Sister Alkanet pointed a paw severely in front of her. "You Dibbuns, form a line, right there. Just look at the dreadful state you lot are in!"
1 langing their heads and shuffling paws, the Abbeybabes fell in line. Drogg Cellarhog eyed them sternly. "Wot've you been tole about goin' in the pool by yoreselves, eh?"
Before they could answer, Sister Alkanet opened Feegle's mouth and peered at her tongue. "Ugh! Pondwater, sand and I don't know what you've been swallowing. Right, follow me to the infirmary. 'Tis a dose of agrimony physick all 'round and a good bath in clean water and soapwort for all of you. Better bring Wegg along too, Miz Filorn!"
The ottermum felt sorry for the Dibbuns, but she knew as well as they did that lessons must be learned. She kept a straight face as she asked accusingly, "And pray tell me, where's my best trifle bowl?"
Durby tried one of his most winning molesmiles. "Et be's daown unner ee ponder, missus. Ee gurt fishes makin' troifle in et, tho' not as noice as yourn, moi dearie!"
Filorn wagged an admonitory paw at the Dibbuns. "Well, I can't make any more woodland trifles with meadowcream if I don't have my favorite bowl, no more ever. Now d'you see what your disobedience and naughtiness have cost you?" The Dibbuns were led off wailing heartbrokenly.
When they had gone, Mhera waded back into the pond. She waved to her mother. "Seeing as I'm wet already, I'll go and get it back."
Boorab touched his injured nose gingerly. "I'b glad deb liddle 'uns're geddin' physicked ad nodd bee. Blurgh! Id tasthes like boiled frogth!"
Old Hoarg agreed heartily with the hare. "I mind one time she physicked me for a bad tummy. Phwarr! I swore I'd die afore I took the Sister's physick again."
Mhera emerged from the pool carrying the bowl. "That old grayling looks as if he's in need of some medicine. I had to butt him real hard. Couldn't take a chance on letting him get to little Wegg."
Filorn patted her daughter's soggy back gratefully. "You did the right thing. Thank you, my dear. I'd have missed this bowl very much. Your father made it for me. I think you're as good a swimmer as he ever was, Mhera. Up you go now. Dry off and get out o' those wet robes. There's fresh ones in my linen chest."
Drogg Cellarhog watched Mhera squelch off back to the Abbey. "You got a wunnerful daughter there, marm. Anybeast'd be proud to 'ave 'er as kin!"
Chapter 20
It was evening when Mhera came back down from her room. She had taken a short nap, cleaned herself up and dressed in a soft magnolia robe with a brown cord girdle. She found Broggle and Fwirl sitting together in the orchard.
"Hello, you two. Well, Fwirl, how was your sewing lesson?"
Broggle pulled a face and held his paws up. "Don't even ask, Mhera! We'd just finished with that coverlet when in marches the good Sister with a crowd of muddy wet Dibbuns. She made us help her to physick and bathe them."
Mhera winked and smiled at Fwirl. "That's Sister Alkanet for you!"
"But that wasn't all," the squirrelmaid went on to explain. "She admired our needlework so much that she found us a lot of old sheets that needed repairing. So now I know all about sewing, thanks to you cutting a piece from the coverlet. That started it all!"
The three friends were still laughing when Floburt and Egburt came running along.
"Hi there. Have you put your names down for the wall race?"
Mhera clapped a paw to her brow. "Great seasons, I'd forgotten. Is it this evening? Come on, pals. We'd better get to the gatehouse!"
Fwirl was all agog. "What's a wall race? Can I take part?
Broggle chuckled at his pretty friend's eagerness. "Of course you can, Fwirl; you should be good at it. Everybeast who enters has to nominate how they'll run, wall or grass. The grass runners run alongside the wall on the ground, but the wall runners go along the parapet of the ramparts. The race starts from the threshold over the gatehouse, and you run right 'round the four walls back to the starting spot. Anybeast can enter, but it's usually the good runners who win. The elders just watch."
They gave their names to Hoarg. Egburt, Floburt, Mhera and Fwirl nominated to go by the wall. Gundil and quite a few other moles, who were not fond of heights, nominated to go on the grass course. Fwirl asked the mole what the prize was, and Gundil touched his snout knowingly.
"Eell soon foind owt if'n ee wins, bootiful miz, hurr hurr!"
Foremole Brull marshaled the runners on the grass, kindly allowing the Dibbun entrants a starting line far ahead of the rest. She kept pointing and explaining to the little ones, "You'm goes thataway. Amember naow . . . thataway ee be runnen!"
Up on the parapet old Hoarg was lining the walltop runners in position. Alongside Egburt, Fwirl watched the antics of Foremole Brull and the Dibbuns curiously.
"What's the Foremole telling them, Floburt?"
The hedgehog chuckled as she explained, "She's telling them which way to go. When the race starts, some of the little 'uns are so dozy that they run all over the place, in the opposite direction, back to the Abbey, wherever. Last time some of them ended up dashing into the pool or straight into the gatehouse. You can never tell with Dibbuns, they get so excited."
Fwirl watched the Dibbuns dancing up and down, their faces alight, chattering to one another in baby talk. “Hahaha, bless their little hearts!"
Boorab's nose had recovered sufficiently for him to start the race. He stood on the gatehouse steps, holding a yellow flag, which had once been a grain sack.
"All contestants pay attention please for the annual wall'n'grass race, wot! Y'must observe the jolly old rules. No shovin' or pushin'. Straight 'round the wall boundaries an' back here, no shortcuts or secret routes. Right ho, chaps'n'chapesses, good luck to everybeast an' let's have a good clean race. Ready ... on y'marks, get setgo!"
The runners took off helter-skelter, both on the grass and along the ramparts. Mhera was out in front, with Floburt and a mouse named Birrel, all running neck and neck. Cregga stayed on the threshold with the other elders. She grabbed Friar Bobb's paw, her sightless eyes blinking rapidly. "What's happening? Who's in the lead? Tell me, tell me!"
The Friar began shouting an excited commentary for her benefit. "Mhera, Floburt and Birrel are leading, though only just now, Egburt is nearly up there with them. Oh, look out! Great seasons, here comes our Broggle, and Filorn too. I never knew those two could run like that. Oh, great flyin' fur an' footpaws, what in the name of thunder is that?"
Cregga smiled knowingly. "Our pretty Fwirl, I'll bet!"
Old Hoarg was waving his stick and roaring, "She's whipped right past 'em all, leapin' along the battlement tops. I never seen aught like it. Fwirl's goin' like a streak o' red lightnin'. Go on, young 'un, you show 'em the way 'round!"
Everybeast yelled their admiration for the newest Redwaller. Friar Bobb turned his attention to the grass runners. "The ground racers have just turned the sou'west corner, it's Gundil in the lead, goin' bravely, with three molemaids on his tail. They've just gone behind the bushes on the south wall. Hohoho, Durby and Feegle have skirted the bushes and are running over to the orchard as if they mean business!"
Drogg Cellarhog groaned. "My pore strawberry patch!"
Fwirl was tugging old Hoarg's sleeve. "Excuse me, sir, 1 think I'm first back."
The ancient gatehouse keeper stared in amazement at her. "But. .. but... the others are on'y midway along the north walltop!"
As the last of the wall runners came in there was much paw-shaking and back-slapping. All attention was now riveted on the grass runners down below. Gundil was only leading by a whisker, with two hedgehogs and the three molemaids pounding almost alongside him. Mhera, Broggle and Fwirl cheered their molefriend on uproariously.
"Keep going, Gundil, keep going!"
"Don't look back, keep going, you can do it, Gundil!"