Chapter Seven: Reasons

As his head cleared with the abating of his fever, Moonshadow found himself wondering again just how much of the earlier events had been a dream. The idea of a Talking Beast being rude to a centaur was so foreign to him that he doubted he would have dreamed or imagined it, even as feverish as he was. But if the Fox had truly been angry enough to growl at him, it seemed equally unlikely that it would then have treated him without question and with no mention of the incident.

Never having cultivated the friendship of a Fox, he didn't realize that their anger was sharp but short, and that a growl might not indicate even that.

Musing over the question, he started as Rawlstow approached, once more searching the fox's face for any hint of animosity.

After tending Moonshadow's hoof, Rawlstow checked the condition of his wrist and then cocked his head, regarding the centaur thoughtfully. "Why did y'cut yer wrist?"

"To let out the infection," Moonshadow replied, slightly confused at the question.

"Th'Tree thought y'were tryin' t'kill yerself," Rawlstow said soberly, leaving aside for the moment the question of whether bleeding to let out infection was any use at all.

"I wasn't," Moonshadow insisted. "At least, I don't think I was…" His voice grew more uncertain as he recalled the incoherent whirl of his thoughts at the time. Just what had he been thinking?

"I was afraid of amputation," he admitted slowly. "I was trying to prevent that…but I did think it would be better to be dead than a useless cripple."

Rawlstow cocked his head, his inventive mind already devising a system of straps. "Even if I had had t'take the hoof, y'wouldn't have been a cripple," he assured him. "I would have had th'dwarves make a false hoof for ye."

Moonshadow stared at him barely comprehending; beyond a sailor's peg leg, prosthetics were unknown in Narnia. Could it be that this was still some weird dream?

For one wild moment, he wondered if he had in fact fallen ill in the Halls of Healing and this whole adventure was some kind of delirious dream. But he dismissed the idea almost instantly, thinking once again of the things that were too fantastic for him to have made up.

And that brought him again to the question of whether he had indeed confronted the fox in its den. He could think of no way to find out other than to ask, embarrassing as it might be. He needed to know, because if it had indeed happened, he owed the fox not an apology, of course — a centaur would never stoop to admit to a Beast that he had been wrong — but an assurance that it was to be allowed to keep the Book it had gotten its paws on.

"Mr…Fox," he said slowly, "I find that my memories of the past few days are a bit hazy. Did I…ever visit you at your den?"

"Aye, y'did," Rawlstow told him, his voice so free of rancour that Moonshadow wondered if the fox remembered the same conversation he did.

"And — you came to help me anyway."

The fox cocked his head as if puzzled. "O'course."

"I suppose you were trying to prove yourself so I wouldn't go to King Edmund about taking your Book."

Rawlstow barked in laughter. "I treated y'b'cause I am a healer an' y'needed m'aid."

"For that I thank you," Moonshadow said stiffly, finding he couldn't doubt the sincerity of the fox's tone, even though he still didn't understand its reasoning. "And I…have changed my mind about going to King Edmund; you may keep the Book."

"Thank y'," Rawlstow said with false gravity, his eyes sparkling with merriment that made Moonshadow recall that the Fox had never seemed to regard the threat of King Edmund's judgment very seriously.

"Do you think he would have judged in favour of a fox over a centaur?" he couldn't help asking.

"I think he would have judged fairly, without any prejudice for one of Aslan's creatures over another."

Moonshadow dropped his gaze, feeling curiously chastened.

"B'sides," the Fox added, chuckling, "I did save 'is sister's life a few years ago." Flicking an ear, he dashed off with a twitch of his tail before Moonshadow could recover from the shock of his pronouncement. A Fox…had saved the life of one of the four sovereigns of Narnia?

Next chapter coming next week!

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