CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

The first thing everybeast noticed upon passing through the Abbey gates was the tents.

Even the families of Neblett and Deakyne, who'd never been to Redwall before, were struck by this incongruity. Spread out among all the symbols of permanence - the main Abbey building, the gatehouse cottage, the belltower, the orchard, the pond, the all-enclosing outer wall - stood a veritable village of tarps stretched out between tree branches and erected as crude lean-to shelters. The hasty, patchwork aspect of these temporary structures was so at odds with everything else about the scene, it was easy to draw the wrong conclusions.

"Why, Abbot," Deakyne remarked, "have we arrived on some kind of festival day?"

But Lord Sodexo, familiar with Redwall from his previous visits, knew at a glance the wrongness of the arrangement that met his eye - and, unlike his mouse and vole companions, his scrutiny went right to the creatures milling around the tents and sheltering under them.

"Rats," the badger declared. "These are all rats. Abbot Geoff, just how many of these beasts have you taken in?"

"Not quite ninescore," Geoff replied. "As you can see, it's made things rather crowed around here."

Grayfoot, eyes wide, asked, "An' th' Gawtrybe 've let you get away with this?"

"They've not made it easy on us, I can tell you that. But even the Gawtrybe must be made to understand that what happens within these walls falls under the mandate of Redwall, and not even Lord Urthblood's edicts can supersede the decisions we make about our own home. These rats have, with compelling reason, asked for sanctuary here, and it was incumbent upon us to grant it, once we'd heard them out." Geoff's gaze went to Matowick. "I imagine the Captain here has come regarding this very matter, but I cannot imagine what he might have to offer us that the Gawtrybe haven't covered with us already."

"Let us just say, Abbot, that Lord Urthblood deems this situation important enough to merit further discussion, and dispatched me here for that purpose. Whether our talks will amount to anything or advance this stalemate beyond where it is now, we won't know until we try. But for now, if you'll pardon me ... " Having spotted Mina among those greeting the travellers, Matowick crossed the grounds to her and gave a bow before her that had him almost prostrate to the lawn. "My Lady, what an honor to stand before you again!"

"Greetings, Captain. Has Lord Urthblood sent you to relieve Captain Custis?"

Rising, Matowick answered, "On the contrary, His Lordship seems quite satisfied with the job Custis is doing here in Mossflower. My mission is of a more temporary nature, and I hope to be returning to Salamandastron forthwith."

"I imagine you would prefer that. Wasn't your wife with child?"

"Indeed she is, Lady. She was due around this time, in fact, and may even have given birth already."

"And Lord Urthblood dispatched you to Redwall anyway? He must place great importance upon this mission indeed."

"You have no idea. Lady, is there someplace we may go and speak privately?"

Colonel Clewiston, standing near enough to overheard their conversation, broke in on the squirrels' talk. "Wot ho, wot? Last time one of your bushtails showed up at our gates askin' to speak with Madam Quiver here behind closed doors, turned out you were keepin' an entire blinkin' campaign from us. Don't think Abbot'd like havin' the wool pulled over his bally eyes a second time, don'tcha know."

Mina bristled. "The campaign is open knowledge now, so there's not anything left to hide from Redwall's leaders."

"'ceptin' maybe Bloodface's response, an' wot he's got up his remaining sleeve now. But, if there's really nothing to hide, you can just jolly well say wot you've got to say right here in the open, where all th' rest of us can hear it too."

"It's a private matter," Matowick replied stiffly, "and one that can wait until such time as there are no rude interlopers prying their way in." He glanced around. "So, Lady, is your husband about? All the Northlands were abuzz when we first received word of the betrothal between our High Lady and Redwall's squirrel chief. I very much look forward to meeting him."

"He is out on patrol," Mina said simply, although her tone conveyed much beyond the simple.

"Patrol?" Matowick was clearly puzzled. "But, the Gawtrybe patrol Mossflower now ... "

"My husband, it seems, see things differently."

Matowick nodded slowly, in grim comprehension. "Just how bad are relations with Redwall?"

"I deem Tolar and his foxes are still viewed as friends, and would be welcome here. The same probably could not be said of the Gawtrybe. Then again, no swordfoxes ever threatened to place Redwall under siege, or set up a cordon around the Abbey. Tolar has yet to fully engage in our resettlement campaign, and it's possible he never will, providing only a support role in these operations. As long as that remains the case, our fox allies might be uniquely qualified and positioned to play the peacemaker role in all of this. I'm not entirely sure yet just what your purpose here entails, but shall I have Tolar summoned to act as moderator between you and the Redwallers?"

Matowick shook his head. "That won't be necessary, Lady. I do not foresee things becoming that involved."

"Oh. Do you know how long you'll be staying?"

"Only as long as it takes, and no more."

"Hmm. I am not sure whether to take that as boding well, or ill. In any case, I will do what I can to help make your venture here a success."

"Thank you, Lady. I will hold you to that."

Over by the other Abbey leaders, Harth came storming up from where he'd stood looking on with his rats. "Abbot, what's th' meaning of this? What're these armed menaces doin' in here? An' why ain't they been made to surrender their weapons?"

Geoff glanced the Gawtrybes' way. "Oh, yes, they do still have their bows and quivers, don't they? Must have been an oversight, with everything else that was going on. But you needn't worry, General - Captain Matowick assures me that he'll cause no trouble while he's here, and his purpose is apparently diplomatic, not militaristic. If Lord Urthblood harbored darker designs against us, he'd surely have sent more than six squirrels, would he have not?"

"What if he's lyin'?" Harth gave the Northlanders a merciless glare, which Matowick didn't flinch from returning.

"Say that again to my face, rat."

"I'll say whatever I please, after how you lot murdered two o' my rats an' bottled th' rest of us up in here under pain of slavery if we try t' leave."

Mina put a restraining paw on Matowick's shoulder. "Don't even bother, Captain - it's not worth your breath."

"You're probably right, Lady," Matowick conceded, and turned away from Harth with bad grace. The rat, however, wasn't finished.

"So, are y' gonna make 'em give up their weapons, Abbot? You made us give up ours, an' we're not even th' ones holding Redwall under siege."

Geoff sighed. "Yes, you do have a point. Captain Matowick, may I presume upon you and your Gawtrybe to give over your weapons to our Abbey defenders for the duration of your stay with us?"

"I'd rather not," came the reply, surprising everybeast within earshot. "We might be called upon at any moment to hasten back to Salamandastron, or onward to Foxguard, and if speed is of the essence, we cannot be chasing around all over the Abbey to retrieve our rightful and necessary property."

Geoff frowned. "I suppose that is a valid concern, so we will not make you chase around for it if the need arises. Please give your bows, quivers and blades to Colonel Clewiston and his Long Patrol, and we will make certain they are neatly stacked just inside the main gate, where you may collect them in a trice on your way out if need be. Is that a compromise you can live with?"

Matowick seemed about to balk at even this, but a subtle look and nod from Mina made him reconsider. "Very well," he said, removing his bow and indicating to his comrades to do the same. Passing them to the hares, he instructed, "I shall want these in plain sight at all times, out in the open where we can see them, and nobeast else is to touch them."

"Oh, rotters. I was going to give them to our young ones to play with - or maybe to those rats instead. How's about I have them put outside our main gate? That way, you can grab them as you're leaving, seein' as how you'd've already left by then, wot?"

Glowering, Matowick said to Mina, "I see our Long Patrol friends are still the same as always."

"And I suspect they always will be. But don't let their attitude toward toward us put you off, Captain. They're as stalwart and dedicated defenders of this Abbey as anybeast could ask."

Clewiston grunted, unable to tell whether the Gawtrybe Lady had told Matowick this to reassure him, or to let him know who to target first if his squirrels had mischief in mind.

Geoff looked to Harth as the Gawtrybe surrendered their arms. "There, is that better?"

"Better," the rat grudgingly conceded. "But, I'd still watch 'em, Abbot. I'd watch 'em real close. I know I will."

"Our verminy chap may be right about that," Clewiston said softly, sauntering over to Geoff so as not to be easily overheard by Mina and Matowick. "Might I recommend having tonight's gate watch be made up of Alex's Forest Patrol? I'd wager Urthblood's bushtails would be less likely to tangle with their fellow squirrels than anybeast else."

"That would be fine, Colonel, if most of the Forest Patrol weren't out canvassing Mossflower as we speak."

"They oughtta be back well before nightfall, shouldn't they?"

"We can only hope. But what are you so concerned about? As you see, the Captain has just given over all his weapons."

"It only takes one pair of paws to unbolt a gate, an' who knows how many of their co-conspirators might be massed outside our walls waiting to pounce upon such a duplicitous opening?"

"Ideally, Alex will be able to tell us exactly that when he returns from his patrolling. In the meantime, we'll treat Captain Matowick's party as the honest travellers they claim to be. The defense of Redwall is in your paws until then, Colonel, and I'll leave it to you to do as you see fit in this regard."

Turning to everybeast else, Geoff announced, "Let us all go inside, so that you can rest up from your journeys and be treated to a proper Redwall welcome. We can talk further while seated at table, over refreshments. And for those of you who've never visited our fair home before, I promise you nothing less than the very best we have to offer."

"At least there'll be more room for 'em," Log-a-Log muttered from alongside the Colonel as all the woodlanders filed inside, "now that all those ex-slaves've bugged out on us."

"Still not space enuff," Clewiston replied, "since Cavern Hole's about the only place 'round here that's been emptied."

Meanwhile, far above the Abbey lawns, two intently staring eyes peered out from behind the dingy windows of a high attic chamber. Watching the last of the newcomers disappear into the Abbey, Vanessa lightly clapped her paws together in eager anticipation, careful not to make too much noise even though she was entirely alone in the disused storage space.

The last of the necessary players in this grand train of events had finally arrived, and now it was time to give a push to the boulder that balanced precariously on the precipice, and see where it would roll - and what would be left in its wake after it had passed.

00000000000

"Halt! In the name of Lord Urthblood!"

Elmwood, marching alongside Alexander, muttered, "Here it comes ... "

Alex threw a glance over his shoulder at the four adult rats - two male, two female - whom his patrol group was escorting through the woods. "Well, we knew it would. I'd hoped we'd be able to get a little closer to the Abbey before we were stopped. Wishful thinking, I suppose. But just stand firm, and we'll tough our way through this. Remember, we've got forces down here on the ground and up in the trees covering us."

"Yeah," Elmwood worried, "but so do they."

Sergeant Chetwynd dropped out of the forest canopy directly before them, flanked by two of his fellow Gawtrybe. A rustling in the branches above all around told Alex that, true to Elmwood's prognosis, many more of the Northlanders had arrived on the scene besides the trio before them, and even now squared off against the Abbey squirrels covering Alexander's own group on the ground. This would have to be handled very delicately to avoid violence, but Alex stood determined not to yield.

"What are you doing with these rats, Redwaller?" Chetwynd demanded.

"They are under the protection of the Abbey, and are being conducted there for the sanctuary they've invoked. Now please step aside and let us pass."

"The protection of Redwall? By whose order? Who granted them such protection?"

"I did. When we encountered them in the nearer woods on our patrol and it became clear they were fleeing your Purge. We agreed to escort them the rest of the way, to make sure they arrived safely."

"I'm afraid you seriously misunderstand the situation in Mossflower now, friend. The only claims of Redwall's protection we acknowledge are those issued by the Abbot himself, and then only for beasts already inside the Abbey walls. In wider Mossflower, Lord Urthblood's laws hold sway. Those rats are ours, so kindly step back and let us take custody of them."

"Sorry, but I can't do that. I have given these creatures my word, and the promise of a Redwaller is not given lightly. They are under my protection, and I take my pledge in such matters very seriously."

"It was not your word to give. You should have thought of that before issuing any promises you would not be able to keep."

"These were our woods long before you Gawtrybe came along, and long before Urthblood ever set foot in Mossflower. If you wanted these rats so badly, you should have gotten to them before we did. But I am not surrendering them to you, or to anybeast."

Behind Alexander, the four rats shuffled and fidgeted with increasing nervousness, anxious to see how this would play out - and whether their future held the tolerable imprisonment within Abbey walls, or the soul-crushing sentence of exile to the Searat Empire.

"You have the latitude of making your own decisions. I have no such luxury, or freedom; Lord Urthblood's orders in these matters are crystal clear. These rats cannot be allowed to go to Redwall."

Alex and Elmwood and the other Abbey squirrels on the ground closed ranks around the four fretful rats. "You're not getting them - not without a fight. And if you fight us, you fight Redwall."

"I'd be curious to hear what your Abbot would say to that. Does he even know you're out here, engaged in such folly?"

"Do not presume to know my own Abbot's mind better than I do."

Chetwynd gave a resigned sigh, which Alex and his companions mistook for one of defeat. "I will not fight you, Redwaller, because that is not my mandate." The Gawtrybe sergeant retreated slightly, as did his two fellows. The Abbeybeasts and their rat charges relaxed, perceiving this confrontation to have been resolved in their favor. Alex and Elmwood stepped forward to claim the forest trail now open to them, loosening their protective formation around the nervous but relieved rats.

"I'm glad you've finally - "

Chetwynd cut Alex off with cold menace. "These rats are resisting the Accord, with your help. This is on your head." The Northlander let out a series of piercing whistles, obviously a signal of some kind, accompanied by a flash of rapid paw gestures clearly visible to his comrades in the trees above.

Five heartbeats later, all four rats lay dead, transfixed by Gawtrybe arrows. No shaft had so much as grazed fur or fabric of any of the Redwallers.

Alex and his patrol quickly recovered from their cowering scurries, once it became apparent only the rats had been targeted. The Forest Patrol chief's stunned disbelief turned to rage as he shifted his shocked gaze from the slain rodents to the smug Gawtrybe. "You ... you murdered them!"

"I carried out my orders, since you left me no choice. These rats were either going to the coast for resettlement, or they were not leaving this spot. But they were not going to Redwall. I hope you're happy."

Before anybeast could stop him, Alex hauled back and landed a blow to Chetwynd's jaw that sent the other squirrel sprawling to the ground. Instantly, more arrow came out of Gawtrybe quivers, and Alex stood targeted by a dozen deadly shafts nocked to taut bowstrings.

Chetwynd glared up from where he sat on his tail, wiping the blood from his lips with a paw. "In the Northlands, you would be put to death for so brazenly assaulting a Gawtrybe on active duty in Lord Urthblood's military campaigns."

"This isn't the Northlands. Try it, if you want a war with Redwall!"

Chetwynd stood, his cold soldier's mien settling over his face. "Go back to your Abbey, little bow-twanger, and grow fat and old as you play with all your timid little mouse friends. Leave the patrolling of Mossflower to beasts who know a thing or two about making the lands secure. I don't care if you are Lady Mina's husband; if you interfere with our campaign one more time, it will not go well for you."

Alex looked down at the four rat corpses, two of whose eyes were wide in mortal surprise. "We're going to bury them. Right here, where they were senselessly massacred in cold blood." His tone dared Chetwynd to naysay him, but the Northlander merely shrugged.

"If you wish to waste your time and energy on such insignificance, be our guest; these rats are no longer our concern. Gawtrybe! To the trees! Our work here is done!"

In a flash of twitching red tails, Chetwynd and his two comrades raced up the trunks and into the treetops, vanishing with the same suddenness they'd appeared - as they would any number of times that season in Mossflower, usually where rats were to be found.

Slowly, as if still in shock, the rest of Alexander's patrol descended from their branches to gather around the slain rats. Alex looked to his arboreal escorts with disappointment. "Why didn't any of you stop this? You were right up there with them!"

"But, sir! It happened so fast! And we didn't think they'd actually do anything like this! We were as stunned as anybeast when their shafts left their strings!"

Mollified, Alex slowly nodded. "Yes ... yes, I know. You're not to blame. None of us are. But I can't help but feel we owed these poor souls better than ... well, than this."

"Are we really gonna bury them, sir?" Elmwood asked. "It's almost evening, and we don't even have any shovels with us."

Alex looked his longtime lieutenant in the eye. "Then somebeast had better run back to the Abbey and get some, hadn't they?"

00000000000

"Really, Captain, after what went on in the woods today, I'm sure you can understand why I might say we're all left wondering whether you Gawtrybe are anybeasts who can be negotiated with at all."

Matowick, seated alongside Mina - with Alexander tellingly absent - nodded in forced acknowledgment. "What happened this afternoon was most unfortunate, Abbot, for any number of reasons. You really must believe me when I say that our purpose is not to commit any sort of wholesale slaughter or massacre ... although, strictly speaking, Sergeant Chetwynd was within his rights to act as he did, given his orders. I'll admit that he could have shown more discretion in choosing his course of action, but from what I've been told of this incident, your own squirrels honestly left him in an untenable and unenviable position."

With the news of the confrontation between Redwall and Gawtrybe squirrels which had left four rats dead, a somber mood had fallen over the Abbey, far removed from the festive atmosphere Geoff would have preferred for entertaining visitors. Now, as Alex and his Mossflower Patrol toiled by torchlight out in the forest to properly inter the slain rodents where they'd fallen, the rest of the Abbeybeasts gathered in Great Hall along with this day's new guests, sharing an evening repast that didn't taste nearly as fine as it would have under happier circumstances.

"Within his rights?" Geoff countered. "I'm sorry, Captain, but as I see it, nobeast is within its rights to slay another creature, save in the defense of its own life, the defense of others or to protect its home, no matter what orders it might be under. The killing of those four rats was just plain wrong, and no explanation or excuse can justify it."

"Then we shall have to agree to disagree on how we conduct our campaign outside your walls, Abbot - although I hope you will agree that further interference from Redwallers is only likely to lead to more such tragedies, and must be curtailed at once. I would enjoin you in the strongest possible manner to invoke your authority and exert whatever influence you can to discourage your squirrels from any such transgressions in the future."

Geoff stared at Matowick over the tops of his spectacles. "I would hardly call Alexander's actions of today a 'transgression,' Captain."

"By your definition, perhaps not. But I must be crystal clear about this, Abbot: Lord Urthblood has invested himself totally into this Accord with Tratton, and he cannot afford to see it fail - nor can the lands as a whole, I believe. Fulfilling the provisions of that treaty is his highest priority. Redwall must not interfere anymore, no matter your feelings on the situation."

"I'll have a word with Alex upon his return ... but I will make no guarantees, Captain. Especially since I am hardly about to condemn his attitude or actions myself. When you said you'd travelled to Redwall to negotiate with us over this on Lord Urthblood's behalf, I'd held out hope that you had it in mind to demonstrate more flexibility on this very matter, but I surmise now I was mistaken. Which leaves me wondering just what latitude or leeway you were prepared to extend us that Captain Custis didn't - which is to say, none whatsoever."

"With your permission, Abbot, I should like to wait a day or two to begin any formal negotiations in earnest. Lord Urthblood felt we might achieve something more meaningful if I instead spent some time dwelling here amongst you, gauging the temper of the situation and speaking with any number of you on an individual basis in order to better inform my own views. And that would include speaking with some of the rats outside as well."

Everybeast showed surprise at this request, even Lady Mina. "The rats?" Geoff repeated. "That is most unexpected. But unless you are authorized to grant them full amnesty and immunity from the Purge - "

"The Accord," Matowick brusquely corrected.

"Ah, yes. From the Accord - allowing them freedom to leave this Abbey and go where they will without fear of being detained or forcibly removed from Mossflower, I doubt they'd have very much interest in talking to you - especially in light of today's incident."

"Be that as it may, Abbot, I should still like to speak with them, if they are willing. One never knows what solutions or compromises might present themselves, or insights gained, from a simple exchange of words and ideas."

"I've an idea you'll not like their ideas," Geoff assessed. "Nor they yours. But, if they are amenable, I'll not prohibit it. Although I do think you should have some Redwallers with you when you approach them, to serve as mediators should things prove too tense between you and them."

"An excellent idea, Abbot. But again, this is nothing that can't wait until morning. Until then, this superb fare and a good night's sleep in a comfortable Abbey bed will see me through to tomorrow just fine, and let all else keep 'til then."

"The food and drink is yours for the asking. The beds, however, might be a bit of a problem, since we're a little short of those at the moment."

Matowick cocked his ears in surprise. "But, all of those former slaves who just left for the quarry ... "

"Most of them had been staying down in Cavern Hole, since our dormitories were nearly all full. Their departure might have freed up a few beds ... " Geoff glanced around at the clans of Deakyne and Neblett, and the three badger visitors, and Grayfoot's family, and Matowick's fellow Gawtrybe. "But not nearly enough for all of you who came today. Some of you, I regret, will have to bed down outside on the lawns, or down in Cavern Hole. I'm sorry."

"An Abbey lawn is a better bed than many an actual bed, I imagine," said Sodexo. "My family and I can sleep outdoors, and spare you the inconvenience of trying to find lodgings for us."

"Thank you, Lord. That is greatly appreciated."

"Badgers might have little to fear from sharing your grounds with rats," said Deakyne, "but we mice and voles would harbor far greater reservations about such a thing. We've nothing against these creatures per se, but we would sleep more soundly with a wall or two between us and them. We'll take Cavern Hole."

"Aye," Neblett agreed, "an' it'll let us all sleep together without bein' split up, not t' mention saving you the hassle of trying to find beds for all of us."

Geoff nodded. "As you wish, and my gratitude for being so accommodating."

Matowick's mouth turned downward. "We're Gawtrybe - we'll go wherever you put us. If no beds are to be had, then there are no beds, and that's that."

Pryle and Jiriel, who sat flanking their reluctant hero Cyril, mildly chafed at the Cavern Hole suggestion from their elders. "Aw, we wanted to sleep with Cyril!" Pryle protested.

"Um, that wouldn't ... uh, work," the Redwall mouse quickly advised them. "My chamber's pretty tiny, and I share it with Smallert. There simply isn't room for anybeast else."

Pryle slouched down in disappointed defeat, but Jiriel simply smiled and patted Cyril's paw on the tabletop alongside hers. "That's all right - I'm sure we'll be finding lots of other ways to spend time with Cyril while we're here."

Cyril almost pulled his paw away reflexively, but refrained, not wanting to appear rude or twitchy to the visitors who held him in such high esteem. He quickly found that he was enjoying the archermaid's attentions. "Heh, you'd better not let Vanessa see you doing that," he joked. "She's liable to get jealous!"

"Vanessa?" Jiriel looked at him, puzzled. "But, she's your Abbess. Or former Abbess ... "

"Yeah, but ever since she took that stone to the head, she's thought she's a schoolmouse ... and she's fastened her romantic attentions on me, of all mice!"

At first Jiriel looked mortified by this revelation, but then a grin split her features and she began giggling uncontrollably. "Your ... Abbess? Has eyes ... for you? Heeheeheehee!"

"It's not funny!" Cyril scolded, then relented somewhat in the face of Jiriel's appealing merriment. "I mean, it is," he amended sheepishly, "as long as you're not me. But you're going to have to be careful. She's been acting especially erratic lately, and there's no telling how she'd respond if she saw a pretty young mousemaid fawning over me."

Jiriel withdrew her paw in a theatrical huff. "I am not 'fawning' over you!"

"Oh, er, sorry, I only meant - "

"But," she interjected, her mock umbrage passing as quickly as it had come, "do you really think I'm pretty, Cyril?"

"Um, sure, you're ... pretty pretty, I guess."

"Well, in that case ... " She put her paw back atop Cyril's again, and this time he didn't even flinch. "So, where is this little terror of a former Abbess keeping herself anyway?"

"Well, that's another thing about her. Ever since these rats showed up at the Abbey, she's been making herself so scarce that nobeast knows where she is most of the time. Occasionally she'll pop up just long enough to make a nuisance of herself, then vanish again to who knows where. It's been especially vexing for Abbot Geoff, who really wants Vanessa and Lattie to meet, but so far she's frustrated his every attempt to bring that about."

"Lattie?"

"Yeah. Latura. She's a young ratmaid outside, probably about your own age, and every bit as scatterbrained as Vanessa is. The other rats think she's some kind of seer or prophet, and say she's the one who warned them all to get to Redwall ahead of the Purge."

Farther down the table, Matowick's tufted ears pricked up at the last part of Cyril's statement, coming to him as a random snatch of conversation pushing its way through all the chatter going on around Great Hall, and the Gawtrybe captain strained to hear what the Redwall mouse would say next.

"The Abbot thinks Nessa and Lattie share some kind of link," Cyril went on, "and that a lot of this mystery might be solved if he can get the two of them together. But it's like Nessa's going out of her way to keep that from happening."

"Maybe she's not any more keen about mingling with rats than my family is."

Cyril chuckled at this. "Vanessa? She's not afraid of anything the way she is now - not even our Badgermum Maura! Or timid, either. It's more like she's playing some kind of game, having fun seeing how flustered she can make Abbot Geoff. Besides, Latura's a perfectly harmless rat, about as non-threatening a beast as you can get. If she and Nessa ever did get together, I'd say Lattie would have more to fear from our former Abbess than the other way around!"

A few seats away, Matowick leaned in close to Mina and said, "So, Lady, tell me more about this so-called rat prophetess - this Latura."