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Vurg interrupted the hare's tirade. "Ahoy, Beau, mind yore manners. Take a close look at yon mouse an' tell me who ye think he is?"

Beau crouched down, holding his back and grimacing. He brought his face level with Martin's. The eyeglass popped out with surprise as he stared at the Warrior mouse.

"Luke! Well burn my auntie's taters, wot! You're a bounder, a rotter an' a curmudgeon, sah! How is it that you've stayed so jolly young while we've grown old? Not the done sort o' thing, I'd say. Bally cad!"

Martin sprang up onto the ledge. Smiling, he grasped Beau's paw and pumped it up and down.

"I'm Martin of Redwall, son of Luke the Warrior. Whom have I the pleasure of addressing, sir?"

The hare shook his hoary silver head, returning the smile. "Knew y'father well, sah. Excellent chap! I'm Beauhair Fethringham Cosfortingsol. No I ain't, I'm Beausol Fethringhair Cosfortingclair. No I ain't, wait a tick. I'm Beauham Fethringclair Confounditall. Tchah! I'm so old I've forgotten me own name. What a disgrace, wot!"

Vurg sniggered. "Heehee, try Beauclair Fethringsol Cosfortingham. That's yore silly long name."

The hare scratched his scraggy whiskers. "Ah! Of course it is. Thank you, old chap." Then, scratching his whiskers again, he turned on Vurg. "On the other paw, who asked you, sah, you battered old mouserelic? When I need somebeast to tell me m'name I'll jolly well ask m'self. Pish tush! The very idea, tellin' a chap his own moniker!"

Vurg approached him until they stood nose to nose. "Battered ole mouserelic? Well of course I am, an' who wouldn't be, lookin' after you all these seasons. Should've left you on Twin Islands, that's wot I should've done!"

Martin clapped a paw to his brow, looking beseechingly to Gonff. The Mousethief pushed Beau and Vurg apart. "Quiet now, you two, an' lissen t'me. Aboard our ship we got a way of settlin' arguments. We let any quarrelsome beasts settle things by challengin' our argument counselor. Folgrim, come over 'ere!"

Testing his ax edge by licking it, Folgrim strode over. Baring pointed teeth, he turned his scarred face from Vurg to Beau. The otter's voice sounded like a blade hacking ice.

"Well now, anybeast got an argument t'settle wid me, choose yore weapons. Axes or teeth, it don't make no odds t'me!"

Vurg immediately hid behind Beau, whose throat bobbed like an apple on a string as he gulped. "Arguin'? Who's arguin', old chap? Merely a bit o' humorous banter 'twixt my erstwhile companion and m'goodself, wot? I say, Vurg, hadn't we better get these seagoin' types aboard the good vessel Arfship? They look jolly hungry an' tired t'me. We could fricassee a shark or two for friend Folgrim, or maybe he'd prefer just to gnaw on the messdeck table. Er, ahaha, follow me, chaps. No offense, mister Folgrim sir, merely a jocular jest, wot wot!"

Vurg and Beau led them through a perfectly round tunnel in the rock. They emerged on the other side amid the massed pinnacles and stood gazing up in open-mouthed awe at the sight that greeted them. Beau managed to make an elegant leg and bowed slightly. "Welcome to the vessel Arfship!"

Jammed between the column they stood upon and the one immediately next to it was half a ship. High overhead it stood, lodged between both pinnacles, more than two-thirds of the way up. From midships to for'ard end it was wedged firmly, a huge rusting iron spike at its forepeak driven into the rock by some tremendous force. The thing had once been red, but now through seasons of harsh weather, seaspray, sun and rain, it was faded to a rose-pink hue.

Dinny's voice cut the silence. "Well fill moi tunnel! Arf a ship oop in ee air!" Ascending another rope ladder, they climbed up to the old habitation. Trimp stared about in astonishment at the immensity of it all. It was like being in some great chamber. Timbered bulkheads with holes for oarports let in the light, as did the opened hatch covers high above them. Furmo's voice echoed spectrally in the vast space, as the crew of the Honeysuckle walked through it wide-eyed.

"An' this is supposed t'be only arf a ship! I tell ye, mates, could you imagine it afore it was broken, with the other arf attached? It must've been like a floatin' village! I wager there wasn't anythin' that size ever sailed the seas!"

Vurg nodded his old head. "Oh but there was, an' this is what's left of it. See through those open hatch covers? There's another deck above this an' another one above that again. Yore lookin' through three decks up t'the main one, which, if y'count it, makes four altogether. We keeps the 'atches open to give light, battens 'em down in bad weather. Up these stairs is the for'ard cabins. Come on, I'll show ye!"

Martin shook his head as he passed rows of benches, with chains dangling from them and long broken oars hanging through the ports. They looked well worn from constant use. "Beau, was this a slave ship?"

"Indeed it was, old lad, the foulest, most evil vessel that ever plied the ocean. Now 'tis our home, our beloved Arfship. Actually, 'twould have been Half Ship if I'd had me way, but the others called it Arfship, so Arfship it is, wot. Come an' eat now, questions later, that's the drill!"

Following him up the ornately carved staircase, they entered a roomy cabin with its skylights thrown open. It was a complete living area. Tables, chairs, bunks and cupboards were all about, clean and neat. Two mice, old and gray, were working at a table next to a big glowing stove with its smokepipe thrusting through the edge of the skylight. Vurg introduced them.

"This is all of us left from those who sailed off long ago from the north shores. Myself, Dulam and Denno."

The mouse called Denno went straight to Martin and took the Warrior's face gently in both his flour-dusted paws. "No need to tell ole Denno who you areI know. Luke's son Martin. Couldn't be no otherbeast. Yore the spittin' image o' the great Luke, though you got yore mother Sayna's eyes."

Martin shook visibly, blinking hard. "You knew my mother?"

Denno nodded. "Course I did, an' a prettier, more gentle creature there never was. I knew 'em all, Martin, everybeast. But we've got all night to talk of that. Sit and rest now, the food will be ready soon."

Barnacle casserole was a delicious concoction of sea vegetables and shellfish. Guosim cooks hurried back to the Honeysuckle and brought up more supplies. Beau relented, and aided by Folgrim and Trimp he began mixing a big plum pudding. Gonff helped the Guosim cooks to bake scones and bread. Martin and Chugger cut up an excellent cheese, studded with beech mast and hazelnuts. Dinny put together a salad with any spare vegetables he rooted out. Mint tea was put on to boil, and dandelion and burdock cordial poured from a keg into serving jugs.

After the tables were pushed together and set, they sat down. Gonff proposed a toast.

"To the end of a journey, to my best friend Martin the Warrior an' to the wonderful vittles an' good hospitality showed to us by the crew of the Arfship!

Everybeast raised their beakers and drank cheerfully. As they ate, Furmo could not resist asking the question that was puzzling him greatly.

"Tell me, Vurg, 'ow did the for'ard half of a great ship land up 'ere? It just don't seem possible."

Vurg munched shrewbread and cheese as he explained. "Yore right, mate, I wouldn't 'ave believed it meself if'n I hadn't been aboard at the time, but 'ere's how it came about. Durin' the biggest storm anybeast'd ever seen, the Goreleech for that was once wot this ship was calledstruck that big rock pillar out in front. I tell ye, waves twice as high as this vessel were runnin' on a sea driven by wind an' rain. 'Twas more like a hurricane than a gale. Well, she whacked that big rock side on, with a force you couldn't imagine. Smashed the Goreleech clean in two, like an 'ot knife goin' through butter. On board the for'ard part were oarslaves an' Sea Rogues doin' battle. We were flung to the decks like wet leaves in a wind. There was screamin', shoutin' an' weepin'everybeast was sure they'd met their deaths. The stern half fell backward into the sea, and sank in the blink of an eye.