Epilogue

And so, of course, there was a feast, and many more after that in the seasons that followed.

It was the Summer of the Whistling Pond Reeds, and one fine day Vanessa sat in her favorite spot at the edge of the orchard facing the clear pond, her back against a venerable apple tree whose cool shade had provided sweet summer relief for generations of Redwallers. Eyes closed to the merest of slits, she lay in the hazy bliss of half-wakefulness as the gentle breeze caressed her fur and set the leaves above dancing in a lazy rhythm that played dappled sunspots across her green habit.

Her peaceable repose was interrupted by the noisy flapping of wings and a sudden rush of air on her face. Vanessa sat up straighter and looked at Highwing, who'd settled onto the rich dark earth just in front of her. "Hello, there, Highwing."

"And hello to you, Abbess," the Sparra leader nodded.

Vanessa chuckled. "You never pass up the opportunity to call me that, do you?"

"And why should I? You've been Abbess for nearly a full season now."

"Yes, and I'm still getting used to it." Vanessa shook her head. "The idea of little me, being in charge of this entire Abbey ... it's even more daunting than when I became Infirmary keeper. Personally, I think old Arlyn appointed me just so he could spend all his time fishing!"

"It's our dear old ex-Abbot I've come here about," said Highwing. "He's been conspiring all day with Friar Hugh to prepare another feast."

"What? That'll be the third one this summer!"

"Yes, well, now that you've decided to make Monty the official Skipper of Redwall's otters, Arlyn thinks there ought to be a formal celebration. I can see his point, since the Skipper of all otters in Mossflower will be on paw for the event, and will no doubt bring many of his fellows ... with so many otters coming, there'd better be plenty of food at the ready!"

Vanessa blew out an exasperated sigh. "First there was that feast he organized when Geoff was made Abbey Recorder, and then the one for Alexander being named Chief of the Mossflower Patrol ... and that's not even counting Nameday! Well, I'm the Abbess now, and I'LL decide whether we'll be holding a feast!"

Highwing stood staring at her in silence for some moments. "So, will we?"

"Of course we will." Vanessa leaned back against the broad treetrunk, slitting her eyes once more and grinning mischieviously. "As sure as my habit is green, we'll be having a feast. But if Arlyn wants to do all the work of organizing it, that's fine by me. I'm sure he'll inform me when the time is right. In the meantime, I'll just sit here and continue to savor this splendid day nature has blessed us with. If anybeast needs me for anything, they know where to find me."

"Happy slumbers, then. I'll just be getting back to Warbeak Loft. Can't leave my feathered kinsfolk alone for too long, or they'll find something to start bickering over. I would swear that Sparra love to argue even more than shrews do!"

"Pity they never had your upbringing," Vanessa smirked.

"Maybe I'll send a flock of our eggchicks down to sit in on Pinky's classes, and learn how to be proper Redwallers."

"Geoff would just love that ... especially if they all start calling him 'Pinky!'"

"Perhaps not, then. Anyway, see you at the feast, my good Abbess." Highwing flapped away into the cloudless sky of blue. As Vanessa slipped back into her cozy reverie of semi-sleep, she could hear her Sparra friend singing with the unbridled joy of the day.

"O, the sun shines bright, not a cloud in sight,

I haven't got a fret or care at all.

My heart is light with the joy of flight

And the spirit of the home I call ... Redwall!"