Despair

Once a week the Mice gathered in the banqueting hall to hear news, share stories, and listen to a speaker. This gathering was critically important in Mouse culture because it remind the Mice of their strong family attachments to each other. When the gathering ended, all present would recite the Mouse creed of love.

Reepicheep took the love of his people for granted at this age. Soon that would all change. When Reepicheep learned about the outside world, his tribe would be his only refuge and place to take a breath.

Throughout the next two years Reepicheep began to be more aware of what was going on. This was mostly thanks to the Chief's daughter Geeniveek. She told him everything she heard from her father.

"I've always known that the Mice of Narnia were in danger," Reepicheep said to her one day; "but I simply never considered it thoroughly. It all seems unreal. It's hard to believe that Humans are really as evil as we think."

On another occasion, just after the gathering, Reepicheep and Geeniveek sat outside the entrance to the Burrow. They were surrounded by balmy grass and some tall hedges, until the sunny glade suddenly gave way to the dark Shuddering Woods again.

Geeniveek was slouched in the grass in an unladylike position, tearing up the warm grass with her pale paws. "Hey Reep," she said in a thoughtful voice, with an undertone of frustration. "The Speaker talked about being content with our families today. Are you?"

Reepicheep did not hide his surprise at being asked such a question. Then again, the Mice were encouraged to be as honest with each other as possible. "Yes, I believe I am quite satisfied with my family," he stated. "Does your own opinion of your family…differ?"

"I've always wanted to be a warrior," answered Geeniveek, furiously preoccupied with ripping the undergrowth. "Your mother is a warrior, so why should I be singled out as anything different? The Mice of Narnia welcome female fighters often."

"The Chief only desires your safety," Reepicheep tried to console her. "Most warriors die at a young age."

"Then I shall have to explain that I don't fear death. I am not delicate." Geeniveek sat straight, brushing the broken grass blades off her fur. She looked Reepicheep in the eye and said with a smile, "You're good at giving advice."

Reepicheep's dark eyes sparkled with delight at the compliment. "Do you really think so?"

"I never say anything that I don't mean," said the Chief's daughter. "One would think you were aware of the fact by now. You could shape up to be a real leader. In fact, I know of someone who could use a little advice. Do you know where your mother and the warriors went?"

Of course Reepicheep knew. "They are escorting the Mouse refugees to our Burrow."

"Yes, and one of the refugees is a young Mouse about our age. What say we go after the warriors and meet the orphaned kit?"

Reepicheep was reluctant to leave without permission, but he also longed to escape the immediate territory of the Burrow. He could only imagine what exciting adventures waited for him in the woods. With one look behind him, Reepicheep got on all fours and bounded out of the glade. Geeniveek ran ahead of him, her pale-furred body beautiful in its motion. Shortly after entering the shuddering woods, the Mice heard a sound nearby. Reepicheep, curious, stopped and looked behind him. He was shocked at what he saw.

A Wolf.

It was a great, sandy-colored Talking Wolf, and it was bounding toward the Mice with its forcible teeth bared. "Run!" Reepicheep yelled at Geeniveek, and she instantly took off. Meanwhile Reepicheep brandished a sharp-pointed stick and ducked into the undergrowth. Just as the Wolf leapt directly above him, the Reepicheep thrust his makeshift weapon into his adversary's stomach. The Wolf yelped in pain was not seriously injured; the stick barely grazed his rough skin under his tough fur.

In less than a second the Wolf was up again with his hair raised and his mouth pulled back into a ferocious snarl. Reepicheep did not know how to fight such a large opponent. He thrust his stick forward to whack the Wolf's leg, only to have his weapon chomped in half by the Wolf's teeth. Before Reepicheep could think of something to do, the Wolf gave a sharp cry. A small stone had just hit him on the side of the head. Geeniveek, a good way to the left of the Wolf, was frantically hurling rocks which looked far too heavy for her to lift.

Roaring, the Wolf charged at the female Mouse. Geeniveek left her post and ran to Reepicheep. The male Mouse expected her to cower behind him, but instead she grabbed his paw and dragged him. "Run, Reep!"

Both Mice took off again, but the Wolf outran them. He seized the rodents by their tails, but did not bite into them.

"How dare you dishonor us in this manner!" yelled Reepicheep. After all, hanging upside down from a Wolf's mouth was a less than dignified position.

"And if you eat us, my father shall slay you!" Geeniveek warned, waving her fist.

The Wolf muttered something, but it was too muffled too make out. "Pardon me, sir," said Reepicheep politely; "your words are illegible. It's unwise to speak with your mouth full."

The Wolf spat both Mice onto the brushy forest floor. "I wasn't trying to eat you," he said with unconcealed frustration and annoyance. "If you two had stopped attacking, you would have known that! I am Sarclaw, friend to Dobereep the Mouse. She is escorting some orphans, and I volunteered to look around for stragglers."

Reepicheep relaxed considerably. "Lady Dobereep is my mother," the young Mouse explained. "Geeniveek and I were on our way to meet her."

"I wouldn't do that," said Sarclaw hastily. "Dobereep's mission is in serious jeopardy. Humans have passed through this area several times lately, and it's possible that they will run into the Mice."

Reepicheep felt his stomach lurch when he heard the Wolf's words. He imagined what might happen to his other if she was attacked by humans. He imagined how hopelessly distraught Father would be if anything happened. "I must find her!" the young Mouse cried. "Sarclaw, run to the Burrow and tell my father what's happening. I must go."

"Fine then," said the Wolf with a shrug of his shoulders. "It's your skin, not mine."

Reepicheep and Geeniveek took off. They ran through a forest of ferns where the well-spaced trees allowed bright sunrays to seep into the woods. Everything was bathed in golden light. Reepicheep did not notice any of the beauty around him; his heart was beating wildly and a frantic and foreboding feeling wrapped icy fingers around his soul. So anxious was he that he didn't notice all the noise and yells from up ahead.

Quite suddenly the Mice charged through a thicket and found the Mouse warriors. Retreating into the woods were the tall, menacing shapes of Humans. Several Human carcasses were scattered around in the ferns. All the warriors looked alarmed and dejected.

Then Reepicheep saw why. In the center of the circle that the warriors formed, there lay the body of a dead female Mouse. The Chief, Rhevercheek, was holding the casualty in his arms. Mother, Reepicheep mouthed the word. For a moment his heart seemed to stop beating, and he lost all sense of clarity. Everything was blurry with tears.

A noise came from behind. It was Sarclaw, with Greenathreep on his back. Reepicheep felt himself be tackled by his father's loving arms. The small Mouse's head was pressed gently up against his father's chest. Reepicheep was whimpering softly as he buried his face in daddy's fur. "Is Mother coming back?" he asked. "Daddy, is she coming back?"

Greenathreep hugged Reepicheep closer, while tears spilled out of his clenched-shut eyes. "No, Reepicheep," he said in a quaking voice. "She's not coming back."

Reepicheep did not remember the rest of that day clearly. He vaguely recalled seeing two orphaned Mice, one named Peepiceek. Everyone looked at him sympathetically. As soon as Reepicheep was safely home, he collapsed into bed. He didn't cry. He just lay there, shocked and confused.

The next day, the Burrow was unusually quiet. Reepicheep turned over in bed and at once a thousand lovely memories of his mother came to mind. That's all she is now, he thought; a memory! He felt as if his world had pulled out from under him and his heart torn from inside of him. Reepicheep's body shook and he sobbed loudly. He lay in lonely misery for several hours. Father came in after that, and both Mice, wordless in their grief, embraced each other and cried.

The Chief came in during the evening to offer the grieving Mice some food. They refused.

Sometime later, Greenathreep said, "Son, the funeral is tomorrow."

And so it was. Reepicheep ate breakfast the following morning, but it was tasteless. Midmorning, he and Greenathreep donned long black cloaks. At the funeral, Dobereep's body was buried in the Glade next to many other famous warriors. Reepicheep did everything that the heartrending ceremony had him do, but his every move lacked life.

"We'll get through this," said Greenathreep that night. "I don't know how, but we will recover."

Reepicheep did not listen. It would be a while before either of the Mice could really think about recovery. Reepicheep thought about how cruel the Humans were; he though about how to avenge his family. But most of all, Reepicheep thought about his mother. He relived every memory of her sweet presence.