[Redwall 18] - High Rhulain (46 page)

Deedero put aside the knife, wiping her paws on her apron. “Wot've I told ye about shoutin', Toobil? I ain't deaf!”

Toobil climbed up on her lap and whispered in her ear, “I sayed Daddie's comin' 'ome, wiv lots h'of uthers.”

Picking the babe up, Deedero stowed him sideways on her hip and shuffled off through the watery curtain. “Hmph, he must've smelt my shrimp'n'hotroot soup cookin'. Come on then, let's go an' meet him.”

They joined the other families heading for the ledge.

It was an odd but rousing sight. A barnacle goose, twoscore and five hares in regimental rigout, countless clanbeasts and freed slave families, and Tiria, in her full regalia, being carried at their centre, seated on a chair made of spearhafts and javelins. The situation was made more incongruous still: Everybeast was singing lustily, a barrack-room ballad which had been taught to them by Porters and Quarters, the two young subalterns. Some ottermums took the precaution of covering the ears of their babes, though a few elders marched alongside of them, chuckling aloud.

Colour Sergeant O'Cragg and Big Kolun (who fancied the idea of being an officer) roared out together in fine parade-ground manner, “Regiment . . . wait for it! . . . Haaaaalt!”

Everybeast stamped to a perfect halt. Big Kolun swelled out his chest. “H'otterclans . . . dismiss!”

Colour Sergeant O'Cragg came next. “Long Patrol... dismiss!”

Clanbeasts ran to be reunited with their families. There was widespread backslapping, hugging and kissing. The freed slaves were welcomed cordially. Otters began crowding around Tiria, each wanting to shake the paw of their High Queen, the Rhulain of Green Isle.

Kolun, still struck by the thought of becoming an officer, introduced Tiria to his missus. “Milady, h'allow me to present my h'enchantin' wife, Deedero!”

The big homely ottermum stared at her husband strangely. “Why are ye talkin' like that, for goodness sakes?”

Kolun stood smartly to attention and saluted Deedero. “Because, h'o jewel h'of my 'eart, h'I'm a h'officer now.”

Deedero passed him the babe to carry. “Ye great windbag, keep talkin' like that t'me, an' I'll bend a ladle round yore rudder.”

She hugged Tiria and kissed her cheek. “Welcome to Holt Summerdell, Yore Majesty. 'Tis a rare pleasure to have ye here. Ye'll be stayin' to dinner I hope?”

Tiria chuckled. “I'll be staying here for lots of dinners. This is my home now.”

 

To the Mother Abbess of Redwall Abbey,

From the High Rhulain of Green Isle

My Dearest Friend Lycian,

It is now eight seasons since Brantalis landed at Redwall and marked the start of my quest. What an adventure it has been—from simple Abbeymaid to Queen!

Sometimes I just sit back and enjoy the feeling of being High Rhulain.

Brantalis continues to serve us well. He is fiercely proud of his twin titles, “Queen's Courier” and “Official Messenger to Redwall Abbey,” though I think our goose only takes on the tasks because he enjoys all the attention and feeding he receives at either end of his journey, carrying our letters.

Let me tell you some of what has taken place since I came to Green Isle (I am sure the Redwall Recorder will want all the details).

Holt Summerdell is now our pride and joy. What ruler ever had such good and faithful friends to serve her, with the exception of you at Redwall. My otterclans have now restored everything to its former glory. The terraces and ledges are a profusion of fruit, vegetables and flowers. Our gardeners make sure we want for nothing.

My Water Bailiffs, Whulky and Chab, tend to the ponds and rapids, so our little ones can play there from dawn to dusk in safety. Holt Summerdell is always filled with the sounds of song and the laughter of otterbabes, which to my mind is the sweetest of all.

Big Kolun Galedeep's missus, Deedero, has supervised the restoration of our big cave. Now we have proper dormitories, a wonderful dining hall, extensive kitchens, even a wine cellar. Deedero is not so much an ottermum as a force of nature. I have never seen a creature so full of boundless energy and enthusiasm. I would be lost without Deedero and Banya Streamdog as my constant companions. We take tea together (just like you and molemum Burbee). Between us we plan and discuss everything from feasting to harvesting.

At the moment, we are designing uniform tunics for our clan warriors. Leatho Shellhound, Big Kolun and the clan leaders were so impressed by the tactics and discipline of the Long Patrol. They learned a lot from the hares before they returned to their mountain—mainly that constant vigilance and alertness will keep our isle free from foebeasts and the threat of conquering warlords. At the clan meeting, they voted unanimously to form the Green Clan Regiment.

So, I think Green Isle is now safe, with Leatho and the Green Clan Regiment to protect our shores—even though Kolun Galedeep and certain comrades of his have adopted harespeech! Banya and I have to laugh when Deedero says, “If'n that great lump and his mates come into supper wot-wotting and pip-pipping and callin' me ole gel, I'll bend a ladle over their rudders!”

Well, Lycian, that is all of my news for this season—apart from the fact that we begin planning our Autumn Pool Festival, but I'll tell you more of that in my next letter. By the way, can you ask my dad and Brink how they made those coloured water lanterns? You remember them from when we had a Harvest Feast around the Abbey pond.

Tell me, how are my dad and Brink and all my dear friends at the Abbey? Some of those Dibbuns must be growing into young ones now, Grumby, Taggle, Irgle and Ralg. Do they still remember me?

Sometimes I feel sad when I think of Redwall and poor young Brinty. I've never seen his resting place, but I'd love to visit it. How are Girry and Tribsy and Friar Bibble? I'll wager Sister Snowdrop hasn't changed a hair nor old Friar Quelt. And you, Lycian, the youngest, prettiest and wisest Abbess Redwall has ever seen. I hope you know I learned a lot from just watching you when I was an Abbeymaid. When I am facing a problem, I always ask myself, “How would Lycian have dealt with this?” Happily, I can tell you I haven't put a paw wrong thus far!

I must finish now. Queenly affairs calling me away, you know. Don't let that barnacle goose stuff himself until he can't fly. Send him back with a nice long letter to me.

Your lifelong friend,

Tiria

P.S. Don't forget about the coloured water lanterns. Tell Dad and Brink I need them soon!

P.P.S. Could you also ask Brink to send the recipe for October Ale? It's for our Brew Otter, Birl Gully. He makes something called Gullyplug Punch, and it's far too strong!

Love, Tiria

 

To the High Rhulain of Green Isle

From Lycian, Mother Abbess of Redwall Abbey

Dearest Tiria,

I take quill in paw to thank you for your informative letter. Well, my friend, things seem to be thriving in your Queendom. (It is Queendom, isn't it? Anyway, I like the sound of that title.)

So you'll soon have your own army, the Green Clan Regiment no less! It all sounds so exciting. I was going to add that I'd love to see it, but more of that later.

Your Banya and Deedero seem real treasures. There's nothing like having faithful friends around you, is there? Tiria, you are really fortunate in having such a wonderful life. Enjoy it, my friend, you richly deserve all the good things in your life!

Now let me tell you my news. Old Quelt has expressed a desire to retire, so his duties are to be split: Little Sister Snowdrop will be our new Librarian, and your friend Girry is to be Recorder of Redwall Abbey. I've no need to tell you he is delighted at the prospect. Who would have thought that Girry had a yearning for the scholarly life?

As for that rogue Tribsy, he doesn't know it yet but Foremole Grudd wants Tribsy to succeed him when he retires from being mole chieftain this winter. Molemum Burbee confided this to me over a pot of tea yesterday afternoon, requesting that I not speak of it to anybeast at Redwall. So I'm not speaking, I am writing! Besides, you're not at Redwall at the moment.

Enclosed with this scroll you'll find a letter from your dad and Brink, which includes the directions for making the coloured water lanterns that you requested.

After you told me in your first letter about poor Pandion, I relayed the sad news to your dad and Brink. They have made him a beautiful little monument, right alongside Brinty's resting place. I visit Brinty and read him your letters, you know. I also picked out a special stone for Brinty, just as you told me to. We must never forget our brave friends, ever!

So, Tiria Wildlough, on to my surprise news (I've been keeping the best for last)! Recently I met some old friends of yours—a whole group in fact of Long Patrol hares! Captain Rafe Granden, Colour Sergeant O'Cragg, Corporal Drubblewick, Quarters and Porters (Aren't those two an absolute hoot?) and more besides. They came marching up in their smart red tunics, armed to the teeth and ravenous as a horde of wild beasts. They were bearing with them a lengthy scroll from Lord Mandoral himself. Every creature at Redwall was delighted with its tidings. The Badger Lord of Salamandastron had written to inform me that he is now the owner of two ships: One is the
Purloined Petunia
(which you already told me of); the other is over twice its size, a three-masted vessel which, to use Lord Mandoral's phrase, “was liberated from certain seascum not worthy to walk its decks.” It is now renamed the
Fearless Frunk!

Next spring, both ships will anchor in the River Moss under the command of captains Quartle and Porter. From there they will sail for Salamandastron and thence, after a suitable visit, they sail for Green Isle! And guess what? I have been requested to select threescore of our Redwallers to sail with them! So, Your Majesty, be sure to have your regiments watching the coasts of Green Isle in late spring! We are coming!

Now, may I invite you and any of your friends you wish to accompany you to visit us for a full summer season? You also may bring along your brewbeast, Mr. Gully. Brink will teach him to brew fine October Ale. We will feast, we will sing, we will talk and laugh together.

Hares from Salamandastron, otters from Green Isle, and Redwallers will meet here in comradeship and peace. For you know, my dear friend, the gates of Redwall Abbey in Mossflower Country are always open to all good hearts, young and old.

Fondly yours,

Abbess Lycian

REDWALL
MOSSFLOWER
MATTIMEO
MARIEL OF REDWALL
SALAMANDASTRON
MARTIN THE WARRIOR
THE BELLMAKER
OUTCAST OF REDWALL
PEARLS OF LUTRA
THE LONG PATROL
MARLFOX
THE LEGEND OF LUKE
LORD BROCKTREE
TAGGERUNG
TRISS
LOAMHEDGE
RAKKETY TAM
HIGH RHULAIN
CASTAWAYS OF THE FLYING DUTCHMAN
THE ANGEL'S COMMAND
VOYAGE OF SLAVES
THE GREAT REDWALL FEAST
A REDWALL WINTER'S TALE
SEVEN STRANGE AND GHOSTLY TALES
THE RIBBAJACK
THE TALE OF URSO BRUNOV
THE TRIBES OF REDWALL: BADGERS
THE TRIBES OF REDWALL: OTTERS
THE TRIBES OF REDWALL: MICE

 

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