Urchin and the Rage Tide (33 page)

The queen kissed him and said, “Thank you for every moment. Thank you, Crispin of Mistmantle.”

Hope and Juniper stood in the Chamber of Candles, their hearts too full to speak. And, in the royal chambers, Mother Huggen lifted little Princess Almondflower onto her lap.

“There was once a brave young squirrel,” she began, rocking her, “so bright and brave that he was soon made a captain, and his name was Crispin. He was a fine captain, and so was his friend Padra, who was an otter. But there was a third captain, and his name was Husk.…”

Padra lay on his back in the sea, floating and watching the stars. He felt closer to Crispin here than in the Gathering Chamber.

“It’s been good,” he said,with his face to the sky. “You’ve been a wonderful king. Mind, I always told you your dungeons were useless.

“Crispin, you know what it’s like—of course you do, because of losing Whisper. So I suppose, when you lose someone you love, somebody who’s always been there, it’s like losing a limb. You never grow the limb back, but you find you can somehow manage without it. I suppose I’ll just have to find somebody else to waste time with now. There’s always Fingal. And I’ll keep an eye on the family for you, Crispin. Urchin, too. And Sepia—I suppose you must know this already, somehow—but she came through. I wish you could see her. Perhaps you can. Crispin, hasn’t it been good!”

Urchin went down to the chamber by the Spring Gate. It was his own chamber, but, all the same, he knocked before going in.

“Are you all right, Corr?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” said Corr. “I don’t believe it. Even though I’ve seen him dead, I can’t believe he’s not going to be here anymore.”

“Mourning is always like that, Corr,” said Urchin gently. “Have you had anything to eat today?”

“Arran brought me a fish,” said Corr, not sounding interested. “It’s all a bit too much, sir. When Crown and I got Sepia home we thought that would be it—all done. Then Crispin…I wasn’t ready for that. Nobody expected it.”

“I know,” said Urchin. “Corr, the first thing to say is that what you have done affirms you as a true Voyager, and I don’t know if you feel like a hero, but what you’ve done…I’m astonished and impressed by it all. I hope you’ll tell me all about it, every detail. I want to hear everything. But for now, I think you’d feel better for a swim. Otters usually do.”

As soon as Urchin said that, Corr knew that a swim was exactly what he wanted. Everything would feel better after a swim. In fact, he couldn’t wait to get into the water.

“Padra’s down there,” said Urchin. “And the otters have finished their turn on watch, so if I know Fingal he’ll be on his way down, too. Oh, and Fionn’s down there trying to teach her frog to talk. Away you go, Corr.”

So the animals watched, talked, prayed, swam, and looked after each other. Water still had to be fetched, food still had to be cooked. And as days passed, they understood what they had always known—that though Crispin was dead, the sun would still rise and set on Mistmantle.

Juniper asked Fingal to row him around the island. The sun was bright on a calm sea. As the afternoon wore on, golden light filled the sky and the animals had to turn their faces from the power of the setting sun. All around the island, Juniper felt the change that had come since Crispin laid down his life. It was as if the brightness in the sky was alive and holy. There was a new freshness, a new clarity and openness, as if everything had been cleansed and renewed. There would be a golden age. Fingal must have felt it, because when they reached the jetty again he threw an oar in the air, caught it again, and somersaulted into the water for pure joy.

“I’m alive!” he shouted. “I’m alive, and I live on Mistmantle! I’m an otter! Fish, friends, water! I’m an otter! Isn’t it wonderful!”

Queen Cedar summoned Urchin to the Throne Room. She had placed Crispin’s crown in his paws and returned the circlet to Urchin, so he was wearing it when he arrived. Catkin looked tiny on Crispin’s throne with Cedar beside her.

“We need to talk about the funeral,” she said as Urchin bowed. “Can you come here after mole watch this evening?”

“Yes, of course,” said Urchin.

“And we must talk about Corr,” continued Catkin. “As a Voyager I think he should be admitted to the Circle, don’t you?”

“That’s what I wanted to ask,” said Urchin.

“Do you want to tell him?” she asked.

“I think it would be more impressive coming from you,” said Urchin. “And Lord Crown…”

“We’re thinking about ‘Honorary Circle’ for him,” said Catkin. “Or, ‘Friend of Mistmantle.’ But we’ll do something for him. If Father hadn’t been sent into exile, Swan Isle and Mistmantle wouldn’t have come to support each other so much.”

“One other thing,” said Urchin. “I had your father’s permission, but…”

“Yes,” said Catkin. “I know. You don’t need mine, but yes.”

So this was it. He bowed, left the chamber, smoothed his ear tufts, straightened his sword belt and circlet, and strode along the corridor.

Sepia was singing softly to herself. She was up, looking fragile, but far better than she had only days ago. Her fur had been washed and brushed, and she was taking dead flowers from the vases and putting in fresh ones.

“Oh!” she said, and Urchin realized that she was looking at the top of his head. “They told me you’d been made a captain. Well done! It’s funny to think of it, really.”

“Let me do that for you,” said Urchin.

“No,” she said firmly. “I’m not that delicate. And I’m longing to get out to the fresh air. Can we go down to the sea? Don’t worry, I won’t blow away.”

Urchin decided to put off his carefully prepared speech until they were on the shore. They sat on the rocks at low tide as they had so often before, watching anemones and sea urchins while Sepia dabbled her paws in the water. Finally he decided that his speech was ridiculous, and simply asked her to marry him.

Urchin ran up the tower walls and tumbled in through a window of the workrooms, hugged Thripple and Needle (carefully), and ran down to the kitchens to kiss the cooks. At the Spring Gate he hugged Corr, Fingal, Arran, Tide, and Swanfeather, and a squirrel who just happened to be collecting water. He ran up the tower walls to find Juniper, knocked him off his paws with joy, and hugged Hope. He ran to Anemone Wood, where he turned cartwheels, danced Apple until she was breathless (which didn’t take long), and finally ran to the top of his old favorite tree, looked over the whole island, and shouted at the top of his lungs, “Lady Sepia!”

In the tower, Hope cleared up a few stems of thyme that Urchin had broken in his leap through the window.

“I think she said yes,” he said.

In the workrooms, Needle turned her embroidery frame to face the light. “Looks as if she’ll have him, then,” she remarked. “Wedding dresses are a pain to do.”

“Don’t worry,” said Thripple. “Sepia will keep everything simple.”

They did not inter King Crispin in the vault with the other kings and queens of Mistmantle. It would seem wrong, somehow. They carried him to a clearing in Anemone Wood and buried him among roots of bluebells and beech trees with a circle of white stones around his grave. Lord Crown circled the place three times, and laid mending-moss from Whisper’s grave above him. Juniper gave the blessing.

By that time, they all felt that the body they were burying was no longer Crispin and no longer needed, because Crispin was free, and would never wake to pain or sorrow again. Urchin understood at last what Hope had meant about joy and sorrow at the same time. More than ever, he felt glad and grateful for all Crispin had been, and, at this time of grieving, life was wonderfully good. When all was over he climbed back to the top of his favorite tree, because it would always remind him of one vital day in his life.

Leaving the funeral, all the otters suddenly felt they needed a good swim, and the moles felt the need to go belowground and get digging, squirrels ran up trees, and most of the hedgehogs went to sleep. Hope wasn’t sleepy at all and remained with Sepia, feeling he should look after her, even if she didn’t really need it. She was safe, and she and Urchin would be married. All was well, and Hope was happy. Soon it would be dusk, time to go up to Juniper’s turret and brew up some cordials for tired captains wanting to stretch their legs by the fire, but in the meantime—“Please will you sing, Lady Sepia?” he asked.