The crowd went wild with delight. It took Skipper, Sollertree, Torrab and several stout hedgehogs to restore order and a degree of quiet. The pretty squirrelmaid sat down upon the dusty path, completely dumbfounded, as Cregga continued, “Redwall Abbey needs someone like you, miss, young, bright and courageous. Dann is our Champion, and he will have his father, Janglur and Skipper to advise him. You, as Abbess, can always look to your grandma, your mother or to me for help. We will happily assist you in your decisions.”

Song stood up slowly, her eyes searching Cregga’s face. “But why me? There are many Redwallers who have lived here far longer than I have, Sister Sloey, Friar Butty, Tragglo Spearback. It is an honor far beyond my wildest dreams, marm. Tell me, why do you choose me as Abbess?”

The blind badger gave her reasons readily. “While you were gone I was visited in my dreams by Martin the Warrior. This is what he told me.

“Four Chieftains from the isle return,

But one with his own tribe will stay,

Three will return, back to this place,

On summertime’s last day.

The riverbeast to rule his kind,

Where once his errors were maligned,

But this to you I say,

Look to the young two went from here,

A-questing for my tapestry,

The Reguba and Swifteye’s maid,

Champion and Abbess they shall be!”

Florian Dugglewoof Wilffachop bent a leg, twirled his floppy hat and produced the most elaborate bow anybeast had yet witnessed. “Truth will out, my deah companions, ah yes. Who among us would doubt the words of Martin the Warrior? Splendid chap, absolutely first rate, wot wot! Ahem! Would you kindly bestow upon these rustic creatures a few pearls of newfound wisdom from your rosepetal lips, O Abbess Songthingummy?”

A puzzled look crossed Song’s face, and Friar Butty muttered, “He wants you to say a few words, missie—sorry, Abbess.”

Song was lifted onto the Noonvale Troupe’s cart. She looked down at the expectant faces gazing up at her and took a deep breath. “Would you like a feast?”

A roaring cheer arose. “Yes, yes, a feast!”

Holding up her paws for silence, the young squirrelmaid smiled sweetly. “Well, you’ll just have to wait. ’Tis autumn tomorrow and the harvesting must begin. As Abbess of Redwall I’ll have no idle paws or gluttonous faces about me while there’s work to be done around my Abbey. Dann Reguba, I give you as Champion permission to liven up any slackers—tug of the ear, swift kick in the tail, that sort of thing. And you visitors, we’ll see if we can’t find you some useful chores, washing pots, scrubbing floors and whatnot. Oh yes, you’d better watch out when you hear the swish of this Abbess’s robe!”