High Rhulain

Quite a bit of muffled laughter broke out among the oarcrew, but they gratefully shipped oars whilst Cuthbert, aided by the fat Corporal Drubblewick, frantically shortened the mainsail to decrease the vessel’s speed. With Tiria at the bowsprit calling directions and Cuthbert manning the tiller skillfully, they charted a course between rocks and reefs. The Purloined Petunia made a stately landfall, her keel crunching into the pebbled shallows.

Even before they had dropped anchor, the main body of the crew made an eager stampede for the side, everybeast wanting to be first ashore. Cuthbert suddenly cast off his maritime coat and reverted to his role of Major Blanedale Frunk. However, it was only with the timely assistance of Captain Rafe Granden and Colour Sergeant O’Cragg that the Long Patrol were stopped from disembarking and wading ashore. The roars of the three officers froze the crew in their tracks.

“Stand fast there, ye mutinous mob. Come to attention all of ye!”

“Yew ’eard the h’offisah, stan’ fast! Just twitch h’an ear, laddie buck, h’an yore h’on a bloomin’ fizzer!”

“Steady in the ranks, pay ’tenshun to the Major now!”

Cuthbert strode the deck, glaring through his monocle. “Lady Tiria, Cap’n Granden, Sarn’t O’Cragg an’ my goodself are goin’ ashore. We’ll form the advance guard in case of attack. Subalterns Quartle an’ Portan will drop anchor an’ furl sails. Corporal Drubblewick an’ the cookin’ detail will follow us ashore to light a fire an’ ready up some vittles. The rest of ye, form a chain from ship to shore, an’ bring all supplies’n’arms to land safe’n’dry, an’ in good order. Whilst you are on yonder island, you’ll conduct yourselves like Long Patrol hares. Right, stan’ easy, dismiss, an’ attend to your duties!”

As the hares went about their tasks with military efficiency, Tiria wandered a little way up the beach. She climbed upon a rock and stared around. So this was the fabled Green Isle, she thought, the home of her distant ancestors. This was actually where the High Queen Rhulain had once ruled.

Colour Sergeant O’Cragg marched up and came smartly to attention. “Major Frunk’s compliments, miss. Will ye be dinin’ with the Patrol?”

Savoury odours drifting from cauldrons over the cooking fire reminded Tiria that she was hungry. “Oh yes, please, Sergeant. That would be nice!”

The burly hare saluted. “Right y’are, miss, but the major says ye don’t get h’a bite ’til yore dressed properlike h’in yore regalia!”

The ottermaid looked indignantly at the tunic and kilt she had worn for the voyage. “Why, what’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?”

A smile creased the sergeant’s rough-hewn face. “Major Frunk says ye look like h’a ’edgehog wot’s been dragged back’ards through h’a bush, beggin’ yore pardon, miss. H’accordin’ to ’im, you gotta be h’attired h’as befits h’a future queen. H’either that or ye starve. Those h’are ’is words, not mine, miss!”

Fuming with the injustice of it all, Tiria was forced to go back aboard the ship and change into her regalia. She marched stiffly into camp, where she sat stone-faced amid the garrulous hare crew. Corporal Drubblewick served her with a bowl of mushroom and barley soup, some freshly baked griddle scones and a beaker of raspberry cordial.

The fat hare wiggled his ears at her. “I say, M’lady, jolly spiffy outfit, wot!”

Cuthbert strolled over, nodding his approval. “Top marks, a very smart turnout indeed! Ye really look the part now, Milady. Well done!”

Tiria treated him to a withering stare. “I’m so pleased you think so, Major.”

He indicated the other hares with his swagger stick. “Oh,’tis not just me, it’s the rest o’ the Patrol, doncha see? They’ll be goin’ into battle to regain this isle for ye. That bein’ the case, some o’ these buckoes may be slain defendin’ your title, miss. War’s war y’know, an’ they’d feel much better knowin’ they’re riskin’ life’n’limb for a queen who looks like a queen, an’ not some raggedy otter gel, eh wot?”

Tiria, completely humbled by this statement, put aside her food. “Please accept my apologies, Major Frunk. I never thought of it that way. From now on I’ll do my best to look and act like a queen. Forgive my foolishness.”

Cuthbert tapped her paw with his swagger stick, answering kindly, “Come on now, don’t get so jolly well upset. Eat up your vittles, Majesty, an’ remember: Handsome is as handsome does, wot!”

Tiria cheered up, accepting the hares’ compliments and putting up with their jokes. When the meal was finished, Captain Granden gave the order for everybeast to inspect arms.