*****
Aman's shift had finally ended, and he tried to avoid the muck in the square as he headed home. He had just crossed the street by the smithy when he thought he saw a glimmer of grey and black fur.
"Who's out here?" he asked, and he drew out his new spear. He walked slowly and bristled the rain from his whiskers. Then he heard feet to his left and turned; Hester collided into him and they fell to the ground.
"Aman!" Hester said. They disentangled, and she grabbed the front of his cloak, pulling his face close to hers. "It wasn't a weasel. Cats, Aman! It was a cat!"
"Hester? What're you talking about?" He stood and helped her to her feet. He shook the mud from his cloak, when he noticed that Hester was soaked. "What're you doing out here? Where's your cloak? You're a mess!"
"I've got to see my father!" she said. "Sven wasn't attacked by a weasel out at the Hodge. It was cat! A thom!"
"That's crazy talk," Aman said, "Why would-" Lightning flashed overhead, and they saw several large shadows drop down from atop the northern wall. The rumble of thunder followed, but then, something else.
"The boys," Hester said. "They ran outside before me."
"We better find them," Aman said. "And fast."
A loud crunch sounded nearby, and the two mice crouched low and squinted in the dark. Lightning flashed again, and they stifled gasps. A merchant's stall had been knocked in, its wood beams crushed to splinters. They strained their ears, and heard low growls over the pound of the rain.
Lightning flashed in rapid succession, and they looked up in horror. Two weasels stood tall above them; their sharp teeth and claws glistened in the rain. The beasts each carried a childmouse by the tail: one black, one grey, with their rain cloaks dangling beneath them.
Zach and Toby.
Hester stood paralyzed, her wet and dirty sarong pressed tight to her slick fur. Then she screamed, her voice echoing in the din. Aman brandished his spear toward the beasts, but before he could attack, a hiss sounded from behind them, and a swipe sent Aman across road, knocking him senseless. A third weasel resolved from the darkness.
Hester turned to run, but lost her footing in the slimy mud and she fell again. The third weasel dove its head toward her tail, and in one smooth motion caught her in his teeth and scooped her up. She tried to scream again, but her voice caught in her throat.
Aman shook his head to clear the water from his eyes, and two Guardmice appeared and helped him to his feet. He pointed just in time for them to see the beasts scale the town wall, disappearing into the black night with Hester and her two brothers.
13
Torches were lit as news of the attack spread throughout Guineawick. The rain had cut to a drizzle, and the Guardmice had assembled in the barracks to plan a rescue. Hamma had been roused; the fires of his forge blazed and the blast of his hammer rang out louder than ever.
Argile fought to calm the angry crowd growing in the square. "Now everyone, please settle down!" he shouted, but his voice was cracked and hoarse. Rizo stood in a circle of her friends and cried and pulled at her fur, Hester's cloak at her feet.
"What are we going to do?" a mouse asked. "First one weasel, now three!"
"Everything is under control!" Argile said, but no one believed him. The crowd voiced their fears in a cacophony of squeaks and cries. Jared emerged from the sea of tails and joined Argile on the edge of the flower box.
"Good townsmice-"
"Everything was fine until this rabbit showed up!" a merchant shouted. Cries of support echoed around him.
"Who knows what damage that weasel would have done without Sven's help!" Jared shouted.
"None of this would have happened in the first place," the merchant said. "That rabbit led the beasts here!" Cheers followed.
Aman appeared at the head of a small squad of Guardmice. They pushed their way into the center of the crowd and Aman pointed his spear in the merchant's face. "Sven didn't lead any weasels here," Aman said. "He was hunting a cat!" The crowd went silent and stared in fear and disbelief.
Aman turned the spear toward the mayor-regent. "Sven was never attacked by a weasel, and you knew it!"
"What madness is this?" the merchant asked. Argile tried to speak, but Aman cut him off.
"It was a cat that Sven fought by the river," the Guardmouse said. "He warned you! We should have been prepared!"
"What cat?" Argile asked. "It's weasels that took my children!" His voice faltered. "I only did what I thought was right." The townsmice cried and shouted; he was losing control, and fast.
"You knew about this all along?" the merchant asked. "Weasels and cats?" Tails began to bob; anger and panic spread.
"We'll hunt the beasts down!" Aman shouted. He punched his spear into the air, but the crowd ignored him. The Guardmice grabbed the hilts of their swords and looked nervously at one another, whiskers atwitter.
"Enough!" boomed a voice. Sven walked into the crowd; the now silent mice parted before him. "This is no time to fight among ourselves."
"Thank goodness you came," Aman said. He smiled and took a deep breath, but the crowd still eyed the rabbit warily.
"I smell the cat's paw behind all of this," Sven said. "Weasels would not risk such a foolhardy attack against this town."
"What do we do?" Aman asked.
"First, we do not make rash decisions," Sven said. He scratched his chin and stroked his ears. "I am certain my old enemy is behind this," he said finally. Then he puffed up his fur and stood tall. "He is no ordinary cat. He is a thom, the thom who led the massacre of my family and my clan. I have hunted this beast for many seasons; he is strong, swift, and very cunning. No doubt he has enlisted these weasels as part of some greater plan."
"To what end?" Argile asked.
"I do not yet understand the breadth of this latest treachery," Sven said. The townsmice teetered on panic once more, but then a new bustle in the crowd caught their attention. An aisle formed to admit Hamma into the center; his body was filthy with soot, but the armor he carried shined brilliantly with the play of torchlight. "This is unexpected," Sven said. "This is-"
"For Guineawick," Hamma whispered, and he offered up the helmet. The smashed crest had been replaced by the town seal: the brothers Hodge and Podge with arms clasped over a capital G. Sven smiled and nodded.
"For Guineawick," he said. Then he looked up and addressed the crowd. "The beast has a plan, but fear not, for so shall we."
14
Sven stood in the small room and watched the mice of Guineawick through the window as they rushed to set his plan into motion. The familiar strike of Hamma's hammer echoed into the night, forging the tools of war. Sven frowned; only two short weeks and already he had brought violence to their doorstep.
The fire blazed, casting its amber-orange light over his armor. Sven sighed and resumed strapping on the silvery plates. He donned the helmet last, pausing first to gaze into its new crest. Finally he swung his great green cloak about his shoulders, and stepped up to the windowsill.
Sven caught his reflection in the bowl of water set on his nightstand; it invoked memories of his arrival in Guineawick and awaking in Hester's care. He lifted the bowl aloft.
"For you, mouse-maiden," he said. He raised the bowl to his lips, but a shuffling of clothes interrupted his toast and he returned the bowl to the windowsill.
"Please," Rizo said and then hobbled in on her crutch. Sven noted her disheveled appearance, then Hester's wet cloak hanging from her paws. "Please, bring back my little ones to me."
Sven returned his gaze out the window and into the night. Then a small grey paw touched his arm, and Rizo was beside him.
"I know what my husband did, what we did, was wrong. If we had listened to you..." Rizo began sobbing. Sven turned to comfort her and saw Argile standing in the doorway.
The mayor-regent's clothes were muddy, his black fur matted from the rain. Gone was his proud bearing. He approached and hugged his wife from behind. Dr. Cotton arrived a moment later, pantin
g heavily as if he'd run clear across town.
"No, it's I who should be apologizing," Argile said. He eyed the doctor, then back to Sven. "It's my fault all this happened. Aman and Cotton and the others were right. I've botched this since the beginning."
Cotton raised his grey paw in protest, but Sven shot him a harsh stare.
"To lead a clan is to carry a heavy burden," Sven said. "No one is immune to pride."
"Please Sven, I beg of you, bring them back," Argile said. He dropped his head and lowered his ears.
"I swear I will find them and destroy the beasts responsible," Sven said. He lifted the parents' chins with a single paw. "I give my life to this end." Then he reached for the water bowl, but Cotton grabbed his forearm, and the bowl tumbled outside.
"How clumsy of me," Cotton said, and Sven put a paw on the doctor's shaking shoulder. "I'm so sorry... for everything really..."
Sven smiled and removed his paw; no more dallying. He bowed his head slightly, and then leaped through the window, his cloak fluttering behind him.