Rimrose felt her paws trembling as she lowered Guff back to the path. Excitement and many differing emotions crowded in on her, so that she could hardly put her words together correctly.
"Tell them Abbey, er, Abbey go, tell them Janglur, tell my daughter coming home. Quick Abbey!"
Guff nodded. He understood perfectly. Dibbuns spoke like that all the time, it was no problem. He trundled off toward Redwall while Rimrose dashed the other way, her skirts and aprons flapping as she yelled herself hoarse. "Song, it's Song, my daughter's coming home!"
Soon the dustcloud was seen rising above the trees, tramping paws keeping up with the old marching ballad. Strung across four pikestaffs borne by Song, Dann, Dippler and Gawjo, the great Redwall tapestry provided a fitting banner as they bellowed the words.
"Seven seasons gone, oh seven seasons gone,
But now I'm comin' home, me dear ole mate,
Over valley hill'n'field an' me footpaws didn't yield,
Get some vittles on the table, I can't wait!
Go t'the left right left! Go t'the left right left!
Seven seasons gone, oh seven seasons gone,
Have the little ones all growed up big'n'strong,
Is me father in the chair, do his snores ring through the air,
Now I'm goin' to wake him up with this ould song.
Go t'the left right left! Go t'the left right left!
Seven seasons gone, oh seven seasons gone,
I've been fightin' roarin' marchin' all the time,
But I'm comin' home t'you, to give you a hug or two,
The moment that I've supped a jug o' wine.
Go t'the left right left! Go t'the left right left!"
Bong boom! Bong boom! Bong boom!
The bells of Redwall Abbey tolled out like melodious rolling thunder. Chores, rest, recreation and duty were forgotten. Redwallers poured out onto the path outside the gates to see the brave sight. Aprons waved and cooks' caps were flung into the air. Cregga seized Friar Butty and sat him upon her mighty shoulders, yelling, "What do you see, friend, tell me what you can see?"
The old Recorder's voice squeaked with eagerness. "I see Song, Dann and the young Guosim, wotsisname, Dippler! There's an old squirrel marchin' alongside them, looks like a seasoned warrior t'me. I see a rank of hedgehogs, biggest I ever set eyes on, must be close to a score of 'em! Right behind them there's squirrels, mice, moleseven some otters! They're smiling, laughing, singing, pounding the dust up high as they come. Oh, Cregga marm, did you ever see such a sight?"
Cregga chuckled at the thought of a blind badger seeing any sight, but she understood her friend's jubilation. "No, I never saw such a sight, Friar. What else do you see?"
"I see Martin the Warrior! They've done it! They've brought the great tapestry home to Redwall!"
Rusvul grabbed his son's paws with a fierceness Dann could feel, dust settling on their faces as they stared intently at each other.
"Dann, that night, I'm sorry ..."
Dann seemed to have grown taller and broader. "Forget it, Reguba!"
Rusvul held his son at paw's length. "No, Dann, yore the Reguba now. Let me look at the son who's made me proud t'see a warrior standin' before me!"
Janglur and Rimrose hugged Song so hard she could scarcely breathe.
"Oh, Song, Song, thank the seasons you're back safe!"
"Well, missie, I'll bet you've sung some songs an' been through a few adventures since you left yore ole dad'n'mum. Haha, yore even prettier'n when y'went away!"
Song found herself looking over Janglur's shoulder at her grandpa and Ellayo, staring at one another like two creatures in a dream.
"Gawjo Swifteye, is it really you?"
"Aye, 'tis me, Ellayo me dear, older an' grayer, though mebbe none the wiser. Bet I'm a sight t'make sore eyes sorer, eh?"
"Oh no, Gawjo, you look 'andsome, all silver-furred an' well."
"Aye, but not half so pretty as you, Ellayo. You've not changed a single hair. Wait, is that our son Janglur?"
"You could wager on it, Gawjo. That apple never fell far from the tree! He's the breath out o' yore mouth. Go to him!"
"Thank ye, I will. Oh, Torrab, bring yore crew over here. Ellayo, I want you t'meet yore other sons an' daughters."
The old squirrelwife looked up at the big hedgehogs surrounding her and shook her head in amazement. "My sons an' daughters? Great seasons! You there, you look too big to be anybeast's son."
The giant hedgehog bowed, his face wreathed in smiles. "Hoho, marm, I ain't yore son, I'm just a visitor. My name's Sollertree an' this is my daughter Nettlebud an' our friend Goodwife Brimm. She's a fine cook, I can assure ye, marm."
Dippler found himself chatting to many Guosim friends. "Poor ole Bargle. That's another Log a Log we lost, mates. Who's Chieftain o' the tribe now? You, Mayon? Or Splikker maybe? I'm sure you've chosen another Log a Log since I've been gone?"
Mayon shook his head ruefully. "No, mate, Bargle was only actin' Log a Log. We can't make a new Chief until we catch up with that murderin' Fenno."
Dippler looked puzzled. "Fenno? Surely ye weren't thinkin' o' makin' that blackguard into a Log a Log?"
"Oh no. But Guosim law states clear that a new Chieftain can't be appointed until the old one is avenged," Splikker explained. "The Guerrilla Union rule is that when a Log a Log dies by the paw of a Guosim shrew"
Dippler interrupted him, as shrews invariably do when debating. "Lissen, matey, you've no need to go huntin' Fenno. I caught up with that murderin' scum an' slew him with my own sword, even though it was snapped in half. He's deader'n last season's grass an' good riddance to the villain!"
Everybeast turned as the shrews threw up their paws and pointed their snouts toward Dippler, setting up a shout.
"Logalogalogalogalogalooooooog!"
The young Guosim shrew stood totally embarrassed. "Ahoy, mates, steady on there. Wot's all the shoutin' about?"
A venerable old shrew named Marglo came forward, carrying something wound in barkcloth.
"Yore only a young 'un. Stands t'reason y'not expected to know all of the Guosim law, so I'll quote some to ye.
"The paw of the shrew that slays the beast,
Who made our Chieftain fall,
Will wield the sword of Guosim,
And be Log a Log over all!"
Marglo unwrapped the barkcloth from a short rapier. Dippler recognized his dead leader's blade straightaway. The oldster presented it to him ceremoniously. "From this day forth yore name is forgotten in our tribe. Take the Chieftain's blade. Hail, Log a Log of all Guosim!"
Everybeast on the path in front of Redwall set up an earsplitting cheer. Skipper waved them to silence. "Would y'like to say a word to yore tribe, Log a Log, me ole mate? Come on, don't be shy."
The new Log a Log thrust the rapier into his belt. "Ahem, now let me see . . . er . . . yes. Guosim! I'm only young, but I'll try to be as good a Log a Log as our old 'un was, fortune smile on 'is memory. But I been thinkin'. No more logboats fer us, we're goin' to build new vessels, light an' swift an' easy t'carry overland. Soon now I'll take ye to see me friend Chief Burble, boss of the River'ead watervoles. He's the bucko who'll show us 'ow t'make boats like the Swallow, neatest liddle craft ever to sail a stream! Oh, an' there's another thing. I won't stand t'see any young 'uns in our tribe pushed around or bullied or made fun of! Er ... that's all fer now, but I'll think of more to say to ye later."
Dann strode over to congratulate his friend. "Well said, Log a Log. I think you'll be a great Chieftain!"
Cregga's searching paw reached Dann. "What about you, sir Reguba? Have you got any plans?"
"Who, me? Er, no, not really, marm. Oh, I'm sorry, here's yore sword back. Sorry I borrowed it without permission."
Janglur's lazy eyes flickered as he murmured to Gawjo and Rusvul, "Just watch young Dann's face when Cregga tells 'im the news!"
The blind badger's paw closed tightly over Dann's, holding the sword there. Everybeast heard what she had to say.