High Rhulain

34

Deedero Galedeep was chopping leeks and scallions to add to her stewpot when an otterbabe came bursting through the waterfall curtain into the cavern. Placing his little paws either side of his mouth, he bawled at her, “Mammee, a fink our daddie’s comin’ ’ome!”

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.

“Pick ’em up laddie buck! an’ put ’em down laddie

buck!

You’ve made it home an’ now you’re out of luck, out

of luck!

Oh ’tis nice to march back home,

when there’s nowhere else to go,

for home is every warrior’s desire.

To see the ones you love, beat each other black’n’blue,

while your dear old granny’s roastin’ by the fire!

Pick ’em up laddie buck! an’ put ’em down laddie buck!

You’ve made it home an’ now you’re out of luck, out

of luck!

To taste your mother’s cookin’,

an’ have bellyache all day,

o what a sad an’ sorry tale is this.

If I could just escape, to some regimental camp,

I’d give some ugly sergeant one big kiss!

Pick ’em up laddie buck! an’ put ’em down laddie buck!

You’ve made it home an’ now you’re out of luck, out

of luck!

But I cannot run away,

’cos my sister pinched me boots,

she bit me nose an’ stole me uniform.

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.”

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