A/N: Thank you for your reviews once again. I'm glad that people like this story so far. Please continue to read and review. I appreciate every word.

CHECKING IN

If one were to climb aboard the Dusk Chaser at this point in time, they would first encounter an enormous puddle of water by the bulwark on the port side, followed by three sets of pawprints – one a hare's, the other two of mice – leading to the foot of the main mast.

Despite being given towels, with which they had wrapped themselves snugly, the three beasts sitting at the base of the mast remained far more wet than they found comfortable, and it showed from the growing miniature lake seeping out onto the deck around them. Matthias' fur spiked wildly in all different directions, roughed up by the ocean; Cornflower's headscarf dripped with sea water and stuck to her face in inconvenient places, her whiskers twitching; and Basil's ears hung limp, his nose scrunching up as he sniffed. All three looked straight ahead, glowering.

The hares of the Long Patrol practically tiptoed around them as they went about their business, saying nothing, aside from a quiet apology from Corporal Cornelius for his knocking Cornflower into the water. A quiet acknowledgement was all that was needed, and he went on his way. Severely unimpressed with recent events, the trio returned to scowling in silence at nothing in particular for quite some time.

Eventually – and almost simultaneously – Matthias and Cornflower slowly looked up at the hare sitting between them, their faces glum and tired, and simply stared. Basil looked back at them, and huffed, folding his arms.

"Is a hare's pride really that unimportant to you two?"

"Is our entering this country on good terms so unimportant to you, Basil?" Matthias asked icily.

"I simply wanted correct referral from the outset," Basil asserted. "We want Rothlin to know that we mean business, and why not make that clear by showing that we won't back down and allow mistakes?"

Cornflower rolled her eyes. "It was not your place to do or say anything. I'm meant to be the negotiator, remember?"

"Meant to be. You couldn't negotiate that blasted bird into calling me what I am," Basil muttered, staring straight ahead with eyes narrowed. "I wonder if your famed kindness is a liability here."

"What?!"

"Cornflower was doing the right thing, Basil!" Matthias exclaimed. "For something as small as that, it wasn't worth having us take an impromptu dip in the ocean. What was the worst that could have happened? Kreyva gets it wrong, flies off and arranges us our accommodation, and it gets corrected when we actually meet Rothlin. Instead, this happened. And if we ever begin talking about more... important things... what precedent is this going to set?"

Basil did not answer.

"I don't much appreciate you suggesting that my idea of negotiation is weak," Cornflower said, her own arms folded in indignation. "I'm well aware that not everything is candied chestnuts and October ale, but like Matthias said – taking such a hard stance needs to be worth it. Sometimes compromising is the best option, Basil. This was one of those times. We can only hope that relations aren't soured with Rothlin already. All you've ended up doing is make mine and Matthias' jobs more difficult, you silly hare."

A few long minutes passed, with only the sounds of the sea and the footsteps of the Long Patrol to break the silence of the Redwallers. Matthias stared down at the deck, Basil continued gazing into the distance straight ahead, and Cornflower looked off to the side. Finally, the hare slumped and sighed wearily.

"I'm sorry, Cornflower," Basil said. "I know better than to say such things to you. And I'm sorry for my big mouth. Whatever consequences we may face, I will take full responsibility, wot."

Cornflower turned to him, her expression softening. Eventually, she sighed herself and weakly smiled.

"It's fine," she replied. "I'm sorry for calling you silly."

"I think we all need to get off this ship," Matthias said. "Hopefully we'll be able to do that soon without getting wet in the process."

The trio chuckled with wry smiles as they shifted in place. They gazed to the front of the ship, seeing Hesperfell growing ever closer.

"You understand my position though, yes?" Basil asked.

Matthias and Cornflower replied hesitantly.

"Maybe."

"A little."

Thankfully dry, the mice stood at the prow of the Dusk Chaser as they had earlier that day, arms around each other as they took in the city that lay before them. As they drew ever closer, a slight chill in the wind, they picked out details of Hesperfell's capital that were not seen as well from afar.

Eastreach was beyond anything they had ever seen in terms of size. Large wooden docks lined a portion of the coastline, where sailing ships of all shapes and sizes were stationed. Behind the bustling port, there sat numerous buildings of stone and wood, some with smoke wafting thinly from their chimneys amongst the heat haze of barely-visible glowing furnaces. Further back, more huge buildings, approaching and exceeding the height of Redwall Abbey's bell tower, separated from each other by narrow cobblestone streets. There were scores of them, all clustered together in a jagged skyline of squares and rectangles. The stone, wood and clay mortar binding all the walls together gave off shades of muted and muddy brown and grey.

To the sides of the central cluster of large buildings lay swathes of shantytown dwellings, built from wooden planks – cobbled-together walls looking as though they would soon snap and collapse, even under something as light as the flat plank roofs that sheltered the beasts inside. These, too, had chimneys, but they were thinner, and the smoke that came out of them was decidedly less clean than that coming out of the dock furnaces.

And close behind everything, slightly off to the right and on top of a hill, there lay a gigantic, imposing structure that was somewhere between a castle and a mansion. What could only be assumed to be Rothlin's Palace was built out of enormous grey stone slabs, chipped from ages of wear. Even from the harbour, Matthias and Cornflower could see that there were copious amounts of dirt and grime in between the stones, the stains of weather past casting a green-brown tint over the whole palace.

"It's funny," Cornflower remarked, "I feel as though I should be saying something like 'It's beautiful.' But it really isn't."

Frowning, Matthias added, "It's a striking place, if not particularly colourful."

"Ugly as a toad in a swamp," Basil clunkily interjected as he stepped up behind the mouse couple. "But a damn sight colder. Hopefully that is no reflection on the citizens, whoever they may be."

"You're right, it is getting rather cold," Matthias said, letting go of Cornflower and turning around to face Basil. "I wonder how far north we are?"

Basil looked to the skies. "Far enough north that the sun is quite low in the sky for it to be just past midday."

"Midday? Is that all?" Cornflower sighed. "My word, I'm tired. It'll be nice to get back on dry land again."

Matthias took her paw and began leading her amidships as Basil followed – both the Dusk Chaser and the Rimaris drawing ever closer to the docks. "Well, we'll be able to check in to an inn shortly. Then, we can take a break from the world for a while," he reassured his wife. "Today has been eventful enough... nothing worse could possibly happen."

Cornflower glanced at him with a wry smile. "I fear, now that you've said such a thing, something worse is exactly what will happen."

A short time later, both ships had manoeuvred their way into free berths at the docks. It took longer for the Dusk Chaser to get itself moored than the Rimaris, on account of the beasts at the mooring points being preoccupied with staring at its occupants. A shout from Greytail managed to rouse the dock hands from their stupor, and shortly the Mossflower ship was moored. The Dusk Chaser's side hatch opened, the wooden door falling to the dock with a loud thunk.

Straps criss-crossed the bodies of Matthias, Cornflower and Basil – their travelling bags and satchels containing various supplies and belongings hanging from them rather cumbersomely. Stepping out from the bowels of the ship, the fact that they were setting foot on a new land for the first time was not quite at the forefront of their minds. Instead, they silently pondered whether they should have packed lighter.

Greytail met them outside, as the Long Patrol hares went about the business of packing their own bags. "Welcome to Hesperfell, Mossflower beasts," he said, gesturing with both arms toward the immense city.

Matthias hobbled to a halt, shrugging off the straps of his largest bags. "The pleasure is all ours. Goodness me, I've never seen so many ver- ...beasts in one place before. We're from a place that's rather more spread out than this. I... I can actually hear the buzz of all their voices, like it's dinner time in the great hall! Is it like this all the time?"

"Indeed it is, mouse warrior," Greytail replied. "I became a seafarin' beast largely to get away from all that. Eastreach can get pretty noisy."

"Everything's so... big," Cornflower remarked, placing her own large bags on the ground. "We've been thrown right into the thick of it, haven't we? There's so much to take in. I had no idea it was even possible to build something that huge from the ground up," she murmured in awe, pointing toward the tall buildings in the city centre.

Basil followed the lead of the mice, releasing his bags from his grasp. "Quite. Those dockside furnaces are bally curious, wot? Redwall Abbey's ovens have nothing on those leviathans – even the forge at Salamandastron isn't quite as large. What could one possibly need a fire that immense for, I wonder... let alone that many?"

"Mmm, interestin' you mention that, actually," Greytail replied. Apparently they're meant to-"

"Oy!" a voice came from afar.

All turned to the nearby cobblestone street running along the docks, to see a muscular weasel heading their way, pulling an open-top two-wheeled cart behind him.

As he drew near, the weasel shot a pointed glance at the Dusk Chaser, before gruffly asking, "Cap'n Greytail of the Rimaris? Foreign envoy in tow?"

"Who's askin'?" Greytail asked back, narrowing one eye in suspicion.

Having reached them, the weasel stopped and let go of the handles he was pulling the cart by, the front of the wheeled contraption clunking to the ground. Paws on hips, he replied, "The same featherbag what done let you in, matey. I'm here to pick 'em up and take 'em where she said to. Of all the cart-pullers on the job today, it had to be me, didn't it, Greytail?"

Greytail folded his arms and regarded the weasel with familiarity, but ever-so-faint contempt. "Don't let me stop ye from jumpin' for joy. Where would you be takin' 'em, exactly?"

"Miro's, back home in the Cauldron Quarter."

Greytail gawked at the weasel's answer and threw his arms wide. "What?! You can't be serious! These beasts are the ambassadors of a foreign nation!"

"Uh – erm," Cornflower interrupted quietly, "We're not... really a... a nation..."

She trailed off as both Greytail and the weasel turned their heads and stared at her. The mousewife glanced between them and eventually held her paws up in deference. "But... carry on."

"Why are you takin' 'em there, to that part o'town?" Greytail asked, looking back at the weasel. "There's plenty better places for them, even as a stop gap until Chancellor Rothlin returns."

The weasel folded his own arms in response. "Them's the orders I've been given, straight from that messenger bird's beak. An' she speaks for the Chancellor without question, which you'd know better'n any of us landcrawlers... Mister Special Explorer," he said, ending his statement with a subtle sneer. He leaned forward with a piercing gaze. "An' don't think your shame at bein' from old Cauldron slipped by me. Gotta say, I had my doubts – well, actually, we all did, all those you left behind when you decided to go clean Rothlin's rear for a livin' – but hey! It looks like you went and done somethin' real important now. Sailed halfway to Hellgates an' brought back some more bloody-"

"You shut your damned mouth, Marv. Do not speak like that 'round these beasts," Greytail hissed, as he narrowed his beady eyes and frowned at the weasel. The mice could tell that a nerve had been hit, somewhere – and they had an inkling of an idea what it was. The rat shook his head and turned to them once again, shrugging in resignation.

"All I can say is, I'm sorry," he said. "It's set in stone. You'll be right, you will. It's not that bad. 'Least, that's how I remember it, an' I've been away from here for a while..."

It was Greytail's turn to trail off, as the Redwallers stared blankly at him. He glanced at the weasel, Marv, once more – with eyes that could set kindling alight – before saying his goodbyes.

"Myself and me crew will meet you again at the palace when the time comes. Stay safe. I feel bad havin' to tell ye that, but... stay safe." And with that, he turned around and strode away, returning to his ship to assist with unloading.

"Goodbye, Greytail," Matthias called, his voice faltering. "See you... soon..."

After a moment watching the rat's departure, the mice and the hare turned to Marv, and he to them. The weasel only made brief eye contact before moving to pick up the largest bags.

"Well, let's get going, then," he sighed, beginning to load the front of the cart. Basil, who had watched the entire exchange with intrigue, lifted Matthias and Cornflower into the rear, where a bench seat was located. Seeing to it that his mouse friends were secure, the hare suddenly realised that the cart was a little too small to fit all three of them – and as Marv hefted the last of the mice's bags into the cart, it occurred to Basil that his own bags had been left on the ground.

"Erm, I say, chap," Basil started, "What about this old officer and his luggage, wot?"

Marv paused, looking from the cart, to Basil, and to the hare's luggage. "Eh, sorry big-ears. The bird only told me to pick up two mice. There ain't no space for you."

"What?" Matthias exclaimed from the bench seat. "How can that be? Basil is meant to be with us at all times! He's our bodyguard – th-there must have been a mistake-"

"Nah, no mistake here, mouse," Marv interrupted. "Two mice, no mention of a hare. That was the order."

As Basil's jaw dropped in shock, Cornflower spoke up, gesturing towards the Dusk Chaser. "Not just one hare – we've got an entire boatload of them in the dock behind you! Surely they have transport and accommodation too?"

Marv glanced over at the ship, then turned back to Cornflower, shrugging. "I dunno, they might have. But I heard none of it. Ain't my problem, I'm just doin' the job asked of me, which again, is gettin' two mice to Miro's Inn. And we're runnin' out of time to do that before my lunch break, so we'd better get movin' now."

"No, wait!" Cornflower pleaded, clambering over the pile of luggage and leaning over the front of the cart. "Please – Marv, was it? – Marv... Is there no way Basil can come with us? He's extremely important."

She put on a hopeful expression in the hopes of swaying the weasel, but was instead met with an unflinching stare. "Are you paying me?" he asked.

Cornflower blinked. "No..."

"Can you pay me?"

The mousewife craned her neck to look back at Matthias. No answer came from him, other than spreading his paws in frustration. Cornflower, her face falling, looked back at the weasel. "N-no..."

Marv looked to the skies, then turned around, gripping the cart's handles and lifting its front off the ground. "Then there's nothin' I can do but get you to your destination. Sun's startin' to drop and I'm hungry. Away we go!"

Not wasting another moment, he powered forward, quickly pulling the laden cart along at the pace of a brisk stroll, and gaining speed still. Cornflower, who was still perched atop the baggage, was thrown back and became sprawled over her husband with the cart's forward lurching. Amongst the protesting of the mice, Basil began jogging after the cart, dodging beasts walking in the street and making his displeasure known:

"You blighter, get back here! I demand that you let Basil Stag Hare onto your cart. I am the protector of those bally mice!" Marv ignored him, the cart starting to gain even more speed, but Basil continued his ranting. "You are causing diplomatic difficulties, I hope you are aware. Stop! Stop at once... st... stop..." The aging officer coasted to a stop and nearly doubled over, panting, as he ran out of breath. There was a period not long ago when he could still have given chase easily – but unfortunately, time waits for no hare.

A winded Matthias, with some effort, untangled himself from the heap that was his wife, and leaned out the back of the cart to call to Basil, gasping for air. "We'll resolve this, my friend! Get back to the ship and your bags. Greytail knows where we're going. He'll sort it out!"

Basil let out one last breathless cry of "Codswallop!" as the cart drew further away, and was swallowed up by the throngs of the citizens of Eastreach.

With a whump, the final bag landed on the cobblestone. Marv gave a single, curt nod to Matthias and Cornflower, who stood on the side of the busy street before him.

"Pleasure doin' business," he said, before strolling in the direction of a nearby food stall, leaving his cart for the time being. In amongst the many tens of beasts walking up and down the street, the mice watched him amble up to the smoking and steaming stall, where he produced a few coins from a pouch and motioned toward two skewered fish cooking over a fire. The cat behind the stall obliged the weasel's request, taking the coins and handing him the fish.

As Marv leaned against the nearest wall and dug in to his meal, the Redwall couple left any thought of him behind to take in their location. This was a far cry from the quiet and vibrant woodlands and open meadows of Mossflower Country – here, what little space that existed was dominated by imposing vertical walls, on which doors and windows competed for territory. And the buzz of insects and chirping of distant birds was replaced by the drone of a thousand collective voices talking at the same time, and the constant tap-tap-pitter-patter of twice as many footpaws; what all amounted to a distant roar that seemed, at the same time, close and blanketing. Matthias and Cornflower gazed further and further upwards, noticing the very tops of the three- or four-floor buildings finally giving way to the light blue sky, but allowing it only a small reach; just enough to let some light on to the ground at their footpaws. The street stretched in opposing directions, every shop face and stall different as far as they could see. Creatures moved in rivers, stopping only to see the wares of shop owners or to peruse displayed food. Some carried sacks and bags, either slung low from their paws or hoisted over their shoulders; some pushed and pulled carts and wheelbarrows; others walked along while chatting to a beast beside them; but all looked like they had somewhere to be – somebeast to see.

And just above head height of the tallest of them, signs hung denoting the purpose of every establishment. Interestingly, in addition to crude carved images depicting what each business offered, the accompanying words were written in a script Matthias and Cornflower could recognise. One read Vera's Jewellery, another read Dagger and Sword Restorations, yet another read Bayleth's Grub and Grog. It was apparent that the vermin – for lack of a better definite term – that inhabited Eastreach were not of the same ilk as the often illiterate barbarians that occasionally roamed the mice's homeland. It was, in a strange way, even more unsettling to the couple than if it was not so.

The sign most relevant to them, however, was the one they turned around to see. Above a large set of windowed double doors, a sign sat that read:

MIRO'S INN

FOOD, DRINK, BEDS – ANY DAY OR NIGHT – CHEAPEST RATES IN EASTREACH

BOOKINGS AVAILABLE

They turned to each other and shared an uneasy, but reassuring smile.

"I suppose this is the place," Matthias said. They set about picking up their luggage, and with a deep breath, stepped through the doors.

Matthias and Cornflower entered the inn, bags in paws, the lobby buzzing with activity. The idle chatter, spirited conversation and rough shouts of scores of beasts melted together in a wall of sound.

But the moment the two mice stepped through the door, the entire room – packed full of vermin from wall to wall – went dead silent. Every head turned to face them. Every eye, save for those with patches over them, leered in their direction.

The couple stood stock still, eyes shifting around to take in their surroundings. They attempted avoiding eye contact; for the most part, failing. Many of the vermin were sat at tables, nursing tankards of heady beverages; some held tatters of half-eaten meat in their claws; and others were leaning, arms folded, against the dirtied wooden walls and pillars that held up an even dirtier ceiling. A bar could be seen on the opposite side of the room, tended by a stocky rat.

As the eyes of a few occupants narrowed, Cornflower noticed Matthias' free paw straying towards the handle of his sword instinctively. She swallowed, and opened her mouth to reassure her husband, when they both jumped at a voice coming from the desk in the far corner. A deep, rough murmur with no inflection.

"You, mice. What's your business?"

Their eyes snapped to the desk to see a fat ferret sitting behind it. Without a word, Matthias and Cornflower took another deep breath and strode over to the desk, taking care to avoid any of their bags bumping into the vermin seated at the tables. Cornflower kept her head down, but took aside glances at the seated creatures. All manner of them were there – stoats, rats, foxes, ferrets, weasels, cats. All the ones the mousewife could see were looking at she and Matthias intently.

They reached the desk, and Matthias spoke for them. Albeit, with a wheeze at first, on account of a dry throat.

"We're, uh – ahem," He began falteringly, clearing his throat to regain his full voice. "We're here for a room for the night? Booked in advance."

The ferret behind the desk stared at them, emotionless. His eyes were glazed over and distant, his jaw a little slack. It took him a few seconds to respond to Matthias' query.

"Names," he stated bluntly. Matthias and Cornflower blinked, before realising that he was phrasing the statement as a request.

"Erm," Matthias started, "I – I am Matthias, warrior of Redwall in Mossflower Country." He managed to put on an air of confidence that he hoped was convincing, but inside, he felt less than sure of himself in this new and strange environment. He was still mistrustful of the creatures around he and Cornflower - creatures who, back home, would have wasted no time attempting to steal from, capture, maim, or kill them. Even after spending a long trans-oceanic voyage with some of them, he was still having trouble adjusting to the fact that he was not having to immediately defend himself from any of the vermin here. "This is my wife, Cornflower," he continued after a pause, nodding towards her.

"Hello," Cornflower said quietly, with a small smile, using her free paw to perform a one-sided curtsy. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a female fox recoiling in mild disgust at her action. The mousewife's smile quickly vanished.

Another pause, as the ferret blinked slowly, and turned to what appeared to be a booking ledger. As the awkward silence - occasionally permeated by mutterings of "Mossflower?" and "Foreign mice?" in the background - threatened to suffocate Matthias and Cornflower, the ferret leafed through the pages, eventually stopping at one and examining it. His eyes shifted from the page, to them, and back to the page, about three times. Matthias' face hardened as the ferret sized them up.

Eventually, the ferret stood up, the same aloof expression on his flabby face. He was looking at them, but Cornflower felt as if he was almost staring right through them.

"Guests of Chancellor Rothlin," the ferret drawled in his deep voice, loud enough to be heard by all in the room - a small gasp coming from the other guests. "Holed up here 'till he gets back from his business, ay? Room's upstairs," he continued. "Follow me."

Matthias and Cornflower silently did so, the ferret leading them through another doorway and up a flight of rickety stairs. As they exited the bar space, they heard the chatter gradually return.

Down the upstairs halls they crept, looking around nervously as the large ferret seemed to lumber along in slow motion ahead. Both mice had stable and mature heads on their shoulders, but as they briefly met each other's gaze, they wordlessly shared the mutual feeling of disorientation with their new, strange surroundings. A flash of a smile between them did little to settle their unease.

They got a small shock as they both bumped into the ferret, who had come to a stop during their brief disconnection from reality. He looked down at them, as stone-faced as ever, before opening the door he had stood in front of.

Matthias and Cornflower stepped through, and looked over what would be their home for the next day or so. It was bare and austere, but functioned well enough as a place to sleep. A hay-lined double bed, laying on a wooden frame with spindly legs, took up much of the right wall. A small table either side, with a lone candle each for bedside light. On the left wall, there hung a reflective plate of metal - a mirror. It hung above a larger, rectangular table with no adornments. Directly opposite to the entry to the room, there were windows, and a simple door leading out onto a balcony.

"Room," the ferret grunted. "Double bed, with a view. Of the buildin' across from the inn, that is. Pull the string for room service. Make yourself comfortable - or don't. Your choice." Then, he left the warrior and the fieldmouse alone.

The two mice ignored his final statements as the door shut behind them. They stood beside each other for a few moments, gazing at the bed. It was the first time in days that they had seen a place to sleep that wasn't a hammock in a cramped cabin, and it was also the first time in days that they had really stood still. They both felt their eyelids blissfully drooping at the thought of resting on dry land again.

They unceremoniously let go of their bags, the sacks and pouches thumping on the floor. Unpacking could wait.

They looked at each other again. Cornflower remarked, "You look so tired all of a sudden, my love."

"So do you," Matthias replied, unhitching the sword of Martin from around his waist. "I suppose a voyage's worth of travelling with disturbed sleep will do that to a couple of mice."

Cornflower exhaled, releasing tension in her muscles that she hadn't realised was there until that moment. "We've got the remainder of today free. Basil will catch up soon, I'm sure. Let's rest, Matthias," she said, wearily rubbing the back of her head.

Matthias yawned in response. "That sounds like a good plan."

They stumbled towards the bed, kicking off their sandals and shrugging off the smaller bags and pouches that had been hanging around their shoulders - but Matthias kept the sheathed sword in his paw. The ingrained habits of a warrior were ones that died hard, even in the face of fatigue.

Placing the sword on the floor, on his side of the mattress, he clambered onto the raggedy bedsheet and met his wife in the middle. As they smoothly assumed their usual position - Matthias on his back, and Cornflower snuggled up to him with her head on his chest and her arm hooked around his shoulder - the couple began drifting off almost instantly, giving little thought to the comparative roughness of the hay stuffing their mattress. They hadn't even bothered changing out of their regular clothes.

They had only just settled into a peaceful sleep when the bed frame's legs splintered and the entire bed collapsed onto the floor.

They both woke with a start, yelping in surprise. They blearily looked around, and noticed they were much closer to the floorboards than they were before. As the dust kicked up by the collapse settled, they stared at each other yet again, eyelids already sinking back down. They both sighed, shook their heads at each other and flopped back down onto the mattress, falling back asleep instantly.