The old squirrel shook his head. "We can't do anything, Dann. The Marlfox is out o' range. Nobeast could throw a spear that far."

Suddenly everybeast leapt to one side. A whirring noise filled the air.

Whruuuuum! Whrrrrruuuuuuummmm!

"Take this with ye, vermin!"

A former slave, the burly young hedgehog maid, raced forward to the rocky plateau brink. She was swinging an iron slave chain in both paws. Faster and faster she whirled it, until it became a blur. Song pulled her grandpa down flat, narrowly avoiding the broken manacles at the chain's end as the links thrummed louder and louder.

Whrrrruuuummmm! Whrrrrruuuummmm!

Whrrrrruuuuuummmmm!

The hogmaid released the chain and it whizzed out over the lake, a whirlwind of metal. She was carried forward by the mighty throw, slipping off the plateau into the water. Like lightning, Torrab and two of her brothers yanked her back, a pike clinging to her footpaw. Mokkan was just turning his head to look back as the chain struck him, wrapping around his neck in the blink of an eye and whipping him straight into the water.

The Teeth of the Deeps, the ravening pike shoals that preyed upon any living thing that was cast into their domain, closed in. Long silver bodies, bristling dorsal fins and ferocious ripping teeth, threshing the water to foam. So ended the reign of High King Mokkan, last of the Marlfoxes!

A mighty cheer arose from the freed slaves. The water rats stared blankly for a moment, then joined in wholeheartedly. The young hedgehog maid sat inspecting her footpaw and Song sat down beside her, eyes shining with admiration. "That was a mighty throw, miss, you must possess great strength. What do they call you?"

"My name is Nettlebud."

Song shook her paw warmly. "I know your father well! He'll be overjoyed to see you!"

Burble scurried about, reassuring slaves and water rats as Megraw came swooping down to land on the plateau. "Don't fuss now, me friend won't harm ye, he's on our side, yiss yiss, an' we're thankful for that!"

Folding his massive wings, the osprey nodded at Song. "Weel, lassie, ah tek it the battle's o'er. Ye'll no be seein' maggypies round here nae mair!"

Nobeast doubted the fierce fish eagle's word.

Dippler eyed his logboat, floating empty out on the lake. "I could take a dozen or so in the logboat when we gets it back to land. Anybeast want to come with me? I'm goin' home."

Home!

The beautiful word meant everything to the creatures gathered by the lake's edge. Some of the freed slaves broke into sobs and wept at the thought of it. Gawjo was one of those who could not hold back a tear. Dann thought of Redwall and his father, and his own eyes filled.

"Look at 'em blubberin', Song," Dippler whispered. "Bet you can't start everybeast weepin' by singin' somethin' nice an' sad?"

Song tweaked the Guosim shrew's ear. "You heartless little horror! Bet I can. Just give me a moment to dry my eyes."

There on the rocks of the sunlit island the young squirrelmaid's voice rang out into the late-summer afternoon.

"Please gaze round our garden, remember me there, And always be faithful and true, Then look to the sunset and know that somewhere, 'Tis I who'll be thinking of you.

Home, home, I will come home, Back to the ones I love best, Home, home, no more to roam, My weary heart will find rest.

So leave the door open and keep the fire bright, As I recall it was always, It may be evening or dawn's welcome light, I'll wander back one of these days.

Home, home, I will come home, Ere the long seasons have passed, Home, home, no more to roam, Peace we will find there at last."

In the hush that followed, Song noticed Dippler weeping.

Chapter 34.

Rimrose sat at the Abbey pond's edge with Cregga, Sister Sloey, Ellayo, Deesum and Gurrbowl Cellarmole. Between them they were candying nuts and fruit, shelling hazels, almonds and chestnuts, slicing apples and pears, removing stones from plums, damsons and greengages, and selecting berries. These they layered in pottery jars, pouring in honey, then sealing the tops with bark circles and beeswax.

Sister Sloey watched a crew of moles carrying ladders out of the Abbey. "They've finished fixing all the windowpanes, Cregga marm."

The blind Badgermum nodded fondly. "At last Redwall is restored to its former glory, and our beautiful tapestry will soon be back where it belongs. I can stand in the center of Great Hall and feel it, I know I can!"

Gurrbowl placed another full jar to one side. "Hurr, et be'd a long job awroight. This day's ee larst day of season boi moi reckernin'."

Rimrose looked up from her work. "The last day of summer? Surely not. You said that Song and her friends would be back by then, Cregga."

The blind badger pulled the stalk from an apple and began slicing it expertly. "That's what my dream told me, Rimrose. Maybe summer has a few more days to run yet. Are you sure your calculations are right, Gurrbowl?"

The molewife nodded solemnly. "Thurr bain't no mustakes in moi calyoocayshuns, marm!"

Ellayo reassured Gurrbowl hastily. "Oh, we ain't questionin' yore reckonin', marm. Matter o' fact, summer does seem to have gone on quite long this season. Oh, by the way, has anybeast seen mister Florian an' the Dibbuns today? They was 'aunting us yesterday, pinchin' nuts an' dabbin' their paws in our 'oney, gettin' up to all sorts o' roguery they were. Wonder where they've gotten to?"

Deesum nodded in the direction of Mossflower Wood. "Berrypickin'. I heard mister Janglur and mister Rusvul say at breakfast that they'd go along with Florian to keep an eye on the Dibbuns. Huh! Rather them than us, I say. Imagine having charge of that lot in the woodlands. I'll wager they come back filthy, with their smocks all snagged and ripped!"

Rimrose poured honey into a jar, chuckling. "Mister Florian'll be glad to get Dwopple and his gang back here, I should imagine. Is that them now, coming in the main gate? Dearie me, just look at the state they're in!"

A band of Dibbuns charged across the lawn, stained red and purple with berry juice. Janglur and Rusvul followed, towing a cartload of baskets. Florian followed up, breathlessly trying to take a headcount of the Abbeybabes.

"Five, six, seven, be still, y'blighters, wot! Come back here, back I say, young sirs an' missies, line up correctly! Oh, confound the blighters, I've gone an' lost count again. Er, three, four, five . . . Stop dodgin' about there, Dwopple, I've gone an' counted you twice again. You should be five, or was it four? No, three, that's right. Now, three, four, five."

Sister Sloey took a correct count as the Dibbuns ran toward her. "Mister Florian sir, I've got a count, there's twenty-two in all. Is that how many you went out with?"

Dwopple swiped a strawberry and dipped it in honey. "Course not! Twenny-two's norra right, us wen' out wiv twenny-free dis mornin', mista Rusbul counted 'em twice!"

Rusvul and Janglur took a swift count, which tallied with Sister Sloey's. They dropped the cart handles.

"One's missin', Jang. We'll have t'go back to the woodlands!"

"No, you stay 'ere, Rus. I'll go!"

Rimrose hurried past both of them. "You two take a restI'll go. There's some cold mint tea setting in the pond shallows. Help yourselvesyou deserve it."

Florian Dugglewoof Wilffachop was first to the tea jug. "Ah, jolly good, cold tea after a flippin' day chasin' those ruffians round bush an' shrub, nothin' like it!"

Rimrose found the Dibbun, a baby dormouse named Guff, with enormous ears. He had toddled right on past the main gates and was close to the end of the wall, going south. Rimrose caught up with him, though he started to run and she had to chase him. She swept the tiny fellow up into her paws. "Where d'you think you're off to, my little button?"

Guff pointed a berrystained paw south down the path. "Gunna zing downed durr!"

The good squirrelwife translated Guff's baby talk. "Going to sing down there? Why'd you want to do that?"

The dormouse babe looked at her as if the answer was obvious. "Cozz dat's whair alia singen be's!"

Rimrose did not doubt the Dibbun's wordhis large sensitive ears could pick up sounds far better than hers. She stood there holding the little creature, listening for quite a while until her ears too picked up the noise. It came from many voices raised heartily as they came through the woods, roaring out an old ballad called "Seven Seasons Gone."

Rimrose felt her paws trembling as she lowered Guff back to the path. Excitement and many differing emotions crowded in on her, so that she could hardly put her words together correctly.

"Tell them Abbey, er, Abbey go, tell them Janglur, tell my daughter coming home. Quick Abbey!"

Guff nodded. He understood perfectly. Dibbuns spoke like that all the time, it was no problem. He trundled off toward Redwall while Rimrose dashed the other way, her skirts and aprons flapping as she yelled herself hoarse. "Song, it's Song, my daughter's coming home!"

Soon the dustcloud was seen rising above the trees, tramping paws keeping up with the old marching ballad. Strung across four pikestaffs borne by Song, Dann, Dippler and Gawjo, the great Redwall tapestry provided a fitting banner as they bellowed the words.

"Seven seasons gone, oh seven seasons gone, But now I'm comin' home, me dear ole mate, Over valley hill'n'field an' me footpaws didn't yield, Get some vittles on the table, I can't wait!

Go t'the left right left! Go t'the left right left!

Seven seasons gone, oh seven seasons gone, Have the little ones all growed up big'n'strong, Is me father in the chair, do his snores ring through the air, Now I'm goin' to wake him up with this ould song.

Go t'the left right left! Go t'the left right left!

Seven seasons gone, oh seven seasons gone, I've been fightin' roarin' marchin' all the time, But I'm comin' home t'you, to give you a hug or two, The moment that I've supped a jug o' wine.

Go t'the left right left! Go t'the left right left!"

Bong boom! Bong boom! Bong boom!

The bells of Redwall Abbey tolled out like melodious rolling thunder. Chores, rest, recreation and duty were forgotten. Redwallers poured out onto the path outside the gates to see the brave sight. Aprons waved and cooks' caps were flung into the air. Cregga seized Friar Butty and sat him upon her mighty shoulders, yelling, "What do you see, friend, tell me what you can see?"

The old Recorder's voice squeaked with eagerness. "I see Song, Dann and the young Guosim, wotsisname, Dippler! There's an old squirrel marchin' alongside them, looks like a seasoned warrior t'me. I see a rank of hedgehogs, biggest I ever set eyes on, must be close to a score of 'em! Right behind them there's squirrels, mice, moleseven some otters! They're smiling, laughing, singing, pounding the dust up high as they come. Oh, Cregga marm, did you ever see such a sight?"

Cregga chuckled at the thought of a blind badger seeing any sight, but she understood her friend's jubilation. "No, I never saw such a sight, Friar. What else do you see?"

"I see Martin the Warrior! They've done it! They've brought the great tapestry home to Redwall!"

Rusvul grabbed his son's paws with a fierceness Dann could feel, dust settling on their faces as they stared intently at each other.

"Dann, that night, I'm sorry ..."

Dann seemed to have grown taller and broader. "Forget it, Reguba!"

Rusvul held his son at paw's length. "No, Dann, yore the Reguba now. Let me look at the son who's made me proud t'see a warrior standin' before me!"

Janglur and Rimrose hugged Song so hard she could scarcely breathe.

"Oh, Song, Song, thank the seasons you're back safe!"

"Well, missie, I'll bet you've sung some songs an' been through a few adventures since you left yore ole dad'n'mum. Haha, yore even prettier'n when y'went away!"

Song found herself looking over Janglur's shoulder at her grandpa and Ellayo, staring at one another like two creatures in a dream.

"Gawjo Swifteye, is it really you?"

"Aye, 'tis me, Ellayo me dear, older an' grayer, though mebbe none the wiser. Bet I'm a sight t'make sore eyes sorer, eh?"

"Oh no, Gawjo, you look 'andsome, all silver-furred an' well."

"Aye, but not half so pretty as you, Ellayo. You've not changed a single hair. Wait, is that our son Janglur?"

"You could wager on it, Gawjo. That apple never fell far from the tree! He's the breath out o' yore mouth. Go to him!"

"Thank ye, I will. Oh, Torrab, bring yore crew over here. Ellayo, I want you t'meet yore other sons an' daughters."

The old squirrelwife looked up at the big hedgehogs surrounding her and shook her head in amazement. "My sons an' daughters? Great seasons! You there, you look too big to be anybeast's son."

The giant hedgehog bowed, his face wreathed in smiles. "Hoho, marm, I ain't yore son, I'm just a visitor. My name's Sollertree an' this is my daughter Nettlebud an' our friend Goodwife Brimm. She's a fine cook, I can assure ye, marm."

Dippler found himself chatting to many Guosim friends. "Poor ole Bargle. That's another Log a Log we lost, mates. Who's Chieftain o' the tribe now? You, Mayon? Or Splikker maybe? I'm sure you've chosen another Log a Log since I've been gone?"

Mayon shook his head ruefully. "No, mate, Bargle was only actin' Log a Log. We can't make a new Chief until we catch up with that murderin' Fenno."

Dippler looked puzzled. "Fenno? Surely ye weren't thinkin' o' makin' that blackguard into a Log a Log?"

"Oh no. But Guosim law states clear that a new Chieftain can't be appointed until the old one is avenged," Splikker explained. "The Guerrilla Union rule is that when a Log a Log dies by the paw of a Guosim shrew"

Dippler interrupted him, as shrews invariably do when debating. "Lissen, matey, you've no need to go huntin' Fenno. I caught up with that murderin' scum an' slew him with my own sword, even though it was snapped in half. He's deader'n last season's grass an' good riddance to the villain!"

Everybeast turned as the shrews threw up their paws and pointed their snouts toward Dippler, setting up a shout.

"Logalogalogalogalogalooooooog!"

The young Guosim shrew stood totally embarrassed. "Ahoy, mates, steady on there. Wot's all the shoutin' about?"

A venerable old shrew named Marglo came forward, carrying something wound in barkcloth.

"Yore only a young 'un. Stands t'reason y'not expected to know all of the Guosim law, so I'll quote some to ye.

"The paw of the shrew that slays the beast, Who made our Chieftain fall, Will wield the sword of Guosim, And be Log a Log over all!"

Marglo unwrapped the barkcloth from a short rapier. Dippler recognized his dead leader's blade straightaway. The oldster presented it to him ceremoniously. "From this day forth yore name is forgotten in our tribe. Take the Chieftain's blade. Hail, Log a Log of all Guosim!"

Everybeast on the path in front of Redwall set up an earsplitting cheer. Skipper waved them to silence. "Would y'like to say a word to yore tribe, Log a Log, me ole mate? Come on, don't be shy."

The new Log a Log thrust the rapier into his belt. "Ahem, now let me see . . . er . . . yes. Guosim! I'm only young, but I'll try to be as good a Log a Log as our old 'un was, fortune smile on 'is memory. But I been thinkin'. No more logboats fer us, we're goin' to build new vessels, light an' swift an' easy t'carry overland. Soon now I'll take ye to see me friend Chief Burble, boss of the River'ead watervoles. He's the bucko who'll show us 'ow t'make boats like the Swallow, neatest liddle craft ever to sail a stream! Oh, an' there's another thing. I won't stand t'see any young 'uns in our tribe pushed around or bullied or made fun of! Er ... that's all fer now, but I'll think of more to say to ye later."

Dann strode over to congratulate his friend. "Well said, Log a Log. I think you'll be a great Chieftain!"