Part Four: Seizure
Chapter Forty-five: The Dead
The sun dawned on a Redwall already awake and busily working. Swike had risen an hour before sunrise with the rest, eager to show the Redwallers that she had changed and wished only to see Redwall made back into the majesty it had been before the war. She found herself in the gardens in the morning, pulling up a never-ending supply of weeds. The chore had been abandoned for far too long and many of the crops which the Redwallers raised had been smothered by the weeds. Without special and continuous care, they would fail.
Swike brought up her concerns over lunch, and she found many beasts in agreement with her. Maren became so passionate about the fate of the fruits, vegetables, and flowers that she convinced the Abbess to allow her to change jobs. And so it was that the afternoon saw Maren kneeling among the plants, pulling up weeds, pruning, and generally caring for all the green things growing around Redwall.
The chance to get outside and to remain close to Swike, the rat was sure, had been part of Maren's passion for a job change. But Swike couldn't complain. As she trudged back and forth from the pond with buckets of water to water the plants, she got many a wave and a hello from the mousemaid.
She spent nearly the whole of the afternoon on these water runs, occasionally bringing water to workers throughout the abbey, when she wasn't feeding the thirsty plant life. Though tired, muddy, and wet, she found the work fulfilling. More than a few goodbeasts met her with a smile and a thank you as they took a short water break at her side.
For the first time, she noticed that she drifted to places out-of-sight of Char and Gyis. Always, though, she noticed either Spyn or Lifil nearby, keeping an eye on her. I guess this means my number of guards actually did go up. Which is better than being back in that cell, I must admit. Swike hadn't thought much about Char's reprimand from the day previous, but she felt foolish whenever she did. I really can't blame him. He must feel proud and honored to be one of my guards, and then for me to laugh at the whole idea like that…how would I have reacted?
The day ended quickly and without any notable changes, save Swike receiving many more "good night" wishes than she had ever had in her entire stay in Redwall. The next day might have held more of the same, for all Swike could guess, but she found an interesting surprise when she awoke the next morning.
Jennet leaned over her, shaking her shoulder slightly. "Today," she whispered, when she noticed that Swike was awake, "we administer to the dead. We're going to burn the vermin this morning and bury the goodbeasts later tonight. But, since you're a vermin, you've been given permission to look at the vermin before we burn them. If you find one or two you wish to bury, you may later."
Swike felt as if somebeast were squeezing her heart. She was at a lost for words. What if, among the dead, she found Swifcut, or Riss? But she knew it would be even worse is she didn't look, if she never knew.
Mouth too dry to say a word, Swike got up and followed Jennet. Char and a few other otters joined them as they walked outside. The sun just began to peek through the trees as they exited the southern wall gate. Swike saw that nearly as much work had been done around the walls of Redwall as had been done inside. All of the dead had been deposited on the far side of the ditch. As she came closer, Swike could smell the stench coming off of the bodies, though muted with the cold of morning.
"We've separated them by species," one of the otters said. Then, pointing from left to right he named them, "ferrets, weasels, rats, stoats, crows, and foxes."
A single glance told Swike that the crows and weasels had been the worst off, but the rats still left many dead. Without a second thought, she ran toward the rats, searching each face for one she hoped not to find.
All was silent as Swike shifted through the bodies, piled three or four deep in some places. The stench was lost upon Swike, but she noticed that a few of the otters had to walk away at times, and they all held a kerchief up to their noses and mouths frequently.
Some of the faces were no longer recognizable. Swike strayed the longest on these rats, but a close inspection of body build and outfit was enough to calm her fears. The otters took a break around midmorning to eat, but no amount of coaxing could pull Swike away. She went without food, and if she was hungry, she wasn't aware of it.
Finally, she looked upon the very last rat. It was nobeast whom she knew, yet she couldn't pull her eyes away. Jennet came up behind her.
"Do you know him?" she asked softly.
"No," said Swike. "I might have recognized a few of them, but I knew none of them." Still, Swike looked into the face of the last rat. He had a cut on his nose, but besides that, his face remained untouched. Even though Swike knew he was dead, he might have only been sleeping, at peace and at rest.
"Do you need to look at any of the other beasts?" asked Char, now on Swike's other side.
Swike finally pulled her eyes away from the dead. She thought about Char's question a moment. "No, I don't need to look at anybeast else. But can I see Koron?"
One of the other otters took her to a single body lied out the furthest from the abbey. Sure enough, it was Lord Koron, though only his torn clothes would have told Swike that now. His entire body had been ripped asunder. It looked almost as if every rat in the army had taken a stab at him, leaving nothing behind but broken bones, wads of fur, and slivers of muscle, everything bloody. Though she had been among the dead all morning, Swike had been unprepared for this sight. Leaning over, she tried to deposit her stomach on the ground, but since her stomach was empty, she ended up dry retching painfully until Char was able to drag her away. He lay her on the ground away from the gruesome sight.
Tears of rage rose in Swike's eyes and she beat at the ground. "Why?" she asked, though her dry mouth was barely able to form the word. "Why did he do this? It was senseless, the whole thing was senseless. It had to end this way. Either the army or Redwall would have to end up this way. Why did he do it?" And then she became quiet and ceased moving.
The otters weren't able to revive her enough to get her to move again, so Char and Jennet picked her up and carried her back to Redwall, as they had once carried her into the Redwallers' camp. Then they set fire to the dead vermin; Swike didn't watch.
Under Jennet and Maren's instruction, Swike was able to get herself together enough to wash the scent of death off of her and don fresh clothing once more. By the time she was presentable, it was time for lunch.
Many beasts felt obligated to offer their condolences and Swike lost track of the number of pats, hugs, and words of kindness she received over lunch. She met it all with a fake smile pasted on her blank face. But gradually, realization of a truth she had only hoped for sunk into her being. Alive. Swifcut. Riss. Even Raynat, probably Naysta. They're all alive.
Near the end of lunch, Swike felt somebeast sit down next to her in Maren's recently vacated seat. A paw, shaking slightly, rested on her own. Somehow, Swike knew it was Bryce without even needing to look.
"I heard you didn't know anybeast," said the mouse softly. "I'm happy for that. That means that your brother … and maybe … any friends, are still out there. Right?"
Swike nodded.
"Then…?"
Swike looked up when Bryce didn't continue. "Then?" she asked.
"Will you … be leaving us? Will you go to find them?"
"I can't leave," Swike said matter-of-factly. "Not now. I'm still a captive, even if I don't look like one. But if I could … I don't know. I don't know what life I really want any more. A life with vermin, or a life with goodbeasts."
Bryce squeezed her paw momentarily, but he didn't say anything before he got up to leave. Swike watched him go. He stopped once, as if he was going to turn around and say something else, but in the next instant, he sped up and was through the kitchen doors.
Though work continued throughout the afternoon, everybeast moved at a slower pace and nobeast seemed to care for those who chose to take more and longer breaks. Fewer than two score goodbeasts had perished in the war, but many of the Redwallers had been impacted by those deaths. Most of the dead had been otters, shrews, and birds, and Swike found herself at Maren's side, out of the way of those in grief over their loved ones.
Finally, work halted altogether. Swike and Maren sat on the grass, near the strawberry bushes, only waiting for the time when they would walk out to the graves.
"I heard they picked a spot along the road to the north," said the mouse, trying to fill up the time with conversation.
"That's the way the army came from," said Swike before she could stop herself. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to talk about that."
"It's alright," said Maren. "That's part of why they chose it. It's a reminder to us, to keep an eye to the north, and to all other directions, so that we're never caught off-guard. But, it's also a warning to vermin, marching in from the north, not to wage war against us."
After a moment of silence, Swike said, "I hope they heed your warning. It's really more for them than for you. More lives are lost in attacking than defending."
The two beasts remained silent after that, leaning on each other, each with their own thoughts. Mouse and rat, yet true friends.
When the sky just began to change colors, signaling the approach of twilight and night, Redwall emptied. A silent and solemn procession marched north, each beast holding a candlestick. Only a few minutes passed before they gathered around the graves. The Abbess lit her candle, and from hers, the flame spread out until every candle had been lit. The deceased goodbeasts were then laid, one at a time, into their graves. A close friend or family member stood up by each grave and said a few words for the dead. It was made known how wonderful the beast had been and how valiantly they had fought or worked, up until the end. The tears flowed freely and even Swike found herself tearing up. She had known few of the dead, but the pain felt by those left behind became her pain as well.
Her candle had burnt down into a small lump by the time the last beast was laid to rest, covered with the earth, and sent on to the dark forest. When they all turned back toward Redwall, dibbuns in the arms of their elders fast asleep, it was pitch black. With only a few candles still lit, they found their way and it was a very silent night as they all went to their beds.
