Yore face when I’m bakin’!”

Laughing uproariously, Soll hitched the Swallow farther up on his shoulders and broke into a lumbering run, with the four travelers trotting in his wake.

Goodwife Brimm was a small, thin otter, incredibly old; her fur had turned a beautiful silver-white. Song had never seen an old otterwife dressed so charmingly, from her poke bonnet and puff-sleeved gown to the flowery pinafore with dainty lace edging. The goodwife’s home was properly built from baked clay and mud bricks, walling in a flat almost square rock spur, which formed the roof. White limestones separated her vegetable and herb garden from a blossoming flower patch. The old otter left off gathering rows of scones from a windowledge, where they had been cooling, and hobbled forward to greet her friend. Soll and Goody Brimm hugged and kissed fondly.

“My ole Goody Goody, prettiest otter an’ best cook anywheres!”

“Soll, you big flatterer, yore singin’ ain’t improved none!”

“So it ’asn’t, marm, but I got one ’ere can outsing larks!”

Soll introduced them, while Goody Brimm kissed their cheeks and squeezed their paws right heartily for one so frail-looking. “Fortune smile on ’em, ain’t they so young an’ beautiful, Soll? My my, swords’n’slings’n’rapiers! Proper young warriors all. Come in and sit, I was about t’put the kettle on!”

Inside was the neatest, tidiest house they had ever seen. A brightly hued rush mat covered the floor from wall to wall, pottery ornaments graced the highly polished dresser, there were even embroidered linen headrests on the chairbacks. Goody Brimm put a sizable copper kettle over the fire to boil, then, rolling mint leaves and dried burnet rose hips almost to powder with a long round stone, she tossed them in a fat blue teapot. Tea at Goody Brimm’s house was very special. The travelers helped themselves to almond wafers and scones, spread with every kind of preserve from blackcurrant jelly to gooseberry and damson jam.

Soll hauled two bags from his pack. “Brought you some grapes’n’almonds. Good crop this year.”

They explained their mission to the otterwife, who listened, sipping her tea and nodding, while encouraging them to eat more. When they had finished their tale, the old goodwife spoke. “The stream flows well not far from here. Soll will have you there by eventide, so don’t gollop yore food an’ rush off, now. Lackaday, young ’uns are always in a hurry. Slow down, ’tis better for you. Now then, pretty miss, with a name like your’n I think you should carry a nice tune. Do ye know one called ‘Mother Nature Dear’? ’Tis a great favorite of mine.”

Song answered without hesitation. “Aye, I know it well, marm, my grandma Ellayo taught it to me. ’Twas a long time ago, but I recall every word.”