"While the light lasts I shall remember, and in the darkness I shall not forget."
Agatha Christie, While The Light Lasts
While The Light Lasts MidnightSo. Soneir was dead. This changed things entirely. Nothing was quite as it seemed. Brother suspected brother of being a traitor. Sister wondered whether sister was spying for Pargit. Occasionally Catharine doubted even Edmund's loyalty. When convinced of his innocence in any treachery, she would reproach herself inwardly and outwardly be closer friends than ever with him.
Decetsle, the new fox king, was a strange one, unlike any ruler of Aquile in seasons gone by. Catharine and Edmund went to do homage to him at the coronation.
Although Catharine loved her country, she was a Richmond through and through – and therefore worked mainly for her clan and herself. Even if that meant fighting her overlord.
"There's only so many things you can do in a lifetime," she said to Edmund. "If my life does anything to keep Aquile free, I gladly give it."
Then, in her sleep, she would whisper:
"Giles…where are you now?"
The pain of losing her brother had dulled in later seasons; fighting Pargit had sometimes made her cry, feeling as if, somehow, she was betraying him. There was only one comforting straw to cling to…she didn't feel as if she was betraying the Richmonds. Which made the pain worse.
If Catharine was betraying Giles by fighting Pargit, then she must be betraying the Richmonds – for Giles was the embodiment of a Richmond.
But she didn't feel like she was betraying the Richmonds. Just Giles – and that belief was breaking down as she thought about it. It was only Giles she was betraying. Only Giles. Only.
Flashback
"Giles?"
"Go away, my darling sister though you are." Sarcastically.
"I need to talk to you."
"Catharine, I have raids to plan, things to steal."
"Like Vulpuz you have."
"Language! I'll tell Mother."
"You wouldn't. Whatever happened to family loyalty?"
"Oh, my dear sister, that doesn't count. Not within the family confines it doesn't."
"It always does. No matter where you are, no matter whom you're with."
"My darling sister." Giles planted a kiss on the top of Catharine's head. His words dripped with cynical humour – at Catharine's expense. Not that that was unusual.
"Giles – "
Giles told their mother about what Catharine had said. Catharine got a beating that night.
She never swore in front of Giles again. But she did do one thing.
"Tell tale tit,
Your tongue shall be slit,
And all the little dicky birds
Shall have a little bit."
She had never really liked or trusted Giles again.
*
"This could be It. The battle. All we have to do is send a spy – preferably two spies – into the Pargit camp."
"And?"
"And what?"
"What for?"
Alid looked nonplussed. "To spy, of course."
"What do we want to know?"
"Battle plans. Anything!"
Catharine sighed. "Listen, if we don't know what we're looking for, it's just an unnecessary risk."
Alid was upset. He was also extremely uncomfortable with Catharine's cool objections to his plan.
"I volunteer," said Edmund quietly. "I'll do it. But I want to know what I'm doing."
"If you go, then I do," Catharine informed him.
"Catharine – "
"No 'buts', Captain. I'm coming with you."
*
It was not known how Catharine and Edmund insinuated themselves into Cruelsword's company. Nor did anyone ever know how they found out such information in such time. The fact remained that they did, and that it was vital.
And now it was the last night of their mission. Cruelsword was happy. He had obviously been drinking a lot. Hearty slaps on the back and roaring laughter testified to this.
He began to become more thoughtful as the night went on. Almost sad now.
"I'm not an evil creature," he said, shaking his head. "Oh, no. Consider Tarrence and Prent." Then, with a sudden outburst of passion:
"I should've killed them all! I should have made the place into a graveyard the like of which Quadruple country has never seen! But I didn't…"
"And that…is why you're not an evil creature?"
*
They were surrounded. A guard had seen them escaping and raised the alarm.
Howling, raging mobs were closing in on them. Catharine hadn't realised the Pargit army was so big…they were going to die…
Edmund turned to her suddenly.
"I love you."
She couldn't answer, too paralysed with fear.
"Say something!"
A burst of wry humour somehow surfaced. Giving her friend a lop-sided smile she replied mournfully:
"You picked a great time to tell me…"
And then they were submerged in the force of a mad bloodlust from their furious enemy…
*
Catharine awoke in darkness. Someone was shaking her.
"Edmund?" she whispered, reaching up to touch the other's face.
"No, I'm not Edmund. My name's Louisa."
"Louisa?" Catharine came fully awake. "Are you from Aquile?"
"And proud of it! Those…vermin tortured me, but they haven't made me forget that. Yet," she added bitterly.
"My name's Catharine."
Louisa fell back in astonishment.
"Catharine? Catharine Richmond?"
"Yes."
"Kit! It's Louisa…from Porran and Marian…do you remember me?"
"I couldn't forget," said Catharine truthfully.
"Same here. Oh, Catharine!"
Catharine hugged her companion, feeling considerably happier than she had been at first.
"Where are we?" she asked.
"Borun Castle. The dungeons, naturally. The best accommodations!"
"Are either of us sentenced to death?"
"I am." Louisa was suddenly serious. "I attacked a guard when they brought me in. You'll need some kind of trial."
"A trial?"
"Hardly, I think. Nothing more than a mockery, really. You know they're going to find you guilty however innocent you are."
"I suppose." Catharine was silent. "Who is the judge?"
"Valen Cruelsword, of course. Who else?" Louisa sounded bitter. No wonder! Two seasons imprisonment in Borun was enough to sour the nicest creature.
But Catharine was thinking of her family again. Valen Cruelsword had destroyed them all, now he would have her executed and complete his cycle of death and destruction.
Or would he?
That faint nagging feeling that something, somewhere, was not quite right – or rather, not quite balanced. It was Giles again, of course. Something about him. It didn't add up. There was a strange aura of knowledge about it, as if Catharine already knew what it was, but refused to admit it.
Then the door opened, and a guard stepped in.
"You." He grabbed Catharine's arm. She struggled feebly, knowing that submission was inevitable. "You're going before the judges. Now."
And as the door clanged shut once more, Louisa's heart-rending wail accompanied a death knell.
*
"For the love of Sante, just let me go!" Edmund was pacing the polished marble slabs before the King and Queen of Aquile.
"We've been through this, Captain." Decetsle smiled slyly. "However much you wish to rescue your…friend, we have made a peace treaty with Pargit, and we cannot break it."
Edmund stopped dead in his tracks.
"And what are the terms of this treaty?" he inquired, not daring to believe his ears.
"In return for a large amount of gold, silver, and other valuables, Pargit will not attack us."
"Oh, yes. You give them money to raise an army to attack us while we have no treasure of our own. Very clever."
"They will not attack us," said Decetsle confidently.
"How do you know?" asked Edmund, raising his eyebrows defiantly. Then he left the room.
"The dolt! The fool! We're paying good money to have that maid executed," fumed Decetsle.
"He is very young," soothed the Queen.
"Youth doesn't excuse everything," said her husband, and he stormed out.
*
Catharine stood before the jury. This was merely a formality, she knew, but she was willing to answer all their questions truthfully, and let them judge her.
They started innocuously enough.
"What is your name?"
"Catharine Richmond."
"How old are you?"
"I have seen nineteen winters."
"Where were you born?"
"Jendarc, in Aquile."
"What were your parents' names?"
"Elein and Cardan Richmond."
"Elein was your mother?"
"Yes."
"Did you have any siblings?"
"Seven."
"What were their names, and were they older or younger than yourself?"
"I was the youngest of them. From the oldest to youngest, Agnese, Rodrigo, Frederick, Cadoc, Dorothea, Magdalen, Giles, me."
Then the interrogation began to become harsher.
"Were your parents the traitor family Richmond?"
"They weren't traitors! They were loyal to their country – Aquile. As their children were. As I am."
The Pargit creatures in the hall seemed to share a private joke. Smiles were hidden behind paws.
"Do you know what happened to your brother Giles?"
"No. We were separated several seasons ago."
"Did you incite the subjects of Aquile to rebellion against their leaders?"
"No, I did not."
"But several sources report inflammatory speeches being spoken by you."
"I informed the people of Aquile of what was going to happen to our country. They called me a Messenger and King Soneir summoned me to Dolene Castle and gave me command over the army."
"Why do you think he did that?"
"He seemed to think I had military skills and that I was a symbol to other creatures."
The jury glanced at each other, and then they looked at Cruelsword. He was smiling slightly.
"I think that the court should be adjourned. Perhaps the guards will take our little crusader to Sareis House. The verdict shall be given two days from now."
As the guards took hold of Catharine's tunic, a strange light came into her eyes and she cried out:
"A thousand curses upon your head, Valen Cruelsword! May the souls of those you have murdered so brutally haunt you forever!"
The sun shone brightly down on the young mousemaid. A slight breeze from the cracks blew gently at her tunic. She seemed unearthly, apart from other creatures. Even Cruelsword shrank back in his seat, afraid of what this heavenly avenger might do.
Then the light faded, and Catharine was simply just yet another angry, bitter prisoner.
*
Catharine was dragged from the cart, struggling fiercely, but with that same feeling of inevitability as she had had when she was taken from the cell.
"No – I will not – I will not." She was screaming now, desperately trying to escape the paws of the powerful guard.
Eventually she was forced inside. To her surprise, she was not hustled down to the cells with indecent haste. She had a strange sense of déja vú.
She entered a room that was sumptuously furnished. Catharine gasped. Not even the royal apartments at Dolene Castle had been this expensively done. It was amazing, fascinating to her.
In a large chair, a young mouse reclined. He got up as she approached, and bowed his head politely.
"Good afternoon, little sister," he said.
It was Giles.
*
The sun was going in as Louisa was led out to the gallows. The noose was placed around her neck and the executioner kicked the stool away.
As she lashed out with her legs, pictures danced before her eyes, strangely coloured. Catharine, sleepwalking. Herself asking Marian worried questions. Her own capture. Louisa's life flashed before her eyes. Her last thought was:
Was it really all worth the effort?
*
"You – you traitor!"
Giles seemed unconcerned by his sister's angry words. He smiled cynically at the maid – whom he thought of as little more than a baby – who was staring back at him, eyes wide and horrified.
"How could you?" Her voice was incredulous.
"That does not matter, my dear little one."
That did it. Catharine leapt forward and fastened her paws around her brother's throat, clutching, squeezing with insane energy.
"Oh, my dearest Catharine, I am afraid you have a lot to learn," drawled Giles, as the guards dragged her back.
"My friends will help me!" she screamed.
"I don't think so, young sister. Just two hours ago Pargit signed a peace treaty with Aquile – and the terms are most advantageous to Valen Cruelsword and his master. There will be very few to support you! Catharine. You are a war heroine. But you did not take your cue. You should have died back at the camp, dying heroically, so creatures would say: 'What a sad story!' Now they will say: 'She died ignobly, an embarrassment to the king'. The trouble with you, Catharine, is that you don't know when to give up. But the treaty has been signed – and it doubled as your death warrant.
"And that means," he continued scornfully, "that we will crush your pitiful friends. No, Catharine! Clamp down on that part of you that says proudly 'I am a Richmond!' The Richmond power died the day we were captured. You are nothing now, nothing – unless you join me and fight with Pargit."
Catharine was silent. She was remembering Giles as he had been as a babe. Always the lovable clown. The little handsome baby brother whom the others had looked for first. Before Catharine. Oh, how she had longed for their elder siblings to notice her!
Flashback
"Giles! Where are you? Oh, there you are, Gis. Come and play with Dorry."
Giles screwed his face up, wrinkling his nose in delight. He loved it when the older ones wanted him. Even if it was only his sisters talking baby talk and tickling him and making funny noises like 'jidgy, jidgy', Giles wallowed in the attention.
Catharine looked pleadingly up at Dorothea, who pretended not to see the big eyes filling with miserable tears.
Don't take away my playmate. Take me. For once, to make me so happy I could live on it for seasons. Choose me.
"Gissy, Gissy, come and give your big sister a kiss."
Giles did so.
"Hi, young'un. How are you today? Killed any dragons yet?" That was Rodrigo.
"Maggy!"
"How's my favet ickle bruvver then?"
"Hiya, mate. Climb up here and sit with us. That's the ticket."
"Giles, my little one. How have you fared today?"
Giles told their parents his latest achievement.
"That's my good son! Always ready to please Father!"
Giles this, Giles that…
"Chin up, Catharine. You'll get yours someday."
That had been Frederick. Cadoc had grinned at her once.
It was the only real affection she had ever been shown by her family.
When she looked back at Giles, seasons of jealousy rose up in a storm. Why should she join him? He had overshadowed her, made her seem small and insignificant – her own mother had all but neglected her duties to Catharine so that her darling youngest son would have more motherly care.
A feeling of revulsion swept over her. Giles had had all the family love – indeed, no one had paid any attention to her –
Flashback
"Hello, Jila, lovely to see you. Don't you just hate these family gatherings? Great-Aunt Doolie means well, but she can be so aggravating…of course, when any outsiders are round I praise her to the skies, and I'd never let another body harm her…"
"Elein, I'm delighted somebody feels the same way about Doolie as I do, she never will let things go, even outnumbered a hundred to one. Is this your youngest? What a charming lad!"
"Yes, isn't he? My youngest, I do believe, yes. Of course, with our clan, it's hard to tell whose child is whose…Giles; this is your Aunt Jila. Say hello."
Giles lisped out a greeting. He didn't even have a lisp, it was affected, so's to charm more people. Wasn't he satisfied with taking their whole immediate family away from his baby sister?
"What is it, Catharine? Oh no, Jila, this is my youngest. Catharine, greet your Aunt Jila."
"Good evening, Aunt Jila."
Aunt Jila laughed. "Such a solemn little thing, Elein! How did you and Cardan produce such a one? Giles is more your son than your little – what was her name? – Karen, you say – could ever be."
Giles had had admiration, a show of affection, warmth, lavish tenderness…and he had betrayed their family. That was the source of the revulsion. And what of Catharine? The love that had been missing all her life could be replaced now with a more sustaining, intoxicating love. The love of power.
But had that love gone so far astray?
Edmund loved her, she knew, but that love had not touched her. Or had it? Doubts of Edmund's loyalty had been able to murder her sleep, and she had often walked about the camp, those little voices in her head arguing, tormenting her. One had told her that he was guilty, that she should expel him from the army and leave him to go back to Pargit in disgrace. The other, the stronger voice, had told her that Edmund would never be a traitor to Aquile – or, more importantly, her. Was that love, telling her to trust her friend?
Catharine sighed. What did it matter? Edmund had not betrayed her. But his friend Catharine Richmond was going to die now anyway. What did it matter if he meant more to her than that? Whatever choice she made, Catharine Richmond was going to be destroyed forever.
Not forever. Those we love never truly leave us. You will live for Edmund, Louisa, Juna – all who cared about you – in memories. That is where you will survive.
Catharine made up her mind in the blink of an eye. She would die Catharine Richmond, not some little Aquilian turncoat! Giles had no right to the name of their house.
"When did you become a Pargiter?" she asked. Her voice was strangely calm.
Giles's eyes opened wide.
"About six seasons ago."
Three seasons after they were separated, then. It was her turn to look scornful. He had only been able to hold out that long? A true Richmond would have held out until they died, and in the life beyond, if necessary.
"Why?"
The sound was harsh. Giles drew back, suddenly afraid.
"They – they f-forced m-me – "
"Don't lie," said Catharine, and now her voice was cold steel.
"You don't understand! They threatened to kill me, Catharine!"
"Then you should have died! Died, as we would have done before we joined our clan's murderers!"
Catharine was howling now, eyes blazing, face contorted in fury, hatred – and sorrow.
"Don't you understand? These creatures killed your brothers, they killed your sisters, they killed your parents. You should have realised that if Valen didn't kill you, I would. We would. The House of Richmond would. Goodbye, Giles."
Giles screamed and shrank back. The ghosts of his dead family appeared to have risen up behind his youngest sister. Their gaze was bitter, accusing –
Ashamed. Ashamed of themselves for bringing such a one into the world.
*
Catharine was flung back in her prison. She took deep breaths, shuddering violently from her encounter, and threw herself down into the straw laid there for her bedding.
Why had he joined Pargit? Out of fear, he had said, but no other Richmond had ever been afraid. She should have been the one to join them – poor, neglected Catharine, not handsome, popular Giles.
The season Catharine spent in prison gave her plenty of time for reflection.
Giles, she thought, was so used to coddling, creatures always at his bidding, happily running along. She, on the other hand, had learnt to stand on her own footpaws when she was no more than a tiny babe.
So he hadn't been able to fight any torture, been able to stand a prisoner's conditions. She had. And she'd had something else. Brains. Brains that planned and organised an escape. She had been able to seize an opportunity.
Giles hadn't. There lay the difference between them.
She thought of other things, too, in that sojourn in prison. Edmund, for instance. She wondered what had happened to him. She hoped that he was fighting on alone, for her sake.
Love. That was all she had ever wanted. Perhaps her family had loved her after all. She had certainly loved them with a passionate affection she could give to no one else.
At some points her musings on love and her thoughts of Edmund became intertwined. She missed him more than she ever had Giles.
But then again, Edmund had loved her.
When she slept, more faces sprang up to greet her. Her family, mostly. They smiled, hugged her, loved her. Giles was not with them, and this cheered the maid more than anything.
They spoke to her. Most often it was Agnese or Rodrigo, and they always seemed to give sound advice in her dreams, but when she awoke, their words were empty and meaningless to Catharine's tortured heart.
"True love should always win," said Rodrigo bitterly, once. Perhaps he was thinking of the mousemaid who had betrayed them so long ago.
"The point is," Agnese added, "that sometimes we don't see true love even when it's staring us right in the face."
"What do you mean?" Catharine tried to ask. But their faces slid away into a mist, and she woke up.
She felt curiously light-headed and too warm. By the time the guards came to throw the daily meal at her, she had a raging fever. Pictures swam before her eyes. Edmund, calling to Juna, her parents – dead, Giles…a traitor…Edmund again, saying he loved her – with a ironic twist in that she never really got a chance to answer.
And she heard a voice saying something over the noise of battle.
"Nothing makes us more vulnerable than when we love someone. We can be hurt very easily. But I've always believed what you get when you love someone is far greater than what you risk."
Another voice:
"Don't give me all that tosh about Messengers and 'a high and lonely destiny'. When there's trouble, somebeast will rise to the occasion. There are many who are capable. A Messenger is just a creature who knows what they're doing. Creatures seem to think they're some type of god. If you elevate a person to a certain position, then usually they will fulfil their duties well. Good propaganda is everything."
It seemed as if the prisoner would never recover. And the government were thankful for it.
*
"She is extremely ill, sire. It is thought that she cannot possibly recover."
Cruelsword scratched his chin with a claw, nodding absently. He was weighing the balance of whether it would be better to let her die or not. Finally his eyes darkened with rage and he glared fiercely down at his underlings.
"If she dies," he hissed, "I will hold you…personally responsible. Send a message to the best healer in the country. He must come immediately to Sareis House. No one must know of her – indisposition."
If Catharine died of her illness, Valen Cruelsword could imagine the consequences. However many treaties were signed, however many peaces were declared, the Aquilians still worshipped her. Decetsle would be forced into war by them, and if he tried to stop it, he would almost certainly be deposed, and probably murdered by that young troublemaker – the archer captain, or somebeast like that. The Aquilian Queen had said something about him being in love with the mousemaid.
Cruelsword was not a fool. He knew perfectly well how powerful love could be, although he had never experienced it. He also knew how much hatred could achieve – and the two were not unalike, no matter what was said. And so Catharine recovered.
She was born for a more dramatic death…
*
Decetsle and his queen received the news on a sunny afternoon. Decetsle's face broke into a delighted smirk (he found it too painful to smile), and his queen gave a poor imitation of a happy expression. She had been very fond of the mousemaid.
*
Edmund heard the message in silence. When it was done, he bowed his head and said nothing. There was nothing to say. His sister, Juna, had said it all already.
*
The ferret monarch burst out laughing when he heard. He had never heard anything so exquisitely hilarious in all his life. Fancy calling that baby a witch! A mere child accused of witchcraft! The ferret wiped tears from his eyes and waved his servants away.
It was, he thought, clever of Valen Cruelsword. As a proved sorceress, (although the Pargiter knew there was no such thing) he could not be charged with wanting her out of the way for other reasons. If he was lucky, some creatures in the Quadruple kingdom might actually believe it.
*
Marian, the plump hogwife, heard the news from a messenger whom she had given shelter for the night. Shock preceded sorrow and anger. When she listened to the fiery speeches of those who knew and loved her little lodger, one of her 'children', like the rest of Aquile she was inflamed with fury at the sly Decetsle.
*
There was no expression on Giles's face as he was informed of the news. The blankness unnerved the messenger, who ran away as soon as he could.
*
Werrinder and Siret, the other two countries in the Quadruple kingdom, had discreetly kept out of the war. The two more peace-loving of the four territories, no one ever questioned their involvement. Aquile and Pargit hated each other, and always had, but Werrinder and Siret were indifferent. But even they, as nations, were indignant at the sentence of Catharine Richmond, leader of armies, warrior of the people. To them, she symbolised Aquile.
*
To Catharine herself it was a mere repeat of all she had lived through before in her nightmare. The cold voice of the judge, the mocking, triumphant applause from the jury and spectators. She could almost feel now the crackling, the burning, the searing pain…
Almost. It hadn't happened yet. But it would. As sure as the sun would go on rising, and the moon would keep on changing, she would die…
They had said she was a witch, which made her laugh hysterically. The punishment she had expected, she remembered her vivid dream only too well. She had but one request.
"Tell Edmund I loved him, I really did."
She knew Giles would carry it out, not for her sake, but out of fear of the Richmonds.
Now she was being led out to the stake. They bound her to it, and she stood there quietly, acquiescent for once.
They were lighting the faggots. Soon it would be all over. Deep, dark, blissful oblivion…
*
Edmund received the report of her death with a strange detachment. Again, no words were spoken. He bowed his head silently.
Alone, in his room, he rested his head on the cool stone wall. He tried to weep, but tears refused to come, and he could only feel a great numbness.
Let the redwoods die
Let the wells run dry
You know you can never make me love you more.
He wanted to scream, to cry, to rail against fate, to beg for a reason why Catharine had died. Of course, he knew all the political issues and whatnot, but to him and the rest of Aquile, what was that?
High up on the parapet
A Scottish piper stands alone
And high on the wind
The highland drums begin to roll
And something from the past just comes
And stares into my soul
His best memory of his friend was of her standing alone on the ramparts of Dolene Castle. The wind blew at her robes and cloak, as she faced into the gale.
She had been laughing.
Catharine had been seeing something quite, quite different from the view over the hills, magnificent though it was.
Perhaps, even then, she had known. And she had been laughing.
A timid knock sounded at the door.
"Who is it?" he called.
"A message."
"Come in."
The door opened. A young squirrel entered. He spoke.
"My name is Erik. I come from the Rebellion against Decetsle and his Pargit backers…"
Don't you love the sound
Of the last laugh, my friend?
Don't you love the sound
Of the last laugh at the end?
