Amid the laughter that followed, Kolun could be heard yelling to the watchers on the high rim, “Lorgo! Banya! See if’n ye can’t knot enough ropes together to get us out of here!”
34
Deedero Galedeep was chopping leeks and scallions to add to her stewpot when an otterbabe came bursting through the waterfall curtain into the cavern. Placing his little paws either side of his mouth, he bawled at her, “Mammee, a fink our daddie’s comin’ ’ome!”
Deedero put aside the knife, wiping her paws on her apron. “Wot’ve I told ye about shoutin’, Toobil? I ain’t deaf!”
Toobil climbed up on her lap and whispered in her ear, “I sayed Daddie’s comin’ ’ome, wiv lots h’of uthers.”
Picking the babe up, Deedero stowed him sideways on her hip and shuffled off through the watery curtain. “Hmph, he must’ve smelt my shrimp’n’hotroot soup cookin’. Come on then, let’s go an’ meet him.”
They joined the other families heading for the ledge.
It was an odd but rousing sight. A barnacle goose, twoscore and five hares in regimental rigout, countless clanbeasts and freed slave families, and Tiria, in her full regalia, being carried at their centre, seated on a chair made of spearhafts and javelins. The situation was made more incongruous stilclass="underline" Everybeast was singing lustily, a barrack-room ballad which had been taught to them by Porters and Quarters, the two young subalterns. Some ottermums took the precaution of covering the ears of their babes, though a few elders marched alongside of them, chuckling aloud.
“Pick ’em up laddie buck! an’ put ’em down laddie
buck!
You’ve made it home an’ now you’re out of luck, out
of luck!
Oh ’tis nice to march back home,
when there’s nowhere else to go,
for home is every warrior’s desire.
To see the ones you love, beat each other black’n’blue,
while your dear old granny’s roastin’ by the fire!
Pick ’em up laddie buck! an’ put ’em down laddie buck!
You’ve made it home an’ now you’re out of luck, out
of luck!
To taste your mother’s cookin’,
an’ have bellyache all day,
o what a sad an’ sorry tale is this.
If I could just escape, to some regimental camp,
I’d give some ugly sergeant one big kiss!
Pick ’em up laddie buck! an’ put ’em down laddie buck!
You’ve made it home an’ now you’re out of luck, out
of luck!
But I cannot run away,
’cos my sister pinched me boots,
she bit me nose an’ stole me uniform.
An’ Dad’s nailed up the door, wot a lovely welcome
home,
from a family so kind an’ sweet an’ warm!
Pick ’em up laddie buck! Put ’em down laddie buck!
You’ve made it home an’ now you’re out of luck, out of
luck!”
Colour Sergeant O’Cragg and Big Kolun (who fancied the idea of being an officer) roared out together in fine parade-ground manner, “Regiment . . . wait for it! . . . Haaaaalt!”
Everybeast stamped to a perfect halt. Big Kolun swelled out his chest. “H’otterclans . . . dismiss!”
Colour Sergeant O’Cragg came next. “Long Patrol... dismiss!”
Clanbeasts ran to be reunited with their families. There was widespread backslapping, hugging and kissing. The freed slaves were welcomed cordially. Otters began crowding around Tiria, each wanting to shake the paw of their High Queen, the Rhulain of Green Isle.
Kolun, still struck by the thought of becoming an officer, introduced Tiria to his missus. “Milady, h’allow me to present my h’enchantin’ wife, Deedero!”
The big homely ottermum stared at her husband strangely. “Why are ye talkin’ like that, for goodness sakes?”
Kolun stood smartly to attention and saluted Deedero. “Because, h’o jewel h’of my ’eart, h’I’m a h’officer now.”
Deedero passed him the babe to carry. “Ye great windbag, keep talkin’ like that t’me, an’ I’ll bend a ladle round yore rudder.”
She hugged Tiria and kissed her cheek. “Welcome to Holt Summerdell, Yore Majesty. ’Tis a rare pleasure to have ye here. Ye’ll be stayin’ to dinner I hope?”
Tiria chuckled. “I’ll be staying here for lots of dinners. This is my home now.”
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Epilogue
To the Mother Abbess of Redwall Abbey,
From the High Rhulain of Green Isle
My Dearest Friend Lycian,
It is now eight seasons since Brantalis landed at Redwall and marked the start of my quest. What an adventure it has been—from simple Abbeymaid to Queen!
Sometimes I just sit back and enjoy the feeling of being High Rhulain.
Brantalis continues to serve us well. He is fiercely proud of his twin titles, “Queen’s Courier” and “Official Messenger to Redwall Abbey,” though I think our goose only takes on the tasks because he enjoys all the attention and feeding he receives at either end of his journey, carrying our letters.
Let me tell you some of what has taken place since I came to Green Isle (I am sure the Redwall Recorder will want all the details).
Holt Summerdell is now our pride and joy. What ruler ever had such good and faithful friends to serve her, with the exception of you at Redwall. My otterclans have now restored everything to its former glory. The terraces and ledges are a profusion of fruit, vegetables and flowers. Our gardeners make sure we want for nothing.
My Water Bailiffs, Whulky and Chab, tend to the ponds and rapids, so our little ones can play there from dawn to dusk in safety. Holt Summerdell is always filled with the sounds of song and the laughter of otterbabes, which to my mind is the sweetest of all.
Big Kolun Galedeep’s missus, Deedero, has supervised the restoration of our big cave. Now we have proper dormitories, a wonderful dining hall, extensive kitchens, even a wine cellar. Deedero is not so much an ottermum as a force of nature. I have never seen a creature so full of boundless energy and enthusiasm. I would be lost without Deedero and Banya Streamdog as my constant companions. We take tea together (just like you and molemum Burbee). Between us we plan and discuss everything from feasting to harvesting.
At the moment, we are designing uniform tunics for our clan warriors. Leatho Shellhound, Big Kolun and the clan leaders were so impressed by the tactics and discipline of the Long Patrol. They learned a lot from the hares before they returned to their mountain—mainly that constant vigilance and alertness will keep our isle free from foebeasts and the threat of conquering warlords. At the clan meeting, they voted unanimously to form the Green Clan Regiment.
So, I think Green Isle is now safe, with Leatho and the Green Clan Regiment to protect our shores—even though Kolun Galedeep and certain comrades of his have adopted harespeech! Banya and I have to laugh when Deedero says, “If’n that great lump and his mates come into supper wot-wotting and pip-pipping and callin’ me ole gel, I’ll bend a ladle over their rudders!”
Well, Lycian, that is all of my news for this season—apart from the fact that we begin planning our Autumn Pool Festival, but I’ll tell you more of that in my next letter. By the way, can you ask my dad and Brink how they made those coloured water lanterns? You remember them from when we had a Harvest Feast around the Abbey pond.