"Do you want to go on a boat?"

"...What?"

So flashed the moment through Cornflower Fieldmouse's mind, as she felt her innards tighten and spasm once again. She was sitting in a cabin below deck on a large ship, back against the inside of the hull, a bucket on her lap. Lamps and candles flickered as the ship lurched to and fro. Next to her on the bench, there sat Matthias, his arm around her tightly. He stared straight ahead while Cornflower alternated between leaning back on the wall to gasp for air, and leaning forward over the bucket to dry-retch. Some inclement weather had hit the vessel they were passengers on, and naturally, landbeasts such as them were not well-suited to traversing large waves on the high seas. It was all Matthias could really do to occasionally squeeze Cornflower's shoulder, in some ultimately pointless attempt at comfort. That, and maybe lift the free-hanging parts of her increasingly unkempt headscarf out of the way of… an impending torrent, so to speak.

"'Do I want to go on a boat,' you said," Cornflower forced herself to say, "And - and I said, 'what'."

"That's correct, my love," Matthias replied, having to raise his voice over the roar of a wave outside. Objects were sliding and rolling around the cabin haphazardly, adding to the din. "But remember, of course," he continued, turning his head to look at his wife with a weak smile, "You then said 'yes'."

Cornflower met his gaze bitterly. "I hope this trip is worth it, Matthias. If it turns out we have to - urp - have to turn around and go straight back to Mossflower because they're just like the rrrrrrrr- ugh - rest of them… I will not be happy."

"I won't be either, Cornflower," replied the warrior of Redwall, himself having to breathe deeply to quell building nausea. "But that Salamandastron hare seemed adamant of it."

TEN DAYS EARLIER

In Cavern Hole at Redwall Abbey, many a beast were seated. It was getting late in the evening, and most abbey dwellers were relaxing after dinner, but the brothers and sisters - along with Matthias, Constance, Abbot Mordalfus, Basil Stag Hare, and Orlando the Axe – were all giving their full attention to the young messenger hare who had turned up at the front gate just a short time before.

The hare had said that he brought significant news of a ship that had laid anchor off Salamandastron, and a proposal that came with it. However, he had requested a private audience with all important figures of the abbey, as the information he was to divulge was rather sensitive. And so, all listened as the messenger recounted the events that had led him to Redwall.

"The ship was sighted over the north-western horizon at sunrise, three days ago. It looked like no searat or corsair vessel we had ever seen – it was larger, more grandiose. We observed it keenly as it moved down the coast towards us, and saw that it laid anchor off-shore at about noon, right next to the base of the mountain. It wasn't until the landing boats were launched from the ship that we saw who the occupants were, wot."

"Woodlanders?" Mordalfus asked.

"No, Father Abbot," the hare replied. "Rats, weasels, stoats, ferrets, foxes – a cat or three."

Everybeast shifted in their seats, and a restless murmur wafted through the room.

"Now," the hare continued, holding up a paw, "I will quell any doubts about our condition right this second, by saying that all crew of the ship are being kept at Salamandastron under heavy guard."

Amongst the sighs of relief around him, Matthias spoke up for the first time. "Was the battle hard-fought?"

The hare blinked in response and struggled to speak at first. "I – n-no, no sir. There was no battle."

The silence that followed, with the abbeybeasts all staring at each other in confusion, prompted the hare to explain further. "Their weapons were few and rudimentary, which meant that we made short work of taking them captive. Once we realised the visitors were not putting up a fight, that is."

"Not putting up a fight?!" Orlando exclaimed. "Then what in the world were they playing at, shoring up right near a mountain full of hares?"

"An expedition!" responded the hare. "They were explorers – mappers, botanists, recordists, documenters, navigators, what have you. They are peaceful creatures as far as we can determine – bally rough around the edges, as expected, but not out-and-out dangerous."

A pause. Everybeast present froze at the hare's statement.

Orlando slumped back in his large chair. "Surely not." And the floodgates opened, with all the Redwallers asking questions or murmuring to each other at once.

"An expedition?" Matthias asked in surprise amongst the din. "An honest to Martin expedition?"

"Where are the blighters even from?" Basil wondered aloud.

"Silence!" the Abbot ordered, and the noise died down. "I believe our guest has more to say."

"Indeed I do, Father – thank you," replied the hare, who spread his arms and continued talking. "Yes, Matthias, sir. It is an honest expedition. They made no attempt to fight, they made no attempt to steal from or harm us, and we inspected their vessel to find nothing suspect – simply mapping implements and piles of parchment. As for where they are from," he continued, turning to Basil, "They say they hail from a great land over the ocean, to our west, far beyond the furthest reaches that any of us know of. A large nation they call Hesperfell. They spoke of towns, cities, huge ports, tracts of farm land; creatures numbering in the millions, all ruled over by a benevolent chancellor."

The Redwallers' mixture of fear and coy disbelief had turned into open-mouthed shock.

The hare noticed. "I know what you are all thinking, wot – I can scarcely believe it myself. But I still have yet to tell you of the proposal."

As the Abbot blinked and adjusted his spectacles, the hare revealed the most shocking information of all: "The expedition's captain, a rat - who else - the blighter proposed a diplomatic mission, don'tcha know? We send a few of ours over the bally ocean to parlay with their leaders and make the world a little smaller, they said. We learn about them, they learn about us, trade lines established, relations begun and improved! That was the proposal submitted thus, eh wot?"

After another pause, the abbeybeasts gradually comprehending the situation, Constance was the first to speak. "What exactly are you suggesting?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

The hare grew nervous and flustered at the badger's sharp gaze. "I - w-well," he stammered, "We at Salamandastron, after much internal debate among us, decided that the appropriate course of action would be to take the vermin up on their offer-"

All who were seated stood up abruptly, fire in their eyes. Orlando growled.

"-Cautiously, I emphasise," the hare insisted, a finger raised. "We can send their ship back escorted by a few of ours, capable warriors and soldiers aplenty in tow, wot wot? And, of course, a delegation to discuss matters of diplomacy and all that."

"And what of this delegation?" asked Mordalfus as everybeast sat back down. "Who would be sent?"

"I'm glad you asked, Father Abbot," replied the hare. "Well, as I mentioned just before, they say they have some form of centralised rule, if you will. An actual, proper, sovereign nation, don'tcha know. We in Mossflower, on the other paw, are in a somewhat disadvantageous position of - erm…"

Basil finished the statement, cocking his head to one side and flicking his ear: "...Not really having any of that sort of thing."

"Indeed, sir," the hare agreed, bowing to the retired officer. "So, we thought, considering that Salamandastron and Redwall are the two, erm… hubs of the region, if you will… we could send a few chaps or chapettes from here, in addition to our lot!"

The group glanced at each other as they considered the hare's words. Brows were raised. It was a mission fraught with dangers and unknowns. As they turned thoughts over in their heads, they saw great risk with such an activity, not only to the safety of themselves and Redwall, but also to all of Mossflower.

"So," began Matthias, "Send an envoy, you say."

The hare, standing up straight, gave a single nod. "Precisely."

"And what if we don't do that? What do Salamandastron or Redwall have to gain from such a thing?" Orlando asked.

"Well, to gain, I confess that none of us are really sure, wot," the hare replied. "But they know of our existence, and they know of our location."

Matthias stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Hmmm, yes. If we just make them leave without us, what's stopping them from coming back later with greater numbers? And if you hares kept them at Salamandastron indefinitely, their countrybeasts may send other ships after them."

Basil added, "It's pointless either way... no matter what we do, we will have to engage with them somehow. Seems our only option is to grab the stag by the bally antlers, strike while the iron is hot."

"But strike accurately – if we are to strike at all. This isn't a simple case of saying 'What could possibly go wrong?' and throwing caution to the wind," Constance pointed out. "We can't be rash, but we can't be half-hearted, either."

"Exactly!" Basil agreed. "Whether they are dangerous or not, a hypothetical visit must be calculated and assertive, wot! We would need to make a good impression – let them know that while we mean no harm, we can certainly hold our own."

"We at Salamandastron already demonstrated to the expedition that we can hold our own, sir," the visiting hare interjected, "But meaning no harm... I regret to posit that proving that may be more difficult. They aren't exactly happy with the way they were treated."

"Well then, we would send our best and brightest, but also our kindest and most honourable," Mordalfus responded. "We are not short in either type of quality here at Redwall."

Everybeast looked at the Abbot in surprise.

"You are on board with this, Father Abbot?" Matthias asked.

"Well, yes, I suppose I am," confirmed Mordalfus. "At any rate, good – or, at least, neutral creatures of their kinds, are a rare thing in this part of our world..." He stared into space and spoke softly. "A world that, I confess, I had not considered in such a wide scope before. The Northlands, the Eastern Scrublands, Mossflower, the deserts, and Southsward, certainly. We know of Green Isle in the south of the sea, and of Terramort in the north, from the tales of Joseph the bellmaker and his daughter Mariel. But... what lies over the ocean? What opportunities have been presented to us here?"

Mordalfus stood up. "It is as you three said," he continued, pointing to Matthias, Basil and Constance, "The fate of Mossflower was sealed and intertwined with these creatures the moment they landed here. We can now do nothing more than work with what we have before us. I have no qualms with taking a chance on them and their nation. Erm – unless, of course, there are any objections to this plan," he finished, clearing his throat.

All present looked around in silence, waiting for somebeast to speak up – but none did.

"I suppose the answer from all of us is right there," said Matthias, to murmurs of agreement from the abbeybeasts. With a nod, Mordalfus sat down and brought his attention back to the hare.

"There are risks, plenty of risks, but I'm sure we can find beasts willing to take them," the Abbot stated. "Were there any you had in mind?"

"I suppose the first and foremost in anyone's mind," the guest replied, pointing to Matthias, "Is you, Warrior of Redwall."

The mouse's eyes widened at the hare's words. "Wha- me? Why me? I have an abbey to protect."

"Hmmm. Makes sense to send you, though, old bean," Basil mused. "You have a position of great power, honour and respect in this neck of the woods. Your word would carry great weight in some unknown place like that."

"To add to that," Abbot Mordalfus interjected, "I'm sure the abbey will be able to protect itself adequately in your absence. It has happened before, Matthias, and it can happen again. This time, too, we have another warrior in training - your son, Mattimeo. There is no need for you to worry yourself."

"I should probably stay," said Constance. "We still need more than one here who can defend the abbey in any case."

Orlando backed up his fellow badger. "Agreed. I will stay too."

"Well then, in the paws of two badgers and your son, I think Redwall is perfectly fine, Matthias!" exclaimed Basil. "I suppose nobeast will miss me if I tag along with you to this foreign land?"

Matthias laughed. "I suppose you're all right. Redwall is safe without me. Yes, then – I'll take the responsibility." He turned to Basil with a warm smile. "It would be good to have you along, friend. You're an old fighter, but your experience in paw-to-paw combat would make you a fine bodyguard for the representative of Redwall."

"Ha! Steady on, m'boy!" Basil guffawed. "You're quite capable of defending yourself. But if there's an opening for the position of bodyguard on this mission, then I'll bally well take it. The Western Seas await, wot!"

"So, it is settled then," Mordalfus stated with finality. "Matthias and Basil Stag Hare will be our representatives. We will make plans in the morning, and reveal what has transpired to the rest of the abbey. Then, we will send our representatives on a journey to Salamandastron at the earliest convenience."

Many of the abbeybeasts seated at the table broke into celebration at the arrangement of the diplomatic mission. Cheers erupted, while some clapped, and a few began talking about a farewell feast. But, like many celebrations, it was a little premature - the noises trailed off as more and more noticed the messenger hare standing expectantly, with a finger raised on one paw. When the room was quiet once again, the hare grinned sheepishly for a moment before beginning.

"It would probably be a good idea, sirs and marms - with all due respect - to, erm, have at least one more in your group. We have a charismatic warrior…" - he gestured to Matthias - "We have a personal bodyguard…" - he gestured to Basil - "We have regiments of Long Patrol footsoldiers for added security. But we need a negotiator. Someone good with words, polite, can be accommodating and understanding, but… has their own spark. Can push a hard sell when the time comes, don'tcha know."

The brothers and sisters murmured to each other, and Constance and Orlando looked at each other and shrugged. Basil stroked his chin, and the Abbot massaged his temples.

"I know a beast who'd be perfect for that!" exclaimed Matthias, standing back up and raising a paw. The room fell silent.

Mordalfus turned to the warrior. "And who might that be?"

Matthias looked back at him with a smirk, his eyes twinkling. "I'm married to her, Father Abbot."

Later, in the gatehouse, Matthias and Cornflower were retiring for the night. Mattimeo was long asleep in his room down the hallway. In the half-light of the bedchamber, they pulled the covers back and slid into their large double bed. Sharing a tender kiss, they pulled away and looked deep into each other's eyes, watching as the flames of their candles shone and danced in the reflections of their irises.

"I'll never tire of this," Matthias sighed.

"Me neither," Cornflower murmured. "I don't think I will ever get bored of living out my days with you."

"After everything that's happened to us, I hope the Abbey sees three hundred seasons of peace, let alone three," Matthias said.

"Three seasons? It's been that long since you came back with Matti?"

Matthias chuckled in response. "And three seasons since you decided to play the most dangerous game of dress-up with a flock of ravens and magpies. For peaceful creatures, we seem to have led rather exciting lives."

"Indeed we have," Cornflower agreed, giggling. "We're not exactly old, but I'm thinking enough excitement has passed our way for a long time."

"Hmmm." Matthias broke eye contact with Cornflower, staring at the foot of the bed. "Maybe not quite yet."

Cornflower, smile fading to a worried expression, looked at the same spot Matthias seemed to be burning a hole into with his gaze. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, she turned back to her husband and placed a paw on his shoulder. "Matthias? What's the matter?"

Matthias, meeting her eyes once again, raised a paw and stroked the side of his wife's face. Her whiskers twitched in response.

"Cornflower?" Matthias asked quietly.

She placed her paw on Matthias'. "Yes, my warrior?"

Matthias took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Opening them again, he asked: "Do you want to go on a boat?"

Silence crept its way into the room. It was only for a few seconds, but to Matthias, it felt like minutes. Their expressions did not change. Cornflower's arm flopped back down by her side, and she drew away from her husband, tilting her head to one side.

Still looking him in the eyes, brow furrowed, she hesitantly opened her mouth to speak.

"...What?"

Thunder cracked overhead.

"Just a couple more weeks of this, and we'll be in port, safe and sound," Matthias reassured Cornflower as she convulsed yet again, with another rub of her shoulder. "A couple more weeks."

"I know, love, I know," she replied as gently as she could, looking at Matthias frantically. "But at this rate, I don't know whether I will last another couple of minutes!" Her stare then became unfocused, her mouth hanging open, and her breathing becoming more laboured. She slowly faced forward over the bucket, blinking wearily. "Oh, Matthia-hurk-"

With that, Cornflower promptly threw up. Matthias made the grave mistake of not looking away. He had seen this before when she was falling pregnant with Mattimeo, but on a rocking ship below deck with nothing to gain his bearings from, his own growing seasickness was not helped by the sight of what was in front of him.

"Oh. Oh, dear," murmured Matthias, trying to rip his gaze away from Cornflower's initial offering to the bucket. "Wh-what in the world did you have for lunch?"

"Ergh, oh my - wha… the same as everybeast else on this ship - ech - what does it matter?" Cornflower spat back between retches.

"I… I f-feel…" Matthias trailed off as his eyes glazed over. Feeling the ship rock sideways, he gulped. "I feel as though I may be about to lose mine. May I have the bucket, please?!" He then grabbed the rim of the container and pulled it his way.

Cornflower resisted her husband's pull. "No! I still need it!" she moaned.

The two mice briefly engaged in a tug-of-war for rights over the pail, each gripping the rim with both paws and heaving while muttering such sweet nothings as "Give it," or "Get your own." The ship crested a wave, unbeknown to them - and as the plunge began, they felt their bodies become light. In that moment, they looked into each other's eyes, sharing a look of impending dread, and knew what had to be done. As the ship entered a trough and they felt twice as heavy in an instant, they put their heads together and leaned over the bucket as one, sharing the unfortunate deed.

The warrior and his wife gripped each other's shoulders as they engaged in a mutual expulsion of the contents of their stomachs, the ship continuing to sway and pitch and dive.

Matthias and Cornflower kept a list back home of things they wanted to do as a couple, but this was most assuredly not one of them.

ENVOY

By Refleckshun