An’ Dad’s nailed up the door, wot a lovely welcome
home,
from a family so kind an’ sweet an’ warm!
Pick ’em up laddie buck! Put ’em down laddie buck!
You’ve made it home an’ now you’re out of luck, out of
luck!”
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.”
Click here for more books by this author
Epilogue
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?
