping out of his seat. Raya fixed him with a glare.
"Never said anything about spying, mister mayor sir," he muttered. "Less you have something I'd like to snitch on."
"Quiet, rodent!" the weasel barked into his face. Castus almost jumped up from his perch, then sat back down, his mind a whirlwind of panic.
Raya, you fool, they're going to kill you, why didn't you stay hidden, I've got to do something, they'll kill me too, why didn't you just run and hide!
The fox, who had previously been sitting very calmly, suddenly swung his footpaws off his table and swung around to face the mouse.
"Now, now, let's not all get into a huff," he said, voice silken smooth. Castus almost jumped up again, but thought better of it. If he leaped down from the ceiling, he'd be caught for spying, and then what? No, he had to leave. He had to get out and come in the regular way... He sprang up without hesitation and, in two swift jumps off a desk and up to the lattice, he was scrambling through the hole in the ceiling.
Raya was alone with the fox, who was standing up and walking towards him.
"I'm sure there's just been some misunderstanding," he said calmly.
"Only misunderstanding is why you're standing in one of our hallowed halls!" Raya spat, feeling a sudden rush of hate. He didn't quite know why, but this fox just rubbed him the wrong way. His opponent on the other paw didn't seem fazed.
"We're here because we were invited, child. Your mayor was kind enough to simply allow us to shelter here, so impressed he was by our playing. Right, mayor?"
Trimble nodded fretfully, earning him a confused glare from Raya. He struggled a bit more, making the weasel tighten his grip.
"Release him, Gavril," the fox commanded, and the weasel, grudgingly, let him be. Raya stumbled forward and dusted off his tunic, sniffing at the weasel, who glared daggers at him.
"So, Raya," the mayor mumbled, remembering him from all the times the young mouse had caused trouble. "What... exactly were you doing here?"
"Swipin' apples, like stone-head back there said," Raya answered, crossing his arms.
"And the door was closed?" Trimble asked apprehensively. Raya shifted uncomfortably.
"Yeah... why?"
"No reason," the mayor snapped, his gaze steady and his eyes wide with fear. "You best be going now, don't you think? Keep the apples. They're good for the stomach."
Raya blinked slowly and began to turn away, unease twisting his stomach. Gavril suddenly stepped in his way.
"Hold on there, mousie," he said dangerously. "I think we need some proof that you aren't gonna go and start spreading rumors. I don't think I really believe that he was just looking for apples."
Raya straightened up fulsomely. "What, your head too thick to hear what common sense is saying? Do I look like the type who'd be running around peeking into open doors?"
"You tell me," the weasel growled, looming over the mouse. Even Raya was forced to take a cautious step back.
But before the situation could explode, Castus came bursting in.
"Raya! There you are!" he said, locking his eyes on the mouse and walking straight towards him, tail flared out behind him. He didn't look at the mayor, or the fox, or any of the vermin. He just walked in, grabbed Raya's arm, and began marching out, speaking almost comically quickly.
"Well okay, enough apples for tonight I suppose, well we gotta be going, sorry mayor, we'll pay you back, have fun gentlebeasts goodbye!"
The door closed behind them. Mayor Trimble let his breath out in a heaving sigh. The fox, his gaze now harsh and cold, turned to him.
"They'll be trouble," he said simply. Trimble's mouth worked open and closed several times as the implications sank in.
"N... no. No! Please, hold on. They're... they're troublemakers, yes, but... but they're smart lads. I know them! They won't tell a soul, I swear! You mustn't... you swore you'd only pick up the stragglers!"
"Well," the fox said, with a needle thin smile, "it's a shame they're about fall behind then, isn't it?"
Trimble knew the fox was implacable. He turned away, paws over his snout, his body shivering like a leaf in the wind. He hadn't meant it to end like this. He had to do something, say something, anything. The fox's ice cold voice cut into his thoughts, as if he had read his mind.
"It's only those two and a few more, mister mayor," he said calmly, as though it were no great deal. "Not enough to alert the town. They'll be sure to exile you, or worse, knowing you're part of this. They'll need somebeast to lead them during the coming storm, after all. A beast of honor and integrity."
His mocking tone was clear enough. Trimble collapsed into a chair, curled into himself, overcome with shame . The fox smiled maliciously and turned to the vixen, who stood up and grasped his arm.
"You need something, fearless leader?" she purred.
The fox stared levelly at her, golden eyes glinting with danger and affection, a frightening combination.
"Take Gavril and alert our scouts. Those two looked panicked. They'll be scuttling home to their mothers first thing on the morrow... make sure they never reach them."