Cold and Dark Chp12

Chapter 12

The sun had set. Snow was beginning to fall. Tired dibbuns were put to bed by the yawning Brothers and Sisters of the abbey. Father Abbot wished them all a good night as he went to nestle down in his own warm cot. The moles were soon snoring, the hedgehogs curled up into spiky balls, and squirrels wrapped their brushes about themselves.

Sister Grace, clad in nightgown and nightcap, settled down in the bed in her office after doing a last-minute check-up on her patient, and, one blown-out candle later, was asleep like everybeast else in Redwall.

Everybeast except two.

Friar Tumble, the squirrel friar, was still up, fussily seeing to all the left-overs and still-baking foods. There were times when even he was stunned at how much food could be produced at the abbey. Sometimes Tumble worried that all the cakes, pies, breads, puddings, crumbles, soups, stews, casseroles, flans and tarts that he so painstakingly made every day would go to waste. Granted, he never saw any of those things go to waste, though he suspected that his kitchen-helpers made certain that he never did.

For this reason, Friar Tumble encouraged the abbeybeasts to snack in between meals, just so none of his creations would ever go bad and be thrown out (one of his biggest fears). Which was why he was quite pleased when he realized that there was another beast inside his kitchen.

The squirrel could tell there was somebeast else in the room, he could feel a pair of eyes watching him intently. Whipping his head around, he caught sight of a brown, whiskery face disappear from around the doorway.

"I know you're there," the friar called out cheerfully. "Come on out, there's no need to hide. If you want something to eat, by all means, come in!"

For a moment, nobeast came. Then the big, brawny form of Skipper Rorac came tentatively into the kitchen.

Friar Tumble laughed. "Why, Skipper of otters! I never expected you to be acting like a naughty dibbun caught in the act! Come on in, I'll fix you something up. Something nice and tasty. I believe we have some maple scones left over..."

"Aye, thankee, Friar," Skipper replied as he settled down at a table, a smile forming on his handsome face.

"Now let's see," the fat squirrel said, rummaging around the shelves and larders. "There are some apple tarts right here, along with some powdered cakes. Oh, and here's some maple-iced pie! Its preserved plum and apple, all covered in maple frosting. I'll cut you an extra big slice!"

The big otter chuckled as the friar laid out food after food after food before him. "Heh heh, with the way yer pilin' up here, Friar, I'd have a great big ring o' fat around my middle!"

Tumble grinned. "Aye, and if it was I who made you fat, every male in this abbey would be grateful to me to their dying days!"

Skipper raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Haha, you don't see it, do you? Males look at you and despair, because they know that the female they fancy would prefer you over them any day!"

Skipper rocked with laughter. "Hahahahahahahahaaharr! What a joker y'are, Tumble. Ah, never mind. Er, would you mind if I didn't eat this all right away?" he added, gesturing at the small feast the friar was laying out.

It was time for Tumble's eyebrows to go upwards. "Oh?"

"I was hoping to get back up to the infirmary soon, just in case Miru wakes up."

"Ahh," the squirrel nodded, smiling. "I see. Well, in that case, go right ahead. Would you like some help carrying this up?"

"No thanks, Friar. Um, would you mind if I had just a little bit more? Just in case Miru gets hungry too?"

Tumble's eyebrows went upwards again. Miru? Hungry? From what he heard, the pine marten had the appetite of a fly! He had only seen Miru once when he, along with all the other Redwallers, snuck a glance when the marten first came to the abbey, and the young thing looked like he barely ate anything.

Nevertheless, after looking a moment longer at Skipper's sincere smile, the chubby squirrel smiled widely. "Absolutely, Skip. Take all you need!"

After all, there was nothing Friar Tumble liked more than somebeast eating his food.

Skipper Rorac watched as the yawning squirrel made his out of the kitchen. "Good night, Skip. Thank you for promising to turn out all the lights. Enjoy those snacks."

"Good night. And thank you."


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As soon as the friar disappeared through the doorway, the otter eased out of his chair and stepped softly over to the door, peeking around the corner. He watched Tumble head down the hall and up the stairs, the light from his candle fading slowly away.

As soon as all was dark and quiet again, Skipper turned back to the kitchen and went to work, snatching up a large satchel and placing it on the table. He began filling it with all the food the friar had given him, making certain all was carefully wrapped. The bag was filled halfway when the otter finished. Remembering Tumble telling him to "help himself," Skipper scoured the kitchen for any other left overs that he could add.

Finally, once the satchel was all filled up, the otter slung the strap over his shoulder, blew out all the lights, and made his way up to the Great Hall. There, he stepped behind one of the pillars where he picked up another satchel, which had been hidden there earlier by him. He also picked up two cloaks he had hidden there as well; one was neat and reddish, the other ragged and greenish-brown. He placed the red cloak around his shoulders, and placed the green over the red.

After making certain that each satchel was secure and hidden beneath the cloaks, Skipper quietly walked over towards the door. Easing it open, he hoped like always that it wouldn't wake anybeast up. Though there was always the chance they'd be awakened by his hammering heart.

It was still snowing, which was a good thing, meaning that his tracks would soon be covered. Thank goodness so many other beasts had been outside earlier as well; it made his own footprints less conspicuous. Trotting across the snow-laden lawn, the otter made his way over to the southern wallgate. After opening it, he stuck his head out, looking this way and that, sniffing the air carefully.

Sensing nobeast about, Skipper slipped out carefully so that the gate locked behind him. He always made certain that it did; if ever any enemies made their way inside the abbey because of him...

As soon as he was satisfied that the door had locked, the otter was away into the trees like a shot. If anybeast had tried to follow the Skipper, they would have lost him within a short time: the path he took had so many twists and turns that even Skipper himself was occasionally bewildered by it.

He only knew it because it had been carefully explained to him several times, and he was only able to take it so easily after seasons of long practice. Finally, Skipper arrived at his destination.

Crouching down next to a leaning tree, he peered across a very small clearing at a very large oak tree. To anybeast else, it was just another tree in the wintry forest. But not to Skipper.

After taking another careful sniff at the air and straining his eyes and ears for anybeast who may be watching, the otter sped over towards the oak. He kneeled down next to a hollow beneath the tree that was barely visible, and called out softly, "Rasouk?"

A paw suddenly shot out from the hole, seizing Skipper by the front of his cloak and pulling him sharply inside. The otter was then roughly pushed to the ground, a paw covering his mouth while a dagger was pressed against his neck.

Skipper made no move, taking shallow breaths as he waited for the beast on top of him to realize who he was. He then heard a chuckle.

"Ahh, Skip. So nice of you to drop by."

The knife and paw moved away from his neck and mouth, and the beast sat up. Skipper sat up as well, dusting a little at his cloak, turning to look at the other: a fox, male, clad in a ragged pair of breeches, handsome in a wily sort of way, with a lean, strong build.

"Sorry about the rude entrance," the fox said oily, sliding a claw along the blade's edge. "Gotta make sure that you're the only beast who knows where my little hideaway is, see?"

The otter nodded, his face grim. He knew that Rasouk knew very well that it was him.

"Well, let's see what you brought me this time. Come on," the fox, Rasouk, said as he headed down the narrow tunnel.

Skipper followed, keeping low until they reached the end, where a large room-sized burrow appeared. In it were small piles of blankets, trinkets, and some scraps of food. In one corner was a lit lantern, casting a golden-ish light across the dirt-walls. It was into the wall that Rasouk stabbed his knife into before turning to the otter.

"Alright," Rasouk said, rubbing his paws briskly. "Let's see what y'got."

Skipper unslung the satchels from his shoulders and placed them on the floor. The fox bent down and opened one up, the one filled with food.

"Oh hoho! Oh yes!" Rasouk sank his claws greedily into the scones and tarts. "I haven't had any of these yet! Though I'm glad you brought some more o' these blackberry scones. Mmmm!" He sank his teeth into a piece of the apple and plum pie with maple frosting. "Oh hoho! Now this is the good stuff! Mmmm!"

He then reached into the other satchel and pulled out some old blankets that had been recently patched up. "What, just one bag of food?" the fox complained. "Ah well. You did bring me more blankets, that's good."

Rasouk tossed the blankets onto the pile of others, and turned back to the otter. Without a word he unclasped the green-brown cloak and whipped it off Skipper's shoulders, inspecting it closely.

"Huh," the fox said, wrinkling his snout. "I said I wanted a nice cloak. Couldn't you do any better than this?"

"I brought you this cloak," Rorac said irritably, taking off the reddish cloak - which was swiftly snatched away by Rasouk.

"Hmm, yes, this one does fit the bill better," he nodded. And with that, he placed both cloaks onto the pile of blankets.

Skipper stepped forward in protest. "Hey, I brought you just the one-"

"I'll take both, thank you," Rasouk said with a note of finality.

Rorac, who was now clad only in belt and kilt, stared thunderstruck at the fox. "But I have to walk all the way back to the abbey-!"

"And there you will find yourself a nice warm bed next to a nice big fire inside nice thick walls, whereas I have to stay out here in this tiny old burrow with only rags and a single flame to keep me warm."

The otter blew out his nose. "Fine. Then I'll be off-"

"Hold it, what's this nice belt?"

Skipper shielded his belt from the fox's prying claws. "Hey, I need this!"

"I just want to see it, Skip. Now hold still. Hmmm... nah, you keep it. It isn't exactly my style."

Rorac rolled his eyes, but was thankful that the fox hadn't insisted on taking it.

"By the by," Rasouk said before Skipper could turn to go. "Why don't you wear any more pawrings or tailrings anymore?"

"Because every time I come here wearing them, I leave without them!"

"Well, that's part of our agreement, isn't it?" the fox shrugged. "Next time you come back here, wear your rings, I'd like some more. Oh, but don't wear them all at once, just one at a time. That way you'll always have some little trinket to give to me every time you visit."

Skipper glared for a moment before saying through clenched teeth, "Very well."

"Also..."

The otter gave a small groan.

"...I'd like you to come back again tomorrow night with some extra blankets, and some more tinder and flint, I'm running out. And maybe a game or two, because I'm going to be stuck here in this place pretty much all winter. I'm liable to get bored."

"Very well, is there anything else?"

"Yes, I think from now on, since its winter, you should come more often with food. Maybe every night?"

Skipper stared open-mouthed at the fox before crying, "Every night, are you insane? That's too much, I couldn't possibly-"

"Well, you're probably right," Rasouk said with a maddening smile. "The Redwallers would get suspicious. How about every other night, that might work out a little better, wouldn't you agree?"

Skipper took a deep breath and said, "Very well."

"Good," Rasouk smiled.

"And then will you be satisfied?"

The fox blinked and tilted his head. "With what?"

"I've been stealing all these things from the abbey for you-"

"Stealing? Why, my good Skipper, you're not stealing!" Rasouk said with a laugh. "From what I've heard, the abbey belongs to all who live there, isn't that true?"

"Yes, but-"

"And isn't all that you've been taking from there just food and blankets? And aren't those the type of things that are freely given at the abbey?"

"...Yes, b-"

"And all the earrings, the pawrings, and the tailrings, don't they all belong to you personally?"

"Well, yes-"

"Then how can you be stealing anything? The abbey has already been giving out free food and blankets ever since it came into existence. You're just following their example in helping out the cold and hungry. And as for the trinkets, they all belong to you in the first place, so you're at perfect liberty to give them away as you please. So, in conclusion, dear Skipper, you're not stealing. You're just giving me gifts - out of the goodness of your kind lovin' heart. Isn't that right?" the fox ended with a grin.

Skipper took an even deeper breath. "Yes."

"Good," Rasouk said softly. "So you don't have to worry about stealin' stuff, because you aren't. I believe we've been over this before, haven't we? Well, no matter."

"But will you be satisfied after this winter is over?" Skipper asked.

Rasouk gave another maddening smile. "I will be satisfied when I say so. Now be off with you. You better get some sleep tonight, so you'll be able to have the energy to come back tomorrow night with all the things I need."

The otter blew out his nose, turned away and headed towards the tunnel...

...only to stop and look back, eyes narrowed.

"Don't try my patience, fox. I mean it."

He turned, starting forward again-

-except he was seized from behind, Rasouk's paw once again clamping over his mouth while the other wrapped itself around his middle. Skipper stumbled backwards, arms flailing. The fox's voice, now harsh and growling, sounded in his ear.

"And may I remind you just why you are doing all of this, Skipper of otters? Just why you have come bearing gifts to me in the dark of night? Because you need me to keep my silence, that's why! Because you never want any of your precious abbey friends to find out about your secret, don't you? Remember?" he said sharply when the otter tried to pry himself loose. "Your secret? That thing you did all those seasons ago? The thing that was so terrible that if any of those peace-loving abbeymice ever found out about it... if any of your crew ever knew about it... if any of your friends or messmates or anybeast of Mossflower Woods ever knew what it was that you did on that day..."

The fox didn't finish, but he didn't need to. For a terrible vision passed before Skipper's eyes: a vision of every single Redwaller, of every single member of his loyal crew, of every single Mossflower animal he had ever known in his entire life... all of whom looked at him with the upmost respect, love, and trust... of them finding out that terrible act he committed on that day...

If any of them ever found out... if Miru ever found out...

The otter stood there, lost in horrified thought at the possibilities; Rasouk's paw still over his mouth while the claws of his other paw traced lines on Rorac's bellyfur.

The fox smiled, enjoying the look of fear in Skipper's eyes. "Yes," he whispered into Rorac's ear. "They wouldn't be so willing to call you 'friend' after that, now would they? They wouldn't want anything to do with you. They wouldn't want you to be anywhere near their homes. They wouldn't want you to have ever been a part of their lives. And you certainly don't want that to happen, do you? You don't want to be cast out of their world with nobeast to call friend, do you? Do you?" he repeated softly.

The otter let out a shuddering breath through his nose, lowering his head and sagging his shoulders. Rasouk nodded, releasing his captive and stepping away from Skipper. "Good. I'm so glad we had this little discussion. Now get going. You need to get back at the abbey for some sleep."

Without a word, Skipper Rorac tore out of the burrow, as though getting away from the fox would get him away from those dreadful thoughts.

Chuckling, Rasouk huddled down on the floor, wrapping himself in the cloaks and blankets, drawing the lantern closer, as well as the satchel of new food. Life was good.

And when one had control over a Skipper of otters, life was perfect.