High Rhulain

11

In the attic above the Abbey Library, the window shutters had been removed. Sister Snowdrop sat on a heap of books, framed in a shaft of early evening sunlight swirling with red-gold dust motes. Books, scrolls, volumes and ancient archives lay thick about the little old mouse. Her reverie was broken when Tiria came pounding in, followed by her three friends along with Brink and Skipper.

“Sister, what is it? What have you found?”

Enveloped by dust, Snowdrop pulled a kerchief from her sleeve as she attempted to reply. “I fou . . . A fou . . . Aaaaaaachoo!”

Scrambling up, she raced to the open window, sneezing several more times. Breathing in gulps of fresh air, the Sister glared over her tiny square glasses at them. “Really! Do you have to come stampeding in here and raising all that dust? Most inconsiderate!”

Snowdrop paused to clean her spectacles. “You well may ask what I’ve found, but I’m not showing it to anybeast in here until I’ve had my afternoon tea on the west walltop. We’ll talk about it there.”

Brink scratched his headspikes. “But why would ye be takin’ tea up there, Sister?”

Skipper interrupted his friend. “Wait, Sister, I’ll tell this ole buffer. That’d be ’cos Friar Bibble ain’t servin’ on the lawn. Afternoon tea’s ended. But if’n ye was to go to the walltop, ye’d find our Abbess there with molemum Burbee. Without lookin’ I can tell ye. They’ll be sittin’ on those liddle foldin’ chairs, sharin’ a pot o’ tea an’ a tray o’ goodies. Same as they do every mornin’, noon, late noon an’ evenin’, every day. Right, Sister?”

Snowdrop beamed at him. “Right, Skipper Banjon, very observant of you, I must say. You go on now, I’ll get my beaker from the library and meet you all up there with my discovery.”

Having installed herself on top of the gatehouse steps at the west walltop, Sister Snowdrop took full advantage of the generosity of the Abbess and Burbee. Dunking arrowroot and almond biscuits into a steaming beaker of mint and comfrey tea, she indicated a large, thick, green volume she had brought with her.

“Feast your eyes on this, my friends. What do you think of it?”

Abbess Lycian topped up Snowdrop’s beaker from her seemingly ever-full teapot. “Pray, what are we supposed to think of it? The thing looks very much like a dusty old green book to me.”

Snowdrop spluttered on a soggy biscuit, as though she could hardly believe what the Abbess had just said. “Can’t you see? It’s the rare, original Geminya Tome, that’s what it is. Dusty old green book, indeed!”

Abbess Lycian was completely unruffled by the revelation. “How nice, but what exactly is a rare original Geminya Tome, if I may make so bold as to ask?”

The little Sister was wide-eyed with disbelief. “Surely you’re joking, Mother Abbess! You mean to tell me you’ve never heard of it?”

Breaking off, Snowdrop stared around at the others. “Have none of you ever heard of the Geminya Tome?”

Molemum Burbee came out with one of her gems of mole logic. “No, we’m bain’t, moi dearie, an’ oi aspeck we’m never will, unlest you’m tell us’n’s. Boi ’okey, scholarybeasts can bee’s gurtly aggurvatin’, hurr aye!”

Tiria supported the good molemum firmly. “Please, Sister Snowdrop, can you just get on and tell us about your precious Geminya Tome?”

Stroking the volume’s faded green cover, the old Assistant Librarian explained. “This is something that has been lost to the sight of Redwallers since Old Quelt was young. He has often told me of it. Sister Geminya was a mouse who lived at our Abbey in the long distant past. She was a highly knowledgeable scholar, specialising in the solving, and setting, of all types of riddles and puzzles. Many considered Geminya to be the cleverest creature in all Mossflower. However, genius has its drawbacks: She was also renowned as an odd, reclusive and quirky beast, very secretive and annoyingly condescending to all. Just examine her name, it was a title she gave to herself. Look at the name of her book, the Geminya Tome! Artful I grant you, but extremely vain!”

Skipper tapped his rudder impatiently. “Ye’ll forgive us who ain’t scholars, Sister, but wot makes a book called the Geminya Tome so extremely vain?”

Taking a piece of charcoal from her waist pouch, Snowdrop began scribbling on the walltop paving. “Look, I’ll show you. Take the letters of her name, Geminya. Switch them about and it becomes Enigma Y.”

Brinty looked at the writing. “What’s an enigma?”

Abbess Lycian kindly explained to the young mouse, “It’s merely an educated name for a riddle or a puzzle.”

Snowdrop continued writing. “Exactly. Now take the letter Y. It has the same sound as the word we use when asking a question, ‘why.’ Then there’s the word ‘tome,’ which means a great weighty volume. But split it in half, and it becomes two smaller words. Do you see?”

Girry piped up. “Of course! ‘tome’—‘to me.’ Haha, clever, eh?”

The Sister had finished writing on the wall paving. “There you have it. Read it out please, Tiria.”

The ottermaid read out the curious translation. “ ‘Enigma to me. Why?’ ”

Snowdrop drained her beaker and held it out to be refilled. “Exactly! Now we can see the vanity of Sister Geminya. She’s telling us that she could solve anything. An enigma to me, huh, why?”

Abbess Lycian smiled. “She was very clever, though.”

Sister Snowdrop put aside her beaker. “Old Quelt is taking a nap right now. Just wait until he wakes up and I show him this!”

Tiria was still mystified. “I don’t quite understand, Sister. You’ve found this book and translated its meaning, but how does that help me? Is there anything about Rhulain or the Green Isle in it?”

Snowdrop began leafing through the yellowed pages of the ancient work, muttering to herself, “Actually, I believe there is something. Now, which page was it on? Hmm, I should have inserted a marker.”

She stopped at each page she came to, painstakingly inspecting it. “Ah, this is interesting, but that’s not it. Hmm, neither is this. I’m sorry, friends, I’ll get to it sooner or later. One just can’t go riffling slapdash through a work so rare and valuable as this, you know.”

The onlookers began snorting and tapping their paws impatiently at the dilatory old Sister. Feeling rather sorry for her, Abbess Lycian ventured a helpful suggestion.

“We realise you’re doing your best, Snowdrop, but it’s starting to get dusky out here. Perhaps if we go inside, conditions may be more favourable for you to study.”

Sister Snowdrop bobbed a small curtsy to the Abbess. With a speed which was surprising for one of her long seasons, she hopped nimbly off down the wallstairs, calling back as she hurried toward the Abbey, “What a splendid idea! They’ll be serving supper soon. Would one of you kindly bring the book along?”

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.”

Tiria interrupted her father. “You mean the first line, Skip? ‘Linger sure for the lee.’ I noticed that, too. Hmm, wonder what it’s supposed to mean?”

Brink tried to help with a suggestion. “I know the lee is the sheltered side of anythin’. Is that a clue? Are we lookin’ for a shelter?”

Quelt shook his head. “No no, Mr. Greyspoke, you’re just confusing the issue. Try using the whole line as a guide.”

Tribsy wrinkled his snout comically. “Hurr, you’m means all ee wurds’n’letters of ee line?”

Sister Snowdrop began giving out charcoal sticks and scraps of parchment for everybeast to use. “Precisely! We must treat the entire line as an anagram. You know what that is—a lot of letters which you can jumble up to arrange into a new phrase.”

Molemum Burbee sucked her tea noisily. “Hurr, oi never see’d that dun afore, marm. Oi bain’t used to riggles’n’puzzlers. They’m makes moi ’ead ache.”

Abbess Lycian topped her friend’s mug up with fresh tea. “There now, don’t you fret about it, Burbee. Girry, maybe you and I could work at it together.”

They paired off into twos. Only Quelt sat alone, watching them like a master observing his pupils.

Tiria and Brinty were first to come up with something. The ottermaid cried eagerly, “Listen to this: ‘Eels rue fling her tore’!”

Brink scratched his headspikes. “Wot does that mean?”

Tiria shrugged. “I don’t know. Sounds silly, doesn’t it? Have you two got anything yet?”

Skipper Banjon, who was Brink’s partner, read out their effort. “ ‘Forges the line ruler,’ or ‘Rules the line forger.’ Huh, I think we left a letter E out. It’s hard alright!”

Old Quelt polished his glasses nonchalantly. “Dearie me, you aren’t even close. Would you like me to tell you the answer?”

Girry called out abruptly, “No, we wouldn’t!”

Quelt answered with a touch of irony in his tone. “Please yourself, young ’un. I suppose you’ve solved it, eh?”

Abbess Lycian’s eyes twinkled. “Yes we have, actually. It says ‘The Ruler of Green Isle.’ Then there’s the last word of the rhyme, it says ‘is.’ I’d forgotten about that, but now it makes sense.”

Girry was elated. “Abbess Lycian and I solved it, by arranging all the letters of the line in a circle and staring hard at them. It suddenly just popped out at us. The Ruler of Green Isle . . . Is!”

Brinty looked expectantly at his young squirrel friend. “Is who?”

Sister Snowdrop pointed to the Tome. “We don’t know yet, apart from the fact that it’s somebeast who lives over the sea. Now listen carefully while I read you the second part of the puzzle.”

The little Sister recited the odd words slowly.

“Three aitches, two ee’s, two I’s, two N’s,

Wherever there’s Q, there’s a U, or two.

One G, one L, one A, one R,

So I leave the answer to you.”

Molemum Burbee covered her ears with both paws. “Ho gurt seasons! ’Tis enuff to droive a pore beast to discratchun!”

Lycian and Girry were already forming up the letters into a circle. The Abbess whispered to Girry, “She means distraction. Right, let’s see what we’ve got!”

Girry rubbed his paws together, chuckling happily. “Really enjoy doing these puzzles, Mother Abbess!”

Brink Greyspoke wiped charcoal dust from his paws in disgust. “Well, I’m glad ye do, Girry mate, ’tis all a duck’s dinner to me. I’m only good at bein’ a Cellar’og!”

Girry addressed Quelt in a bantering manner. “You’re the scholar here, sir. I don’t suppose you’ve got the solution yet?”

The Recorder Librarian eyed him severely. “No, I haven’t, and I don’t suppose you’ve got it in so short a time, young fellow!”

Girry stood up and began pacing the room. Clasping his paws behind him, he did a little hopskip, twirling his bushy tail.

Tiria stared at him incredulously. “Girry, you haven’t solved it, have you?”

Girry nodded, smirking like a Dibbun who had evaded a bath. “Got it as soon as I set eyes on it. Straight off!”

Molemum Burbee shook a huge digging claw at him. “Then take ee smugg lukk off’n ee face an’ tell uz!”

The young squirrel was enjoying his moment. Performing another hopskip, he stuck his nose in the air. “Shan’t!”

Sister Snowdrop pleaded, “Oh please, tell us. I’ll have Friar Bibble cook something special just for you!”

Girry grinned sweetly at her. “No, shan’t!”

Skipper rose menacingly from his seat. “Tell us right now, ye young rip, or I’ll kick yore fluffy tail down the stairs!”

Abbess Lycian cried out severely, “No you will not, sir!”

She cast an icy glance at Girry before continuing. “I will, and I’ll box his ears into the bargain. Come here, you annoying rascal!”

She made an undignified charge at Girry, who fled shouting, “Yaaaah! ‘High Queen Rhulain,’ that’s the answer!”

Lycian strolled back to her seat, smiling calmly. “So then, there we have it, straight from the mouth of my obedient assistant.”

She held out her paw to Girry, who had regained his composure sufficiently to announce, “The Ruler of Green Isle is High Queen Rhulain!”

He bowed elegantly but could not resist one last hopskip as he bounded to the Recorder Librarian’s side. “Hoho, this is the stuff! Come on, Quelt sir, and you, too, Sister. Where’s the next puzzle, eh? Just show it to us and we’ll crack it like Friar Bibble cracking a hazelnut with a bung mallet. Won’t we, mates?”

There was ready agreement from the rest until Sister Snowdrop put a damper on their enthusiasm. “I’m afraid we haven’t found anything else yet. You’ll just have to wait.”

Girry’s tail stood up like a flagpole. “You don’t mean to tell us that’s all, do you?”

Old Quelt closed the book, patting its cover. “Not at all, young sir. There’s probably lots more about Miss Tiria’s dream and the journey she’ll be making.”

Tiria could not conceal her disappointment. “Well, why can’t you find it for us now?”

Removing his glasses and dabbing at his eyes with a kerchief, the ancient squirrel explained. “I’m certain there has to be more, because Sister Geminya has given us a keystone clue, the High Queen Rhulain. I can follow her reasoning, though she could be an exceedingly aggravating creature. But when she has a tale to relate, or a mystery to set out, this is the roundabout way she has of writing it down. Sister Snowdrop and I must study the Tome carefully. Just one oversight, and we lose it all. It is not the work of a moment, you must understand. Our research will be long and arduous, but we’ll get there. Now, my friends, I am very old and very tired. It will have to wait until tomorrow morning. I bid you good night!”

Sister Snowdrop arose, rubbing her back as she joined him. “Please don’t judge us harshly, friends. Sleep can be a bother and a waste of time to the young, but as the seasons pile heavily upon one it becomes a blessing and a comfort. I, too, will see you all in the morning. Good night!”

The pair shuffled off, carrying the big book between them.

After the door of Cavern Hole had closed behind them, Abbess Lycian threw up her paws in frustration. “Oh bother! Just when we were getting somewhere. I’m not a bit tired yet. Oh well, what must be must be. Is there any tea left in the pot, Burbee?”

“Burr, nary ee drop!” Burbee said, as she held the teapot spout down to demonstrate. “Oi bain’t one fur fancy likkle teapotters, oi’ll go an’ make summ in our own gurt big ’un.”

Lycian picked up their large earthenware mugs. “Good idea. I’ll get our folding chairs and meet you up on the walltop. There’s a full moon out, and it’s a pleasant summer night. I like it up there, don’t you?”

The molemum was feeling tired herself, but she agreed. “Yuss, marm, oi’ll see ee up thurr!”