Oh? You wanted to know what happened when we went to get revenge on Barley Mae and company? Well get used to disappointment because you can't always get what you want! You're getting Wrackfur and a whole lot of Disibod! And you're going to like it!

Harlapple returned to his miserable camp four vermin shorter, tired, exhausted and in every way, defeated. The hordebeasts I had left behind had done an admirable job of cleaning up and repairing the previous night's devastation, but I was in no mood to admit that. He had half a mind to haul Snowbelle straight to the gates of Redwall and lop her head off for all to see. That would show the abbeybeasts he meant business.

But he shoved the thought aside. For one thing, killing his only hostage would not put him into an advantageous position- and it would only compel the Redwallers to fight back with even more vigor. He doubted Milo, or even his mother would spare him any good will. And then there was the gut-feeling he had that he wouldn't be able to do it even if he wanted to. That something, some memory of happier days, would stay his paw and he'd call his own bluff in front of everybeast.

What good is knowledge if I have no power to act on it? A pawful of their fighters and they made my horde look like the dumb lumps of flesh they are. He forced himself to remain calm. He still had two aces up his sleeve. One was a literal Ace. The other was the Abbot. The cursed old vole who had somehow known who he was…

Of course, I know better than to trust him with anything. After today he'll look like a joke if he surrenders, might even get thrown out.

Dung, named for his resemblance to his namesake, tapped him on the shoulder. "Boss."

"If it's not important I don't want to hear it!" Harlapple snapped, turning to glare at the large vermin.

Dung swallowed. "W-w-well er- issabout the name of the horde."

The mouse's rage simmered down. A little. "Let's hear it then." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well erm, we thought about it. A-an' we talked alot. An' in the end we decided- as a group- to call ourselves…" Dung grinned nervously. "The Rotten Fruit!"

"The… what?" Harlapple blinked. "I hope, for your sake, that I misheard that. Did you, as a group, decide to call yourselves The Rotten Fruit?"

Dung swallowed, having seen enough of the mouse's temper to know that he was in trouble now. "Er- well-"

Harlapple raised a paw to silence him. "No. Don't talk. Do not. Talk." The mouse took what felt like the deepest breath of his life. He promptly exploded. Not literally, to the regret of goodbeasts everywhere no doubt, but figuratively. His voice echoing past the camp and through the forest of Mossflower. "IS THIS A JOKE TO YOU!?"

Wrackfur sauntered to the edge of the camp. Harlapple's exclamation had been loud enough to wake the dead...

Bill, saddled with the first watch of the night, heard the sound of a beast approaching and stood up swiftly, his crossbow in paw. "Who goes there? I swear hell-squirrel if it's you I will run you through!"

Wrackfur chuckled. "Wi' that? Yew'd best be be'er at oidentifyin' beasts than yew're yer pikes!"

"It was a figure of speech, you oaf." Bill snapped. "What're you doing outside of the camp anyways?"

"Hehe, wot'm Ah doin' ootside? No' gettin' mah tail in a twist, that's what!" The weasel's tummy grumbled, a reminder as to why he'd come. "Naow, who're yew working fer? Someone 'as to 'ave the brains 'ere."

Bill scowled. "I'm afraid you're talking to the only beast with brains in this entire camp!" The fox shook his head. "The rest of these dunderheads follow a stupid mouse and his sweet hag of a mother." The fox snarled. "Nobeast here has any idea how a proper horde should be run!"

Wrackfur chuckled again and took a step past the fox, shaking his head. "Ah'll bet yew tell 'em the roight way t'do thin's, that right? Yew'd best keep guarding then, champ while's Ah bring yer concerns to the uh- who's in charge ag'in?"

"Mouse called Harlapple." An angry tirade could be heard even at this distance. "He's the one currently screaming."

Wrackfur threw his head back and laughed a great heaving chuckle. "Oh, that 'un." His lazy grin spread from ear to ear, for the sound of consternation was music to his ears. "Guess Ah'll go talk to him then. … "put in a good word fer ya."

"I don't need a good word from the likes of you. But please, if it'll get your mangey fur out of my sight, go ahead."

"My entire life has lead up to this moment!" Harlapple snarled, grabbing Dung by the front and pulling him down to his height. "And I will not let you idiots make a mockery of everything I have sacrificed just to get here!"

Wrackfur chuckled again and strode towards the comparatively tiny mouse, currently yelling into the ears of a hapless vermin. "Yew're the one in charge of this uh-" he chuckled. "- this crack team o' beasties?"

"And that is why-" Harlapple's ear flickered at the new voice, and letting go of Dung, the mouse turned to face the weasel, his red hot fury chilling to an icy glare. "I am," he snapped. "What of it?"

Wrackfur pointed back to the fox sentry and chuckled again. "Yew migh' need a be'er lookout then. The badgerlor' o' Salamanderstron coul' jus' waltz right pas'. Wot're yew evwn doin' in this neck o' the woods?"

"What does any warlord do in these neck of the woods? I'm here to take the abbey." Harlapple glared the weasel down, silently daring him to chuckle. One. More. Time…

"Yehew? Taking th' Abbey?" Wrackfur doubled over laughing. "If tha's th' case, I imagine yew got more like tha' fox 'round 'ere."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Harl demanded, icily, his paw trailing to the handle of Martin's blade.

"Wrackfur's grin widened if it were possible. "Whaat? Can't figger it oot? Y'need better foddah, since yew can't be trusted wi' th'plans!"

"And what would you know about planning?" Harlapple drew the famed blade. "I snuck into the abbey, stole their fabled blade and have a pair of hostages. My plans are going perfectly well." The mouse poked the weasel not too lightly in the chest. "Only a fool needs fodder. A good leader does not waste his resources."

The sword was out now, and Wrackfur took an involuntary step back to avoid it. His lazy grin faltered, but he shrugged and continued. "Tha's why yew have foddah, then, Ah'd reckon. Ah've been one o' them resauces, and if'n the Abbey's ennything like the Lon' Patrol, yew've already lost. Otters, hares, weasels… plenny things could kill a li'l mouse. Even yer fox there'd be a goner, no' t'mention him." Here Wrackfur jabbed his thumb into Dung's gut, emphasizing his point. "Yer gonna need someone wi' more 'sperience if'n you wan' a chance."

'Otters, hares, weasels… plenny things could kill a li'l mousie…' I do hope you're not trying to be subtle… Harlapple considered ending the weasel then and there. He was mouthy, arrogant, and far too condescending for the warlord's liking. Nevertheless, the mouse stayed his paw. Beasts were often cocky for a reason, and he had more than enough enemies already. "What kind of experience, pray tell, does a beast like you have?" Harlapple gestured at one of the vermin's scars. "Cut yourself chopping up a log?"

Brow furrowed, Wrackfur slowly remembered the reason for that particular wound. "Hmmm… it's a li'l fuzzy… Oh! Was all by m'lonesome for that 'un, when some o' them shrews- the uh, the uh, gwe-gwi- yew know their names, anyhow, came up and tried to lop off m'head. Took two or thrae o' the buggers afore the rest got wise and ran off." He continued in his own thoughts. "It kinda becomes the same ol' thing, after a while…"

"Of course," Harl narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Not to be rude or anything, but if a couple of shrews can do… that to you." The mouse gestured at the numerous scars covering the weasel. "How are you any use to me?"

Wrackfur shrugged, lazily watching the rest of Harlapple's camp. "Ah'd reckon Ah'm a roight sight be'er than wot yew've got naow, eh? Hehe, yew los' any yet?"

"If you want to join," Harlapple growled, ignoring the question. "You are welcome to do so. I'm sure we have some spare tent for you somewhere. But if I get so much as a hint of trouble from you, I will make you wish you had never been born." The warlord glared him down. "Clear?"

Wrackfur opened his mouth to retort, but his stomach spoke first. Loud enough for the mouse to hear.

"Oh and food will be provided at mealtimes," Harlapple smiled, studying the weasel and prodding them none-too-gently in the gut. "If you do as you're told of course."

The mouse won out in the end. Wrackfur, sold out by his own stomach, let his grin fade and offered his paw to the mouse. "Alrigh' then, mousey. Wot's yer name?

"Harlapple," the mouse announced, sheathing his blade and letting the large weasel's paw envelop his own. "But you will refer to me as 'boss'."

"Ah'm Wrackfur, mou-… boss." He gently shook Harlapple's paw, or as gently as the brutish weasel could. "Naow, wot d'yew wan' me t'do? An' where's the vittles?"

"As I just told you, food will be provided at mealtimes. You eat when I say so. No sooner." The mouse drew his paw away quickly (before the weasel could crush it some more) making a mental note to wash it thoroughly with any soap he still had. "As for your duties, you can start by sharing the first watch with Bill." Harlapple gestured at the scowling fox standing at the entrance to the camp. "We can discuss more in the morning. For now, my horde needs rest." The mouse waved the weasel away. "Dismissed."

His stomach growled again and Wrackfur stood there waiting for food. "Ah'm hungry."

Harlapple gritted his teeth, his paws curling into fists. "Fine then, since you are new here I will be generous. Skunksnot, bring Wrackfur something to eat." He glared at the weasel. "After that I expect you on watch."

Chuckling at the vermin' name, Wrackfur nodded and followed the ferret.

And that is how my horde got their tree. Can't say I like Wrackfur- too much tongue on him- but I have found that you can never have enough dumb muscle.

The night was still and calm back at Redwall Abbey, with everybeast snuggled up in their dormitory beds. A mistle thrush warbled out its lonesome song as the moon, its bright face like a polished coin, gazed down upon the ancient stone building and its inhabitants. Asleep in his borrowed dormitory bed, Disibod was awoken by a little paw jabbing his forehead.

Rye stood at the edge of the tired brother's bed, "Dizi?" the little toddler went on his tip-toes and nudged the brother again, "Bizi? Are you awake?" he whispered again.

He groaned. "Yes Rye, I'm awake."

The tot jumped up and scrambled onto the bed, "Bisi?

Disibod sat up "What's wrong, Rye?"

Rye sniffed, "I can't sleep."

He rubbed the mouse's little head "Why can't you sleep?"

Rye scooted closer, "I've been having thoughts."

"What kind of thoughts? Are they bad ones?" he inquired.

"I don't know…... They just keep on bothering me," the field mouse lied down next to Disibod. "You smell like bread," he finally whispered after a sigh.

"What are the thoughts about? …...Are they about your family?" he asked.

"No…... Dizi, you smell like bread." he rubbed his paws, "…...C-can you make bread?"

"Yes I can, Rye." he replied.

"Really?" Rye started to get his hopes up, "Will you make bread?"

"Sure I will, Rye." he yawned after saying that.

The tot hugged Disi, "Thank you. I bet it will taste great." A few tears rolled down his face, and he sniffed really loudly.

The dormouse gave him a hug back. "What else is bothering you, little one?"

"It's Mel," he sobbed into Disi's habit.

"What did she do?"

"She won't listen."

"Oh," he sighed, "I'm sure she will come around. Until then, don't worry. I will talk to her tomorrow. How does that sound."

"Hmmm…" there was a long pause, "Thank you," he sighed again, "Bizzy? I want you to know something."

"What, Rye?"

"I love you. If my family were still here, I think they would too," Rye snuggled close to the brother and tried to hug him even tighter.

This really touched the half-awake dormouse deeply. He gave him another hug. "I love you too, Rye. And I bet I would love your family too."

"Hmm…" the tired mouse seemed to be wanting to say more, but all that came out was a few snores. The toddler was fast asleep.

Disibod carefully got out of his bed, laid the tot down, and tucked him in. He then put on his sandals and knife (for he was already dressed as his order required him to be ready at a second's notice) and quietly slipped out of the room. His mission was to make Rye some bread, but he did not actually know how to make bread. How hard could it be? He lit a small rush candle and then made his way through the Great Hall. He examined the flame as he went, admiring its small but bright glow. In doing this, he almost tripped down the stairs to Cavern Hole because he was so distracted by that flame. The dormouse made his way into the kitchens and began to search for things that he might need to make bread. Since it was the middle of the night, but not exactly, Clovis was not there.

He set a fire in the oven to warm it and started looking for some sort of yeast. Disibod eventually found what he was looking for and set everything on a countertop. He found a larger candle and set it beside his ingredients.

"sigh This is what you get for lying." He scolded himself. The dormouse didn't even know where to begin. Obviously, flour, yeast, and water were involved, but he was definitely ignorant of the proportions and any other ingredients that needed to be used. Disibod remembered that Linus's parents were local bakers in his hometown. As soon as the memories surfaced, tears started to roll down the dormouse's face. He had tried to push the memories away since he left the shore. All they did was cause pain. Disibod mourned the loss of his friend there in the kitchens for around a good thirty minutes. He felt a paw gently rest on his right shoulder. This caused him to panic and spin around, elbow outstretched to hit the intruder. He was met by air as his arm went through a frowning Linus. Disibod gasped and backed up against the counter.

The apparition crossed its arms. "Boo," Linus said flatly.

The dormouse put a paw on his chest "D-Don't scare me like that."

Linus went over to the counter and made like he was inspecting the ingredients "What are you trying to do, Brother Disi?"

The dormouse attempted to regain his composure "Bread."

"Would you like help?" Linus asked.

"Sure" Disi said without looking at Linus.

"Why do you look guilty? Disi, what trouble did you get yourself into this time?" Linus was now leaning on the counter.

Disibod took a deep breath in. "Linus, this cowl is not mine. It is yours. I- I swapped my cowl with yours after I drug your body ashore…" Disi was going to break down again.

Linus put a paw on his friend's shoulder "Disi, there is nothing wrong with what you did. That was a rather sweet sentiment. Besides, I can't tell you how many times I borrowed your sandals without permission."

Disibod sniffed "You mean it?"

"Yes, it really was… As for the sandals, you are not my first victim. I used to steal ol' Brother Victor's before you came to our little island." Linus said. He turned towards the counter again. "Now do you want to make bread… or just talk until the sun rises?"

"Both?" Disibod responded. He did not want his friend to leave so soon.

"Sounds good to me. Now!" Linus clapped his paws together "First things first, put those eggs away. You will not need those or… the cream…"

Disibod put the items away and returned to see Linus frowning at the water he had set out to use.

"What's wrong with the water?" he asked.

"It's too cold to make bread. What are you trying to do, kill the yeast?" Linus replied.

"Well, no… how warm does it need to be exactly?"

"First you need to put the fire out in the oven and then you just need to transfer the water to any pottery really and set it in the oven. When it is not cold anymore, and slightly warmer than yourself, take it out and put the starter in it and give it sugars to wake it up. That is really all you can do tonight as it will take until morning for the yeast to be fully ready." Linus now appeared to be sitting on the countertop.

Disi went over to the oven and put the fire out. Getting the charred wood out was not a problem and he soon had the inside cleaned. After finishing the tasks set out for him, Disibod sat on the counter with Linus.

"So, got anymore view altering, life scaring stuff you want to drag me into?" the dormouse said.

"No, I don't, thankfully. Besides, I was told not to do that again… by Martin." Linus replied.

"Who?"

"You forgot…. Again?"

"OHHHHH, wait, is it that guy that…"

"Yes."

"You didn't let me finish."

"…And? I kind of could guess what you were going to say."

"I bet you are wrong."

"…The guy who had you do stuff around the abbey yesterday and brought you here?"

"How did you know that is who I was going to say?"

"Because he is literally only one of the three males you have talked to here."

"Sigh I guess you are right."

The two sat silently for about a minute.

Linus was the one to break the silence. "Disi, it breaks my heart to see you this way."

"What way, Linus?"

"The innocence is gone from your eyes, you don't smile as much as you used to, and your spirit is crushed to the point where if Rye were taken away, you would fall over dead. It is not healthy…." Linus explained.

"I… I know. I just don't know how to fix that myself." Disibod sighed.

"Maybe this will help." Linus gave Disibod a book.

It was a book very, very familiar to Disi. The dormouse took the book. "Thank you, Linus. I hope it helps, too."

"Sooo…. thought about staying here a while?"

"No," Disi replied "I really haven't thought about staying here. I was thinking about maybe taking Rye and Melangell back with me. I know a couple who would love to take them in…"

"How are you going to get back home? Do you know where it is from here?" Linus asked.

"Yes! One of our brothers… name slips my memory… taught me how to navigate using the stars. So, I can use that to get back home." Disibod said enthusiastically. He was not a fan of this place...

"Would you stay here a while for me?" Linus asked, "I will be a little more active if you stay…"

"Why do you want me here?"

"Oh, you will find out in time. Besides, you are not fit enough for that long trek, nor do you have the resources. I know that you are just passing through, but at least give this place a chance."

"I do not ever want to switch orders, if that is what you are poking at, Linus."

"No, no, I am not poking at that. I was just poking at all of your opportunities to help this place get back on its feet… Ya know?"

"Hmmh, I never thought of it that way. I will stay here for your sake, and I guess I could try to help around here, if I don't try to turn the north west corner into a hermitage first."

They conversed for about an hour more. Some time in there, Disibod had curled up into a ball, with his tail curling over the front of his face, on the countertop and fell asleep.

Linus waited until his friend was fast asleep before blowing out the candle and departing.