Alkanet pursed her lips, bound, as usual, to have her say. "Correct, Skipper. Cregga is not young and full of energy. I took the arrowhead from her, but she's slowly fading. She needs you by her side, Mhera. Filorn, you know how much Friar Bobb relies on your help, and the others too. I beg you to stay at the Abbey."
Filorn was impressed. She had never heard Alkanet beg anything from a living creature, so she gave in to her request.
"Well, we've come through all these seasons not knowing whether Deyna lived. Now we do know, I suppose we'll have to be patient a little longer, Mhera."
The ottermaid bowed obediently. "We'll be patient, Mama, but it won't be for long, I hope."
This time a bigger, more comfortable litter was made to transport Tagg. Sister Alkanet waited until they were ready to set off and then pulled Skipper to one side.
"I'm surprised that a creature like you still believes in that old relic and her mumbo jumbo of spells and charms. Shame on you! Though I'll be even more surprised if Deyna returns alive. How could you raise the hopes of Filorn and Mhera on stories and tales like that?"
Skipper winked at the Sister. "Maybe I'll surprise you again before too long, marm. Take care!"
Nimbalo joined the otter crew. Skipper looked inquiringly at the battle-axe-wielding harvest mouse. "Belay, mate, where d'you think yore off to?"
The little fellow nodded at the litter. "Wherever me matey goes, that's where I'm off to. Any objections?"
Skipper was very tactful in dealing with the truculent mouse. "I can't stop ye, 'specially since yore the one they calls the Slayer. But this ole otterfixer, Rukky Garge, if she sees anybeast that ain't an otter hangin' about her den, she'll turn us away. No matter wot condition yore matey's in."
Nimbalo's face was the picture of dejection. His lip quivered. "But me'n'Tagg's always been together. Wot'll I do without 'im? We stuck by each other through thick'n'thin, an' now yore goin' to take me matey away. Wot'll I do 'ere, all on me own?"
Mhera's heart went out to Nimbalo. She took his paw. "Wait here at the Abbey with us. You'll like it, I'm sure. It's like being part of a big happy family."
Unknowingly, Mhera had mentioned the wrong word. Nimbalo growled. "Don't talk t'me about families. I ain't part of no family!"
Skipper and his crew slipped quietly off with Tagg, leaving Mhera to practice her diplomacy on the irate harvest mouse. Tactfully, Filorn stepped into the breach.
"I never met a warrior yet who wasn't hungry. Come to the kitchens with me, Nimbalo the Slayer. Let's see what I can find for you. Redwall food is the best anywhere, come on."
Boorab, who had been gently nodding off, came awake at the mention of food. "Ahem, charmin' an' kindly marm, permission to accompany you, wot."
Filorn was never less than gracious to her friend the hare. "Why, of course, sir, you are cordially invited."
Mhera went to sit on Cregga's bed. It had been impossible to carry the wounded badger upstairs, so mattresses had been laid for her beneath the tapestry of Martin, and she lay propped up on them. Sensing Mhera's approach, the Badgermum smiled weakly. "Your mama could charm the birds from the trees. That little harvest mouse doesn't know it, but he's got all the qualities of a Redwaller. You must help to make him happy here, Mhera."
The ottermaid plumped up her friend's pillows. "You mean we must help to make him happy here, Cregga."
The badger stroked Mhera's cheek. "Maybe, if I'm still around, but nobeast lives forever."
Mhera sniffed and straightened the coverlet busily. "Now you can just stop that sort of talk, silly old badger. Deyna's going to get well and so are you. I won't listen to any morbid rambling ab"
Cregga put out a searching paw. "Mhera, what is it? What's the matter?"
The ottermaid held a green strip of cloth close to Cregga's muzzle. "It's one of those pieces of material. Faded green, homespun and scented with lilac. I found it just now, in the folds of your bedspread. I wonder who put it there. Do you know?"
Cregga shook her great striped head slowly. "A blind creature who can hardly move, with a deep painful wound. How am I supposed to know anything? What does it say?"
Mhera read the crude vertical capitals written on the fabric. "FITTAGALL. Oh, dear. What's it all supposed to mean, Cregga?"
A lot of Redwallers joined Nimbalo and Boorab in the kitchens, as there had been no proper meals served, owing to the day's unusual events. Friar Bobb and Filorn aided by Broggle and Fwirl (now much recovered) managed a good makeshift buffet. Nimbalo sampled everything, from soup to desserts. Filorn sat down with him, encouraging the harvest mouse as he ate.
"I'm sure you've got lots of wonderful tales of the adventures you and Deyna had together. Perhaps you could tell us some? Here, let me fill your tankard with October Ale."
Nimbalo was suddenly in his element: lots of good food and drink, and an attentive audience. He shovelled turnip'n'tater'n'beetroot pie into his mouth and washed it down with a huge draft of the best October Ale.
"Aaaahhhh! That's the stuff t'give yer muscles like boulders, marm. Thankee. Now, where was I? Oh aye. Tagg, that's Deyna, an' me was surrounded by snakes one time."
Foremole Brull shuddered. "Burr, surrpints. Oi carn't aboide ee gurt snakey beasters!"
The harvest mouse gave her his reckless nonchalant grin. "Snakes, marm? Me'n'Deyna was never afeared of 'em!" He rose and swaggered about outrageously.
"There was one time me'n'my mate,
We nearly met our fate,
One dark night, midst a storm,
Just to keep us dry an' warm,
We found a cave an' a cheer we gave,
We rushed in straightaway,
'Twas full of snakes, for goodness' sakes,
All silvery black an' grey.
There was big snakes, small snakes,
Every one was wide awake,
Wrigglin' an' a-hissin' there,
Tongues a-flickerin', tails a-snickerin',
Enough t'curl yore blinkin' hair.
One bit me so I bit it back,
An' my mate gave one such a whack!
We fought the serpents tooth'n'claw,
For every one we slayed there was a dozen more.
Then my ole mate, he took two sticks,
An' in the space of two short ticks,
We grabbed those snakes, me'n'my chum,
An' knitted them up into an apron for his mum,
Chuck one, hurl one, knit one, purl one,
We never went there again,
Don't try to sleep, where the snakes are tummy deep,
Take a snooze out in the rain!"
Nimbalo took a bow amidst the applause and roars of laughter. Boorab presented him with a damson cream pie.
"Top hole, sah. You're a born weaver of yarns, wot. Try some of Friar Bobb's damson cream pie. Bet y've never tasted anythin' as scrumptious as that, wot. Wot wot, hawhawhaw!"
Nimbalo bit into it and smacked his lips. "Thankee. It's good, very nice, but tell me, did ye ever taste a snakeyfish pie?"
The hare looked at him aghast. "Snakeyfish pie, sir? What in the name o' puddens is that? You haven't eaten one yourself, have you, old chap?"
Nimbalo winked at the horrified listeners. "Ye wouldn't believe me if'n I told yer!"
Chapter 31
Tendrils of blue smoke curled through the trees of south Mossflower Wood, wreathing upward from a fire of dead pinecones and fir branches on the rocky ledge of a riverbank. Skipper stirred the contents of a big pot, set on a tripod over the flames. He tasted it and waved his rudder.
"Swash, bring more watershrimp. Blekker, chop more 'otroot an' peppers, an' sliver some o' them scallions in with it!"
The two sturdy otter sisters, Swash and Blekker, brought the ingredients to him and watched as he stirred them into the pot of freshwater shrimp and hotroot soup. Skipper held out the ladle to the pair, proud of his cooking prowess.