"But I don't wanna go with you! I wanna go with Twinetail to play with the other dibbuns!" Ripeye dug his heels into the smooth wooden floor. Crooksnout looked at his son about with a nastier-than-normal look on his face.
"You're not safe outtah me sight and I'm not gonna let the ghost attack you again!" His father yanked his arm to get him started again. "Besides you've gotten yerself inta too much trouble. Runnin' about causing havoc!"
"Yew told me an Twinetail t' do that!"
"I said if ye were gonna do it yew gotta be certain yer gonna get away wiv it!" His father snapped.
"I did! I snuck food from the kitchen without that rolly-poly squirrel catching' us an' I dumped snow on a group o' cloaked mice when they walked inta a trap fer Karic and Bramble." Ripeye didn't mention that the trap he and Twiggy had sprung had managed to dump a wheelbarrow full of snow onto the abbot. His father might not think that was as much of a shining accomplishment as Ripeye thought he should.
"Then ye thought it smart t' try and steal jewelry from that bloody seer! You wanna see the gates of the Dark Forest don't ya lad!"
"Sathe the Stupid wouldn't show Beskit her necklace, so I snatched it from her when she wasn't looking," Ripeye complained. "Ye said it's good t' steal."
Crooksnout's twisted snout pointed towards his son. "Steal from beasts who are less vile or cunning as ye. Better yet don't steal at all! If we were still in the horde Sathe would've had yer 'ead! Even worse Roteye would've gotten her filthy claws on ye!"
Don't steal? Dad never would've said that if we were with the horde! Ripeye thought as his father pulled him along the warm corridors of Redwall Abbey. It was the first time that he had left the infirmary since the Ghost of Martin the Warrior had attacked him and his friends. It was boring being stuck inside all day. The seer and the old squirrel, with candied nuts in her many pockets, had done just about everything except tie him to the bed to keep him from getting out and playing with Twiggy and Beskit. The big hare that always seemed to hang about the seer seemed friendly, but he was also cowed into submission by the ferret. The badger with a scar on her neck still scared the little weasel, who didn't see her as highly as his friends. They had told him that she loved to play games with them, but Ripeye didn't feel like he wanted to be made into weasel stew.
"Daddy?" Ripeye started. "Are stripedogs bad?"
"Aye, all o' them are," Crooksnout responded as they slowed to walk down a long hallway with colorful stained glass.
"Then why are Beskit and Twiggy not afraid of the old one in the infirmary?"
"I dunno. 'ave ye asked 'em?"
Ripeye furrowed his brow in frustration. He wouldn't dare admit to them that he was afraid, pirates were never afraid. "No. But we don't hav' t' worry about 'em because we'll beat 'em in a fight, right?"
"As long as ye have a weapin wid ye or can strike 'em widout lookin' you'll have nothing to fear." His father said as he looked at a window with a small golden weasel lying beneath a giant badger.
"Yarr then we pounce on 'em an' scare their stripes off!" Ripeye responded happily.
"Aye." His father responded as he looked away from the stained glass and pulled him down the hallway at a trot.
"Oh! Didja see my scar from when the ghost got me. Beskit and Twiggy say it looks like I'm a real-"
Just as Ripeye was about to finish the door at the end of the hall was thrown open pulling him from his thoughts. Several vile voices were heard bickering amongst each other as a hare led two older weasels down the corridor. They spotted Crooksnout and Ripeye and called out to them.
"Oi, why aren't yew two scraggly bugs working? Me an' ol' Jem's gotta move all the snow so yew abbey-dwellers kin walk about with dry paws but we're freezing ours off!"
Crooksnout continued walking without acknowledging the two vermin. The hare prodded them forward with the haft of his spear.
"Hurry up yew two. Your son's been awake all bloody morning and you've got all the walls t' clear before lunch, wot wot!"
"Why don't ye help us yew fat frog! Once me sons off his lazy rump we'll be outtah this vile place! That or we'll come back t' slit yer gullet while ye sleep!"
The hare forced a laugh. "That gets funnier each time ye twisted posies say it. Now hurry up or I'll take ye both back outside, wot wot."
Crooksnout slid to the side of the hallway to give the three beasts room to spare. Ripeye tried not to gag. The closer they got the heavier and sourer the air became. Did these beasts also know magiks? It would explain their horrifying stench.
As they walked past each other Ripeye locked eyes with the female. His eyes widened as she jolted toward him and grabbed his free arm.
"Kin we take this one wid us? He looks big an' strong and needs somethin' t' do! The other ones got a busted arm so 'es worthless."
Ripeye cried out in shock as he tried to pull away from the vile-smelling weasel, but she didn't budge.
"Let go of him you twisted bastard!" His father shouted kicking her arm. She screamed in pain as his foot found her wrist jarring Ripeye free.
"Iv yew touch me mate ill slay ye and yer maggot infested kit!" The other yellow-eyed weasel shouted.
"I just did ye ugly lump! An ill bash yew and yer mates faces if ye touch 'im again!" Crooksnout spat as spittle flew from his mouth.
The vile weasel grabbed Crooksnout's collar as the two began to curse each other with horrid oaths. The hare thrust his spear between the two vermin and tried to pull them apart. Ripeye fled behind his father holding on tightly to his leg as the two beasts snarled and snapped at each other.
"Let go you vermin scum!" The hare shouted as he pulled the yellow-eyed weasel off his father. Suddenly the two vermin broke away as Crooksnout cupped Ripeye's head in his paw. Ripeye watched as the hare pushed the other weasel back. He didn't notice his kneeling mate and tumbled into her crashing with a flurry of curses at his mate, the hare, and Crooksnout. Ripeye laughed along with his father.
"I'll gut yew you spineless scum! Iv this hare wasn't here I would've ripped yew and your maggot's tail off!"
"Threaten him again an I'll send ye t' the Dark Forest ye stump-headed tosser!"
"Shut up both of ye! Before I bounce all yer 'ears off o' stone, wot!" The hare barked at the vermin.
"Remember my words scum." Crooksnout hissed as he took Ripeye's paw and led him down the hall.
"Yer sons got a marking for death!"
"An' yours is already half dead!" Crooksnout laughed before slamming the door to the hallway.
"Stay away from those fools, Rip. They'll only getcha inna more trouble." Crooksnout said before sneezing. They stood in a larger corridor with a coarse brown rug on the floor and square stone columns every eleven steps. Windows and benches aligned the corridor on one side as a grand staircase leading to the ground floor and subsequent kitchen opened on one end before ending as another endless row of doors began.
"I bet ye scared their stripes off!" Ripeye said as he bounced on his toes.
"I bet I did!" His father responded with a proud smirk strewn across his face. "If 'e bothers you or your brother lemme know. Those Redwallers can keep their rules none of my kin will have a hair on their heads touched by those scum!"
His father bent over and spoke with a wry smile. "It's why yer mother decided t' have ye and yer siblings with me."
"Seabane said it was because yer the only weasel she could find," Ripeye responded.
His father's expression faltered. "B-w-well do ye see him with a mate?"
"No."
"Exactly. Which means he doesn't know anything of the sort."
Ripeye figured his father's reasoning made sense. It was true that his father's wisdom was second to none, he wondered why Seabane never seemed to listen to it.
"Are ye sure yer not lost? We're not heading to the library," Ripeye complained after a few steps.
"We are you mangy mite! Iv ye weren't dragging yer paws behind ye like a sad sop we'd 'ave seen yer mother and we could 'ave our paws propped on the books by the fire."
"Nuh uh! Ye told mum that yer mouse guard would've clobbered yew over the 'ead iv yee tore a page from one."
Crooksnouts face scrunched in surprise before raising a brow.
"How'd ye hear that ye little spider?"
Ripeye shrugged. "I've got good ears. I kin hear a fly bump into the window at the end of the hall."
Crooksnout craned his head and strained his eyes looking for the bug. Ripeye wasn't lying to his father, he knew his hearing was better than all his friends. It was helpful to eavesdrop on their plans to attack his treasure when they played, and it was useful to hear the footsteps of vermin or Redwallers searching for him after he'd stolen some vittles.
"I also heard a bit of Sathe and that hare last night," Ripeye murmured as he stared at his feet.
"Ha! An whaddid ye hear?" His father asked, leaning down to his son's height.
Ripeye looked around. Seeing that there was nobody but the two weasels he cupped his paw to his mouth.
"I think they kissed!"
"They did?" Crooksnout laughed and wrapped his good arm around his shoulder. "Well let's keep that our lettle secret! Ye never know when a rumor kin become yer best friend."
Crooksnout ushered his son down the hall. "Now yer mother wants t' see ye. Ye think ye kin use yer ears t' figure which one o' these doors she's behind?"
"I hear a lot o' beasts behind that one." Ripeye pointed at a round door closest to them.
"Aye. Well, I don't need yer hearing t' know that." Crooksnout said as he quickly rapped on the door. The cheery voices ground to an immediate halt before the door was thrown open by a tall otter maid. She looked down at them and cocked her head before breaking into a wide smile.
"You're Crooksnout, mmm?"
"Who's askin' riverdog?"
The otter's smile faltered and Ripeye could see a cold judgment enter her eyes.
"Oh, stop being a rude twit, Crook! Come in!"
The otter stepped aside as Ripeye was pushed toward his mother's voice. His father's claws dug into his shoulder as he passed the otter guarding the door. The room was small and stuffy, far too small for the gaggle of beasts seated inside it. Ripeye sneezed as his nose was assaulted by the scent of cinnamon and twine and struggled not to cough as he moved further into the room. There was a gasp and a few warm chuckles as he wiped his nose with his habit. Out of instinct, he shied away from the dozen or so Redwallers watching him with curious intensity.
"C'mere my lettle spider." Ripeye's mother threw out her arms wide for him. She was sitting in a chair with a mess of string tumbling about and around her. Several small shirts and old habits lay about her in a disordered pile. She looked out of place amongst the Redwallers and their finely organized and folded clothing. Ripeye cautiously approached looking for any danger the Redwallers might pose to him before leaping into her arms. Silvertongue grunted in shock as the other beasts laughed and spoke in sweet, hushed voices.
"Oh, I see where he has your nose!" An eager-looking hedgehog maid said from her seat next to Silvertongue.
"I've never seen red fur like that." A squirrel said as she plucked a loose strand from his head. "Did you say it changes color depending on the season?"
"He gets white patches here and there when the winter comes, but we don't think his fur will change as he grows." His mother replied. There was a happy lightness in her voice. It was something he hadn't heard in her voice in seasons.
"His eyes are such a pretty brown. Very... umm... earthy." A shrew chirped. His mother beamed with pride as Ripeye looked between her and his father for solace.
His father wore an uncomfortable frown. "How are ye my wicked briar?"
"Much better now that my baby is here," Silvertongue responded as she rubbed Ripeye's head. "Are you feeling any better after that nasty ghost attacked ye?"
Ripeye nodded, still wary of the unfamiliar woodlanders. "I got a cool scar. Now I wanna play pirates wif Twiggy an' Twinetail."
A chorus of laughter broke through the gentle clicking of knitting needles.
"Twiggys told me that you're a fantastic pirate." said a hedgehog as she put down a small glass of a dark liquid. "He hardly ever stops babbling about you and your friends."
Ripeye was unsure of the compliment. After a moment of strained silence, his mother responded for him.
"He's loved playing pirates since 'e could crawl. I'm jus' happy 'e an' Twinetail could find playmates while we stay. Makes healin' a bit easier when yer not worrying about yer kits."
There was a cheery chortle of agreement with Silvertongue's statement. She seemed to swell with even more pride seeing that she was fitting in with the woodlanders. It was an odd sight, his mother had never thought highly of otters, shrews, and mice. The company of vermin was all he had known up until this winter. His mother had warned him about how pathetic and weak these beasts were. Ripeye asked if she had ever met a Redwaller before. Silvertongue had said that she and his father robbed an old mouse blind before he was born. Seeing his mother gleefully accept their praise confused him more than he cared to admit.
"Tell me… forgive me Silver but I seem to have forgotten his name." The otter who had let them in said.
"Ripeye." His mother responded as she turned her son to face the otter. "He got it after he killed a fish Crook caught."
"He's quite a fisher then," a dainty mouse said with a smile as she sipped from a small cup. She had the look of a beast who said one thing but thought another. Ripeye didn't like her.
"Yes, he has quite the look of one." The otter said sizing the little weasel up in front of the Redwallers. Ripeye was a bit embarrassed to have his mother bring up that story. It wasn't that he wasn't proud of what he did it was that adults in the horde never saw it as much of an accomplishment as his parents did
"Now tell me Ripeye. What do you think of Sister Lilac? Have you enjoyed having her as head of the nursery?"
Ripeye quickly shook his head no. "She's mean and no fun! Twinetail an' I call her the Queen ov tha Dark because she's the dirtiest, most-vile beast I've ever met."
The ladies in the room burst into laughter. Crooksnout and Ripeye looked between them like they had been tricked.
"I knew it! The old pincushion would scare the daylights out of any beast!" The otter roared.
"Now, now, now." A shrew seated next to his mother said. "She is still a Sister of the Abbey. There's got to be some way we can bring up her attitude with Abbot Micah."
"But Grace, who will he replace her with? Sister Adelina is far too old and Mildred enjoys her freedom more than she enjoys the infirmary." Twiggy's mother said.
"My daughter is the obvious choice." the dainty mouse responded. Her fur was pure white, and she was sewing patches on a blanket that covered her chair and spilled onto the floor. "Schmoopy's been her aide for almost three seasons. She knows everything there is to know about babes and dibbuns alike."
"Has she convinced Sister Beryl or Brother Samuel that she's ready?" an elderly otter asked. "Abbot Micah would ask for their opinions if he deemed it appropriate to replace her."
"I feel Sister Beryl would be in support if we had good reason. However, that Greyfur…" the white mouse shuddered. "He might be opposed to it."
Twiggy's mother clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Samuel spends all his time thinking and not enough time doing. Of course, his brother is the opposite, but you'd think he'd have the stomach to be a little firmer on the dibbuns."
"Why does the mouse have any say?" Silvertongue asked. "He seems like a spineless creature t' me. Locked up in his-his uh…"
"Library." The shrew Grace said without looking up from her knitting.
"Yes, that! With all those… um, what are they again?"
"Books." The shrew added again.
"Yes, those and other things. He doesn't do enough work for his opinion to mattah!"
"Well, he's the dibbuns teacher. He teaches them throughout the year but gets a break come the winter." a red-furred squirrelmaid said.
"He can't teach the babes. They can barely walk." Silvertongue responded.
"Once they get old enough to think on their own, they start with him for a few seasons." Twiggy's mother said as she walked about the room filling every beast's cup with a velvet-colored liquid. Ripeye could taste the sour grape scent as it hit the roof of his mouth. It was the dizzy juice that his parents wouldn't let him drink. He realized that his mother and every one of the Redwallers had a cup full of it. It was strange that the Redwallers would drink the foul-tasting stuff. The only beasts he had seen drink it in such large quantities were the guards he and his friends had run circles around until they were flat on their faces asleep.
"Your two sons would join his class this spring," Grace added.
"No, once the snow melts, we're leaving!" Crooksnout snapped, slapping away the cup Twiggy's mother offered him.
"Well if the Abbot says we can stay-" Silvertongue said, pleading with her mate.
"We're leaving! We don't belong here, and they don't want us here! Don't act like a fool just because they gave you a cup o' wine!" Crooksnout said as he knocked the cup from his mate's paw.
Ripeye jumped back at his father's outburst. His mother's gentle features hardened as a dark frown spread across her face.
"Don't be a sap-sucking fool Crook. Iv they offer us a home we should take it! We're not gonna find anywhere bettah than 'ere."
"This isn't our home it'll never be! Yew know that." His father hissed.
"It's better than anything yew could provide ye useless dribbling dolt! We're here because ye couldn't protect us or feed us when we were in the horde or the woods. An' that won't change 'cause yer arm's as mangled as yer snout!"
Crooksnout's face twisted in rage as he grabbed Rippeyes arm and yanked him from his mother.
"We're leaving Rip! Enjoy yer drink ye daft fools!"
Ripeye couldn't even say goodbye to his mother as he was hauled out of the room.
Crooksnout didn't speak to his son as he pulled him to the library. After the third attempt to get his father to slow his pace, Ripeye kept quiet and focused on not losing his footing. The two didn't speak until Ripeye was firmly seated in a chair surrounded by half a score of precariously stacked books.
"Don't move, and don't touch anything!" Crooksnout ordered.
Ripeye groaned as his father flicked his nose.
"I mean it Rip! I've had enough foolishness from yer mother and those weasels. If you act up, I'll take my belt t' yer hide!"
Ripeye nodded and shut his mouth. His father stepped back pleased with his threat and looked about.
"Now where's that nettle-brained mouse?"
"Ahh hello Crooksnout." Came a voice hidden from behind the stacks of books. "I didn't expect you to be in such a rush. Would you like a bit of elderberry tea? I find that always calms my nerves."
"No." Ripeye's father responded. He could see a hateful gleam in his eyes as the grey-furred mouse rounded the pile of books.
"No? Well about Ripeye then? Would he like some tea?"
Ripeye was surprised to see the mouse wasn't some ancient creature covered in cobwebs and moss. The only beasts that ever drank tea were ancient vermin with no teeth to crack nuts or chew their meat. This mouse looked just a few seasons older than the seer.
"No, he won't have any."
"I want something to drink!" Ripeye said, his father looked as though he would strike his son.
"Splendid!" The odd mouse said as he hurried to put a kettle above the library's fire. "You'll love this. It smells as sweet as a ripe strawberry."
Ripeye watched as the mouse tossed some dried berries and leaves into the kettle. His father eyed the mouse's every move as he flowed about the room like a breeze through the treetops. He started after the mouse but wasn't as smooth around the random stacks of books, bumping them as he passed and causing a few stacks to wobble and almost collapse. The mouse was careful to check on the books he ended up displacing which seemed to pick away at his father's pride bit by bit.
"Now would be a wonderful opportunity to continue your lessons." The mouse said as he grabbed a book from a shelf and arranged it nearly atop a nearby desk. His father has a flash of embarrassment followed by a spark of anger.
"What makes yew think I wanna read? Yew know I'm bad at it."
"The more you read the better you'll become." The grey mouse said without pause. "I've been where you are, and it only got easier the more I did it. Besides this would be a wonderful opportunity to show off your new skill to your son."
"Is it like yer magiks? Wid the cards?" Ripeye asked.
"You know card tricks?" The grey mouse asked with youthful innocence. "That's wonderful!"
Ripeye's father groaned. "Not now ye little mite."
"I'd love to see your tricks," the mouse said as he walked to the vermin with a thin tan book in his paws. "Whenever you're willing to show them of course."
The mouse handed the book to Crooksnout with a friendly smile. A gaudy black drawing of a dangerous-looking weasel graced its cover.
"I think your son would enjoy this story. It's based on a real beast!" The mouse said. "He was a weasel warlord."
"Did he know how to read?" Crooksnout asked.
"I…" the mouse trailed off; his confidence faltered. "I don't actually know. I would think so. He knew all about Salamandastron."
The mouse turned back to the shelves and took a book off it. "He attacked Salamandastron and almost captured it. His story is fascinating."
Ripeye eagerly looked at his father who groaned and opened the book.
"Read the title Crooksnout." The mouse said as he turned to continue his work.
Crooksnout lurched around as if he were going to hurl the book at the mouse. His father muttered a few words beneath his breath before rubbing his throat.
"The… his… his-to-ry… and… li… li-fe… of… Fer-a-go… the… A-sas… as-sass… as-sass-in?"
"Yes! Good job Crooksnout!"
Ripeye snickered at the mouse's praise. His father bristled and muttered a curse before he opened the book to the first page.
"Fer… Fer-a-go… the A… As-sass-in, a na… name… wh… whis… pered… whispered…" Ripeye couldn't help but twitch with discomfort as he watched his father struggle. He could see beads of sweat form on his scrunched brow. He looked more like a shrimp than a weasel as he hunched over the book holding it a paw length from his face.
"Good." The mouse said. "Whispered is a difficult word for someone who hasn't ever seen it before."
Ripeye was surprised by the mouse's ability to understand what his father had just said. His praise didn't stop Crooksnout from continuing.
"with… dr… dread in the… dark… darkest cor-ners of… Moss… Moss-flo… Moss-flo-wer Wood was no or… or-din… or-din-ary beast. Born be-neath the… sp… sp… sprawl-ing… shade of an an… ancient pine, his ear… early… ear-li-est cries min… ming… ming… min-gled with the… howls of win… winter winds."
His father paused and took a shaky breath. "Good work Crooksnout!" The mouse said as he came alongside Ripeye's struggling father.
"Even as a… y… young w… wea-sel, Fer-a-go was… dif-fer… diff-er… dif… d…"
"Different." the mouse stated.
"I knew that!" Crooksnout snapped. "Stop butting in yew mottled squidsucker! Lemme read yer stupid book!"
Crooksnout held the book closer to his face. The mouse leaned over his shoulder, apparently a bit too close.
"Gerrouttah me ear mouse!" Crooksnout shouted, jumping from his seat. "I don't need ye barking orders at me like a vile gull!"
The mouse took a safe step back. "I'm not ordering you about. I'm simply trying to help."
"I don't need yer help!" Crooksnout said as he threw the book into the mouse's face. "I don't need yew t' order me about like a damn slave! Yer nothing but a dirty lettle mouse!"
Before the grey mouse could respond Ripeye's father shouldered into him, knocking the Redwaller to his rear. He barged out of the library knocking over a precarious pile of books as he left.
Ripeye didn't know if he should stay or run after him. The mouse certainly didn't look like he wanted to give chase. He simply called out to tell the furious weasel to return once he calmed down. The mouse appeared to be a meek little creature as he dusted himself off and climbed back to his feet. He wore the same red habit that Ripeye and the rest of the beasts in Redwall Abbey wore and had rounded features garnered from sitting inside and drinking tea all day. Ripeye guessed he was as strict about his library as the Queen of the Dark was about her stupid rules.
"Well, that could've gone better." The mouse laughed as he placed the book on the small end table next to Ripeye. "Your father usually makes it through the first page before he decides he's done. He didn't even finish the first paragraph."
"Is it hard?" Ripeye asked. "Pa made it look like it was harder than fishin' fer pike."
"Ha! I don't think it's harder than fishing. Reading takes time and practice. But with both you need patience." the mouse said as he slid into the pillow-laden chair across from Ripeye. "I haven't gotten the chance to formally introduce myself. I'm Samuel Greyfur, Redwalls historian and head librarian."
Ripeye searched Samuel for any signs of trickery. The mouse didn't look threatening and Ripeye was certain that he could escape or fight the small creature off. He had several books he could throw at the mouse's head if need be.
"You're Beskits, Karic, Twiggy, and Brambles teacher… right?"
"That's correct!" Samuel puffed with pride. "I've been their teacher since the beginning of this season! They've mentioned you and your siblings, and I've heard you all love to play pirates. Is that a game you came up with before you arrived in Redwall?"
Ripeye slowly nodded. "I played wid me friends in the horde."
"That's wonderful! I'm so happy you were able to find new friends here!" Ripeye frowned. The mouse must've noticed his mistake and quickly tried to correct it.
"W-well we've enjoyed having you and your family in Redwall. What's been your favorite thing about the abbey?"
"The food," Ripeye said as he studied the cover of the book his father had failed to read. "What's this book about?" Ripeye asked.
"That book is all that we know of Feragho the Assasin," Samuel said as Ripeye opened it and tried to understand the strange runes drawn on the inside. "He was an infamous warlord who lived scores of generations ago. He and his horde successfully breached Salamandastron and slew Lord Urthstripe, but he was also slain in the process and his horde was destroyed."
"Was he a pirate?" Ripeye asked.
"No, he was a warlord with an abhorrent string of murders and trickery," Samuel said with a subtle note of distaste. "I have books about other pirates if you're interested."
Ripeye nodded eager to get his paws on them.
"Wonderful! I'd be more than happy to show you." Samuel said as he hopped out of his chair. "There's just one thing I'd ask of you. I know much about vermin from beasts who have watched them from afar. We have several books dedicated to stories of travelers who've run into vermin as they traveled about Mossflower Woods. The problem is we don't have any books dedicated to what it's like to live within' a vermin horde. There's even less written about life as a dibbun in these hordes."
The mouse hurried to a large desk. Books, parchments, old candles, wax, and feathers were strewn across it. Samuel brushed the miscellaneous parts aside before disappearing beneath the table. Ripeye got up to see where the mouse had disappeared too. As the weasel approached the table Samuel re-appeared with a book as wide as he was.
"I've been recording what your father has told me about the horde. We've talked about what life was like, what you ate, who was in charge, and the like, but I'm a curious beast Ripeye. I don't think there have ever been any written documents outlining what life is like as a vermin dibbun. The best look we have from an insider to life within a horde by Denya, son of Rillflag. The problem with him was that he was a bit old and never talked fondly of his time with the Juska." Samuel grabbed a feather and dipped the tip into a dark liquid. "You, however, remember horde life like it was last moon because you were in a horde last moon."
"So whaddaya want from me?"
"If I could ask you some questions about what you thought of the horde and let me record your answers it would do wonders for growing our vast collection of knowledge. You'd be in a book yourself and have your words passed down for uncountable seasons! Doesn't that sound wonderful?"
Ripeye eyed the mouse oddly as he waited for a response. "If I help ye, will you tell me more about pirates?"
Samuel opened his arms and gestured to the room about them with a smile. "You have all the knowledge, stories, and wisdom Redwall has to offer. I'd love to answer any question about pirates you have!"
"Who was the best pirate ever?"
"Hmm, that depends on who you ask. Some might say it was Ublaz Mad Eyes. He held control over the island of Samptera and had a horde of lizards at his command along with a fleet of ships. Having never needed to set sail to crush his foes. Others would say it was Cluny the Scourge or Gabool the Wild, both ferocious sea rats with a taste for blood and command over their hordes like very few others. I would say the Pure Ferrets of Riftguard were probably the worst as they tormented the seas for three generations and struck fear into the hearts of all good beasts."
Ripeye and Samuel had been playing their guessing game for several minutes. Ripeye would ask questions about pirates or other vermin warlords Samuel would answer before asking several of his own. Ripeye had lost track of the time as Samuel regaled him about tales of murder and mischief on the high seas.
"Well which one was the best wiv 'is sword?"
"Cluny the Scourge most likely. He became more renowned as a warlord than a Corsair, but he tried to take Redwall seasons ago."
"Did he?" Ripeye asked with more enthusiasm than Samuel looked like he expected.
"He came close but thankfully he didn't." Samuel chuckled. "I'm not sure that even the badgerlord would've been able to take the Abbey from his clutches if he had succeeded."
"Awww." Ripeye bemoaned. "Mebbe I could've been born here, and we'd have all this food."
"Did you not have food in the horde?" Samuel asked with a concerned frown.
"Sometimes we didn't. But it didn't matter because Twinetail and I'd steal from the guards when they weren't looking."
"Did they ever catch you?" Samuel asked as he scribbled what the weasel said into the book.
"I was caught once by this big ugly rat called Kraven. He caught Twine an' me whipped us wiv his belt. When dad found out he and Seabane went t' cut his throat!"
Samuel looked up at the small weasel who was smiling as he told the story. "That sounds terrible!"
"Nuh unh! Kraven and dad got inta a fight. Seabane said that dad beat Kraven so badly that his kits would come out behaving!" The little weasel burst into laughter. Samuel slowly nodded as he made note of everything.
"That doesn't sound very pleasant. I'm happy t' see you're all in one piece."
"Naw I wasn't scared," Ripeye said as he leaned back comfortably in his chair. "Twinetail cried like a baby, but I cursed him and 'is mother the whole time! Mum said I was her cunning and sharp-tongued warlord."
"What do ya think of Redwall and all the vittles we have here?" Samuel asked with a kind smile.
"The vikkles are so good! Bettah than any of the slop that the horde offered." Ripeye said with a wrinkling of his nose. "I remember having t' pick maggots out o' the bread they gave us. You woodlanders kin make good vikkles with no maggots or mold. When I become a warlord, I'm gonna make my cook a woodlander and force him to make me all the good food!"
Samuel laughed. "That's high praise to be sure. Have you ever seen any battle?"
"No," Ripeye responded with a rather glum expression. "Mum says I'm too young to go inta' battle. I said she's scared and that I'm not. I'm not scared of no beast! Be it a rat or a badger I'm gonna beat 'im all the same!"
Ripeye's triumphant call to arms was interrupted by the whistling of the kettle. Samuel rose and walked to the fire before pouring himself and Ripeye cups of the sweetly smelling liquid.
"Be careful now little warrior, it's a bit hot even for the bravest tongue," Samuel warned. Ripeye took the cup without saying thanks.
"Have you ever seen a vermin warlord before? I bet you haven't because you've spent your whole life in here." The weasel asked as he took a hesitant sip.
Samuel laughed as he returned to his seat. "No, I haven't. But I've met the leaders of vermin gangs. They weren't very friendly beasts."
"How big were their hordes?"
"Not big at all, I think only one of them was close to a score in strength. I doubt you would've heard of them either. I met most of them before you could walk."
"Did you fight'em? Or did yew get robbed?" Ripeye asked as he leaned back and forth excited to hear the juicy details Samuel had chosen to forget.
"Well, we tried to ask them to leave us alone. They didn't and intended to rob us so we did what we could to make sure we didn't get hurt. Thankfully Eli and Dane were with us, so I didn't have any reason to worry."
"You were with Eli?" Ripeyes eyes widened. "Beskit said he asked Eli to go on adventures in Mossflower with 'im and he said no. How'd'ja make him go wif yew?"
"Eli's my brother." Samuel smiled as he leaned back in his chair. "We wanted to go on adventures together since we were your age. He held the sword, I held the map, and Esther led the way. Dane Surebrook is the Skipper of otters of a nearby holt and Brin Brushtail is helping on the infirmary with Sathe. They were both our friends in the nursery and they came along with us."
"Have you ever slain a beast?"
Samuel paused not expecting the question to come, or at least come so early into their conversation. The weasel wore an expression of eager curiosity.
"Yes. We were ambushed and I had an instant to react. It's not something I'm quite proud of."
"Was it fun? Did he cry or beg for mercy or just fall over and die?" Ripeye asked to Samuel's horror.
"He just… died," Samuel responded before hardening his tone. "Slaying beasts is never pleasant even if you are defending yourself. I hope you are never forced to fight for your life."
Ripeye's eager light in his eyes dimmed as he frowned. "Why not? Fighting is fun an' if you're not good at fighting then yer gonna die. How else are you gonna get vikkles an' gold an' have a horde or a ship t' order about?"
"Ye can have all of that without hurting beasts. What good is all the gold in Mossflower if you couldn't trust your friends not to steal it? What if you had to worry about your vikkles being poisoned every meal? It would be miserable!"
"I'm miserable because I don't have any gold!" Ripeye snapped. What part of gold didn't this woodlander understand? There's nothing better than it, except for maybe a warm drink on a cold day. But you could always trade gold for that drink. No beast would turn down such an offer unless they were mad… or had more than enough gold to spare. "You only say that gold is bad because you have all of it. That's what all of you lying woodlanders say!"
"I don't have any gold because I don't have any need for it. My library is worth more than all the gold in Mossflower." The mouse responded.
"Liar!" Ripeye shouted as he jumped onto the chair. "You're hiding gold like all woodlanders do! That's why you hide behind your walls like cowards!"
"Ripeye," Samuel said with a sigh. "How many warlords and pirates do you think end up getting what they wanted?"
"All of them," Ripeye said placing his paws on his hips.
"None of them did. They were all slain before they ever came close to their goals. The only beasts that achieved what they set out to do were woodlanders who cared more about being good than searching for gold."
"That's not true! More vermin found treasure and slew woodlanders than you know. Beasts tell stories about them around the fire every night in the horde. Your books are wrong!"
"Do you remember any?" Samuel asked as he leaned forward and grabbed his quill. "I could be wrong, and I'd like to know if I am."
"Of course, yer wrong yer a dumb mouse!" Ripeye exclaimed. "There was my grandpa! He was a pirate and he was looking for gold before a badger broke his leg!"
"Did he ever end up finding any gold?"
"He… Dad said…" Ripeye flustered, his face turning red as he thought through his family history. "Well, I never met him, but he probably had more gold than you could imagine!"
"Why didn't he share any with you?"
"Because dad said he was stupid. One day he got so drunk he didn't remember where he put it."
"So did he end up with any gold?" Samuel asked. "Did you or your parents ever see it?"
Ripeye opened his mouth and then closed it. His eyes narrowed towards Samuel.
"You don't sound like you like vermin." Ripeye snarled.
"I don't like bad beasts," The mouse said, raising his voice. "And I don't like violence. Feragho was a vile murderer whose desire for gold was responsible for the deaths of scores of woodlanders and vermin including himself and his son. He's a beast who shouldn't be praised but seen as a warning."
"Feragho's a hero!" Ripeye shouted. "He slew a badger! That badger would've turned me inta' weasel stew if Feragho didn't stop him first!"
"Lord Urthstripe wouldn't have hurt you. He had a meal with Feragho's son as a thank you for returning his daughter." Samuel reasoned. "Feragho and Klitch betrayed his trust. They attacked and murdered Urthstripes mother and father after offering them a parlay. He was a lying, evil, villain. Someone no good beast should ever look up to."
"Well, do you think I'm a bad beast?" Ripeye asked. "Yer ghostie does."
"My ghost?" Samuel asked. "Martin?"
"Yeah, that one!" Ripeye snapped. "He's the one who attacked me and Twiggy an' Beskit!"
"Martin wouldn't attack dibbuns."
"But he attacked me! Your ghost thinks I'm bad! I've got the scar to prove it!" Ripeye turned around and lifted his shirt. A tender pink scar stretched from just under his shoulder blade across the width of his back.
"Ripeye," Samuel said as he rubbed his face. "You're not a bad beast and the ghost isn't Martin, it's some rotten scum living within our walls. But it scares me to see that you want to be a warlord or a pirate. Everybeast that has done that has died a rotten death and I don't want to see that happen to you."
"Liar! I'm not gonna die! Yew wanna steal me family's gold! That why you're tryin' t' get me t' stop bein' a warlord!" The weasel grabbed a book from the desk and bolted off. "You'd turn me inta' weasel stew if ye could!"
"Ripeye wait! Come back!" Samuel shouted as he jumped from his chair. "I'm not trying to be mean!"
"Shuddup! Iv ye want yer gold back yer gonna hav' t' fight for it mousie!" Ripeye bolted from the library cackling like a true warlord.
Another fun Ripeye chapter! I hope you enjoyed it as well!
As always please let me know what you think and what can be improved upon. Any and all feedback is appreciated!