CHAPTER SEVENTY
In spite of her reassurances to Captain Matowick - and to herself - Mina was worried.
While it was true that Vanessa struck her as the one Redwaller least likely to share the squirrels' secret - however she'd learned of it - the Gawtrybe Lady could not be certain beyond all doubt that this would not happen, or might not even already have happened. It would take only one Abbey leader to discover the truth, be it Alex or Clewiston or Winokur or the Abbot himself, and Matowick's entire mission would be cast into jeopardy. Such a revelation would result in the Captain's expulsion from Redwall, or Latura being placed under protective custody, or both - and doom any chance of fulfilling Lord Urthblood's vital orders.
After lunch, Matowick prevailed upon the Abbot and Winokur to help him speak with some of the rats. Mina excused herself from these activities; not only did she feel she'd not glean anything useful from such efforts herself, but she also suspected her presence might prove an impediment to Matowick's own success. The Captain could still present himself as a neutral party to an extent, here to listen to all sides at Lord Urthblood's behest and serve as the badger's envoy, but Harth and Truax knew where she stood on all this. Their reserves of good will toward her had all been spent, and then some.
It turned out that Matowick's standing with the rats might as well have been equally spent. Many refused to speak with him at all, following Latura's earlier example, and most of those who did deign to engage him used the opportunity to hurl invective his way and curse him as an untrustworthy foe, as just another of the Gawtrybe who wanted only to see them all removed from Redwall and from the lands in accordance with their badger master's cruel and unreasonable mandate. Which may well have been true, but it did little to help Matowick maintain his diplomatic facade. It quickly became apparent, even from her vantage atop the wall looking on at a safe remove, that the two sides were only antagonizing each other past the point of any rational, cool-headed discussion.
Which left them ... where? Matowick could only keep up his pretense of being a diplomatic envoy for so long; once it became obvious that the rats would not listen to anything he had to say, the Abbeybeasts would demand to know what solutions he was prepared to offer on Lord Urthblood's behalf - and if no such offers were forthcoming, his excuse for remaining at Redwall would be stretched past the breaking point. This, combined with the threat now posed by Vanessa, meant they would need to act soon, probably in the next day or two at most. Time was not on their side, and it was rapidly running out.
To make matters worse, Mina had been wracking her brain to come up with some believable diversion she could set up which would allow Matowick's party to not only abduct Latura without any witnesses to raise the alarm, but also to get far enough away from the Abbey before she was missed to make pursuit impractical. And so far she'd come up with ... nothing. There were simply too many beasts at Redwall these days. Too many defenders guarding the walls and gates, thanks to the Gawtrybe presence in Mossflower, and too many eyes on Latura at all times, due to the idolizing adoration of the other rats and the amused fascination with which the woodlanders viewed her - not to mention Winokur's assertion that Latura and Vanessa were somehow linked, and that Martin the Warrior had meant for Latura to come to Redwall ... all of which may well have been true, as far as Mina was concerned. Lord Urthblood would not be so interested in her if she were some mere fraud or faker. But it made Latura the hardest of hard targets, a living treasure protected day and night by guards who would not see her harmed or taken away.
Without having more Redwallers on her side, Mina felt her paws were tied. She'd considered trying to recruit some of the impressionable Abbey youngbeasts to her cause, but after her tricking of Harpreet, Skytop and Brybag into summoning the Gawtrybe from Foxguard, word of her duplicity had spread, and now even the youngest Redwallers regarded her with suspicion. She would get no help from any Abbeybeast. Which left her ... alone.
She saw Latura coming toward her along the walltop in the peach-colored dress that made her look like an ugly flower, this time in the company of her father and brother and some of Harth's fighters. They drew to within a few dozen paces; then, upon spotting Mina glaring their way, the prophetic ratmaid staggered to a standstill, forcing her companions to do likewise. For long moments squirrel and rat stood holding their ground, gazes locked. In Latura's expression Mina saw less of fear and intimidation than outright distaste, the regard of a better creature toward a lesser one. The ratmaid said something to her fellows that Mina couldn't quite make out, and then their entire group performed a unified about-face and marched away from the Gawtrybe Lady. Their sense of superior dismissal could not have been any plainer.
It galled Mina. It galled her to her core. The very idea of these rats, most of them admitted hordesbeasts, standing watch at the gates and helping to patrol the grounds and walltop along with the Long Patrol and Guosim and Alexander's squirrels and the Abbey otters as if they belonged here - as if they belonged here! - whilst casting aspersions her way to suggest she was the creature in the wrong ... well, it smacked of the whole world being turned on its head, and dumped on her. This was what Latura had brought down upon them all, and even without the privileged information Matowick had shared, the situation was intolerable - utterly intolerable.
Mina turned and stomped toward the nearest wallstairs, decisive resolve crystallizing in her mind. Her lunchtime consultation with the flustered Gawtrybe Captain echoed in her head; either Matowick would fail, which could spell disaster for all the lands, or he would succeed ... but if he succeeded in bearing Latura back to Salamandastron, the other Redwallers would have to realize Mina knew of the plot, at the very least, and most likely that she'd aided and abetted Matowick in his mission. Which meant that her own days as a Redwaller were very likely numbered.
According to Matowick, Lord Urthblood seemed not to want Latura slain out of turn, instead to be brought before him for his own inspection. Mina could not see it; if this ratmaid truly posed so terrible a danger to everything they'd worked for for so many seasons, and to the future of the Badger's Lord's effort at salvation, how could she be allowed to draw breath one moment longer than necessary? The challenges presented in Matowick's mission had been formidable enough even before Vanessa's revelation that the former Abbess knew what they were up to, but now it looked like an even-even proposition that he'd be able to pull the whole thing off at all - and that was being optimistic. Their objective teetered on the brink of failure, and Mina could see it all slipping over the edge into the chasm of calamity. If the Captain remained blind to this danger, she did not.
Reaching the bottom of the wallsteps, Mina glanced up to fix Latura's current position and bearing, then made straight for the first relatively secluded spot she could find which still offered a clear line of sight up to the walltop. In truth, Mina cared not whether she was seen; by the time she acted, it would be too late for anybeast to stop her.
She briefly considered climbing the belltower, retracing Matowick's earlier steps, but realized even its high vantage would be blocked by the main Abbey. In the end, for the sake of expediency, she settled for the southwest corner of the main building, far enough away from where most of the rats were encamped to provide her the necessary moments of solitude she required.
Working almost automatically, guided by long seasons of practice, she snapped her bowstring onto the ends of her bow, unlidded her quiver and drew an arrow from it, nocked shaft to string, pulled back and sighted along the arrow to where Latura stood upon the distant walltop.
Without even trying, Mina fell into that trancelike state of concentrated calm and focus she always called upon when making an important shot. Mind, body and surroundings became one, as her vision narrowed along that single straight shaft lined up with her target while her tail and ear tufts tasted the atmosphere, conveying to her any breeze liable to affect her arrow's flight. The grip felt right, the tension felt right, and Latura stood exposed on the ramparts before her, the bright taffeta dress a flag for attention. Others clustered near the ratmaid, and might well fall victim to an errant shot, but Mina had no intention of shooting errantly. She'd scored far more challenging hits in worse conditions, and doubted not for a heartbeat that she would make this one. Nobeast had noticed her yet, the rats up above oblivious to what was about to happen. This would all be over almost before it had started ...
"BOO!"
As that half-shouted word assaulted her ears and shattered her concentration, something happened that had never happened to Mina before, and had in fact only ever befallen a pawful of Gawtrybe throughout their remembered history. A sharp crack, a sharp pain, a blur of confused movement, and Mina found herself down on her tail, her unbreakable yew longbow split asunder before her. Glancing down, she beheld the shaft meant for Latura protruding from her side.
"You can't kill her like that."
Mina looked up from where she sat in her sudden shocked pain, barely comprehending the sight of Vanessa standing over her, the faux badger stripes transforming the mouse's diminutive rodent features into a mask of something otherworldly.
"She ... must die," Mina said weakly.
Vanessa took on a scolding tone. "You still don't know what you're dealing with, do you? You haven't even got a clue. Urthblood has at least some notion of what she really is, but even he doesn't fully grasp it. Not fully."
"What ... but how ... ?"
"Let me make this as plain for you as I can." Vanessa leaned down until she was almost nose-to-nose with the wide-eyed squirrel Lady. "Fate ... will ... kill ... you ... before it lets you kill her. She is not yours to take. Or, to put it another way ... " Vanessa straightened. "Won't be your paw takes her head!"
Mina, between the shock of her impossibly splintered bow and the pain of her pierced side and now this surreal recitation of some nonsense Vanessa had uttered just before her fainting spell at the historical Pageant earlier that season, felt the world tumbling about her and rearranging itself in absurd, illogical patterns. Things were happening that should not be happening, and she sat caught in the middle of it, the solid and familiar melting and shifting under her weight and before her perceptions into the strange and ludicrous. Powers were at play here, powers utterly beyond her ability to fathom.
"Vanessa! Vanessa, what have you done?"
"Ook! Gotta go! Sweet dreams, failed assassin!" The former Abbess spun and raced off, and before Mina could even see what Redwaller had come upon this scene, she fell back onto the grass, unconscious.
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Alex lay in his bed, staring up alternatively at the ceiling and at the window, which framed the blue afternoon sky. Even though he'd stayed up all night and well past sunrise, deep slumber continued to elude him, his racing thoughts holding sleep at bay. He remained totally at a loss as to what to do about Mina. Ever since the episode with the Sparra, followed by her voluntary evacuation to Foxguard to consult with Custis and Tolar there, Alex felt she was becoming less and less a Redwaller ... and less and less anybeast he could genuinely call his wife. This latest incident with the four slain rats in the woods, and Mina's continued stubborn defense of Urthblood's policy and the Gawtrybe's actions, only drove home to him how dire the situation had become. This campaign against the rats could not be justified as right or moral or honorable from any view, and the possibility that Martin and Urthblood might be at odds cast the entire matter in a far more sinister light. If Urthblood truly was an enemy of Redwall, and Mina continued to swear unswerving devotion and loyalty to him, what then did that make her?
If anything, the arrival of Matowick had only made things worse. Just as with Custis previously, she seemed to be seeking out his company to the exclusion of Abbeybeasts, including Alex himself - not that he'd exactly made himself available to her this past day or so - and did so in a way to suggest shared secrets between the two Gawtrybe and no others; there were even rumors of a midnight tryst up in this very chamber, while Alex had been out standing watch. And while he doubted anything improper had gone on in terms of their wedded vows, he was far more worried about impropriety regarding her allegiance to Redwall, which clearly stood at frayed ends these days, even without the possible permutations of additional Gawtrybe subterfuge being hatched between Mina and these latest visitors.
Where it would all end, Alex could only guess ... but it was enough to make him lose sleep.
A sudden, urgent, insistent knocking at his chamber door startled him, rousing him from his troubled ruminations. "Yes, come in," he called out.
Sister Apricot cracked the door open but remained in the hallway, her worried face peering in through the gap. "Alex, come quickly! Mina's been badly injured!"
His sat up, his bedcovers pooling around his legs. "Injured? What happened?"
"Nobeast really seems to know, but she took an arrow in her side. Who launched it, or how - "
Alex was out of the bed like a red shot, reaching for his tunic even before his footpaws hit the floor and pulling the garment on as he pushed past Sister Apricot into the hall. "She's in the Infirmary!" the Sister called after him, but he'd already guessed that as his destination as he sped down the corridor.
He arrived at the entry to the sick bay moments later, out of breath, only to find the five Gawtrybe under Matowick standing vigil outside the door. Their presence irked Alex, rightly or wrongly; Mina may have been their High Lady, but she was his wife, and on some level he could not help but see them as interlopers here. Fortunately, they showed the good grace and sensibility to part and clear a path for him as he wordlessly strode between them into the Infirmary.
The ratmum and her newborn sat seemingly pushed back into their own little corner to themselves near the door, all but ignored in the flurry of activity centered around another bed farther into the room. Alex hastened to that spot to discover Geoff, Winokur, Maura and several of the other Abbeybeasts standing by while Arlyn and Metellus bent over Mina's still form ... and Matowick knelt at the bedside, clasping the squirrel Lady's paw in his own. Alex felt his face flushing, anger displacing some of his grief and alarm. The Gawtrybe Captain, looking up and seeing the stormy expression clouding Alexander's features, needed no spoken bidding to release Mina's paw and step back so that her husband could move to her side.
Kneeling in the vacated spot, Alex could see that the arrow still protruded from Mina's abdomen, a small circle of blood staining the fabric around the entry wound.
"It's a good thing nobeast tried to pull that out before bringing her up here," Arlyn was saying. "Removal of an arrow can be a tricky affair, and can cause more damage if improperly withdrawn than the original wound."
Alex took up Mina's paw, so recently liberated by the would-be usurper's grasp; it felt unnervingly limp and unresponsive. "How is she?" he asked of the two healerbeasts.
"That's what we're still trying to determine," Arlyn replied. "She's been drifting in and out, and appears to be in a great deal of discomfort when she's awake, as you can well imagine. Right now we have to ascertain how penetrating this injury is, and whether any of her vitals were struck. If they were, I'm afraid this will be beyond anything Metellus or I can do for her. We may need to summon Mona from Foxguard."
Alex looked up in consternation. "Mona would never make it in time!"
"Perhaps she would. Remember, we can dispatch a Sparra to get word to her immediately, and Foxguard has a raft of their own they can use to ferry her quickly downstream to where the Moss flows closest to Redwall. You can be sure that when Custis hears of her plight, he will spare no Gawtrybe muscle to speed Mona on her way. She may be able to reach us faster than you appreciate. But we're getting a bit ahead of ourselves here. We may not need Mona at all."
"But we may."
Metellus gingerly probed around the entry point. "We can't leave it in much longer, no matter the risks. It was dangerous enough just bearing her up here in the manner we did. We'll have to open this wound up a bit more, to clear the way for the arrowhead to come out without causing further harm. And then we might be able to see the extent of the damage."
Arlyn's brow furrowed. "But, if it did pierce anything important, that could cause bleeding we'd not be able to staunch."
"I don't think so. If we use the same technique Machus used with Cyrus - clean cloth packing inside the wound - I think we could keep Mina stable for as long as it takes for Mona to arrive ... and that's only if it turns out we need to summon her at all. If there's no excessive bleeding, and no vitals struck, we won't need her at all."
"I appreciate your confidence, Metellus, but if we attempt a procedure that turns out to be beyond our combined abilities, complications could arise which we'd be hard-pressed to to handle. This is a very important patient we're talking about here, with a very serious injury. We must consider most carefully what steps we take ... "
As the two healers pondered their next move, Alex found his gaze focused on the arrow sticking out of Mina's side. Everybeast, even Arlyn and Metellus, were shocked to a stunned silence when he turned to Matowick and asked levelly, "Which one of you shot her?"
The Gawtrybe Captain seemed not to comprehend these words. "I ... beg pardon?"
Alex indicated the shaft. "I've been Mina's husband long enough to recognize a Gawtrybe arrow when I see one. This came from one of your quivers."
Matowick scowled. "No Gawtrybe would even dare contemplate what you suggest! Mina is our High Lady, and sacrosanct to us! We would lay down our lives for her!"
Alex rested a pawtip on the arrow, lightly brushing the nub just above the flight feathers. "How do you explain this, then?"
Matowick stared at the object in question. "I can't. But there must be an explanation. Maybe some of those rats out there somehow got ahold of some of Her Lady's arrows ... "
"Those rats aren't even armed. They would have had to steal a bow along with the shaft, and kept them both very well hidden until just the proper moment ... "
"Enough, both of you!" Maura stepped forward, a look of admonishment on her face. "I was there when it happened, you two weren't, and it looked to me for all the world like it was just an accident. Mina's bow broke."
"Impossible!" Matowick protested. "Gawtrybe bows don't break! And Lady Mina has the best and sturdiest we can craft!"
"Well, hers did. Vanessa was there with her, but ran away before I could question her. When I saw Mina's state, I realized it was more important to get help for her than to go chasing after Nessa. I shouldn't be surprised if our mischievous former Abbess had something to do with this, the way things are going with her these days."
Alex stared blankly at the badger. "Nessa? That makes no sense. She wouldn't even be able to ... You say the bow broke? Mina's bow? Was it strung?"
Matowick blanched at the implications of this last question. "It was a wreck," Maura replied. "In pieces, on the ground. How should I know whether it was strung or not?"
"Bows don't usually break, except under tension ... as in, when they're strung and pulled back for a shot ... " Alex gazed down at his wife, who lay oblivious to the discussion centering upon her.
"She wouldn't have," Matowick muttered. "She knew she daresn't ... "
Alex gently lay Mina's paw down on the bed beside her, then rose. "Do whatever you think is best for her. Do whatever you can. I need to go look into something." With that, he strode briskly from the Infirmary, leaving everybeast looking after him in puzzlement - except for Matowick, who stood gazing down at Mina with a consternation whose cause he dare not share with anybeast else.
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With Maura up in the Infirmary where she'd helped deliver the stricken Mina, Redwall's four toddler leverets were once again relegated to the care of their fellow hares - this time Lysander's own mother Melanie, who was happy to take time off her sentry duties to ride herd over the lively Long Patrol brood. Content to let them wander over the lawns and grounds as they would - as long as they steered well clear of the rat encampment - she found them leading her toward the main western gates, where a small unit of shrews and otters stood watch over both the entryway itself and the surrendered arms of rats and Gawtrybe alike.
The adventurous quartet disregarded the much larger pile of rat weapons and instead zeroed in on the squirrels' bows and quivers, going right over to them and seating themselves on the grass. When Melanie saw them reaching out for these implements of war, she quickly issued an admonishing reprimand.
"Hey there, paws to yourselves! Those aren't toys!"
Only Lysander, reacting instinctively to his mother's warning, withdrew his probing paws; the others cavalierly disregarded Melanie, taking up some of the quivers and exploring them with rapt intent. "I's awright, Grammy Mel," Chevelle explained with calm assurance uncanny for a beast his age. "Urthnessa sez we c'n do this."
"Urthnessa?" Melanie repeated in puzzlement even as she grabbed one quiver away from her grandson and swatted her granddaughter Faylona's questing paws away from another. "Who the blazes is that?"
"Our Badder Lord!" Chevelle, Faylona and Troyall all shouted at once, after which Lysander, not to be left out, added, "Bawwah Wawd!"
"Yes, I'm sure, but no responsible Badger Lord would give leave for such tender young harelings to mess about with things best left to us grown-ups, so let's go play jolly old Salamandastron somewhere else."
The four leverets resolutely refused to budge, even Lysander, showing a stubborn determination Melanie had never seen from them before. "Can't go!" Chevelle insisted. "Gotta stay!"
"An' pway wif th' awwows!" Troyall added.
"Sorry, but I outrank your 'Badder Lord' here on the spot," Melanie said, growing sterner with her charges, "an' I say it's time to - "
Uncharacteristically, Faylona cut off her grandmum, pointing across the lawns and exclaiming, "'ere comma Cappen Pwersee!"
"An' Lord Urthnessa too!" Chevelle declared.
Melanie turned her head to see what they were talking about, and her eyes went wide. "You have got to be yankin' my scut ... "
Little Percival came trundling across the lawns toward them, trying his best to carry himself with the authoritative dignity of a commanding officer, and coming up comically short. At his side, marching with measured strides, was Vanessa, who'd traded in her usual skirt or dress for a robe - not a habit robe or green or brown, but one of serious gray. Melanie spared no thought as to where Vanessa might have gotten it, just as the haremum gave little attention to the large honey pot Nessa bore in her paws before her, because Melanie's focus concentrated on the fake badger stripes decorating the former Abbess's features.
"At ease, at ease," Percy ordered the leverets as he drew up to them, completely ignoring the fact that they were already about as at ease as anybeast could get. Seeing none of them returning his salute or rising to mark the presence of a senior officer, he shrugged and plopped onto the ground to join them.
"Where's your mum an' dad?" Melanie asked the young ferret.
"Oh, de're aroun' ... They ain't part o' our rej'ment."
"Ah. The regiment of naughty toddlers, looks like to me." Melanie turned her gaze to Vanessa. "An' just wot are you supposed to be? An' where've you been keepin' yourself? Ev'rybeast's been looking for you, not least of all the jolly old Abbot."
"She's Urthnessa th' Bald!" Chevelle announced. "Our Badder Lord!"
Melanie let an unamused smirk twist her features. "I'd say she's neither bald nor a badger, and if she's the one encouraging you to toddle out here to play with dangerous weapons, then she's nobeast you ought to be listening to either. And, is that honey from Lord Sodexo's cart? You can't steal that! Go put it back, right this instant!"
"Can't." Vanessa shook her striped head. "It's for the picnic."
"Picnic. Wot picnic?"
"This picnic!" Vanessa grabbed off the lid of the honey pot and flung it aside, then sat down to join the ferret and hares. "It's a special honey and arrow picnic!"
"Over my ears it is!" Melanie reach down and took the stricken Abbess firmly by the arm. "We're putting this honey back where you pilfered it from, then we're going straightaway to the Abbot, so don't you even think about giving me one bloomin' thimbleful of guff!"
Vanessa stared up at Melanie with placid implacability. "Release me."
Melanie released her.
"Now, where were we?" Nessa set aside the honey pot and picked up one of the Gawtrybe quivers. The Northlanders' arrow cases featured hinged, latched lids to keep the shafts from clattering out all over the place and falling to the forest floor during jumps through the trees, which could often have the archers head-down or horizontal for prolonged, frenetic stretches. The Abbey squirrels of the Forest Patrol solved this problem with a bed of cork at the bottom of each of their own quivers, into which they could stick each arrowhead to secure the shafts, so clearly each arboreal culture had its own solution to this dilemma. The Gawtrybe arrangement might seem more cumbersome, but a quick inspection revealed a mechanism which would allow a seasoned and experienced archer to have the lid open and a shaft withdrawn in a matter of heartbeats.
Vanessa flipped the quiver open to expose the standard score of shafts within, and gave the arrow case to Chevelle. Being too small to easily manage it, the leveret laid it on its side on the grass beside him. Nessa took up another, unlidded it, and passed it to Faylona, then repeated the procedure yet again for Troyall and Percival. "Sorry, Lysander," she said to the youngest leveret, "but you're not big enough yet to handle arrows. You'll need to stand watch for us, okay? Can you do that for us?"
Lysander snapped off the smartest salute a beast his age was capable of performing, then began pacing off an earnest corridor around his seated companions. Some of the nearby shrews and otters shared an amused laugh over this scene, but none moved to intercede or put a stop to these shenanigans. After all, it was just Nessa, Percy and the four leverets ... and Melanie was right there with them. What harm could they possibly do?
Vanessa took quick stock of the armaments before her, ignoring the Gawtrybe blades. "Let's see - six quivers, and four of them have been given out. One for me, and that leaves ... " She grabbed up one of the remaining quivers and thrust it into Melanie's paws. "That means you get one too!"
The haremum eyed the object with distaste; as the property of Urthblood's loyal Gawtrybe enforcers, it was something she'd just as soon steer clear of - and she suspected the quiver's owner would strongly share such sentiments. She could only imagine what their reaction might be if they should see one of their adversary hares toying with their prized weaponry without their leave. It was a good thing they were all up at the Infirmary, waiting to see how Lady Mina fared.
"And wot am I supposed to do with this?" she asked sourly.
"Oh, I'm sure you'll think of something," Vanessa said with a wink, her venerable mock badger visage and impish demeanor creating a ridiculous clash. "Now, who wants some honey?"
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If the quivers of the visiting Gawtrybe were receiving undue attention their owners no doubt would have disapproved of, the same could not be said for Mina's armaments. Her shattered bow, tangled string and discarded quiver all lay where they'd fallen, overlooked in the haste by her rescuers to bear her up to the Infirmary.
Alex came upon them, and stood gazing down at them for long moments, hesitant to do what he knew he must. As Maura had told him, bow and string were a tangled mess, making it impossible to determine now whether Mina's bow had been strung. At least to an untrained eye. But Alex knew. Why would she have even had her string out in the first place if not to launch an arrow? How could the bow have broken, except under the tension of a taut, pulled string? But still, he had to be sure. This was his wife, after all, his beloved. He had to be sure.
Kneeling, Alex reached out for the quiver and drew it to him. Slowly, carefully, he counted the arrows within. Then he counted them again, and then a third time. It was the number he'd expected to find, yet being proved right in this case provided little satisfaction, and his recounts failed to produce any different result.
Nineteen. Not twenty.
Mina, like all Gawtrybe, always carried exactly twenty arrows in her quiver. An even score of shafts, always.
Which meant that the arrow sticking out of her up in the Infirmary was her own.
Mina had been about to shoot somebeast. There was no other explanation.
Alex let the quiver rattle to the ground from his trembling paws, then stood and turned slowly in a complete circle, surveying everything from where Mina had stood, or crouched. Where had she been aiming? Which creature did she have sighted along her shaft? From this spot, here at the southwest corner of the main Abbey building, most of the south and west grounds lay open to any archer, along with much of the walltop, and even the belfry of the belltower; a marksbeast of Mina's skill could have had a clear shot at any of those places. Unless he could find a witness who'd been looking Mina's way in the moments before the bow splintered, only Mina herself could answer this - and she probably wouldn't.
Even if she survived.
But there was one other beast who might at least have a clue of what this was all about; his words at Mina's bedside just now had betrayed that much.
Alex left behind him the scene of his wife's ignominy and strode off for the Infirmary once more.
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"I still can't believe it," Arlyn said as he regarded the bloody arrow lying in the porcelain pan on the bed alongside Mina's. "Martin must truly have been watching over her this day."
"That is true," Metellus agreed as he finished applying the bandages over the enlarged entry wound. "I fully expected it to be far worse, but the wound was neither deep nor penetrating. The arrowhead went right between the intestines without piercing them, finding its way exactly between the vitals where it would do no damage, and the barbs caused no ripping or tearing upon withdrawal. I honestly didn't know whether I ought to try any internal stitching on my own if we discovered visceral tears, or simply pack it off as well as I could and hope for the best while we sent for Mona." The young badger eyed the hastily-called-for laundered kerchiefs on the bed beside the pan with its extracted arrow. "Fortunately, it's a decision I didn't have to make."
"Still," Arlyn complimented, "your technique was masterful, the way you widened the entry point just enough, and worked your pawtips down to the arrow's tip to remove it so cleanly, all while probing and sensing for any internal injuries, even going so far as to sniff for any traces of perforated intestines. Those were methods I certainly never taught you."
"I've picked up more than a few useful things from Mona," Metellus conceded. "Remember, in the Northlands she often had to treat battlefield injuries, and she realizes full well that if any serious injury were to befall a Redwaller in her absence, we would have to fend for ourselves, or else treat it as best we could and keep the patient stable until she could get here. She's gone over some of the basics with me as far as addressing serious and traumatic wounds, so that I'd be able to cope in such a situation."
Arlyn raised an admiring eyebrow. "More than just the basics, I would say, based on what I witnessed just now. It seems Mona was with us after all, in spirit if nothing else. Your training with her has served us well today."
"It served Mina well, most of all," said Metellus, positioning the last bandage over the stitched area. "She should come out of this with nothing worse than a paw-length scar which her fur should mostly cover, in time. I just I hope I didn't miss something which will lead to complications. I always worry about that."
"All good healers do," Arlyn assured his apprentice. "After seeing you at work, I'm inclined to believe you missed nothing. But, if I'm wrong, Mona's only just across the Moss. We'll summon her if we need to, but until such time we'll monitor Mina closely to make sure her recovery proceeds as it should. Hopefully, Mona won't be needed at all."
"I'll never speak ill of that vixen again," Geoff proclaimed from the foot of the bed, where he waited with the others, "no matter how unsettling I find her practices to be. She has truly done her part to gift us with a formidable healer-in-training. Let us depart now, so that Mina can get her rest and her minders can watch over her without distractions."
Before this evacuation of the Infirmary could begin, however, a soft murmur and rustle from the doorway announced Alexander's return. The Forest Patrol chief strode forward between the beds to rejoin the knot of now-relieved onlookers, his gaze going immediately to his wife. Seeing her resting serenely with a peaceful rise and fall of her chest, and spying her fully-bandaged wound and the extracted arrow in its basin, much of the tension and worry left his face - but not all of it, and not for reasons the others might have guessed. Kneeling at her bedside, he took her paw in his once more. "Is she ... out of danger?"
"We think so," came Arlyn's gentle reply. "She came awake briefly while we were removing the arrow, and was in a great deal of pain, so we used the opportunity to give her a sedative, which took effect almost immediately. She should sleep through the rest of today, and perhaps straight through to morning. That's what she really needs most, now that we've determined the extent of her injuries not to be too severe."
"Alex, where were you?" Geoff implored with soft urgency. "We never imagined you would run off at such a time. What was so pressing that it took you from Mina's side in the midst of this crisis?"
The squirrel's face remained troubled. "I needed to investigate this, in my own way."
"Could it not have waited, or been left to somebeast else?"
"No. It could not have."
"Hmm," Geoff sniffed, somewhat taken aback. "Well, then. I was just about to clear the Infirmary so Mina can rest undisturbed. You can stay if you like, of course."
Instead of responding in any way to the Abbot's statement, Alex asked flatly, his eyes not leaving Mina, "Who was she going to shoot, Captain?"
Matowick, standing aside with the others, seemed as shocked as the rest by this unexpected inquiry. "Huh? What? What do you mean?"
"Don't pretend you don't know. It was obvious from your reaction earlier that Mina had attempted something of which you strongly disapproved - which means you knew exactly what it was. I checked her quiver outside just now, and there were only nineteen arrows in it - which leaves the one that shot her as the missing twentieth. She was pierced by her own shaft. Her bow was strung, and it wouldn't have broken if it hadn't been under tension. The string was pulled back; she was a heartbeat from letting it fly. So I ask again, what creature did she mean to shoot?"
"I ... I don't know anything about this!" Matowick protested.
"I think you do. Mina was positioned at the outer base of the main Abbey when this happened, with no view to the outside at all. Whichever beast she was aiming for, it had to be somebeast within our walls. I can't see her resorting to anything so drastic, so desperate, without a very compelling reason. Two days ago, I wouldn't have conceived her doing something like this which would most certainly lead to her banishment from Redwall, had she succeeded. So, I ask again ... " For the first time, Alex turned his head to fix Matowick with a penetrating stare. "Who was she going to shoot, Captain? What did you and Mina discuss in private last night? What are you really doing at Redwall?"
Matowick set his jaw, looking from Alexander to Arlyn and Geoff and Winokur and Maura. "Not here. I'll say what I have to say at a council of Abbey leaders."
Arlyn glanced around at his fellow Redwallers. "But with Monty and Foremole away at the quarry, that's nearly all of us here ... "
Matowick shook his head. "I'll not discuss Salamandastron business, or delve into diplomatic details, alongside the sickbed of our High Lady. The Abbot is right; Mina needs her rest. Let us do this somewhere else. Someplace more formal."
"An excellent idea, Captain." Alex rose, and took Matowick firmly by the arm. "If somebeast would please be so kind as to go wake the Colonel, we'll convene in Cavern Hole. Wink, you may wish to invite Harth and Truax to this as well, and maybe Latura too, since I suspect one of them was Mina's target, so this involves our rat guests as much as anybeast. And as for you, Captain, until you can convince me that your presence at Redwall isn't what drove Mina to such measures, you can consider yourself under arrest!"