Disibod was in the attic taking a nap after his late lunch when he felt a paw on his shoulder. He turned around and was delighted and terrified to see that it was his ghostly friend Linus.

"I have something I want to show you about the Abbot of this place. He is not to be trusted," said Linus.

Disibod blinked. "Is he hiding a body up here?"

The ghost laughed "No, it is worse than that. He is a regular knife."

"What do you mean by that?"

Linus held out his paw "Come and I will show you."

The dormouse did as he was bid and took the offered paw. He was suddenly lifted off his feetpaws and pulled into a vision.

A brief reorientation later, and he found that they were in a corner of the Abbot's study. Valentine sat at his desk, oblivious to their presence.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in." he said, pulling a bottle of wine out of a basket.

"You wanted to see me, Father Abbot, person-sir?" It was Lenny Leftwit, smiling nervously behind his mask.

"Come, sit." Valentine motioned to a chair directly across from him.

Disibod pointed at Harl in confusion. "Didn't he leave last night?"

Linus nodded. "This was a few days ago."

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" the actor asked, slipping into the offered seat as a novice shut the door behind him.

"Oh, I just wanted to do some business with you in regards to your soaps." Valentine said.

Lenny clapped his paws excitedly. "Of course! Always a pleasure!"

The Abbot poured him a glass of wine. "Do you like dry wines? I like to give my guests a drink whilst discussing business." The novice could be heard walking away.

"I don't drink much," Lenny admitted with a shrug. "My mother never approved of it. Said I was bad enough sober."

"Hmph, well as you wish." he took the glass for himself.

"Now, since the noviciate has left I would like to know where you get your soaps, Mister Leftwit. You can try to hide it all you want, but the soaps have the name 'Apple' engraved in them." He leaned forward, hands folded on the desk.

Lenny chuckled. "I didn't steal them dear sir, oh heavens no. 'Apple' is simply the brand. Helps me stand out from all the other soap sellers."

Valentine was not impressed. "Would be a shame if I showed the children that you had a rat in one of those barrels down the hall… Poor things have been in there so long they might as well have cramps all over. Are they your associate sales-beasts? If so, why are they stuffed in barrels?"

It was not a question Lenny had expected, nor one he could dismiss easily. "Yes, well, they signed up for it…" he said simply, drumming his fingers against the desk. "Forgive me but if you know about them… why did you…"

The Abbot grinned wryly. "Don't play games, sir what is your real business here? What are you really selling?"

"Well," said Harlapple, dropping the act entirely, his eyes narrowing. "I'll be selling you if you're not careful." The mouse stood up, slamming his paws upon the desk. "I'm here for the abbey, Abbot. I mean to conquer it."

"We are alone. But make one wrong step, and I can have you silenced forever. Don't try to threaten me. Tell me what you have to offer." he said.

"Offer?" Harl scoffed. "Your life, for one thing. Your freedom, for another. Most beasts are satisfied with that."

The abbot sat silently, waiting for the correct reply.

"If I said power would that please you?" the mouse spat.

The Abbot sipped a bit of wine. "Oh, you are going to have to be more specific than that."

"Well… you'll still be Abbot. I don't think the abbey would appreciate having a follower of Vulpuz lead their sermons."

"This Abbey stopped doing that long ago. This place is a husk of what it used to be." He paused, swirling the wine in his glass. "Anything else, or do I have to end you now?"

"I'd like to see you try old vole," Harlapple crossed his arms over his chest. "What is it you want, then?"

He smiled enigmatically. "What else do you have to offer?"

"A swift death," Harlapple snarled, drawing a knife and lunging at the abbot.

The abbot moved so swiftly that he seemed to vanish and reappear behind Harl. He then drew his own knife and held it to almost cutting point against Harl's throat.

For the record, I let him get behind me to lull him into a false sense of security. I had the situation entirely under control.

As if the universe had seen this coming, there was a sudden knock on the door, followed by the questioning voice of none other than the molemaid Bryn. "Farvur h'Abbot? Mister Leftwit? Ee Froir sent Oi wi' summ vikkles fur ee! Moi diggi' claws be gurtly filled though, can ee open ee dor fur Oi?"

"Gonna get that?" Harlapple snickered.

The Abbot leaned into the warlord's ear and whispered. "Sit down and put that silly mask back on. Try anything, and it will be the last thing you do." Sliding the knife out of sight, the abbot made his way to the door. "Why thank you, Bryn. You should be off to bed, it is late."

"Very late." Lenny Leftwit agreed, offering the mole a wave.

"Burr aye," she shuffled her footpaws, tugging her snout as she entered and placed down a heavy laden tray. "Tis an honor furr Oi t'be survin' ee guddbeasts!"

Ironic, I know.

"Thank you Bryn." Abbot Valentine said. He leaned over to the mole's ear and whispered "I am having a private meeting. The poor creature has some very, very personal stories he is telling me, and really doesn't want anyone else to hear them."

The molemaid nodded sagely, placing a claw to her nose secretively. "Burr aye, Farver. Oi'll be a-goin' then," she grinned warmly at the masked mouse, her dark eyes twinkling. "Doan't ee fret yurrself too much, gudd zur. Moi lips be sealed!" With that, Bryn trundled off, headed for the dormitories, and her soft, comfy bed.

"So… are we going to stab each other now or are you going to tell me what it is you want?" Harlapple removed the mask. "Because I do hold a lot of sway outside of this room. Name your price, good Father."

"I want respect. None of these filthy wretches have given me that since I came through these walls. If you give me that, I will not only give you the Abbey, but direct you to where the gold is buried beneath it." he said.

"You can keep the gold," Harl snorted. "Or share it with the vermin. I'm not here for it. Respect… Respect can be arranged Father." The mouse scratched at his cheek, his eyes lingering on the scar that ran down the abbot's face. "My horde would treat you like a king. This riff-raff?" He gestured at the walls to indicate the redwallers. "By the time I'm done with them they'll wash your feet if you so much as will it."

"Deal, but we need a plan." the Abbot said.

"I'm all ears," Lenny said, waggling his.

"I will have a feast in a few days… Do you think you can come with your horde that night whilst everybeast is sleeping?" the Abbot inquired.

"Well, I am staying here, but I could get the word out." Harlapple steepled his fingers. "I don't want a bloody takeover. I could have one of the barrels sent to open the gate…"

"Hmm, sounds good. Now, you may leave my office. Nice doing business with you… Mr. Leftwit." the Abbot said.

"A pleasure, Father Abbot," and with a sweeping bow, Harlapple stood up and left.

The vision faded and Disibod was back in the attic, slightly trembling. "He is a sell out, a traitor." He turned to Linus "What do I do?"

"Tell Phyllis, she will know what to do," said Linus, leaving the dormouse alone in the attic.

Footnote: A bit of a short chapter but they can't all be long ones :P