The harbor was crowded and noisy. Sailors, traders, captains and just looky-loos were all shouting something… A huge crowd of beasts looked like a giant ant-hill, where ants were running along the routes that only they were aware of.
Brome looked around tiredly at mice, otters, weasels, stoats and rats bustling about. He struggled not to lose sight of Grumm, who, in turn, struggled not to lose sight of his guide otter.
Someone pushed Brome in the shoulder and cursed. The beast crowded through, and Brome peacefully made an excuse. He was not used to crowd and bustle, Noonvale had often been roomy and quiet. Soon they would reach the ship that would take them home. It was the first time that Brome had left Noonvale since he ran away from home. He and Grumm bought the goods that the chief needed – an important mission that his father had finally committed to him. It meant he would become a grown-up very soon. Brome smiled and moved along. Suddenly, someone pushed him once again, this time in the back, and Brome couldn't maintain his footing and fell down. Feverishly trying to get up in the thick crowd, Brome cried out "Grumm!", but the little mouse's high-pitched voice vanished in the hubbub of clamor, babble and curses. Covering his head with his paws, Brome struggled to get up, leaning forward, and the crowd carried him on to the direction, opposite to Grumm. The latter turned back and started to call and look for Brome, but the old mole's weak eyes lost sight of the small mouse in a grey tunic among colourful motley figures. As the crowd carried Brome, he tried to squeeze to the edge to get out, but he couldn't elbow himself through the crowd as harbor frequenters could, pushing, jostling and kicking everyone around to corkscrew their way. Brome's quiet excuses faded in the growing roar of cursing and swearing. The crowd carried Brome to the sordid den near the harbor. The mouse frightenedly looked around with his eyes wide open – inns, shacks, weapon stands and pirates were passing by. Brome turned around and suddenly bumped into someone's picturesquely tattooed belly. He slowly lifted his throbbing head to see a chest, also tattooed, and then a narrow evil muzzle of a pirate rat, with small eyes and sharp fangs sticking out of his chops. But there was something familiar in this face...
"Mate, you?! What brings you here?!"
It was Wulpp, Brome recognized him right away. He remembered bandaging his paw and then sparing his life during the Battle of Marshank. Brome's thoughts were interrupted by Wulpp's exclamation, who grabbed the mouse by the shoulders and, having wholeheartedly shaken him, amiably drubbed him in the back with all his might.
"I recognized you at once, my mate Bucktail! The face I'll never forget!"
Wulpp grinned happily, examining Brome, who was completely disconcerted.
"Hi…"
Brome smiled. Despite all the misfortunes of the day, meeting Wulpp was rather a fortune. Besides, Brome had been thinking of Wulpp – if he'd gotten out alive on that horrible day, with that wound. Because of searats, many of Brome's friends had been killed, but no matter what, he couldn't hate Wulpp. Even if he hadn't screamed "Don't kill me!" then, Brome would still have missed with the dart on purpose.
"So what brings you here?" Wulpp repeated, grabbing Brome by the paw and easily pulling him out of the bustle.
"I… Well, we were about to set sail, and I got lost…" the mouse murmured in response, rubbing his bruised head. Suddenly he smiled and looked up at the rat. "We don't have so many beasts at home."
"Boy, look at him!" Wulpp was finally able to examine the mouse from top to toe. "A mouse for all the world! And I fell for it back then… would say – a pirate, no less! I guess you're not even called Bucktail, are ya?"
"I'm Brome," the mouse smiled once again. His good mood returned to him, and natural amiability took advantage over his tiredness. "But if you want, I'll be Bucktail for you. A horrible sea pirate!"
They laughed at Brome's simple joke. Now he looked the least like Bucktail he used to be back then.
"Let me see you to the harbor," Wulpp offered. "I bet you can't find your way there on your own."
"Thank you! What would I do if I hadn't met you?!" Brome even jumped with joy.
"I believe you'd find any old tavern and get hammered!"
Now it was Brome's turn to laugh out loud.
They were walking down the narrow backstreets, and Wulpp said:
"I told you I don't forget good deeds, mate. You wished me good luck then! I'll never forget it… We had greater strength on our side, but you were stronger than all of us put together."
"But how?" Brome looked at Wulpp with surprise. "I killed no one. I'm no warrior…" Brome threw up his hands sadly.
"Don't be silly!" Wulpp even got angry. "To finish someone off is a piece of cake. I know that myself. But NOT to do so is not easy at all. Especially when your enemy is on the ground and your friends are dying."
"My friend Felldoh was killed there, and then my sister Rose…" Brome hadn't expected he would say about Felldoh and especially about Rose to the beast who had been on the opposite side of the barricades, who even might have participated in killing Felldoh. In Noonvale Brome rarely told anyone about his grief, his parents couldn't talk about Rose, and neither could Grumm. It was a taboo topic, otherwise there was no strength left to keep on living. Everything had been said and no-one spoke about it. But Brome could not keep silent – all of a sudden, he wanted to tell those beasts, whom Wulpp represented, how it hurt to lose your close ones and your friends only because of someone's ambition and lust for power… he wanted to tell how Felldoh wanted to enjoy holidays and pick camomiles, how Keyla might have wanted to watch the show for the fort holders… Then Brome felt he was about to cry, and it was something he had no right to do. Wulpp didn't say anything. They were approaching the harbor and could already see the topmasts.
"Why can't all the beasts live in peace – just live… why, Wulpp?" the mouse looked up at the rat. "Why can't they stop killing each other and be friends like us?"
The harbor was almost near, and the streets had emptied. The mouse and the rat stopped on a bridge. Wulpp looked down at the dark water and replied:
"Well… how do you call it… It's fate, you know. Someone is born a rat, someone is born a mouse. You can't help killing. That's the nature of things, mate."
"I don't believe it!" Brome said heartily, grabbing Wulpp's paw and looking right into his eyes. "I don't want to believe in it! That's not true! We all come and die, we love, we hate, we make friends and dream… we're not different! And we can all be sad or hurt, and we have the same red blood… It's just that someone uses our love and our hate to their own advantage. And I believe that someday all the beasts will live in peace and be friends, no matter whether you're a rat or a mouse!"
Brome looked transfigured – a quiet and small mouse had turned to a stately and wise one, like someone who can see the future and actually sees it already, but the others don't notice. The mouse and the rat looked in each other's eyes and said nothing. Suddenly, Wulpp smiled:
"I guess you're right! We're mates now, and if we're mates, that's forever, mind you! Now run, you don't wanna miss the ship!" Wulpp waved his paw to the harbor.
"See you!" Brome hugged the searat and ran to the harbor.
As he ran, he repeated:
"If we're mates, that's forever!"
And smiled:
"And "mate" means "friend"!"