High Rhulain

Skipper picked up the volume, watching the sprightly Snowdrop skipping up the Abbey steps. “Stan’ on me rudder, there goes a bossy liddle marm, an’ no mistake. I wonder would she like a servant?”

Girry chuckled ruefully. “She’s already hired one. Me! But we wouldn’t have got this far without her.”

Lycian began helping Burbee to clear away the tea things. “That’s a kind observation, Girry. We’d all do well to remember it. Come on, young Tribsy, you can carry this teapot.”

Supper was held in Great Hall for the main body of Redwallers. After saying grace, Abbess Lycian requested that a separate meal be served in Cavern Hole for the riddle solvers. Though smaller, Cavern Hole was more cosy, with armchairs and cushioned wall ledges. It was also well lit by lanterns, and a fire burned in the hearth. Friar Bibble and his assistants set up a buffet for Tiria and her friends. The meal included a long chestnut and apple plait with a crispy golden crust, bean and scallion soup and summer salad. The dessert was a batch of redcurrant tarts with meadowcream. There was cherry cordial to drink, plus the obligatory pot of tea for Lycian and Burbee.

Old Quelt put in an appearance, happily roused by the discovery of the Geminya Tome. He and Snowdrop took it off to a moss-padded niche. Ignoring the company, they set to work on an eager study of the book.

Not wanting to disturb the avid scholars, Tiria and her father, joined by Brinty, Tribsy, Girry, Lycian, Burbee and Brink, sat in an opposite corner, discussing the ottermaid’s forthcoming journey to the as-yet-mysterious Green Isle. Brink was most concerned about a boat for the voyage.

Once again, the helpful Abbess had an idea to propose. “Skipper, you and Brink were close to the watermeadow in Mossflower Wood yesterday. I’m fairly certain that the Guosim shrews meet there for their midsummer festival around this time. Do you think they might be there now?”

Banjon perked up considerably. “Wot would we do without ye, Mother Abbess! Me’n’Brink’ll set out for the watermeadow first thing tomorrer. If’n my ole mate Log a Log Urfa is there, he’ll soon sort a boat out for that gel o’ mine!”

Tribsy took his snout out of a soup bowl long enough to enquire, “Wot bee’s a Guosim an’ a Log a Log Urfa, zurr?”

The Abbess explained patiently to the young mole. “Guosim are our shrew friends. Each letter of their name stands for what they are: Guerilla Union Of Shrews In Mossflower. Guosim! Their chieftain is called the Log a Log. Skipper, I never knew that Log a Log Urfa was a friend of yours.”

Banjon cut himself a slice of the wholesome-looking plait. “Oh aye, marm, that ’e was, though it was afore you was Abbess. We was young buckoes t’gether. I sailed many a stream with Urfa before they chose ’im as a Log a Log.”

Tiria helped herself to a tart. “And you think he’ll help me to get a boat, Skip?”

Her father winked broadly at her. “Urfa don’t forget ’is ole mates. You’ll see, gel!”

Burbee poured more tea for herself and Lycian. “Hurr, that bee’s if’n Miz Tiria doan’t get too h’old to sail ee boat, boi ee gurt toime they’m scholarybeasts taken to solve ee riggle!”

Girry called over to Quelt and Snowdrop, “Well, have you two found anything in that old book yet?”

Without looking up, the old Recorder answered, “Yes, it seems we have, young ’un.”

Girry’s tail rose stiffly, a sure sign of indignation in squirrelfolk. “Well, thanks a lot for not telling us!”

The Abbess reproved him instantly. “Girry, don’t be so rude to your elders! We must make allowances for old scholars. They don’t see things as we do.”

She turned politely to Old Quelt and his assistant. “Pardon me, but would it be possible to see what you’ve discovered, please?”

Between them the pair carried the open book over. Sister Snowdrop tapped the page. “Right here you will see two references concerning the information you seek. However, we have yet to solve them. Girry, perhaps you’d like to read the first clue out.”

The young squirrel read aloud from the Geminya Tome.

“Linger sure for the lee,

I set my trick carefully,

my home lies o’er the sea,

you’ll find the title names me . . . Is.”

The ancient Recorder Librarian peered over his glasses. “Personally, I think Sister Geminya was only doodling, but you’ll find that out, if you’ve wit enough. Well, can any of you bright creatures throw some light on it?”

They stared at the four lines a while, then Brinty spoke. “I think it’s telling us to discover a name. Right, sir?”

Old Quelt shrugged. “Don’t ask me, my brain is old and slow. Try having confidence in your own judgement.”

Girry chimed in. “I think Brinty’s right. We’re looking for the name of somebeast, agreed?”

Sister Snowdrop adjusted her glasses. “That much is fairly obvious, but where among the lines of the poem do we begin to look?”

Skipper, who was studying the rhyme intently, spoke without taking his eyes from the page. “I think I know, Sister. I’ve read this thing through six times now. Most of it makes sense, all except one line.”