Skipper and the otters pulled the pathetic ferrets on dry ground, where they collapsed onto the grass, grateful for the sun on their backs.

"Never agin, mate," sobbed Greeseer. "Al'ays knew I weren't cut out fer a life at sea!"

"Up on your paws!" Hemlock ordered curtly. "Now put these on. If you're going to stay here, we'll have you looking like proper Redwallers."

Spliteer inspected the coarse cloth, longing for his old clothing. A plume of smoke near the front gate erased his hope of ever getting them back. He exchanged a glance with Skabeye, who nodded in the direction of the hares. The largest was watching them closely, the clacking of the thongs carrying on the wind towards the pond. The ferrets dutifully donned the smocks and stood awaiting their punishment. Hemlock exchanged words with the mouse that had earlier allowed them entrance. Then the Sister turned on her heel, leaving the ferrets with the otters, one of the hares, and the Abbess.

"Welcome to Redwall Abbey, I don't believe we've been properly introduced. My name is Ino, I am the current Abbess. This here is Skipper of the otters. He, Dral, and Bluback, will be staying with you while you remain here. To my left is Captain Sapwood. And you are?"

Spliteer attempted a small bow. "They call me Spliteer. These are me mates, Skabeye and Greeseer, and that sack o' bones is Flagg."

Sapwood gave a snort. "Bloomin' charmin' names."

Ino gave a stern glance to the hare, before bringing her attention back to the vermin. "And where do you hail from?"

Spliteer thought hard and fast. His answer would have made his mistress proud. "Wer the last o' ar tribe. No doubt yew recergnize th' name Azcar Darkfang? She's gone about the area calling ferrets to 'er banner. Ar's was one o' th' few that refused to join up so e'sly. Join 'r die. We ran like madbeasts." Spliteer shook his rough head sadly. "We lost ar good matey Flesnout when 'e fell be'ind."

Ino nodded sympathetically, but Spliteer knew the hare didn't believe a word of it. "Indeed, we have heard of the ferret you speak of. She is a true menace. But have no fear, she dare's not come this far." She couldn't prevent a small smile. "Redwall has long stood as a symbol of hope and safety to anybeast in need. Regardless, we can only put you up for a night, as per Captain Sapwood's request. With his recent ordeal it is only polite I honor his wish, or I would gladly extend your stay. In the meantime, however, we ask that you carry your weight. Please follow Skipper into the kitchens."

The ferret's eyes lit up at the thought of a second helping of food, but Skipper chuckled, shaking his head. "Not so fast mates. T' carry yore weight, you've got t' scrub dirty dishes!"

Flopeer conversed quietly with Beachtree, careful to keep their voices from rebounding off the walls of the empty Great Hall.

"Ya say ya recognize one o' those scurvy blighters, m'gel?"

Beachtree nodded, brows furrowed as she concentrated on remembering. "Me n' Whitepaw, up on th' summit...Hi remember at least ten o' 'em closin' in on us. She took out two an' Hi took out two. She cleared a path t' take us safely down. We rushed fer the clearin' an' a big un with a torn ear- split, rather- came outta nowhere." Beachtree felt her control slipping as the details of the night came rushing back to her. "He caught 'er hard on the arm; Hi think he took it right off. She screamed fer me t' run fer it, an Hi did. The vermin smelled blood, an' like the cowards they are, fell on Whitepaw, allowin' fer my escape."

A sob echoed through the silent room, causing both hares to leap to their foot paws. Redwick had been standing at the doorway listening, but not daring to interrupt. Beachtree quickly crossed over to her, wrapping the young squirrel in her arms.

"How could any creature be so cruel?" The squirrelmaid demanded, bringing her tears under control, and setting her face in grim determination. "And to think we're letting the very murderers stay under our roof."

Flopeer joined them. "Now don't you fret, miz. Yore Abbess is nothing but forgiving. There's not a hurtful bone in 'er body. Vermin are evil by birth. There's naught to be done but pity 'em and avoid 'em."

The sound of paw steps broke the three apart. In traipsed the three otters, the ferrets (who looked amusingly out of place in their white smocks, if anybeast had the heart to laugh), and a ladle wielding Vunnel bringing up the rear. Beachtree's ears straightened in suppressed rage.

"Naow daon't ee gurt beasties even think o' snartchin' any vikkles or oi'll see to it ar Sister Hemlock gets 'er paws on ye!" Vunnel tugged her snout in Beachtree's direction. "Wull be watchin' 'em gudd, marm, daon't ee fret!"

The hare smiled in response but with no trace of humor.