*****
The rabbit hurried to the square, and his rapid arrival caught everyone's attention. The Guardmice stopped filling their quivers and stared at him. Sven stood in the center of the square, where a patch of moonlight shined down through a break in the clouds.
Aman appeared with a dozen senior Guardmice, all armed with spears. "We're ready," he said. "We follow your lead." Sven nodded and clasped arms with the Guardmouse.
"Not without this!" boomed Hamma's voice. All watched the hamster as he walked into the square; he carried a long spear balanced over his shoulder. Then he held up the shining weapon, and Sven's calm nearly faltered at its brilliance.
The spear had no wooden haft, but was instead forged from a single shaft of metal. Sven twirled and swung the weapon overhead, to the astonishment of all. "It is so light," Sven said. "I have heard legends of such craft, the metal, is it-"
"Yes," Hamma said. "The ore was passed down by me family from generation to generation, a secret of hamster-craft long lost."
Sven smiled and they clasped arms; then he addressed the crowd. "Tonight, we go out to rescue Hester, Toby, and Zach from the clutches of foul beasts." He raised the new spear into the sky. "The thom is cunning, but we will prevail!" The crowd cheered, and Essl, Captain of the Guard, approached the rescue party.
"Until they return, the remaining Guard are to stand ready," he said. "All mice able to do so are asked to keep vigil. We assume nothing of the cat's motives." Then he approached Aman. "You're a fine Guard, Aman. Good luck." They clasped arms, and then Essl proceeded to salute the others in the party.
Jared appeared out of the crowd and stopped in front of Sven. He straightened his back and addressed the rabbit in high-rodent. "Go well, Sven Pawsgaard, son of Sig, son of Edgar, son of Erick."
"Stay well, Jared of Guineawick," Sven said, and then he met Aman's eyes. "Guardmice, onward!" Together the party made for the North Gate at a run, passing quickly under the sentries patrolling the town wall.
Sven hoped they weren't too late.
15
Hester lost track of time; hanging by her tail had made stomach sick, and her voice had gone hoarse from screaming. She struggled to catch a glimpse of her brothers, but saw nothing but the rush of the dark forest. Finally, after an eternity of bounding and leaping, the beasts stopped, she tried to gain her bearings.
The weasel released her tail, and Hester hit the ground with a wet smack. Her body ached, and she could hear the weasel hiss above her. Hester shivered; the trail led to a massive tree surrounded by a dense black thicket. Then with two more wet smacks her brothers landed behind her.
"Zach? Toby?" Hester tried to stand, but she slipped in the slick mud, and fell onto a rock. Pain shot through her head and her vision blurred. Then she felt sharp claws dig into the back of her neck; the weasel dragged her toward the thicket, and she passed out.
Hester awoke in pain, and she struggled into a seated position. Buzzing filled her ears, and her neck and head throbbed with her heartbeat. She breathed heavily, and when the buzzing finally faded she began groping in the dark for her brothers.
"Toby? Zach? Are you two alright?" She fumbled about with her paws in front of her, when a new pain pricked her palm. Hester squinted through the tears and saw a tangled wall of thorns before her.
"Here Hester," Zach cried from somewhere behind her. Hester turned and crawled toward the sound of his breathing; as she got closer she heard Toby's soft whimper.
"I want Mom," Toby said, and Hester pulled the three of them together in the dark. Hester rubbed their fur with her paws while trying to control her own chattering teeth. The ground was hard but dry, and despite their lost cloaks they began to warm up.
"Everything is going to be alright," Hester said.
"Where are we?" Zach asked. "Where are the weasels?"
"We're in a bramble I think," Hester said. She glanced around the darkness again, but could see no sign of their foul attackers. "Wait, did you hear that?"
"Maybe they're gone," Zach said, ignoring his sister. "Maybe they've left us, we should-"
"Shhh!" Hester hissed and she clamped his mouth shut. Zach mumbled into her paw, but Hester's ears were perked; what was that noise? It was faint, like the far off babble of the river. "Is that the Hodge?"
The babble deepened into a low rumble like thunder, and Hester's fur stood on end. The rumbling filled the air, pulsing in and out. The mice shook, gripped with a primal fear they didn't understand. Hester held her brothers tight and strained to see in the black.
A glimmer of emerald green shined high above them and Hester gasped. She remembered Sven's words.
"What is it?" Zach asked. "Is it the weasels?" Hester's heart fluttered and her breath went shallow. The rumble wasn't thunder, or the babble of the river.
It was purring.
Hester hushed Toby and tried to soothe him, but her eyes betrayed her terror. Then the soft pats of padded footsteps joined them in the dark, and Hester's eyes darted upward as she searched for the emerald glimmers again.
She swallowed and tried to call out, but her voice hardly broke a whisper. "What do you want with us?"
The purring stopped, but no one answered. Hester whispered again; but again, no one answered. She heard nothing but the thump of her own heart.
Suddenly a deafening crackle sounded and the bramble shook violently all around. Toby cried out, and Hester hurried to shelter her brothers from the rain of dirt and twigs that fell upon them.
They shouted for it to stop. They cried for help, cried for their parents, but the shaking continued.
"Why are you doing this?" Hester shouted, and then coughed to clear her voice. She could hear a deep chuckle from beyond the bramble, and her fear tipped slowly into anger.
She knew when she was being teased.
"Stop it!" Hester shouted in the old tongue. To her surprise, the rustling of the bramble ceased. Hester took a deep breath, a vague idea forming in her mind.
She pushed Zach and Toby together, and ignoring their protests, crawled back to the bramble wall. She grabbed the twisted branches, careful to avoid the thorns. Her heart raced with fear and anger and excitement.
"Thom!" Hester shouted, and she rustled the bramble herself. She bit at her lip, and then called again. "Why don't you just eat us now and get it over with?"
Bright green eyes flashed through the vines, and Hester fell back onto her tail. She stared up at the afterimage of the beast's massive face.
"Get it over with?" the cat said in the old tongue. "Be careful what you wish for, little mouse."
16
Hester swallowed hard and gripped at the dirt with her paws. "I'm not scared!" she shouted, and was surprised at the strength of her voice. "You don't frighten me!"
"Is that so?" the cat asked. His eyes flashed through the bramble again, and Hester scrambled back to her brothers. "You will forgive me if I don't believe you."
"I think you're the one who's scared," Hester said over her shoulder. "You're the one hiding in the shadows." The cat was silent for a long while, his purrs reduced to a low whisper.
"I haven't heard one of your kind speak a civilized tongue in quite some time," he said. "I'm... surprised, little one."
"Don't call me that," Hester said. "Stop toying with us and show yourself!"
"Show myself?" the cat asked. "Didn't I warn you about wishes? But if you insist..." Then the cat hissed something that Hester couldn't understand, and then there was light.
Hester shielded her eyes in Zach's fur, and waited for her pupils to adjust. Then she stared up through the tick mat of thorny vines; her mouth gaped and words escaped her.
She had never seen so large a creature; the cat towered over the bramble. His paws could easily cover a mouse whole, and the hint of claws made her shiver. His legs were as thick around as Hamma's waist, and his body was covered in the purest white fur, all the way down to the tip of his lazily twitching tail.
But it was the beast's face that de
manded Hester's attention. His eyes shone emerald, shimmering like the moon on the Hodge. Two large fangs jutted from the corners of his mouth and past his chin. A twitch of his long whiskers and a fierce grin made Hester's heart race.
"Why so quiet?" the cat asked, and he sidled up to the bramble. "You were just becoming interesting, little one."
Hester broke her gaze away from the cat and finally looked around. Charred wood walls lay beyond the thick mat of bramble that trapped her and her brothers; the base of the tree must have been hollowed by fire.
Four large weasels stood posted around the tree hollow, each with a wooden torch. Sharpness defined the foul creatures: sharp eyes, sharp snouts, and very sharp teeth. They licked their lips and sneered at the trapped mice. Hester's eyes darted between their long tubular bodies; the closest weasel hissed and snapped at the bramble.
Hester stared at the ground. "I said, don't call me little one." Then she took a deep breath and met the cat's eyes. "My name is Hester." The cat smiled and purred.
"Peaceful greetings, Hester," the cat said with a chuckle.
"And your name?" Hester asked.
"You couldn't pronounce it," the cat said. "But-"
"Peaceful greetings, thom," Hester said, and the cat laughed at the interruption.
"I like you Hester," he said. "A little rough around the edges perhaps, but oh to talk with someone intelligent for a change."
Hester fought the urge to squeeze her tail. "You never answered my question," she said. Her voice trembled a little. "Why don't you just eat us?"
"Oh my, I seem to have placed you on too high a pedestal," the cat said with a smirk. "You speak, so I assumed intelligence. A shame." He lay down and began lazily tapping at the bramble with his paw.
"Scared to answer my question, thom?" Hester asked. "It's stupid to just wait; Sven and the Guard will surely track us here." The cat raised an eyebrow.
"There's hope for you yet Hester," he said. "A good hunter is a patient one, and I am a very good hunter. But you're wrong about the rabbit."
"What are you saying?" Hester asked.
"Of course your little warriors will track you here," the cat said. "That's entirely the point of bait." Hester swallowed hard, and checked on her brothers. They were still curled up on the ground and shaking violently.
"Then this is all a trap for Sven?"
"My dear Hester, how much you underestimate me." The cat sighed. "And Sven too, for that matter."
"I don't understand-"
"Hester, I don't need bait to lure out that pestering rabbit," the cat said. "He's been chasing me for quite some time. But no longer; I've seen to that." The cat's teeth shone then when he smiled, and Hester's eyes widened.
"What do you mean? What have you done to Sven?"
"I'd love to draw this all out, but I'm afraid I'm on a rather tight schedule this evening." Then the cat stretched and arched his back. "Your town is well defended, and the weasels will need rallying."
"Weasels?" She had nearly forgotten about the weasels in the hollow. But somehow she knew those weren't the weasels he was referring to. "How many?"
"Many." The cat hissed some commands at the weasels present. Their obvious excitement made Hester's stomach twist into a knot.
"And the one before, the one that attacked my mother?" Hester's heart beat faster. "He was one of yours too wasn't he?"
"I will miss Lieutenant Little-Snout," the cat said. "He was brighter than most of his kin, though that's not saying much. But, like you, they're simply the means to an end." Then the cat strutted toward the entrance of the hollow. "The end of Pawsgaard, in this case."
Tears flowed from Hester's eyes. "He'll kill you!" she shouted. "You won't win!"
"If only all your kin were so loyal."
"I don't understand," Hester said.
"Let's just say that Pawsgaard will be helpless to stop me." The weasels were closer to the bramble now, and had begun licking their lips. "Now, if you'll excuse me, your little warriors will be here shortly, and I have a mousetown to sack."
Zach and Toby squeezed her from behind. "Everything's going to be okay," she mumbled over and over.
"It was a pleasure speaking with you," the cat said. He nodded to the weasels as he left. "I hadn't expected a fellow snow-fur this far south, let alone a civilized little rodent such as you. Most exciting. Stay well, little one."
17
When the rescue party was finally out of sight of the town, Sven called them to a halt. The clouds had broken and the moon shined brightly overhead. The mice gathered about Sven with confused looks on their faces; Sven looked up to the moon, and giving his cloak to Aman, addressed the Guardmice.
"I won't lie to you," he said. "I foresee a long night ahead of us; a dangerous night." The Guardmice nodded in unison. Then Sven reached down to the ground and pulled up a wad of wet earth. The mice stared, first with confusion, and then understanding, as the white rabbit smeared the black mud on his body, dirtying his fur and tarnishing his armor.
They followed his lead, even the black-furs for whom the camouflage was unnecessary. When they finished, they grinned, flashing their white teeth at one another in the night. Sven nodded his approval. "Push on, two abreast." Then he took back his cloak and together they all sprinted off on the weasels' trail.
They ran for a long time, following the pattering of paw prints left in the mud. They passed tree after tree in the great forest, when suddenly, Sven called the group to a halt again. None showed fatigue, but the short-legged mice were thankful for the break nonetheless.
Sven scanned the nearby trees, which were large with trunks spaced closely together. He went to the nearest tree and pawed the bark. Something wasn't right, but what? He looked upward; the trees had large, thick branches that intertwined with their neighbors.
"What's wrong?" Aman asked. "We must be on the right trail."
"Something about this trail is wrong," Sven said. "It's too easy. It doesn't make sense; he wouldn't be so careless."
"Perhaps he's not involved at all."
"You don't know him."
The mice looked to one another. "What are your orders?" Aman asked.
Sven sniffed the air and pawed at the tree trunk again. "I need to know what's ahead-"
"I could find out," Aman said. A slight twitter rippled in his whiskers.
Sven looked the young Guardmouse in the eyes, and nodded his approval. "Stick to the shadows, and if you find anything, wait for us. We'll break here for the moment. Be careful, Aman, nothing fancy."
Aman nodded, and took off down the path.