Chapter 5
Day of Union, Part 2
The hall was alight with hundreds of candles, and the good cheer of many beasts. They had not served the main course yet, but the tables heaved with food already: aromatic breads and pasties and great tureens of soup. At the head of the crowd of beasts sat the Abbey elders, and Byron and Lily like King and Queen. He in a spotless cream tailcoat, corded across the breast, and she in the pink cloud that had taken several paws several weeks to make. Even Tawnhide lost himself for a moment, and gaped at the sparkling scene.
"It's a Redwall feast," Jacko told the rat proudly.
"And here I thought you beasts of Mossflower didna hold with riches," said Tawnhide. "How profane. What does that mouse have? Land? Armies?"
"Well, er, because it's a wedding you see. Best day in a beast's life. No holds barred. Do rats have weddings?"
"Important ones do, aye."
"And have you ever been married, rat?"
"Hell's Gates! I've told you—I'm no' who yew think I am, ya fool creature. I'm just a pore, ordinary sot what came 'ere lookin' for warmer climes."
"An ordinary beast wouldn't use a word like profane, and certainly not in the way you just did," Jacko said. "Believe me, I've taught a great number of very stupid precious little ones. Now, if you'll excuse me. I need a drink."
The otter disappeared into the crowd. Beasts at the tables were packed shoulder-to-shoulder, so Nadine and Tawnhide hovered in the back where those with no seat milled about. The others gave them as wide a berth as possible. Nadine glanced at the head table and saw that Byron was looking her way. She looked away sharply.
"I like not the look of 'im," Tawnhide said.
"What's that?" Nadine asked.
"The prince. The one as you were lookin' at. He's full o' himself."
"Kind of you to say that. Now don't look too long at him. Don't draw attention to yourself."
"I am aware, lass. I know when I ought to be scared of a beast. I'd say you should warn his wife what she's in for, but she'll not listen. Not today. Think of this: aren't you lucky, to not be at his side? And aren't I lucky, to not have met his bride by the stream yesterday? I would have been shot six ways."
Nadine patted his fettered wrists, masked under the nightgown. "Not that lucky, I'm afraid. Er, did you manage to see how these things work?"
"No. Only that your squirrel didn't use a key. She moved bits about in such a way that it locks and unlocks. Sort of puzzle, seemed like."
"I detest puzzles," said Nadine.
"You think she'd loosen 'em if you asked her? Take them off to let me relieve meself? Then you could see how she does it."
"I don't think she's that stupid, or that kind," said Nadine. "We may have to figure it out ourselves. Come, I saw someone out there I want a word with."
On the lawns, the crowd was thinner. Torches lit up the paths, and beasts tended to group around the light, drinks and food in paw. Nadine circled around a bit and zeroed in on the beast she sought: a wrinkly, squinting old mousewife. "That's Goody Crossbrooks," whispered Nadine. "Poor vision. She's got a son who's a blacksmith."
Goody Crossbrooks peered at Tawnhide as the pair approached. "Ooh, what a pretty dress you've got! Lovely wedding, wasn't it?"
"Lovely wedding," Nadine agreed. Tawnhide nodded emphatically.
"I bet one of you will be next," the old mouse said.
"Fingers crossed. How's Boris doing, Ma'am?"
"Oh fine, fine. He didn't want to come today. 'Ma,' he says, 'I don't see what good it'll do me, watchin' others get hitched'. And I says, 'well if you'd come to the abbey, you could maybe meet a nice mousemaid yourself'." She looked Tawnhide up and down. "Like this fine, tall creature here. You'd be perfect for my Boris."
Tawnhide looked at his feet, and did what he did best: stayed silent.
"Doesn't say much, does she?" Goody said to Nadine.
"Oh. she's just shy."
The pleasantries went on and Nadine gallantly offered to walk the old mouse home after dinner. It was dangerous, after all, to be out alone at night. They could have a chat with lonely Boris the blacksmith when they got there. Nadine was eager to catch up. Nadine's pretty friend was eager to meet him.
In the crowded and noisy hall, Harriet found Jacko filling his tankard. She worked through the enormous, snaking line of beasts waiting for a drink. Beasts protested raucously as she cut by them.
"Jacko, you were supposed to be watching him," said Harriet, seething.
"Now my dear, is that any way to talk to your teacher?" He led her away from the kegs. "Relax, Nadine's got him. In this crowd, someone'll be watching them. She's perfectly safe."
Harriet scanned the hall. "Where did they go?"
Jacko found himself in the enviable position of having valuable knowledge. That was a rare thing for a recorder, who dealt in so much of the trivial. He could have said, as he quite certainly had seen, that Nadine and the rat went outside. He could even approximate the general direction they went off in. He could tell Harriet of the incriminating things the mousemaid had been saying all evening. He knew quite a lot, really. But at this moment, he chose not to play favorites between his students.
"Don't know." He shrugged.
Tawnhide was tolerating the odious conversation with the old mouse, when he began to prickle with the sensation of an enemy close at hand. The rat turned and saw a shape at the doors to the hall, paler than all the other shapes. Wordlessly, he left Nadine and melted into the darkness, just out of reach of the torchlight. Nadine continued speaking to Goody Crossbrooks for a while before she noticed that he'd disappeared. She looked around in alarm.
Byron was coming down the path towards her. He wore the sword, she noticed. Probably he was wearing it ceremonially, but all the same. It was the sword. She thought of that sword embedded in Tawnhide's neck.
"Why, I believe that's the bridegroom," said Goody.
"Come to compliment me on the flower arrangements, I bet," said Nadine. "Excuse me a moment."
It was hard to believe that not long ago she had looked into his face and saw her future. Now the expression was inscrutable, the brow furrowed. He was displeased. "What do you want?" snapped Nadine. "Go back to your bride! You've got a lot of nerve approaching me like this!"
"Where is he?" asked Byron.
"Hm?" said Nadine, tipping her head to the side innocently. She was stalling for time. She knew perfectly well who Byron was talking about.
"That rat. The one Harriet brought in. Where is he?"
Nadine made a show of looking around. "Oh dear...I don't know. I was just chit chatting with someone over there, and I—I suppose I lost track of him." She covered her face with her paws and started sobbing very convincingly. She'd had lots of practice.
"I'll have a word with the abbess about you, you irresponsible little-" Byron growled in frustration. "He could be anywhere on the grounds now!"
"Nadine!" called Harriet. She jogged up to them. She was one of those creatures who could jog perfectly well in a floor-length gown. Jacko was not far behind. "What's happening?" she huffed. "Where is he?"
"She lost him," explained Byron. "Now we'll have to suspend the festivities. The premises must be searched."
"Really, Byron?" Jacko asked. "It's your wedding day, and you're proposing to work?"
"We can't let him escape," said Byron. "Look here, I dreamed of him last night. Martin warned me of him."
Jacko and Harriet looked at him in astonishment.
"Then this is a very serious matter," Harriet agreed.
Jacko took another swig of ale and contemplated whether he had made an unforgivable mistake. He looked about to find that Nadine had gone. No one else took notice.
As to the whereabouts of the rat, he was currently shadowing Goody Crossbrooks, who had wandered off to view the magnificent Redwall gardens, which at this time were producing flowers as well as vegetables. They were proudly lit up as well, and beasts were politely listening to Sister Marianne, the head gardener, talk of her methods. Tawnhide knew that the old mouse was the key to his freedom, and he was determined to follow her home somehow. Even if Nadine was not there to vouch for him when he encountered the blacksmith, he was prepared to take the risk.
Unfortunately, he was not exactly invisible himself. And he was so focused on Crossbrooks that he did not notice the danger until there was a beast directly behind him. A young long patroller, in fact.
He was dragged to a quiet corner of the grounds.
They surrounded him: a brawny hare, an otter, a mouse, and a hedgehog. The hedgehog was somewhere in middle age. The others seemed to be young beasts, but not children. They were varying levels of drunk. The mouse was armed with a club. The hedgehog with a tankard. Tawnhide was quite the opposite of armed.
"Lost your chaperones, wot?" said the hare.
He could not escape, and could not fight, so he curled up and took the beating. The bandaged wounds and forming scabs burst open again. The hare was kicking him, and the mouse went at his back with the club. There was blood in his eye, and all was a flurry. If anyone happened to wander by, they did not help him. He closed his eyes and thought of home. Yes, the fog over the fields in the morning. The moors which went on forever. The low mountains full of ghosts.
When Nadine came upon them, having frantically circled the grounds looking for him, she found him beaten to a pulp, shirt covered in bloody speckle.
"Stop it!" she said. "What are you doing? Is this any way to behave?"
The hare, who was taking a break to give his mates a turn, looked at her. "Best be on your way, m'gel. No sight for a maid."
Nadine ran to Tawnhide and swung at the other mouse. It was the first time she had ever punched someone. She caught him in the jaw, and he stepped back, rubbing his face. The hare came and restrained her.
"There's a gel," he said kindly.
Nadine realized, to her horror, that she could not raise any alarm. If she did, Harriet and Byron would find them, and the rat would lose any chance of escaping. Tawnhide knew this too. Even he was doing his best to make as little noise as he could. But how long would these beasts keep at it?
Would they kill him? Nadine wondered.
Would they turn his brains to jelly?
She didn't like the chances. She took a deep breath, and let out a scream as loud as her lungs could manage.