Chapter 4: Harvest Moon

It was two weeks later. The Rambling Rosehip Players had been completely snowed in. So they put on shows for the Redwallers every third night. Martin spent a lot of time with his Noonvale friends, catching up on the news. He was very pleased to hear that everything had been going very smoothly since he'd last been there. Everybeast in the valley except for Urran Voh held no blame to him whatsoever, and in fact, many wished that he could have stayed. Pallum chuckled when he mentioned that in the first season or so after he'd not come back, a number of the creatures who wished him back were (relatively unobservant) females of his own age, although his sizeable fan club had dwindled over the seasons as the members married others in Noonvale. Martin and Lily avoided each other.

Some of the Redwall moles cornered him one day and announced that, while they didn't want to depress him, they had decided the three founders—himself, Bella, and the Abbess—would receive, if they wished, hidden tombs. Martin shrugged and replied that he didn't see any harm in it, so if they didn't mind the extra work, he would accept their offer.

Immediately, he was completely swamped with questions of how he'd like it built. He gave them an idea that he had: a small room off of Cavern Hole, which opened with a hidden doorknob. The hidden doorknob would be part of a frieze of a rose blossom. The moles, knowing that the rose was their friend's favorite flower, said that this was perfectly all right.

They actually finished the tomb before deciding completely on their own that it was too small, not dignified enough, and too easily discovered. Martin was completely mortified. Not only were these moles usually not the slightest bit pushy, but also the Healer had really latched onto the idea of being buried behind an image of the flower for which his sweetheart was named. However, by the time he'd been able to find a single mole who was not too busy to talk, they had already burrowed so far under the foundations of Cavern Hole that they had to keep going or the entire Abbey would collapse. The mouse threw up his paws and relented. He supposed that it didn't truly matter where he was buried anyway. He would be dead, so he wouldn't really care.

On Midwinter's Eve, Martin had another dream.

This time, it was one of those golden nights between summer and autumn, when the air was still warm but attention was starting to turn to the harvest, when the smell of leaves began to ride on the air, and the flourmills were becoming increasingly busy. They were in Noonvale again, after the wedding feast of a squirrel couple. It had been the first wedding that the Warrior mouse had attended in his entire life.

Martin and Rose strolled by the lake in the center of Noonvale. They had left the orchard, where the feast was being held, because the large numbers of creatures and all the noise had seemed stifling. The mist that sprayed from the waterfall cooled their faces, relieving the lingering heat of the day, and the light of the full moon reflected in the water and in their eyes.

The Warrior sighed contentedly. He had never known such happiness. Here he was, living in Noonvale. He hadn't actually given up his sword yet, but he was considering it, because he knew that Rose's parents would never really approve of him if he didn't. He was in love, and the moon was shining, and he wouldn't need to fight for his life ever again, because it looked like he would be able to live a happy life here. Hesitantly, he took Rose's paw.

They reached a secluded spot near the small cliff over which the waterfall tumbled. The mousemaid turned to face him and looked at their intertwined fingers.

"Martin," she began slowly, "I—I…there's something that I must tell you."

The Warrior was completely mesmerized by Rose's eyes shining in the moonlight. "Yes, and there's something I need to tell you, too. Do you want to go first?"

"Not really. But I will anyway." Rose paused. "I—what I have to say is…" She swallowed against her hesitation. "Oh, I don't know why it's so hard for me to say this! I—I think am in love with you." She smiled. "There, I've said it."

Martin could only stare at her for a minute. "That's what I was going to say! That I love you. That I've loved you since the minute we met." He stepped closer to her. "Do you really mean it?"

Rose nodded, beaming. She stepped closer to him and put her paws around his shoulders, hugging him close. On impulse, Martin pulled away from her just a fraction, closed his eyes, and moved to kiss her. But an instant before their lips touched—

—he woke up. The Healer opened his eyes to the darkness of his room in the Infirmary. Snow fell softly outside his window, and the candle that he kept by his bedside had burnt itself down. Martin suddenly felt an incredible sorrow creep over him. He got up, replaced and relit the candle, and fished under his bed for his treasure box.

There was a new item in the box. Martin pulled it out and studied it. He understood that it was completely pointless to continue making it, but he thought that he'd ask the acting troupe to take it back to Noonvale with them and put it on Rose's grave. Or maybe he'd hide it in his tomb, so that if there was anything beyond death, he could come back to get it and give it to her.

He pulled out a small whittling knife from his bedside table and started working by candlelight. It was beginning to take shape. It was a little rough so far, but that could be fixed. The Healer had been working on it since his last dream. He would set it with rose quartz if he could, or another stone if that was all he could find.

Martin sat up all through the night, working on the ring for a marriage that he knew would never occur.

***

The next morning, he sought out Lily. They sat across from each other at the breakfast table: the Healer red-eyed and sleep-deprived, and the young seer staring through him with her strange, green eyes. Martin let a moment of silence pass before he spoke.

"Your aunt was an amazing creature," he told her, his voice barely a whisper. "Certainly, she was beautiful—take this as the delirious observation of a lovesick creature—but to me, she was and still is the most beautiful mouse I've ever known. But she was also beautiful of character. She was always very kind to others, unless they had wronged her or those she held dear. If something did happen to somebeast she loved, she would stop at nothing to make sure that the creature in question was rescued, or whatever the case happened to be, if at all possible. Her determination was like iron! But she was never one for vengeance."

Lily smiled. "I heard that she was the only one who could ever boss you around."

The Healer chuckled. "For a little while, yes, she was. But what could I do? I was in love with her." His eyes were suddenly faraway, and he sighed. "I still am, if it comes to that. I thought that to win her affection, I needed to obey her in all things." He smiled a little. "It just so happened that the only times she did boss me around was when it truly mattered—when somebeast's life or safety depended on it. Usually, it was my own. But at the time, I didn't notice it."

"Why are you suddenly telling me this?" the mousemaid asked.

"Because I've been having dreams lately," Martin replied. "I've been dreaming of what our life together could have been like. Of Noonvale. I always wake up just when my happiness is about to be completed." His gray eyes sought hers, and Lily shrank from the uncertainty that she saw in them. "I've tried everything to stop the dreams, Lily. Everything. The only thing that I hope is that by telling you, by getting some of this weight off of my chest, they'll end."

Lily shook her head. "I'm sorry, Martin. I don't know what to tell you. I don't know how to help you. But thank you for telling me about my aunt Rose."

The Healer sighed, stood up, and walked away. The mousemaid stared after him, wondering.