Broggle yawned. "Aye, it gives me a floaty feeling when it's thick all around me."
Boorab snorted. "Fiddlededee, laddie buck, y've never been in a real pea souper of a fog. I remember one time I got caught in a fog so bally thick I had t'cut my way out with a knife, wot!"
Nimbalo loomed up like a small blanketed ghost and sat with them. "Huh, that's nothin'. I was in a mountain fog once, they're the worst kind, couldn't see me paw behind me back, or me tail if'n I looked forward. 'Twas so thick I saw a frog walkin' on it!"
A voice spoke from behind Nimbalo. "Mountain fogs are mere wisps compared to a good marsh fog. When I was younger we used to go out looking for marsh fogs, they were so thick and soft. I'd take my needles with me and knit them into blankets for the infirmary!"
The speaker came forward. Wide-eyed with astonishment, the friends sat staring at Sister Alkanet. The stern Infirmary Keeper was smiling. Filorn opened her blanket for Alkanet to share.
"Hahaha. Well done, Sister, you've certainly stopped those two fibbers in their tracks. Blankets for the infirmary, eh? Hahaha!"
Foremole Brull shuffled up, tiny dewdrops forming on her velvety fur. They twinkled in the firelight. "Yurr cumm ee sun. Fog's be a-liften naow."
Within a short space of time it was a soft autumn morning. Warm breezes took faded leaves from the trees, drifting them down to earth. Swallows swirled and soared in patterned flights beneath a clear sky of powdered blue. Gundil took a fallen sycamore seedpod and spun it into the air on its two perfectly shaped wings. Mhera stood between the battlements, watching the woodland fringe and flatlands skirting the path to the south. Blekker stood by her side, leaning on her javelin. Mhera sighed impatiently. "When do you think Deyna will come?"
The big otter squinted her left eye against the sun. "Sorry, Abbess marm, can't say for certain. When ole Rukky Garge said it'd be the time that russet apples fall, she was only sayin' it as a rough guide. Could be another two or three days. Friar's servin' brekkist, marm. Why don't ye go an' eat? I'll keep watch 'ere. Go on, liddle Abbess, y'look tired."
Mhera clenched her paws in frustration. "Oh, if there were only some way to make him come back!" "Ye could try singin' them 'ome!"
Mhera was puzzled by old Hoarg's remark. "What d'you mean, singing them home?"
The old dormouse took a sip of his morning dandelion tea. "It always seemed t'work when I was a liddle 'un. We often stood on the walls and sang to bring travelers safe 'ome."
Blekker and Swash agreed with Hoarg.
"Aye, marm, otters believe in 'ome singin'."
"Skipper said it always works. Try it, Abbess marm. We'll sing the verses if'n you an' yore Redwallers 'elp out on the choruses!"
A smile spread gradually on the young Abbess's face. "What a lovely idea. Listen, you Redwallers, we're all going to join in and help sing my brother home."
Everybeast agreed, with only one exception. Boorab. "I say, bit thick isn't it? I've waited all flippin' night for a bite o' breakfast. Now I've just been served, what've I got to do, eh, wot? Abandon my scoff an' start tra-la-laain' away to some chap who won't even jolly well hear it. Blinkin' liberty if y'ask me, wot, wot wot?"
Mhera tried imitating Sister Alkanet's famous frosty glare. "Sir, you may do as you please. Fill your face by all means, but if you do not join in the singing I will have you barred from the kitchens henceforth. Take note of my decree, Friar Bobb!"
The good Friar nodded vigorously. "Noted, Mother Abbess!"
Boorab cast aside his plate and beaker. "Steady on, chaps, confounded blackmailers ... er, I mean, lovely day for a bit of an old warble, wot. Count me in. You otters there, what're you waitin' for, eh? Sing away, me buckos. Sing!"
Blekker and Swash, together with the other otters Skipper had sent back to the Abbey, lined up. After a bit of throat clearing they went at it lustily.
"When will you return me darlin', are you homeward bound?
See the golden sun a-smilin', warmin' up the ground,
Here I stand an' wait me beauty, though 'tis gettin' late,
Listenin' for the weary paws, a-marchin' to my gate.
What if the sky goes dark! Well, I'll light for you a lamp!
So I'll see you comin' dear. Tramp! Tramp! Tramp!
Are the drums a-beatin' bravely, o'er the lonely moor?
Are ye thinkin' of your mother, standin' at the door?
Do the banners stream out boldly, have the days been long?
Are you marchin' down the road, listenin' for my song?
What if the sky goes dark! Well, I'll light for you a lamp!
So I'll see you comin' dear. Tramp! Tramp! Tramp!
Is that a dusty cloud arisin', out across the plain?
Is that me bonny rover now, come back to me again?
O Grandma turn the blankets down, an' put the kettle on,
I've sung him home, no more to roam, my only one.
What if the sky goes dark! Well, I'll light for you a lamp!
So I'll see you comin' dear. Tramp! Tramp! Tramp!"
Everybeast enjoyed the song so much, they called for more. Mhera and Broggle picked up the verses as well as the chorus. They stood with the otters, singing out for all they were worth. Behind them, the Dibbuns led a march, backward and forward along the south ramparts, making a great show of shouting tramps aloud at the end of each chorus. Halfway through the third rendition, Nimbalo pulled Boorab out of line. The harvest mouse whispered to the hare, pointing south, to where the woodland jutted out in the distance to connect with the winding path. Mhera watched Nimbalo scramble up onto Boorab's shoulders. He held on to Boorab's ear with one paw, gesturing out with the other, then he started shouting. Filorn saw it too, and had a quick word with Blekker. The otter halted the singing, howling out in her stentorian baritone, "They're on the path! Comin' thisaway! I told ye it'd work!"
Boorab lifted Nimbalo down and took charge. "Well, what'n the name o' sizzlin' seasons have y'stopped singin' for, eh? Don't want to break the jolly old magic spell, do you? Hoarg, get down an' open the gates. Throw wide your portals, old lad. The rest o' you ditherin' duffers form up behind me. Jump to it, now! We'll march down the road singin' to meet 'em, by the left, right'n'center we will, wot wot!"
Boorab sidestepped into the gatehouse, but he soon caught up with the singing marchers. He carried a banner made from an old tablecloth tied around a long window pole. Swaggering along jauntily, the hare was in his element, bellowing aloud, "Anybeast with a frog in their throat, let the frog do the singin'. Hawhawhaw! C'mon now, let's rip the roof off . . .
"What if the sky goes dark! Well, I'll light for you a lamp!
So I'll see you comin' dear. Tramp! Tramp! Tramp!"
The ottercrew coming the other way saw the Redwall singing parade and doubled their march speed. Then they were trotting, and the pace hotted up even more, until they were running to meet the welcoming committee. Not to be outdone, Boorab waved his banner and yelled out orders.
"Look at 'em go! Hah, we'll see who meets who first, chaps. If it's a bally charge they want, we're the ones who'll show 'em. Lay back the kitchen sink! Forward the buffs! Blood'n'vinegar an' flyin' fur! Eulaliaaa! Redwallers chaaaaaaaarge!"
They thundered down the path in a headlong stampede, and Boorab was knocked flying into the ditch. But even the fastest of runners were not as fleet of paw as Mhera and Filorn upon that day. The pair were well out in front, hurtling toward the ottercrew charging up from the south. Way out in front of them was one, a big strong figure who could outrun the wind. Filorn could see the dust pluming in his wake, Mhera could even hear his footpaws slamming the hard earth as he streaked toward them like summer lightning. They screamed together. "Deynaaaaaaaa!"
He swept them up as though they weighed nothing and ground to a halt, hugging them both close. Then Nimbalo pounded up like a small juggernaut. Unable to stop himself, he bulled straight into Deyna, Mhera and Filorn, sending himself and them sprawling in a heap together. Instantly they found themselves surrounded by other Redwallers. Then they began to laugh, as happiness flowed from them, infecting everybeast. They laughed until the tears ran down their dusty faces, hugging one another as if they would never let go. The laughter rose into the air, startling birds in the soft autumn morning.