CHAPTER SIX
And here we are at the final chapter of this little fic. It feels immensely gratifying to have come this far, and despite the troubles it's sometime meant it's been an incredibly rewarding experience to have written this six-chapter story.
I want to take the time to truly thank Highwing for all his help in providing critique to this fic and taking the time to edit it, which he did for me without me ever having expected or asked for it nor with any tangible rewards on his part. He has spent almost as much time on it as I have, His work has made this fic so much better than I could ever have hoped to make it by myself, and there's now words to truly express how grateful I am to him. I can just say: Thank you, Wing. I will never forget what you've done for me here.
I also want to thank my readers who have provided such kind and uplifting reviews and comments. I hope you will enjoy this final chapter and consider it a worthy conclusion to my little story about Wolfrum, and that it'll give you as much pleasure reading it as it's given me writing it.
And just in case it wasn't obvious by now: this is based on The Crimson Badger by Highwing. Spoilers abound.
As night wore on, a thickening cover of clouds rolled over Mossflower, swallowing moon and stars in its black veil and turning the world even darker and the woodlands more impenetrable… which perfectly suited Mykola's purposes.
Approaching the eastern wall with a determined stride, the limping vulpine requested that the otter guards open the gate for him.
"At this hour?" one of them responded.
"Machus wants me to check on the banished soldiers outside. Make sure they're not up to causing any further trouble. It should have been done before now, but we foxes had other matters occupying our attention."
Seeing no reason to refuse or question him further, the otters lifted the latch and pushed open the gate. If any of them wondered why the fox had chosen to exit here instead of through the south wallgate, closer to where the banished vermin were encamped, they kept their questions to themselves.
And so Mykola stole out into the darkness, melting into the night…
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What Tolar had said a few hours earlier was indeed true: Mykola had slain plenty of enemies on the field of battle - an often necessary and unavoidable duty, even if he took no pleasure in it - but he'd never actually taken the life of any soldier in Urthblood's service.
The captains and officers of the various regiments were at liberty to dish out whatever routine punishments they deemed necessary for the coherence and morale of their subordinates. However, under ordinary circumstances only Urthblood and his swordfoxes decided when the ultimate punishment was justified, and they were the ones to carry it out.
Mykola had attended several such executions, each as unpleasant as the next. Urthblood and his army weren't cruel, and they didn't make the condemned beasts' death any more protracted than necessary (for the most part anyway; Mykola always shuddered when recalling the story of the ferret Kedrin, who'd sought to take over Urthblood's army for his own by poisoning the badger, and who'd been forced to swallow his own poisoned knife in front of the other troops as an example of what happened to traitors. While Mykola had been fortunate enough not to witness this episode in person, it had always struck the fox as unnecessarily sadistic.) But it wasn't just the manner of routine executions that made the whole thing so uncomfortable to him. It was the entire attitude towards the condemned.
In the eyes of Urthblood and his captains, any soldier who committed a crime meriting death was reduced to a non-entity. He wasn't a beast anymore, just a thorn in the army's side to be disposed of. After being judged unworthy of life, the condemned was usually taken immediately to kneel before the sword or stand before the noose; time was rarely wasted trying to comfort him or provide any last requests. And when it was over, nobeast would willingly risk the dishonour of openly displaying sympathy for a dead criminal by mourning over his out-of-the-way, unmarked grave.
Vermin soldiers were naturally the ones who most often had to face a dishonourable death, but Mykola had once witnessed the hanging of an otter who'd murdered a civilian during a brawl. This had caused quite a stir within the detachment, since some woodlanders felt that as "better creatures" they shouldn't be subject to the same punishments. Lord Urthblood had insisted, however, that nobeast who committed such a despicable crime would be exempt from execution. His aim was to promote equality between the two factions of former adversaries, and just as the vermin had to learn to behave like decent goodbeasts, the woodlanders had to face the same penalties for the same crimes.
And now Mykola would administer that punishment, the ultimate one, to Wolfrum within a matter of minutes. Doing his best to maintain his swordfox composure, he couldn't help but shiver inwardly. The distress he felt at having to kill the rat was so overwhelming that he almost wished he could trade places with him.
And nagging at the back of his mind was Lady Mina's accusation from earlier that evening. Was she right? Was it improper to show such concern over beasts like Wolfrum when there were so many suffering goodbeasts in need of help? Was it a betrayal of good to show sympathy to the wicked, or to those who sometimes committed wicked deeds? Even goodbeasts sometimes did bad things, but they were never condemned as beyond salvation for their occasional lapses. So many questions raged through Mykola's mind, and he could not think of answers for any of them.
Picking his way into the woods below Redwall's eastern ramparts, the fox steeled himself for his task and turned his pawsteps south, his keen vulpine vision and expert swordsbeast's training enabling him to stride through the nearly pitch black forest without betraying his silent passage to listening ears or straining eyes. Shortly he would be upon the spot where the banished soldiers were camped… and then Wolfrum's life would end.
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Mykola soon came upon the banished soldiers, who'd sought refuge under the trees near the forest's edge. None stirred as he drew near, his approach stealthy enough to avoid waking anybeast or drawing unwanted attention to himself. Now he had to proceed quickly. He stood letting his eyes adjust to this new deeper darkness, struggling to make out which of the reclined forms was Wolfrum, but the cloud cover that had helped hide his approach now proved a mixed blessing, with even his trained eye and fox's night vision unable to make out the rat in the darkness.
This complicated matters. Mykola preferred not to slay Wolfrum in the presence of the rat's fellow soldiers, if that could be avoided. A clearer, brighter night might have allowed him to more easily spot his target and signal for the others to disperse without alerting Wolfrum to his peril. Wolfrum hardly struck Mykola as the sort of creature to quietly accept his doom and be led off to a secluded place for his execution.
As it turned out, however, Wolfrum would inadvertently help Mykola in this regard by announcing his position himself.
"Gerroww! Havin' me sleep ruined, by that stupid li'l mousechild, an' that damned fox! T'weren't my fault, I were only defendin' meself, that Smallert's the one t' blame…"
Just ahead of the fox, Wolfrum had suddenly awakened from a fitful slumber, apparently tormented by a nightmare shaped from his actions of that day. Sadly, Mykola noted, that nightmare seemed to elicit only anger and resentment over the rat's self-created predicament, not introspection and remorse. This observation allowed Mykola to harden himself for what he was about to do.
Slowly stepping forward, Mykola was finally noticed by the nearer ferrets and stoats. The fox drew his sword from its sheath with the faintest whisper of a swish, a ghost noise almost unheard in the night. The soldiers now aware of his proximity needed no gesture of dismissal to quietly rise from their spots and melt away into the black forest. Mykola slowly walked on.
Wolfrum made no effort to keep his voice down, apparently wanting to share his misery with his fellows without any thought as to whether this might disturb their slumbers. He either failed to appreciate or simply didn't care that he might have been better off keeping his complaints to himself, after causing the death of Speeg and getting his comrades exiled from the Abbey.
"Psst! Hey, Gorsul, that you?" he whispered to the nearest rat shadow. "Shame 'bout pore ol' Speeg, that dirty Smallert's a right nasty madbeast. Hope Machus has got that mean ol' weasel gutted an' chopped up fer fishbait by now. Slayin' Speeg like that, an' that idiot mouse whelp who got in th' middle of it all…"
Despite the close relationship Mykola had shared with the rat prior to this latest incident, Wolfrum's blatantly unrepentant remarks, uttered loudly enough for the fox's sharp ears to clearly hear, turned something within Mykola hard as stone. Mina had urged him to let go of his pity for Wolfrum, and there was no better time to do that than now, with the rat placing all the blame for his terrible deed on Smallert and so callously mocking the fate of young Cyrus, who for all he knew could very well have died during the night. Wolfrum had to pay dearly for what he'd done and said, of that there could be no doubt.
Mykola crept forward, coming at last to where the rats lay. One by one the rodents noticed the dark silhouette of the sword-wielding vulpine, and one by one they wordlessly rose and backed away, realizing what the fox was about to do. Mykola glanced to his left and spotted Liam, the sergeant rat looking toward his swordfox friend with dismay and regret, or so Mykola imagined in the obscuring darkness. But in the end Liam too stood and turned away; there was nothing he could do to prevent this, and he knew it.
"Hey, don't go leavin' yer ol' pal all alone on a gloomy night like this!" Wolfrum hissed more loudly as he noticed his comrades getting to their feet and backing away from him, still oblivious to the approaching danger. "Have some heart, matey!"
Finally, every other rat was gone, leaving Mykola's target plainly obvious, even in the deep night. Finding himself suddenly alone in the darkness, Wolfrum nervously glanced about, realizing at last that something was wrong. Thus his eyes came to rest on the figure taking shape out of the black night… and the sword carried in its right paw.
Comprehending at last what was about to befall him, a strangled, incoherent cry escaped Wolfrum's throat as he climbed to his feet and turned to flee. Unfortunately, his impaled, crudely bandaged footpaw was in no shape for running, forcing him to limp worse and worse with each step, but his blind and mindless panic impelled him on, heedless of the pain and the utter hopelessness of his situation as he screamed in terror during his vain attempt to escape into the dark depths of Mossflower Woods.
Had Wolfrum not been in such a panic, and had the night been just a little brighter, he might have noticed that his pursuer ironically walked with a noticeable limp himself. But such details were lost on him in his current state, his only concern the impossible task of getting away from that pursuer.
Mykola let Wolfrum continue his attempted flight for a few moments while stalking behind him at a brisk pace, until they were both safely beyond the forlorn campsite and the scattered soldiers doing their best not to think about what was about to happen. Then the fox lunged forward and gave the rat a hard push on the shoulder, driving Wolfrum onto his stomach on the forest floor and abruptly cutting off his screams. Before the rat could regain his voice, Mykola knelt and flipped Wolfrum over onto his back, sword at the ready, and glanced deeply into the eyes of his former charge.
As his eyes focused upon the face looming above him and the features of the fox emerged from the darkness, Wolfrum saw for the first time just who had been sent to kill him. Any sign of struggle disappeared from him as he could only stare back at his mentor, the closest thing he'd ever had to a real friend, his gaze becoming pleading and contrite.
"Mikky… Please, please don't do this! I'm beggin' you…"
But his plea for mercy carried no hope in it. Mykola could tell that even Wolfrum understood it was over, that there was no way he'd be getting out of this alive.
Pinning Wolfrum to the ground by his collarbone, Mykola raised his sword and positioned it for a swift, clean pass through the rat's heart. It had come to this, and now there was no turning back. With Wolfrum helplessly immobilized below him, all the fox had to do was thrust his blade downward and the duty he'd taken upon himself would be complete.
He didn't.
Mykola couldn't understand why, but his sword paw remained poised over Wolfrum without dealing the final blow. It was as if the world had frozen around the two beasts, the condemned rodent staring into his superior's eyes while awaiting the lethal strike, the fox unable to perform what everybeast - himself included - expected of him.
Abruptly, the fox stood, re-sheathed his sword and, grabbing the rat by his vest, hauled Wolfrum up onto his footpaws as well.
"Come with me, and don't make a sound…" he hissed, before half-dragging the confused, limping rodent deeper into the forest with him.
After about a minute's brisk walk - as brisk as Wolfrum could manage on his injured footpaw - Mykola halted them near a large spruce, strikingly similar to the one beneath which they'd had their heartfelt talk during the storm more than a week ago. Shifting his grip on Wolfrum's vest, Mykola pulled the rat to him until their whiskers nearly touched and stared hard into the other's eyes, his features crystallized into a cold mask.
"I don't know why I'm doing this," he growled. "By all rights, I should just slay you here and now and have your worthless hide thrown under the earth, as I've been ordered to. It would only be what you deserve after what you did today.
"But I'm not going to kill you. It's insane and stupid and irresponsible of me to do so, but I'm going to let you live."
Wolfrum's eyes went wide at those words, the rat unable to believe what his old mentor was saying.
"Now, just to make sure you understand just what I'm doing for your sake," Mykola continued, "I'm letting a condemned beast escape his punishment in Lord Urthblood's army. If this is ever discovered, my life will be forfeit as well. But I'm going to risk that. On your behalf. This is the last favour I will ever do for you, and I hope you can appreciate just how huge it is…"
Releasing Wolfrum's vest and looking down at the rat's injured foot, Mykola produced a kerchief from one of his pockets and knelt to tend the wound, peeling away some of the crude bandages and smearing some of the blood from the oozing laceration on the cloth. Wolfrum gave a barely audible groan from the pain, but otherwise held his silence as ordered.
The fox rose. "I want you to leave now." Reaching into another pocket he pulled out a small roll of bandages and passed it to the rat. "It won't be easy with that footpaw of yours, but you'll just have to risk it; these bandages should be an improvement over the makeshift ones you have now. Stop and put them on once you're well away from here. You should've been dead by now anyway, so be grateful that you're getting this opportunity.
"And if you want to express that gratitude," Mykola intoned with all the gravity and solemn authority he could muster, "do so by spending your life atoning for what you've done this day. The reason I've chosen to spare you is because despite all that has happened, despite what you've done and how you've behaved, I still have hope for you, mad as that sounds. I still believe you can change into something better. You've behaved like a barbarian these past two days, but before that I saw you making real progress away from your usual self. And I'm prepared to give you one last chance, one last opportunity to turn your life around."
Wolfrum stared back at the swordfox, quivering and stammering, trying to find words to respond. "I… I…"
"Don't speak. Just turn around and walk away, quietly as you can. I'll try to convince the others that you're dead, and you should be well on your way before they ever find out otherwise, if they ever do. Go south; none of Urthblood's forces are there, and with luck you'll find some settlement that will accept you and take you in, where you can hide for the rest of your days. If fortune gets you that far, remember what happened here, remember what you did and that I still chose to spare you even though I risked my own life doing so. And let those memories be a lesson to you to finally change your ways and never do anything like this again, Wolfrum. Don't let this chance you've been given go to waste…"
For a few moments, Wolfrum just stood before Mykola, a wide range of conflicted emotions playing across his features. Even in the darkness, the fox could see tears starting to well up in the rat's eyes: tears of sadness, of fear, of uncertainty and of simply being overwhelmed by what had just happened. And beneath it all, tears of unfathomable gratitude and even, though Mykola couldn't be quite sure of it in the dim light, of a slight trace of remorse.
And then Wolfrum the disgraced and dishonoured soldier rat did as he was told, turning around and limping away into the black night. The last Mykola saw of Wolfrum was the tip of his tail disappearing among the mighty forest giants, and then he was gone, consumed by the darkness.
Mykola stood where he was long after the rat had disappeared into the night, pondering what to do next. He'd put himself in a tight spot; Tolar was soon due to check up on how things had gone. That left very little time for him to devise some masquerade which might convince Tolar and everybeast else that Wolfrum had indeed been executed; otherwise, Wolfrum would be quickly hunted down and slain, and Mykola would be lucky if his punishment was limited to expulsion from the swordfox brigade and a dishonourable discharge from Lord Urthblood's army.
He realized he would not be able to arrange such a deception alone. He would need an accomplice…
Hastening back to the soldiers, and hoping none had dared to follow him into the forest with Wolfrum, Mykola brought forth the bloodied handkerchief. The first thing anybeast saw upon his return was him wiping it across the edge of his blade, the implication clear and frightening. Striding imperiously through their number, they cowered in silent deference. Seeking out Liam, Mykola beckoned him over and the sergeant rat obeyed, if hesitantly.
"I need your help," the fox said matter-of-factly. "Take two shovels and a large sheet from our supplies and come with me."
Jumping to the natural - but mistaken - conclusion about why these materials would be needed, Liam nodded somberly and dug them out of one of the supply haversacks, then followed Mykola through the woods to the spot where the fox had let Wolfrum go.
Seeing Mykola come to a halt, Liam stopped as well and took stock of their surroundings. The rat anxiously gazed around, searching the darkness for the corpse he knew must be nearby. Failing to find it, he turned a bewildered gaze toward the swordfox.
"So… where is he? Ain't we supposed to…?"
Mykola didn't answer in words, instead directing a drained and imploring look back at the rat. After a few hearbeats, Liam's eyes went wide.
"You… you let him…?"
"Yes…" The fox nodded almost imperceptibly.
"But… why?"
Again the night fell silent as Mykola pondered the matter. "I don't know," he confessed at last with a sigh. "I honestly don't know. But… I just couldn't do it. Even after all that's happened, I just couldn't do it. I told him to leave and never set foot near us or Redwall again, and to remember the mercy I showed him and atone for his crimes. I know it was foolish and irresponsible of me, but… I just couldn't give up on him, not like this…"
Regaining his equilibrium, the fox gave his friend a long, hard look.
"If you disagree with my decision, I'll understand completely, and if you feel you must report this to Machus, I'll not try to stop you. But remember, if you do, Wolfrum will be hunted down and killed, and my own life may be forfeit as well. If you choose instead to hold this secret with me, I'll need your help to cover this up and convince our superiors that Wolfrum is truly dead. Choose quickly, because Tolar will be here soon to check on how things went."
Liam stood still for many moments, the rolled sheet tucked under his left arm and the shovel handles limp in his right, their blades resting aimlessly against the soft ground. Incredulous that even Mykola might so flagrantly disobey Machus, he was clearly agonizing over what to do. If he did help to cover up Wolfrum's escape, he would be an accomplice to the crime and receive the same punishment as Mykola. But if he chose to report it, he might indeed condemn the fox, and the run-away rat, to death.
After several moments of intense deliberation, he looked to the swordfox and asked, "How d'you want this done?"
Mykola gave his friend a faint smile in appreciation of the risk Liam had chosen to take upon himself. The fox pointed to a nearby spot on the ground. "We'll need to dig a mock grave here, and I'll fill up the sheet with earth and rocks to make it look like there could be a rat wrapped up in it. We don't have much time, so we have to dig for all we're worth!"
And so they did. Working in tandem at a frantic pace until they'd excavated a roughly rectangular hole in the earth nearly waist deep, Mykola hoisted himself up out of the fake grave while leaving Liam to continue his frenetic digging. The fox gathered much of the earth they'd thrown from the hole and put it on the blanket, along with a couple of sticks, logs and rocks he gathered from the surrounding woods and placed in strategic positions. After that, he wrapped the sheet around the roughly assembled package, shifting some of the contents around until it looked like there could be a body inside it.
After that, he jumped back down to help Liam deepen the grave further. While they could have kept it shallow for time's sake, Mykola wanted to make it as close to the standard depth as possible to avoid any awkward questions. But they pushed themselves to work as rapidly as they could, for Mykola worried that if Tolar came upon them while they were still digging, the other fox might insist on seeing the body within the sheet. If the "body" already been interred beneath the earth, Tolar would hopefully be content to let the matter lie.
When they'd reached what Mykola deemed to be the appropriate depth, the lip of the grave coming up well past Liam's chest, they jumped up and lowered the earth-filled sheet into it.
"Wait here," Mykola ordered. "I'm going to fetch some of the other troops to help us refill the grave."
Liam looked up in surprise. "But, I thought we were gonna do this alone…"
"Yes, but it will help our story if we can arrange to have one or two additional 'witnesses' to say they saw Wolfrum's body, even if it was wrapped in a sheet. Machus will be less likely to suspect anything if he hears from somebeasts other than us that I did indeed carry out the execution as ordered."
The rat nodded in understanding. "Well, let's just hope yer made-up corpse looks believable…"
Mykola went off to find his unwitting co-conspirators, returning shortly afterwards with two ferrets. One of them was Veach, who'd provided most of Wolfrum's quarterstaff "training" earlier that day. Led to the grave, the two newcomers glanced down at the "body" lying at the bottom of it. Neither seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. Of course, when measures like these were necessary, it was always best not to look too closely, not to question and, most of all, to do exactly what you were told to get it all over with as quickly as possible.
Still, Veach was hardly content to keep his personal feelings regarding Wolfrum to himself.
"Fttin' end fer that bastard. Kinda surprised you favoured that scum with a burial shroud t'all."
"Even somebeast like Wolfrum deserves some basic dignity at the very last," Mykola responded, knowing that such a remark would be perfectly in keeping with how the troops knew he regarded the army's misfits. "Now help us refill the grave and be done with this."
With this extra muscle and the additional shovel the ferrets had brought with them, the earth was quickly filled back into the "grave" as Mykola stood aside, overseeing the final stages of this operation. After Liam finished tamping down the mound with the flat of his shovel, the four of them left without any last words, the rat and the ferrets once again settling down amongst their comrades, who seemed decidedly uncomfortable with what had just happened - or at least what they understood as having just happened. Unpopular as Wolfrum had been, and as much as he'd deserved his fate for what he'd done, it was never easy to know that one of your fellow soldiers had been put to death.
"It's up to me now," Mykola whispered to Liam as they parted company for the night. "Get some rest. We'll talk again tomorrow."
The rat nodded, clearly nervous about whether they would get away with what they'd done, and Mykola exited the forest to return to the Abbey. However, before he reached it he saw Tolar rounding the eastern side of the wall, walking towards him.
Mykola breathed a sigh of relief; he'd managed to finish just in time. Now he mentally steeled himself; he'd never lied to a superior before, but that was precisely what he'd have to do now.
Meeting up with his short-legged subordinate, Tolar wasted no time inquiring how things had gone.
"He's dead," Mykola told him. "I did exactly as you said: I exited Redwall through the east wallgate and made my way to where the soldiers were camped. When the others noticed me striding forward, sword in paw, they dispersed and left Wolfrum all to me. He tried to run when he saw me, but didn't get far on that damaged footpaw of his. I followed him a way into the forest to spare the others from witnessing what had to be done, then I brought him to the ground, told him I was sorry for what I had to do and then…"
He made a paw gesture across his throat. Tolar nodded grimly.
"After that, I followed your advice and buried him immediately. Liam and I dug the grave where Wolfrum fell, and we had two of the ferrets help us refill it, since we were pretty tired by then. Veach and Uliam, I think they were. Oh, and I also wrapped Wolfrum in a white sheet as a shroud before he was lain to his final rest. I know you might regard it as an undeserving gesture, but… Well, it was my final parting gift to him, in a way…"
"I understand," Tolar responded. "I must say, I'm impressed by how quickly you managed to get Wolfrum buried. You must've really put your backs into it…"
Mykola cursed inwardly. He'd known it might look suspicious, hurrying to have the grave dug before Tolar showed up, as if they actually wanted to hide something from him, but that particular risk had been unavoidable. Now that Tolar had commented on it, Mykola tried out the answer he'd started preparing in his mind the moment he decided to spare Wolfrum.
"I just wanted the whole thing over with before you came. I mean no offense, but I thought that if you were there you might've said things about Wolfrum, made the whole thing rather uncomfortable…"
Fortunately, Tolar cut him off with a dismissive paw gesture. "It's all right, Mykola. You don't have to explain. As long as Wolfrum is dead, and this whole business is out of our fur, that's all that matters."
Mykola nodded, heaving an inward sigh of relief. Apparently, Tolar didn't suspect in his wildest imaginings that Mykola would go against the direct orders of Machus and let a condemned criminal go free. Even if that criminal had been a close charge and a friend.
"Go get some sleep now," Tolar continued. "You must be tired, and I think you've earned a good rest tonight. I'll go check to make sure that the soldiers are all right and that everything went smoothly."
"Thank you, sir," Mykola answered, continuing on his way toward the eastern wallgate. He still wasn't out of danger; if Tolar decided to question Liam, would the rat sergeant be able to keep his cool enough to lie straight to the swordfox's face? Would Liam be able to give the same account of things that Mykola had? And while the two ferrets might prove valuable witnesses and weren't in on the deception, their ignorance of what had really happened might cause some discrepancies with his story if anybeast was questioned too closely.
He also couldn't help but wonder what would happen when they rejoined Lord Urthblood. Even if Mykola got away with what he'd done here and his comrades and superiors believed him, the crimson-armoured Badger Lord possessed the extraordinary ability to detect the most well-told lies; at least the fox had never heard of anybeast who'd succeeded in deceiving Urthblood to his face. As long as Machus accepted Mykola's account and took it as the truth, the badger shouldn't be able to detect anything amiss - provided Urthblood stopped at questioning the Sword and didn't investigate further. But what if that grim warlord demanded to speak with Mykola or Liam? It wasn't likely, but if did come to pass, neither would be able to hide what they'd done from Urthblood's prophetic sight, and then they'd probably both be executed for their deception. Although by that time, at least Wolfrum would be long gone, hopefully far beyond the reach of the badger's soldiers to hunt him down. If he survived his lonely flight through the woods, that was…
And even if he and Liam did get away with it altogether, the fact remained that he had disobeyed Machus' decree and broken his promise to the Sword, deliberately this time. However things turned out, that would always tug at Mykola's conscience. And had he really done the right thing? Machus had valid reasons for wanting Wolfrum killed, and not all of them had to do with discipline. What if Mykola had set a dangerous delinquent loose on Mossflower? What if the mercy he'd shown the rat was lost on Wolfrum, leading to the misfortune of other beasts at the paws of a creature incapable of learning from and appreciating that mercy? What would become of his former charge, in the end?
He realized it was pointless to trouble himself over these worries now, however. What was done was done; either Mykola would get away with his actions and be proven right in the end, or he would not. Now it was in the paws of fate, and whatever powers watched over Mossflower would determine what would happen to everybeast involved.
Reaching the eastern gate, he bade the otter guards to admit him. Back inside, he headed past the orchard towards the main Abbey building. Mykola would be quite lucky to get some sleep; some of his fellow foxes had been on duty for over a day. Machus would be spending the night in the infirmary to watch over Cyrus, so Mykola was likely to be left quite alone this night… which suited him just fine.
Just as he was about to enter the Abbey on his way up to the dormitories, somebeast called out to him.
"Hey, Mikky…"
Glancing to his left, Mykola's mood darkened considerably as he saw Cadogan, who had stepped forward from behind one of the buttresses supporting the large section of the Abbey housing the dormitories and the infirmary. Apparently the shrew had been waiting here for quite some time.
"What are you doing here?" the fox muttered, less than pleased at encountering the creature who'd caused so much trouble and misery with his insults to Wolfrum, and gotten away with little more than a slap on the wrist for it. While all the rats, ferrets, stoats and weasels stationed at Redwall had been banished as a collective punishment for the deeds of Smallert and Wolfrum, the shrews had been exempted from this, because they had been given the duty of standing guard over Hanchett (although Mykola was certain that more than a little woodlander favouritism had factored into this decision). Quite ironic, since it was a shrew who'd instigated Wolfrum's lethal misbehavior.
"Couldn't sleep, so I figgered I may's well take a late-night stroll through th' fair grounds o' Redwall," Cadogan responded with faux innocence.
"I see," the fox remarked sceptically. "And I suppose it has nothing to do with this being the night when your favourite punching bag was about to be executed?"
Cadogan shrugged. "That too. I allers like t' make sure villains like him get wot's comin' to 'em." Stepping closer and lowering his voice, the shrew asked, "By th' way, I 'eard you took it 'pon yerself to carry out the execution. That true?"
"It is."
"And… didja do it? Is Wolfrum really dead now?"
"Yes…" Mykola answered almost inaudibly.
Cadogan's face suddenly shone as if with joy, and he stepped forward to give the fox a congratulatory pat on his shoulder. "Well done, Mikky! I knew y' had it in you! T'was afraid there fer awhile you'd gone all soft 'n' weak, what with yer constant weepin' over scum like that rat, but you've shown now that ye're a true soldier. Glad you finally realized what a rotten bastard Wolfrum was an' put him outta all our misery. Just hold that attitude in mind in th' future, an' you'll earn back th' respect an' admiration of everybeast in this army that you almost threw away."
Then he stood back, gazing up at the fox with a self-satisfied grin on his features.
There were so many things Mykola could have said to the shrew at that moment. There were so many things Mykola wished he could've doneto the shrew at that moment. But right then he had no strength for any further altercations, and decided to end their chat so he could get some rest.
"Cadogan…?" he said, every ounce of his weariness evident in his voice.
"Yes?"
"Fuck off."
Then he turned to limp through the doorway and up to the dormitories to enjoy a night's sleep in one of Redwall's famous beds, leaving the shrew behind in stunned amazement and, blessedly, silence.
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The next day dawned clear and bright over Mossflower, a day which made it hard to believe such evil deeds could have taken place on the one before. The foxes came down from their walltop duty to be relieved by a fresh crew of otters and squirrels, and the swordsbeasts headed off to their rooms for the first sleep many of them would have in two days.
Since Mykola had already been enjoying rest that night, he woke shortly after dawn and accompanied Korix for a brief foray out the south wallgate to check on the banished vermin. The soldiers displayed a muted bitterness over what most saw as an unfair punishment of all for the actions of a few, as well as agitation over what had taken place during the night, but the authority and presence of the swordfoxes quickly cowed them.
They also made a quick trip to Wolfrum's "grave." Mykola masked well his nervousness at being so close to the empty grave in the presence of a fellow swordfox, but Korix seemed to accept Mykola's account of the events without reservation. One quick look at the overturned, packed earth was all Korix needed to satisfy himself that Wolfrum was finally dead.
After heading back to the Abbey to join their fellows for a bite of breakfast in Great Hall, Mykola parted ways with Korix, ascending to the Infirmary to check up on the wounded mouse Cyrus. The youth truly did look to be out of danger, resting in his sickbed almost like a child merely asleep rather than somebeast who'd sustained nearly fatal wounds the day before. The mood of joy and hope in the sickbay was palpable, as was the gratitude and appreciation shown to Machus.
Seeking out his Sword, who'd already been informed of the night's events by Tolar, Mykola asked to spend part of his day's shift watching over the banished soldiers outside. His request granted, Mykola proceeded outdoors. Noon found him seated on the ground relaxing against the south Abbey wall, monitoring the soldiers at the forest's edge as they milled about, nibbling on their hardtack rations (a tasteless meal made all the moreso by the food they'd recently been treated to inside Redwall). Most made a show of pointedly ignoring the swordfox whose keen vision, even at this distance, was sure to miss no detail or any trouble any of them planned to start.
In truth, Mykola, with so much on his mind, was only giving the vermin troops half his attention. Machus, Tolar and the others seemed to have accepted his version of events, and so long as Urthblood didn't seek to question him about it at some future time, he and Liam might just get by with their masquerade.
Then there was the matter of Smallert. Mykola had heard before venturing outside that the hare Hanchett had indeed spared his unwilling weasel cellmate, moved by Smallert's outpouring of remorse and self-loathing. Apparently Machus was less than satisfied with Hanchett's display of magnanimity, having hoped the hare would act to get Smallert out of his fur permanently. Mykola, however, was glad things had turned out this way - and not just because he didn't think Smallert deserved death. If the weasel had been put to death inside Redwall without the permission of the Abbess, relations between Northlanders and Redwallers could have suffered, negating the trust Machus had gained by saving Cyril. For now, it was agreed that Smallert would enjoy a few more days of life, apparently as part of some scheme to let the hare out of his cell without being able to escape from the Abbey.
Contention also festered over the fate of Wolfrum. While the (supposed) execution had been performed outside the Abbey's walls, Abbess Vanessa was rankled that such a death sentence had been passed without consulting Redwall's leaders. Machus and Mina, after initially telling the Abbess that Wolfrum might've run off in the night, or been dispatched by his resentful fellow soldiers, were at last forced to confess that they'd ordered the rat killed. This feeble attempt at deception on their part secretly provided Mykola with some morbid amusement. While it wasn't uncommon to mistakenly misstate the facts of a matter, it was considerably rarer to tell a lie that accidentally happened to be the truth.
And then there was Wolfrum himself. Mykola had of course been thinking a lot about him, and last night's events, since yesterday. Even aside from the moral issue of whether it was right to spare the rat after what he'd done and what he might conceivably do in the future, there was also the question of whether he'd survive his flight at all. With that wounded footpaw of his, and no weapons or supplies except the bandage Mykola had given him, his immediate fate was far from certain. If he succumbed to starvation, disease or the enmity of any hostile beasts he encountered, it might've been more merciful if Mykola really had simply killed and buried him in accordance with the Sword's orders.
He wondered where Wolfrum was right now… and what would become of him.
His ponderings were interrupted then by the approach of Liam, and the fox didn't mind being broken out of his reverie by the rat sergeant.
"Hullo, Mikky," Liam greeted him with a faint smile. "How're ya doing?"
"As well as can be expected, considering the circumstances," Mykola answered. "And you?"
"Pretty much th' same. So, um, mind if I join you?"
"You should know better than having to ask me that by now."
"Well, with that air o' cold, distant authority you foxes wrap yerselves with," Liam said as he sat down by Mykola's side, "a beast kinda gets inta th' habit of askin' permission fer anything. 'Sides, everybeast needs its alone time once in a while."
"True," Mykola admitted. "But right now I don't mind a bit of company."
Liam threw a few apprehensive glances around them, and up towards the battlements as well. "Well, we got a lot t' talk about, but I dunno if it's wise to do it here…"
"No, I don't think it is," the fox agreed prudently.
Nodding in silent agreement, Liam chose his next words carefully, wanting to communicate his thoughts and concerns to his friend without verbally acknowledging their secret. "Well, I hope it turns right in the end."
"We all do, Liam."
Realizing there was no practical way to openly discuss what was really on their minds about the previous night's conspiracy, the rat decided to catch up on recent events instead. "So, d'you know what's happened to Smallert?"
"Yes. He's still alive," Mykola said, relating the details of Smallert's imprisonment with the Long Patrol hare and what Machus planned to do with him now that Hanchett had failed to dispose of the weasel. "He'll have a few days left in life, at the most."
"I see." The rat nodded sadly. "I know 'im, a little. Seems a nice, kindhearted creature. Dunno what possessed him t' do what he did, but I don't think he deserves death. We all saw just how remorseful he was when he saw how he'd wounded that mouse an' slain poor Speeg. Certainly more remorseful than…"
He trailed off, deciding Mykola needed no reminder of Wolfrum's pathetic and reprehensible display during the previous day's sad incident.
Fortunately, the fox kept his calm and introspective demeanor. "Yes, he was. I wish Machus would show more forgiveness toward him, but that Sword is still too upset over the damage done to our relations with Redwall to be in any mood for mercy. Under other circumstances I might try to plead with him on Smallert's behalf, but considering that I've already done so for Wolfrum, it might not be wise to push him too far in such matters."
Liam leaned forward to whisper, "Well, if 'ee makes it through this whole thing with 'is life, I hope he learns from it an' carries it with him fer the rest o' his days…"
Mykola looked toward the rat sergeant quizzically, unsure exactly which beast he'd been referring to, but Liam had already moved on to the next subject. "What about that mousechild… Cyric, weren't it? Will 'ee be a'right?"
"Cyrus? Yes, I was up in the infirmary earlier, and it seems he's mostly out of danger. His color has returned almost to normal, and his breathing was deep and full. I'd never have believed anybeast could recover so quickly from such terrible wounds, but Machus must have treated him more effectively than I could have imagined."
"Yeah, that Machus is a real miracle-worker with his healing skills," Liam agreed.
"Indeed. When I visited the Infirmary, I could truly sense just how grateful the Redwallers were toward him. I know some of these woodlanders would never have considered showing admiration or respect for a fox before we came here, but the appreciation and gratitude everybeast exhibited was astounding!"
The rat sergeant contemplated Mykola's words, then his face split into a fang-filled beam of encouragement. "Y' know, p'raps somethin' positive came from this sad event after all."
"What do you mean?" Mykola inquired.
"Well, this incident might've allowed Machus, an' mebbe even his swordfoxes and us vermin, t' grow closer to th' Redwallers than we woulda otherwise. Let's face it, what happened yesterday coulda shattered our relations beyond repair, but now that 'ee's saved young Cyrus, Machus may've forged a bond o' friendship better'n any we coulda hoped for. Not sayin' t'was a good thing we lost Speeg an' the mouse got wounded, but it does seem to've led to some good things too. Funny how the forces o' fate play out sometimes, but oftimes… What?"
Liam noticed that a shocked, confused and even frightened expression had suddenly twisted Mykola's face. Why that was, the rat couldn't fathom.
"Mikky, what's th' matter?"
For long moments Mykola could only stare into the distance, intent distress warping his features, his breath actually starting to come in quick, shallow gasps. Then he stuttered, "N-Nothing, Liam. I just… I just have to be left alone for awhile… Please, let me be alone…"
And then he rose to his feet and hurried away, his limping gait exaggerated by his mood, and disappeared behind the east corner of the Abbey.
Liam was left alone on the grass outside the southern wall, dumbstruck by his fox friend's behaviour. What could he possibly have said to cause Mykola such distress? But then he too rose and strode after the Mykola, almost angrily, determined to get some answers.
Rounding the corner, he found the short-legged fox standing beneath the trees of the forest fringe with his back to the Abbey, about a stone's throw away from the east wall. Liam briskly walked toward him.
"No, I ain't gonna leave you be when ye're upset like this," he said stubbornly. "Ye're gonna tell me jus' what I said t' make you feel this away, an' – "
Grabbing the fox by the shoulder and spinning him around, Liam was stunned to see that Mykola was crying. The fox's arms hung limply at his side, his head bowed and his eyes closed while tears streamed down his cheeks to the accompaniment of suppressed sobs.
It was an utterly unmilitary sight; the rank-and-file soldiers considered crying to be a sign of weakness, and this held doubly for the officers who had to maintain their hard and disciplined facade. Even Mykola, widely recognized as more emotional and kindhearted than his equals, would have to feel uncomfortable with crying in private, let alone out in the open where the lowly soldierbeasts, his fellow foxes and civilian beasts might see him. Such a display would surely further lower the opinion many held of him. But at that moment he didn't seem to care. He simply stood there, miserable and despondent, allowing the tears to flow freely.
Liam, still unable to imagine what might have elicited such a reaction, leaned forward to ask gently, "Mykola, what'd I say that made you so upset? I don't understand…"
"Do you think that's why he was left at the Abbey?" Mykola asked in return.
"Who?"
"Wolfrum. We've been wondering why he of all creatures was chosen to remain behind at Redwall when the army left for Salamandastron. Do… do you suppose it could be that Lord Urthblood foresaw what would happen? Could he have perceived this tragedy, but allowed it to happen anyway because it would make Machus a hero to the Abbeydwellers?"
Liam was speechless at first. Then he tried to lighten the mood with a nervous laugh. "C'mon, Mikky, don't be silly! Even if Lord Urthblood coulda foreseen such an event, an' somehow knew it'd strengthen relations 'tween himself 'n' Redwall, that'd still mean he was willin' t' sacrifice Wolfrum, Smallert an' Speeg ... an' mebbe that mousechild as well, if Machus wasn't able t' save 'im, which woulda sunk th' whole scheme anyway. Can't you hear how ridiculous that sounds? He never woulda done somethin' like that." But then a shadow of doubt crossed Liam's face. "I mean, would 'ee…?"
Mykola gazed upon the rat with tearstained eyes. "I… I just don't know. I don't know if I can ever be sure about anything about that badger anymore."
For some reason, Liam was reminded of their meal in the orchard with Wolfrum two or three days ago (how distant that time seemed after everything that had happened since), when he and the other rat had joked about quitting Lord Urthblood's service and settling down at the Abbey. Mykola had been on the verge of considering such talk treasonous, yet the fox's present speculations concerning their badger master went far beyond banter about mere desertion. What Mykola now suggested would cast dire aspersions upon the very nature of Urthblood's purposes and motives.
Before Liam could comment on those seemingly perfidious words, Mykola pressed on. "What if that was the very reason Lord Urthblood spared him all those seasons ago, and let him join up with us? Everybeast among us has wondered many times why Wolfrum wasn't just slain along with the rest of his band, since he turned out to be such a troublemaker, and I always liked to believe it was because Lord Urthblood saw some promise for goodness within him that was simply lost on the rest of us. What if this was that promise? Could Lord Urthblood have kept Wolfrum on in spite of the many problems he would cause for the army, solely so that he could fulfil this purpose here at Redwall, and then be discarded after he'd done what was required of him?"
The rat was dumbfounded by those words - not so much because Mykola had the temerity to speak them aloud as because he was starting to fear that there might be some truth to them. But still, he had to try to talk the fox out of it.
"Mikky, he joined up with us eight seasons ago! Anything coulda happened in th' time since then. There's no way Lord Urthblood coulda predicted this would happen at Redwall!"
"Isn't there? Liam, there's so much I don't understand about fate and destiny and such arcane matters. I've heard beasts say you 'can't go against it,' that whatever happens does so because it was predetermined. I've heard Lord Urthblood talk about the future as if it's already happened, that he is absolutely certain some things will turn out one way or the other. And how he's supposed to be able to look into somebeast's eyes and tell whether that creature can turn out good or is beyond redemption. How could he do any of that, if the future hasn't already been decided to some extent? And if we go by that route… could yesterday's tragedy have been the entire reason Wolfrum was born?"
Liam couldn't believe his ears. "But… that's just insane! Wolfrum didn't even wield th' blade that did th' damage! D'you honestly think fer a moment that Wolfie's entire life was just about gettin' Speeg an' Cyrus mortally wounded by riling up Smallert? That's…that's..."
"Crazy? Maybe, but what if it's the truth? If the future is determined to the point that Lord Urthblood can predict it like he does, maybe Wolfrum was destined from birth to do what he did. And maybe Smallert was destined to go berserk and kill Speeg, who was destined to die upon the lawns of Redwall, and wound Cyrus, who was destined to be gravely injured and then saved by Machus, who was destined to become a hero to the Redwallers. And if Lord Urthblood foresaw all this and allowed it to happen anyway, then maybe it's because he too is simply following his own predetermined path through life…"
Having calmed himself somewhat to say all this, Mykola once again broke into heavy sobs, his breath ragged and discordant.
"And… and what if that's the case with all of us? What if we're all just… acting out parts in a play written at the dawn of Creation, unable to change our destiny or… or follow any other path than the one ordained for us? In that case, can Wolfrum be condemned for what he did, if he was doomed to commit his crime? Can… can the searats, slavers and all the villains we fight be condemned for what they do? And by the same token… what about creatures like us? I know you're a good soul, Liam… and I like to think I am too… but if we are just playing out those parts written for us, can we take any credit for whatever good qualities we have? We're just puppets dancing on the strings of whatever powers control the world…"
"Mykola, stop this! Ye're scaring me!"
"Well, why shouldn't you be scared?" the fox snapped back angrily at Liam, but immediately regretted his outburst. "I… I'm sorry, Liam… But everything just seems so confusing and uncertain right now. I know I should be a proper officer and an example to the rank-and-file, but I just can't do it now. I feel lost and frightened, as if…" His voice trailed off.
"As if…?" the rat inquired.
Mykola sighed, putting a tired paw to his forehead. "As if I don't even know what I'm living for anymore."
Liam just stood there in mute shock over his friend's words, unable to think of anything he could say that might comfort the distraught fox. After a lengthy silence, Mykola spoke again. "And it isn't just questions of prophecies and fate and destiny that trouble me. There was something Lady Mina said to me yesterday…"
He told Liam about the Gawtrybe Lady's harsh words in the orchard the night before, when she'd practically condemned him as detestable for his concern over beasts like Wolfrum - how it had made him feel empty and broken inside, and how her accusation had haunted him ever since.
"…and she said that I needed to 'grow up,' and that if I kept showing any compassion to such beasts, I'd be as much a lost cause as Wolfrum…"
The rat sergeant searched desperately for words to convince his friend otherwise. "Mikky, it… it ain't like that. Mina's a great warrior, greater'n I'll ever be, but she ain't all-knowin' 'bout eve'rything. She don't know what it's like bein' you, an' she sure as fur don't know what it's like bein' me. You don't hafta feel guilty over what she says, or take 'er every word t' heart…"
"Well, maybe I should," the fox cut him off. "Because… maybe she's right."
He looked away from Liam, staring sightlessly into the woods of Mossflower surrounding the Abbey, his expression and voice taking on a grim, harsh tone unusual for him.
"I mean, isn't it rather unethical to show such pity for evil beasts when others deserve it so much more? Maybe I am giving too much of myself to the wrong creatures. What have I been doing, really, wasting so much of my time with Wolfrum? What did it ultimately accomplish? I think… I think Mina was right. It's time I stop concerning myself so much with all the villains and nastybeasts in the world and refocused my attention on – "
Suddenly, Mykola felt a hard, stinging slap across his face. Rocked back on his heels from the blow, he raised a paw to the glowing heat spreading through his left cheek, staring in shock at the rat who'd delivered it. Liam stared back defiantly, refusing to be cowed or intimidated.
"I know I just struck a superior officer," he said before Mykola could speak. "If anybeast saw it an' reports me, I'll take th' consequences. Fur, if you wanna report it, I won't try'n stop you. They can give me twenty lashes, demote me, have me expelled from th' army… I don't care 'bout that now. All I care 'bout is breakin' you outta that cold'earted pit you fell inta, an' gettin' something inta that thick skull o' yours."
Liam may have been a mere sergeant, and a rat sergeant at that, outranked and outclassed and outmatched by any swordfox in Urthblood's army. Nevertheless, he now stepped forward until his whiskers nearly touched Mykola's, his eyes boring into the fox's, and spoke as if he were the Badger Lord himself giving a direct command to a fresh recruit.
"Don't you ever, ever, say anything like that again. Not t' yerself, not to any creature. 'Cos if you ever do, an' truly mean it, I won't ever be able t' forgive you fer it."
Giving those words a few moments to sink into the stunned fox, he then gripped both of Mykola's shoulders gently but firmly with his paws.
"Mikky… I'm just a lowly sergeant, not a seer or wisebeast. Ye're right t' say no ordinary creature can even begin t' work out all these issues 'bout destiny, fate, th' future or whether we're free in our choices, or if ev'rything's already been decided fer us. You can't, an' I can't neither. It's just too vast an' complex. But what I do know is, no matter what th' truth of the matter is, we can't live our lives without assumin' we do have th' power o' choice, that we can decide our futures an' steer our lives. If we don't, what's the fur-sodden point in going on? We may's well just lie down an' die in that case… if fate'd even allow us to.
"I mean, ain't the very point o' our campaigns to avert the crisis Lord Urthblood's foreseen? Why 'ud he even bother doin' that, if he didn't believe th' future can be changed? It's either that, or surrender t' despair 'cos we believe we're all doomed. If the future's preordained, then it don't matter anyway, does it? But if we are able t' make our own paths, we'd be fools t' waste th' chance an' give inta hopelessness!"
These words touched something within the fox, and soothed the despair he'd felt building up inside him. But Liam had more to say.
"As fer what Lady Mina said t' you yesterday, that's where she's comin' from. But she don't know us average soldierbeasts from rotten acorns. 'Course we want good 'n' innocent beasts t' prosper 'fore anything else. Mebbe yer outlook, an' mine too, ain't what she'd like it to be. But it ain't contrary to Lord Urthblood's law, no matter what she claims. I know this 'cos if it were, I'd be lyin' in a ditch somewhere instead o' holdin' a sergeant's rank in this army. She can call our sympathy feeble an' weak all she wants, but you 'n' me know better. An' I know one thing fer certain: it's a sign o' what a goodhearted, noble an' wonderful soul you are. If you was t' do as Mina says an' let go o' that part o' you, it wouldn't make you a greater beast - it'd reduce you ta somethin' much less.
"Y' know how it's said that all beasts, or at least all goodbeasts, have a special purpose in life? Ain't sure I believe that m'self, but let's say it's true. In that case, you could say th' purpose o' these Redwallers is to provide a sanctuary an' home fer all goodbeasts in need, t' take care o' them an' help them through their woes and sorrows. An' Lord Urthblood's purpose, an' ours too, is to create a new realm outta the lands, establishin' peace 'n' plenty fer its inhabitants, an' liberatin' those who're sufferin' under th' paws of evil beasts, makin' sure those villains will never trouble anybeast ever again. An' you know what I think th' purpose o' beasts like you 'n' me is?"
Mykola shook his head softly, guessing that Liam was about to supply his own answer.
"I think," Liam went on, "the purpose o' beasts like you an' me is t' show concern fer these evil souls, an' t' mourn over 'em. Our purpose is t' cry fer all th' murderers, slavers, bandits, thieves, scoundrels an' scum that nobeast else stops t' shed a tear fer. No matter how strange it might sound, I think somebeast hasta.
"Now some beasts, like Mina, would say it's immoral t' spare a care 'bout such villains when it takes away from showin' kindness to th' creatures they hurt. An' much as I'd like t' think our concern fer evil an' misbehavin' creatures doesn't mean we can't show it to th' good ones any less, it may be that we hafta devote less time to th' victims 'cos of it. Mina'd say it's wrong of us, but all I'd say is it's a tough choice we hafta make.
"Y'see, there's already so many beasts in th' world willin' t' show compassion, pity an' concern fer the innocent, an' who stir themselves t' help 'em… but almost nobeast willin' to do th' same fer those lost in th' ways of evil. There're so few who show any real desire t' help these creatures, to see 'em as anything but a vile menace to be put down fer the good of all, to mourn over their misfortunes whether they got their troubles through their own fault or no. An' 'cos we're so few in number, we gotta give all th' more of ourselves, 'cos nobeast else will.
"When you 'n' me come across such creatures, our first instinct is, and oughtta be, to help 'em an' show 'em a different path in life, even when everybeast else's given up on 'em or considers 'em unworthy o' any effort. I don't hafta tell you how many of 'em can't change, no matter how we'd be willin' t' help 'em, an' go to their graves without havin' reformed. Ev'rybeast deserves a chance at redemption an' fergiveness, but not ev'rybeast's able t' take it. Even so, we can't forget about 'em or lose our pity for 'em. If nothing else, we hafta mourn for what coulda happened, fer the beasts they coulda been if things'd just gone differently. An' if they truly were beyond help an' things really couldn'ta happened any other way… well, ain't that just as great a tragedy? That they was doomed t' walk on their path an' couldn't change it…"
Still keeping his paws on the fox's shoulders, he looked down and sighed.
"In all th' time I've served under Lord Urthblood, an' even 'fore that in my youth when I fought in a pillagin' horde 'longside my father, I've seen beasts who do… terrible things to others. I've seen all the misery that bandit gangs, or hordes like the one I belonged to, inflict upon their victims. An' I've seen what slavers do to the unfortunate beasts they slap in chains. Murder, torture, rape… when I was fortunate 'nuff not t' witness such things m'self, I still heard plenny o' stories secondpaw. An' it frightens me. It scares me that anybeast's capable of doin' such things t' others. It scares me to think what'll happen if we fail in our mission t' bring order an' security to th' lands. An' it scares me that I coulda so easily followed in their footsteps, if Lord Urthblood hadn't come along 'fore it was too late fer me."
He looked back up again, his eyes mournful and concerned.
"But what worries me most is that someday I'll come across an act so terrible, or a creature so vile, it'll make me lose my caring an' compassion. That all th' awful things I see durin' my travels will make me stop sympathizing with th' beasts we consider evil, that I'll become as harsh an' unforgiving as some in this army would want me t' be - as Lady Mina would want you t' be. That I'll lose a part o' myself I consider so vital an' precious.
"Yeah, you 'n' me're both able t' empathize with an' pity creatures like searat slavers, plunderin' thieves an' other villains, but that don't mean we excuse or forget their evil deeds. An' our first priority's allers gotta be stoppin' 'em from causin' harm to others, even if we hafta take their lives t' do so. An' just like ev'ry other soldier in this army, we allers gotta give comfort an' aid to all th' sufferin' goodbeasts of th' lands, an' not become so mired in our concern fer their tormentors that we forget about 'em instead. But even through all that, we gotta never lose sight o' who we are. True, it's our first duty t' look after th' welfare an' safety o' goodbeasts... but that comes naturally to any trained soldierbeast. It takes a great strength o' character, even if some might mock it as a weakness, to be willin' to extend that pity t' beasts we'd otherwise oppose, an' mebbe even hate. Never forget that, Mikky, an' don't lose that vital part o' yerself. 'Cos that'd be th' worst possible thing that could come outta these past few days."
He let go of Mykola's shoulders, looking gently and imploringly into the eyes of his vulpine companion.
"An' when you look back on yer seasons with Wolfrum, all th' times when you tried t' help him, all the trouble an' woes you went through but also th' good times you spent with 'im, never regret it, Mikky. If y' gotta regret anything, mebbe it could be that things didn't turn out like we all woulda wanted 'em to, but never regret the tryin'. 'Cos that's proof o' what a great, kind, an' amazing beast you are… an' how unbelieverbly grateful I am fer bein' able t' call you my friend."
For several more moments, the two of them just stood there on the verge of the forest outside the eastern wall of the Abbey, looking at each other, no words passing between them and no expressions betraying their thoughts. Then, Mykola reached out to his smaller partner, wrapping his paws around Liam's back while the rat returned the gesture, hugging his friend in the warmest, most sincere embrace he could ever remember giving anybeast. Once again tears welled up in the fox's eyes, trickling down his face and onto the rat's shoulder, but this time they were tears of joy, tears of hope, that truly felt good to shed.
It was an utterly unmilitary and undisciplined display that any proper swordfox would have frowned upon as sending the wrong image to the rank-and-file… and Mykola didn't care. Not at that moment. All that mattered was that he had somebeast like Liam in the world with him, somebeast who understood him so completely and shared his view on life and the world around them… and somebeast who could so effectively convince him to stay true to himself without caving in to the contempt and harsh words of his equals.
"Thank you, Liam… Thank you…" He could've said so much more to the rat, but he knew it wasn't necessary. Liam understood exactly how grateful the fox was to him, and didn't expect or demand any other words of appreciation.
"An' as fer Wolfrum," the rodent whispered soothingly into his ear, even though he knew nobeast else could hear them, "well, it may be up t' him now t' make 'is own way through life an' do th' best 'ee can with th' mercy you showed him, but allers have yer thoughts 'n' prayers with him, an' don't give up hope. Even if does stumble an' falter, even if he can't rise above 'imself in spite o' all you've done fer 'im an' he loses his life, remember it weren't never destined t' be that way. He coulda become diff'rent an' taken a better path, but time an' unfortunate circumstances happen to us all. All we can do is make th' best o' what we got, an' we hafta hope Wolfrum does that now. Don't give up hope, Mikky. There's always hope…"
Holding their embrace until both felt strengthened and replenished by it, fox and rat separated. Mykola pawed away the tears from his eyes and smiled at his dear friend. "I think I should go back inside now. They'll be wondering what I was doing out here, and if anybeast saw what we just did, I might have some explaining to do. Will you walk with me back to the wallgate?"
Liam smiled back. "You should know better'n havin' t' ask me that by now."
And so they turned to head back to the redbricked Abbey together, setting a deliberately slow pace to share each other's company awhile longer.
"Y' know," Liam said jokingly, "if they could make those kinda associations 'tween you 'n' Wolfrum based on that examination y' gave 'im under that spruce, whaddya think they'll make of what they just saw 'tween you 'n' me?"
"I don't know, Liam," the fox responded with mock-seriousness. "Let's hope they have better sense than that… though considering their history, I wouldn't hold my hopes too high if I were you."
The rat couldn't help but push the matter. "Y' wanna hold paws?" he teased.
"Bugger off!" the fox laughed. "Remember, I'm a swordfox. A softhearted, lame and foolish one, but a swordfox nonetheless. I can ignore whatever they say about me. You, on the other paw…"
"Yeah, I get ya," the rodent laughed back. Then he sighed. "Y'know, while I do love Redwall, I'm actually rather anxious t' be on th' road again. There's been so much unpleasant stuff goin' on here that really never shoulda happened, and it kinda taints th' whole experience. 'Sides, once we're done down here with Lord Urthblood's latest campaign and he's sorted out that mess with his brother, mebbe I could get re-assigned up north again. It's been too long since I visited my family…"
"Ah, yes," the fox replied, as they rounded the corner of the wall leading to the southern gate. "The village of Conwyn, wasn't it? Where your mother and younger brother live?"
"That's right. My brother's name's Kopec, by th' way; don't think I ever mentioned that. It'd do him some good t' see me again. He don't always get along well with other beasts, an' I'm one o' th' few he ever feels truly safe an' at peace with. Mother was a little disappointed he never chose t' join the army like I did, but I'm glad he never signed up. He shouldn't hafta see some o' the things I have, or be forced to submit to rigid hierarchy he'd never fit inta. Much better that he stays in Conwyn an' helps mother with her work."
They soon came to the southern wallgate. Mykola raised a paw to bid farewell to his rat friend but then paused as something else occurred to him.
"You know, what you said before, about feeling sympathy towards even the worst of villains, always having hope for everybeast and being all pitying and nice and all that… Does that apply to Cadogan too?" The fox said the last part with a sly grin.
A wicked smile spread across Liam's face. "Nah! Cadogan's th' one exception. T' Hellgates with him!"
The two friends shared a hearty laugh over this. Once their merriment subsided, Liam continued, "O' course we hafta extend our sympathy t' that louse. If we c'n give it to Wolfrum, we'd be th' worst kind o' hypocrites if we didn't do it fer Cadogan too. But I admit it's difficult sympathizin' with some nastybeasts sometimes… 'specially when they're respected, secure nastybeasts that get away with their misdeeds by puttin' the blame on others an' never get reprimanded themselves…"
Mykola put on a knowing smirk. "Maybe he had a bad childhood?"
Liam did the same. "Maybe 'ee's got a wife 'n' three kids t' support, an' the stresses of army life makes him take out his frustrations on others?"
The fox shot back with yet another suggestion. "Maybe he helps old shrew wives across the road and gives sweets to orphaned youngsters when nobeast is looking?"
The two friends broke into another fit of laughter, causing some of the otters standing lookout on the ramparts above to glance down at them in puzzlement.
"All that could be true," Liam giggled as their merriment subsided. "But in this story, I'm 'fraid he's just th' rude, arrogant liddle bonehead that caused so much trouble fer Wolfrum, us, an' ev'rybeast else."
After that they said their goodbyes, Liam heading back to rejoin his comrades in the southern meadow while Mykola was readmitted through the east wallgate, his talk with his rat friend leaving him with a joyful energy that rendered his limp barely noticeable as he once again strolled upon the fair grounds of Redwall Abbey.
THE END