All three of the Nevarrs slammed their rudders came down on the table with one final "WHAM," like a thunderclap, and the great hall fell into a deafening silence.

After a moment, one of the youngest dibbuns - a scruffy mole naught but a season old - giggled in utter delight and started to clap its pudgy claws together. As if that were the signal, the crowd of abbey-beasts exploded into an uproar of applause and whistles.

Skipper's mouth was hanging open, and the expression was one of such comic disbelief that it looked as if his own mother had turned out to be a weasel. "Micah-Jack," he whispered, still only barely believing it. "One of the five Nevarr brothers… abandoned the sea?"

"Fallen ferra freshwater streamdog," Ricky bragged.

"And you're lookin' at proof," Tikky declared, crossing his arms smugly. "We're fifty pah-cent Migg himself."

Deyna could not help but smile at their audacity. The visiting sea otters swaggered under their family name, as if it was a shield of immunity that protected them at all times. The Redwall wasn't sure if he believed them, and he wasn't the only beast, either. Several of Skipper's crew shook their heads in disbelief and murmured to one another uneasily. Blekker even stepped forward with an angry growl at the visitor's cheek. "I've met many a young sea otter claiming special privileges by the name Nevarr. Anybeast with a rudder thinks they can get away with it… but I've never met any stupid enough to try and claim Micah's title."

"Aye, whaddo you think we are, country bumpkins?"

"We know our lore and you can't just march in—"

"That's enough," Ricky and Mhera barked at the same moment. They both had risen to their footpaws, but Ricky immediately bowed and gave the Abbess the floor with a respectful tug of his ear. Mhera eyed Blekker disapprovingly… though she felt strange for doing so, since the otter was technically her elder. Her job had been almost nothing but one of stern correction ever since the three sea otters had arrived in the abbey. "There is no special treatment to be had here for any visitors, be they beggars or Badger lords. Redwall is welcome to anyone and everyone."

Ricky cleared his throat: with a nod from Mhera, he spoke. "We come undah the name Nevahh, cuz that's what we ah," he explained with his head bowed humbly. "Cuz it means peace, from our family to yours. Not 'cuz we wanna take anyfin' from ya. We seen our fair share of ottahs claimin' to be part o'the Thundah-Holt." He pulled a small loop of twine from around his neck. "If you don't trust us, mites, then trust this." He held it up for all to see, displaying a white triangular pendant on the end of the string. Deyna peered at it for a moment, then realized it was the ridged tooth of a large fish. He had a feeling he knew which one.

"An' if you still don't," Tikky suggested with a grin. "Then just come visit our home sometime. Papa'll thrash you wif 'is wooden leg."

That finally got a few giggles from the crowd, and Deyna felt everyone start to relax again. However, to his slight horror, Nimbalo was unwilling to let the three guests take all bragging rights for the day: the impudent harvest mouse leapt atop one of the benches and jabbed a thumb towards the Redwall Warrior at his side. "You Nevarrs may come from an impressive bloodline, sure," he barked. "But bet'cha never faced the Taggerung when he's hungry!"

Many of the beasts in Great Hall let out confused grunts, and Deyna buried his face in his paws and groaned. "Oh, no, Nimbalo, don't make me do that silly trick." He looked pleadingly to the eldest of the sea otters and held his arms wide in search of sympathy. "Ricky's already sparred with me: there's nothing more for them to see!"

But the impetuous mouse was not the only one to have taken a liking to the idea. "Aye," growled Skipper smugly. He was one of the few other beasts in the chamber who knew what Nimbalo was suggesting. "I'd like to see a Nevarr try to pull that stunt, so I would! 'Tis worthy of a verse in the ballad of the Five Brothers itself."

"Aye," Blekker called out fiercely, which only made the Taggerung blush all the more. "Show 'em, Deyna!"

"Whip their tails into shape, matey," Jurkin hollered.

It did not take long for the enthusiasm of the few conspirators to infect the rest of the audience, and eventually the rest of the abbeybeasts cheered and hollered for their warrior until he reluctantly stood and trudged to the center of the performing area. "My friends," Nimbalo announced, having temporarily taken over the role of host while Boorab was busy untangling himself from the haredee-gurdy. "Our Deyna is known in some circles the Taggerung — the deadliest warrior alive!" The Dillypins whooped excitedly, and a few of Skipper's otters (particularly those who seemed to resent the arrogant Nevarrs) let out howls and growls of agreement. "But even more perilous is this beast if you should ever meet him when his stomach is empty!" The harvest mouse tossed his pal a bright red russet apple, which the Redwall Warrior caught in one paw without even turning his head to see the missile properly as it was thrown to him.

"I'll need an opponent," Deyna sighed as he rolled the scarlet fruit around inside his claws. He glanced over at the trio of sea otter siblings, who immediately turned to stare at one another. Tumbol looked stunned, and Ricky immediately held up his paws in surrender; the memory of the morning's sparring match was still fresh on his mind.

Fortunately, Tikky needed no further permission than their hesitation; he sprang to his feet like a firecracker and shot the Taggerung a toothy grin. "So, you're gonna eat that fing while we wrestle wiv' bare paws, eh, Tugger-ring?"

"Oh, you won't be bare-pawed," Deyna admitted with a small smile inching onto his face. The adrenaline and euphoria of what was about to happen was seeping into his features and pounding though his veins. He gestured to Skipper, who selected a sizable ridged knife from where it had been used during the meal to carve up a solid crusty barley loaf. There were several gasps as the head of the otter crew handed this blade to Tikky. Deyna caught the ashen look on his sister's face and immediately bowed his head. "We don't need to do this. It's far too dangerous."

All eyes turned to the abbess. She bit her lip at the eager faces that stared pleadingly at her, especially Skipper's, whose shoulders slumped as if this were a perfectly harmless performance. Mhera's gaze fell back on her younger brother, and she spoke in a murmur that was more hoarse than she had meant it to be. "Dangerous why?"

"Well, 'e might get cut," Tikky admitted—

"No," Deyna cut him off. "I won't." The Nevarr glared at him with a mixture of disapproval and awe. But Redwall's head warrior was focused only on the concern of his older sister. "This may be a practice drill, but I don't want to frighten anybeast," he explained. "…or give the dibbuns any ideas."

This of course caused the abbey babes to immediately start up a cheer, insisting that they be shown whatever unhealthy spectacle the Taggerung could possibly contrive. Mhera shut her eyes tight and sighed. "I want nobeast mimicking what they're about to see, is that clear?" she ordered in a loud, firm voice. "Deyna has trained for his entire life in order to perform this way. No one else, not even Skipper of Otters, can dare do this or ought to try." She received a surprised look from the otter chieftain, but then he shrugged in agreement and took his seat. The rest of his crew and the other audience members followed suite, until only Tikky and the Taggerung remained standing. Over by where Boorab had climbed out of the haredee-gurdy, Nimbalo knelt by one of the larger drums in the contraption and started to tap a simple beat with his claws. "Ba-bump-bum. Ba-bump-bum. Ba-bump-bum."

The sound echoed within Great Hall like the call of a war drum, and made the fur on many necks stand on edge. Deyna waved Tikky forward and flung his arms wide, welcoming an attack. The fiery Nevarr edged closer, spun the carving knife experimentally in his paw, then thrust it at the Taggerung's chest. Several of the watchers drew in sharp breaths as their warrior bent his back into an arch that the blade shot over: with the same motion, he batted the knife aside with the paw that clutched the apple, then spun away. The two otters landed on opposite sides of their invisible ring again, each calculating their next move. Tikky didn't charge headlong this time: instead he strode forward with bold, even steps and swung the weapon again. Deyna knocked the Nevarr's forearm back with an elbow and blocked the blade itself with the apple again. Tikky's right paw immediately swung around and stabbed downward, but the Taggerung thrust his own arms into the mix and spun again, redirecting the knife's momentum and twirling wildly with every maneuver. Sometimes he and Tikky were face-to-face. Other times they were ducking blows, twisting one another over… Deyna even shot into flips whenever the blade slashed out low for his waist or legs, and the audience would gasp as his body rolled skillfully in mid-air. Always his paws seemed just too close to the carving knife to have passed unscathed… and yet there was no grunt of pain, no drop of blood, not even a mark on his knuckles despite how often many of the watchers swore they could hear the whistle of the blade and the "SHHHHK," of something being sliced through.

Then, as suddenly as it had started, it was over: Deyna straightened up from his intricate weaving choreography and dealt Tikky three lighting-fast blows that caught the Nevarr by surprise and loosened his grip on the weapon's handle just enough for it to be snatched out of his grasp. The Taggerung stood with the carving knife in one paw, and the apple in the other. Tikky stared at him: disarmed, stunned, and thoroughly disgruntled. "Oy, you didn't eat it."

"Oh, I don't like my russet apples whole." The Redwall warrior shrugged. "I like to have them cut first." And with that, he opened his claws and let the seemingly-whole fruit collapse from its original shape, now divided into twelve equally-perfect sections. The abbeybeasts took one look at the slices and erupted into a chorus of shrieks and cheers — and the dibbuns especially became the loudest when Deyna tossed the apple pieces into their laps with a wink. Tikky looked as if he had just sat on a hornet's nest, and behind him Tumbol's face had turned completely ashen.

Ricky, however, was laughing uproariously and clapping his paws at the impressive stunt with the rest of the Taggerung's admirers. "Oy ain't nevvah seen bettah'n that, on me life," he howled.

Noticing that the other Nevarr brother was not taking the shock nearly as well, Deyna wiped a paw on his brow and patted Tikky firmly on the shoulder. "I nearly thought you had me there a few times, mate. I do believe the fur on my knuckles has been shaved a bit shorter now — take a look!" This finally earned a faint chuckle from his fellow otter, and soon the two of them were slapping one another on the back and shaking paws.

Amidst the cheering and shouts for an encore that were still resounding throughout the chamber, Deyna flopped down on the bench with the Nevarrs and held up his paws in refusal. Beside him, Tikky was still panting heavily, and he fished a ragged kerchief from his pocket to wipe his brow. "By the seasons," he huffed. "No one at home will believe that—"

He and all the other beasts in Great Hall fell silent at the sudden horrifying sound of a single, agonized wail. Gundil, who had been applauding the performance mere moments earlier, pointed at the scrap of cloth in the sea otter's paw while his black eyes filled with tears. "Oooh, me! T'is Fer-mole Brull's hanky-chief, urr oy'm a bloomin' bumblybee!"

All eyes turned to the crumpled fabric hanging from Tikky's frozen claws. The usually-jovial sea otter looked shocked as the other moles in the chamber started to nod and point in agreement. "Burr, aye, so 'tis!"

"Oy'd know et anywhurrs!"

"Tikky," Deyna started carefully. He held out an open paw, and the young Nevarr obediently set the handkerchief in it without question. The Redwall warrior examined the faint grey cloth. It was stiff and a bit soiled, but still fairly clean — as if it had been muddied, then rinsed by a rainstorm or two. He recognized the bright yellow embroidery along the edges; Brull had loved the buttery color, and had often requested extra needlework with it in her clothing and blankets. "Where did you get this?"

"It was hangin' on a gorse bush twixt here an' the Great South Stream," the sea otter replied, almost demure under the sad expressions that had come over the faces of every creature in Great Hall. "Wasn't no tracks by it… Why?"

"Did somebeast o'yours go missin' down there, Deyna?" Tumbol asked immediately. She and Ricky both seemed to have pieced together the situation in a matter of moments.

Skipper had risen to his footpaws, his face altogether grim. "There's no way Brull went that far — not on her own, at least."

Deyna swallowed eagerly and passed the kerchief to Gundil and the moles. "Tikky, is there any chance you could find that bush again?"

The sea otter was already upright, donning his hat in an instant. "You bet, mite."