Jacques, Brian - Redwall 14 - The Taggerung by The Taggerung

Author:The Taggerung
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Every fourth summer, Skipper and his ottercrew went off to a Hullabaloo. They would follow streams and rivers down to the shores of the great sea, where they would meet up with other otter crews and many of the sea otters from the far north. Hullabaloo was a festival that could last until autumn, as long as the otters were having fun. Meeting old friends and relatives, sporting in the waves, singing, dancing and lighting bonfires each night on the beach for the inevitable feasts was good rough fun, of the sort that ottercrews enjoy immensely.

Skipper and his crew marched out of Redwall's gates that morning, waving, cheering, and promising to bring back lots of shells for the Dibbuns. Mhera stood out on the path with her friends, calling goodbyes and fluttering kerchiefs until the otters merged into the sun-shimmering distance of the flatlands.

Fwirl accompanied the ottermaid back inside the Abbey. "Why didn't you go with them, Mhera? 'Twould be a lovely holiday for you and your mama."

Mhera shrugged. "We've not been part of any crew for many seasons now. Skipper said we were welcome to join them, but there's too much to be done here, Fwirl. Friar Bobb couldn't do without Mama; she loves the kitchens as much as he does. As for me, well, I've got my riddle to solve and Cregga to watch over. Besides, I like Redwall in summer. There's always something going on."

Fwirl linked paws with her friend. "I do too. Haha, we're both becoming a regular old pair of Abbeybeasts. Come on, I promised Broggle that I'd help your mama and Friar Bobb to get lunch ready. It won't be too difficult, with twoscore otters out of the way. Race you to the kitchens!"

Even though the lunch that day was a splendid one, Mhera sat toying with her plate of celery and chestnut bake, rearranging the salad surrounding it into random patterns. A leaden lump in her chest would not allow her to enjoy the food. Failure weighed heavily upon the ottermaid. Raucous laughter from the far table, where Drogg Cellarhog and old Hoarg were challenging one another to imaginary feats of eating, did nothing to lift her spirits.

Drogg was gesturing airily with a wooden spoon. "1 could chase down a chestful o' chestnuts with cherry juice wine!"

Hoarg smiled patronizingly over his glasses at this effort. "I could purloin a portion o' pears an' pop 'em down with a pot o' pennycress cordial!"

And so the banter went back and forth.

"Ho, ye could, could ye? Well, you'd best step aside when I attack an Abbeyful of apples an' ask for an ample allocation of ale afterward!"

"Step aside? I step aside for nobeast, whether it be a hallowed hedgehog, an officious otter, a seasoned squirrel, a mutterin' mole or a befuddled badger!"

Boorab, who was referee, rapped old Hoarg's paw with an oatfarl. "Foul, sah! Infringement of the rules. You changed your initial letter no less than five times an' never jolly well mentioned food once. You lose two points, old chap, an' that slice o' fruitcake.

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