Mhera felt a wave of affection for her old friend. "Gundil, I'm sorry I haven't had much time with you lately."
The mole rubbed his downy head against her sleeve. "You'm been gurtly busied, bein' ee Muther h'Abbess an' suchloike. But us'n's gotten lots o' toimes agether in ee seasons t'cumm."
Mhera spread the blanket so they could both sit on it. "So we have, my friend. What's that you've got there?"
Gundil produced Abbess Song's book, with the strips of green cloth wrapped around it, and held it out to the ottermaid. "Oi bain't no gudd at ee readen, Muther h'Abbess. Do ee read owt o' ee likkle book furr oi. Uz molers dearly do luvvs to 'ear ee readen."
Mhera laid the fabric strips next to each other on the parapet before she opened the book. "Right, where do you want me to start from? Oh, and stop calling me mother. Call me Mhera or miz, like you always did."
The mole's face crinkled into a deep grin. "As ee wishen, miz. Start ee frumm th' burginnin'!"
Mhera began to read. "I, Song, daughter of Janglur Swifteye and Mother Abbess of Redwall, do leave these thoughts of mine to be read by the creature who is chosen to rule the Abbey in my stead.
"Humility Is The Thing A Good Abbey Leader Learns.
Patience Is The Thing A Good Abbey Leader Learns.
Wisdom Is The Thing A Good Abbey Leader Learns.
Understanding Is The Thing A Good Abbey Leader Learns.
Friendliness Is The Thing A Good Abbey Leader Learns.
Strength Is The Thing A Good Abbey Leader Learns."
Mhera tweaked Gundil's digging claws playfully. "They're all in here, the ITTAGALLs, Courage, Compassion, Fairness, Decision... you don't want me to carry on reading them all, do you?"
Gundil tweaked Mhera's paw back, but very gently, because his digging claws were so blunt and powerful. "Burr nay, miz, jus' ee larst wun. Oi loikes that 'un!"
Mhera turned to the back of the book and read the rough untidy scrawl, which contrasted sharply with the other neat script. "I Choose Mhera As The Ottermaid To Rule Our Abbey."
From where they were sitting the gravestone below was visible. Mhera smiled at it fondly. "Imagine the time it must have taken for a blind badger to write that, Gundil. Granted the writing isn't as tidy as Abbess Song's, but Cregga Badgermum did it all right. Look here." She unfolded one last length of fabric from her robe sleeve. ICMATOTROA was scrawled upon it in identical writing to that in the book. "It was the last piece I was supposed to find. This was wrapped around the book the night she gave it to me at the feast. There there now, my friend, don't weep. Cregga wouldn't like to think that she made you unhappy."
Gundil tried bravely to blink away the large teardrops falling from his eyes. "Oi know, miz, but Creggamum wurr such a guddbeast. Oi misses hurr!"
Rukky Garge and Skipper sat by the stream's edge. The old otterfixer tapped her knobbly stick on a boulder.
"Ahhhrrr weel now, Deyna bigbeast, sit ye here by mah side." Deyna did as she ordered, holding still as she pushed and scratched at his face. She consulted Skipper. "Prithee, frien', what say ye now, eh?"
Skipper took Deyna's face in both paws, peering at it closely. "Rukky me ole queen, I wouldn't believe it if'n I didn't see it with me own two eyes. Not a tattoo mark on 'is face. 'Tis a miracle ye've worked!"
The ancient otter blushed like a maiden. "Heeheehee! Show unto yon riverdog yeer paw, Deyna."
Holding forth his right paw, Deyna allowed Skipper to look at it. There was no sign of a flowered birthmark. The pad was totally dark. Skipper scratched his rudder in disbelief. "Well, blow me down to port an' sink me whiskers. 'Ow did she do it, Deyna matey?"
The former Taggerung stared at the paw. "I don't know, Skip. I was asleep most of the time, but in the moments I was awake it burned like fire, my face too."
Rukky smacked her stick down across Deyna's paw. "Ahrra weel, good now though, mah beauty, no feels of hurt?"
Deyna clapped his paws together hard. "None!"
She struck him in the chest with her stick, right where the arrowhead had been. He did not flinch. Rukky gave a toothless grin. "Ayaah, when Rukky Garge fixes otters, they fixed good!" She pointed out a big boulder. "Dat wun!"
Deyna strode across to it. Wrapping his paws around the large smooth granite rock, he picked it up and flung it into the center of the stream. The spray splattered wide. Rukky Garge wiped her face on her cloak and nodded at the stream. "You strong, riverdog, stroooong! Now bring d'stone back out!"
Deyna dived headfirst into the stream, cutting the water like a pike on the hunt. He appeared in midstream, grasping the boulder, and swam back to the bank with it. Rukky made him perform the feat three more times before she was satisfied. Then she allowed him to make his way back and sit by her, breathing lightly. Skipper slapped him heartily on the back.
"If'n I told anybeast about that they'd never believe me, bucko!"
Rukky tapped the otter Chieftain with her staff. "You make de good soup, mah frien'. Now let dis Deyna make some for us, see wot it be tastin' like, eh?"
Deyna made a cauldron of fresh watershrimp and hotroot soup for them, and then Rukky indicated that he too could share it. They sat eating in silence until it was all gone. Skipper smacked his lips and patted his stomach. "Well, mates?"
Rukky Garge and Deyna answered together. "Not as good as yours!"
Skipper's craggy face lit up with pleasure. "Y'took the words right outta me mouth. Though it was passin' fair, for a beginner. Well, Rukky me ole charmer, I got to get our mate back 'ome to his sister an' mama."
Deyna put a paw around the otterfixer's shoulder affectionately. "Thank you, Rukky. I owe you my life!"
She stiffened and shook his paw off. "Don'ta touch me, riverdog! Ah not like bein' touch by anybeast. Go ye to de cave, take back yeer blade an' get from me sight!" Deyna stood up, a hurt expression on his face. The ancient otter rapped his rudder with her stick and cackled. "Heeheehee! But come ye back when ye learns to make der soup better'n Skip. Rukky be pleased ter see ye den!"
Two days and three nights had passed for the watchers on the wall top. By now they had been joined by everybeast except the Friar and his duty cooks. They took turns at night, some watching whilst others slept. Drogg Cellarhog brought a fireholder up to the ramparts and mulled ale with spices in it to keep up their spirits and to ward off the chill of autumn nights and dawns. They sang many songs and recalled lots of old poems and monologues to while away the time. The Dibbuns thought it was a wonderful holiday, even though they were guarded by Sister Alkanet, who had roped them together. "I don't trust these little rogues on high walltops!" She said it until everybeast grew tired of the phrase and the Dibbuns paraded around, linked together, singing impudently.
"Don't trus' us likkle rogues on walltops,
It be sad when a pore ole Dibbun falls,
Fall on yore 'ead an' die, then you start t'cry,
That's wot 'appen to likkle ones on walls!"
They finally gave up when Abbess Mhera threatened them with bath and bed, and Friar Bobb brought them warm mushroom soup to drink.
Fwirl and Broggle sat with Filorn and Boorab. They had drawn the last watch of the third night. Drogg's fireholder was close by, and they sat wrapped in blankets, talking softly. Several times Boorab had volunteered to go down and work in the kitchens. His requests being refused made him rather sulky.
"Pish tush t'the blinkin' kitchens I say, wot. Measly fat little Friar chasin' the tail off a chap: keep your paws out o' this and don't dare touch that, leave those measly flippin' pasties alone, get y'nose out of that pudden. Yah boo to them says I, wot? I say, any of you bounders know when they'll be bringin' a spot of brekkers around? The old turn's gurglin' away like a drain!"
Somewhere a bird twittered, and the first pale milky light showed, reflecting eerily back off the mist. Fwirl wrapped her blanket tightly and scooted nearer the fire. "Isn't it strange being up here in autumn mist?"