High Rhulain

29

Leatho Shellhound had decided on a course of action. His first job was to break out of the cage. But where then? It was far too high up for him to reach the pier below, so he planned on going upward. He would climb into the chamber above, through the window, from whence his prison was suspended. It would be a risky business, but the outlaw realised it was his only avenue of escape. Looking down through the floor bars, he checked below, lest any guards were watching. The pier and the lake beyond it lay deserted. Leatho did not stop to wonder why. Instead, he focussed on trying to loosen one of the roof timbers. Attempting to prevent the cage from hitting the side of the tower—and doing so with as little noise as possible—was no easy task. The roof bars were made of heavy wood, quite thick, and were firmly nailed in place with iron spikes. The outlaw otter attacked them with his bare paws, pulling, pushing, clawing and scrabbling, but to no avail. Clearly, it was going to be a long and painstaking chore. He began working on the iron spikes, desperately trying to budge just one. After a while his paws were skinned and bleeding from the effort, forcing him to take a rest.

As the Shellhound was licking his scratches and wishing he had some sort of tool to help, he heard the door creak in the upper chamber. Quickly he wrapped the severed rope ends around his paws and hung there limply, as though he were still bound and helpless.

Weilmark Scaut had decided to look in on the prisoner. He leaned over the windowsill and rattled the cage bars with his whipstock. “Hah, still alive, are ye, Shellhound? Wot’s it feel like, hangin’ up here without any vittles or water, eh?”

Determined not to rise to the bait, Leatho hung limply, head lolling forward, feigning unconsciousness.

Scaut thrust the whip through the bars, managing to tickle his victim’s ears with it. He whispered scornfully, “Ain’t so bold an’ sprightly now, are ye? Well, you just stay there like a goodbeast ’til yore rebel friends surrender. Aye, then we’ll take ye down, an’ I’ll give ye a proper taste o’ this lash. Pleasant dreams!”

Leatho heard him retreating back into the chamber, slamming the door as he left.

A dark shadow hovered over him, and a voice nearby whispered, “Raaaark! He is gone. Ye could do with some help.”

Leatho found himself looking up into the savage, goldenrimmed eyes of a mighty hawk as it hovered over the cage. He loosened his paws from the ropes.

“Who are ye, mate, an’ what’re ye doin’ here?”

The big bird perched on the cage roof. “Kraagarr! I am the enemy of all cats. I have been watching ye trying to get out of this thing.”

The otter smiled ruefully. “Ain’t havin’ much luck, am I?”

The hawk shook its head. “I will help ye. Push upward on this middle bar, an’ I will pull. Ready!”

Leatho began pushing, grunting with exertion as he set his paws to the bar. The big bird wrapped its fearsome talons around the bar. Flapping its powerful wings, it strained upward, pulling as Leatho pushed.

Crack! The bar snapped straight through its centre. Releasing its hold on the broken bar, the hawk hovered in the air for a brief moment, its fierce unwinking eyes scanning the area. “Yeeaakkah! Pandion Piketalon must go before cats come with bows and slings!”

Leatho waved to his newfound friend. “My thanks to ye, Pandion. I am called Leatho Shellhound. I, too, am an enemy of the cats. Mayhaps we’ll meet again.”

The osprey circled overhead gracefully. “Hayaarr! We will make the cats weep blood, Leatho. I will bring the Rhulain and her warriors to help ye!”

Without waiting for a reply, Pandion soared off swiftly into the distance, leaving the outlaw with the name pounding through his brain: Rhulain! Rhulain! The High Queen of Green Isle was coming, just as Ould Zillo had prophesied. He repeated the word aloud like a magic spell. “Rhulain! Rhulain!”

A quick downward glance assured Leatho that all was still quiet below. There was neither sign nor presence of catguards watching. By grabbing one end of the broken roof bar and yanking it sharply downward, he managed to pull it loose. It was a jagged length of timber with an iron spike through the top—crude but nevertheless a fearsome weapon in the paws of the outlaw. Clambering out onto the roof of his former prison, Leatho shinned up the short length of rope and hauled himself over the windowsill. He went into a fighting crouch, wielding his improvised club, ready to face anybeast who stood in his way. But the room was empty, save for a table and a few benches. Leatho crept quietly to the door, holding his ear to it. The two catguards out on the stairhead were talking. Leatho eavesdropped on their conversation.

“Huh, we’ve been stuck here guardin’ this door all day. When’s Scaut goin’ to send us a relief, eh? When?”

The other guard replied gruffly, “I don’t know. Why don’t ye stop complainin’ t’me? Go an’ ask him. I dare ye!”

Leatho felt the speaker lean his back against the door as he continued taunting his companion.

“Go on, mate! You go down there an’ tell ole Felis you’ve stood guard long enough. Have ye heard wot ’appened to Yund? Hah, ye’d end up bein’ sliced to bits, just like him. Scaut might chop ye into smaller pieces, ’cos you ain’t even a scorecat. Yore only a . . . aaaaagh!”

The door swung inward, bringing the catguard stumbling backward with it. Leatho slew him with a single blow of his club. However, before he could get to the other, the catguard was already rushing downstairs, yelling, “Help! Escape! Shellhound’s on the loose! Escape!”

Leatho heard the rattle of spears and Scaut roaring like a madbeast, “Don’t let him escape! Get up there an’ capture him, quick!”

Footpaws thudded upon the stairs as catguards began racing upward. The outlaw seized a jug of water, together with a platter of bread and half a fish, which the two guards had been sharing. He retreated swiftly back into the chamber. Dragging the dead guard out of the way, he barred the door with the table and benches. Now nobeast could reach him, but it was a tricky situation. He was virtually being held prisoner again.

He retrieved the spear, which had fallen in with the guard, then stood swigging water and stuffing down bread and fish. The door began to shudder under blows from the guards’ weapons, but it was a solid oaken door and withstood their efforts well. The banging went on for a while, then suddenly ceased.

The next thing Leatho heard was Scaut calling to him, “Shellhound, I warn ye! Open this door, or it’ll go badly for ye!”

The outlaw otter laughed recklessly. “If’n ye want to see how badly things’ll go, then try openin’ the door an’ comin’ in here, ye lard barrel!”

When Riggu Felis received the news of his captive’s escape from the cage, he went into a fit of rage. Bounding out onto the pier with a score of catguards, he glared up at the empty cage hanging beneath the high window. The chain mail half-mask rattled against his fangs with each sharp intake of breath as he turned to the guards.

“Archers, fire arrows through that window!”

Leatho heard the command and threw himself flat against the window wall. Three shafts made it into the chamber; two stuck into the floor, while the third thudded into the door. Other arrows did not make it that far and stuck like feathered twigs into the wooden tower walls.

The outlaw presented himself at the open window space, grinning down at the warlord. “Is that the best ye can do, skinface? Try again!”

Leatho watched the guards fire more arrows and moved swiftly out of the way. The cats were selecting their next arrows, under their leader’s exhortations.

“Kill him! Wound him! Anything, but get him!”

Before they had a chance to notch arrows to strings, the carcass of the guard, whom Leatho had slain earlier, came hurtling down. Felis jumped out of the way, but the body struck two archers, stunning one and killing the other.

A booming shout rang out from the pier end. “Good shot matey, hang on, we’re comin’!”

Big Kolun Galedeep and a mob of otters came thundering along the pier. Riggu Felis yelled, “Archers, fire at those otters and retreat. Back inside!” The battle had begun.

As the fortress doors slammed shut, the pier and the shore to either side of it were swarming with otterclan warriors. Rocks and stones, arrows and lances hit the fortress walls.

Leatho leaned out of the high window, roaring his warcry. “Eeeee aye eeeeeh! Forward the clans! Eeeee aye eeeeh!”

Alerted by the cries of battle, Scaut came scurrying downstairs with his guards. His voice was shrill with surprise as he met with Riggu Felis.

“Lord, are we under attack?”

It was the wrong thing to say. A butt from the wildcat’s steel-helmeted head sent the weilmark sprawling.

“Of course we’re under attack, you blockheaded dolt! Call the guards out of the barracks, get them here quick!”

Weilmark Scaut obeyed his master’s command hastily, but his face was a picture of bewilderment as he accosted the last guard to leave the barracks. He grabbed the cat and shook him.

“There must be more’n threescore missin’. Where’ve the rest of ’em gone?”

The shaking guard’s teeth rattled as he tried to explain. “They’ve gone with Commander Pitru. I thought ye knew!”

Scaut shook him harder. “Gone! Gone where?”

The hapless guard tried to salute as he replied, “Lookin’ for otters. They went out the back o’ the barracks. Commander Pitru said it was Lord Felis’s orders.”

Scaut shoved the puzzled guard away from him. “Go an’ report to Lord Felis right now. Tell him wot you’ve just told me. Go on!”

The weilmark took his own good time getting back to the fortress doors, not wanting to be around the warlord when the catguard made his report. Riggu Felis heard the guard’s report without comment. Then, spotting Scaut loitering a safe distance away, he beckoned him over. The weilmark scurried to his master’s side, where he listened whilst the wildcat spoke scathingly of his son.

“You’ve heard, I suppose. The cowardly kitten has cut and run! I should have expected it. Hah, I don’t need that traitorous idiot and his followers. At least now I won’t have to watch my back while I’m facing the otters. Once those rebels are defeated, we’ll hunt the bold Commander Pitru down. I’ll kill him personally, just as I should have long ago, instead of letting him become a threat to me. The filthy little turncoat!”

A wild laugh nearby startled Riggu Felis. There stood Lady Kaltag. The guards had been dismissed from her chamber door to assist in defending the fortress, leaving her to wander freely. She looked manic and unkempt, her silken robes stained and tattered, her red-rimmed eyes blazing hatred at her husband. With neither the time nor the desire for a confrontation, the warlord muttered to Scaut, “Who let her out? See to it that her chamber is guarded. Get her out of my sight!”

Kaltag was hauled off by four guards, kicking and scratching, as she poured scorn on her husband. “Aye, kill your son, my lord, just as you murdered his brother! You won’t find my Pitru as easy to slay, oh no! Hahaha, he’s left you in a fine mess, hasn’t he? Taken a band of guards and broken free of your vile schemes! How are you going to defend this fortress now, O Lord of Green Isle? Hahahahaaaa!”

The wildcat brandished his axe, shaking it at her. “Get that madbeast out of here, Scaut. Lock her up!”

The weilmark hurried to assist his guards in dragging Kaltag off, but her mocking shouts could still be heard, echoing down the passage.

“Your enemies will dance on your grave, Felis! Evil has its own reward, a long slow death. Hahahahaaaa!”

Bravely the otterclans were fighting their way along the pier outside. Arrows, spears, javelins and all manner of missiles rained through the slitted defence windows at them, with long pikes bristling from every opening. Banya Streamdog and her slingers retaliated with heavy volleys of stones. So fierce was their assault that it allowed Big Kolun to lead his comrades in a wild forward charge. Otters fell on either side of the Galedeep chieftain, but he thundered recklessly on, batting away shafts and spears with his big oar. Kolun made it to the fortress gates, where he was joined by Lorgo, who had led a party up from the shore. Both brothers raised a bloodcurdling warcry.

“Galedeep! Galedeep! Eeeeeee aye eeeeeh!”

With a hefty swipe of his oar, Kolun shattered a pike that was thrust at him through an opening. Lorgo caught a javelin. Hurling it back through a window slit, he shouted to Kolun, “This gate’s well defended, mate. Wot d’we do now?”

The big otter battered at the thick double doors with his oar butt until his paws stung from the vibrations. “We need somethin’ to burst the doors with. A tree trunk’d make a good batterin’ ram !”

After a swift look around, Lorgo replied, “A good idea, but I don’t see any big ole tree trunks lyin’ about, d’you?”

Weilmark Scaut could be heard issuing orders from inside. “Cease firin’ ! Put up yore arms an’ shutter off all openin’s.”

Immediately the battle halted. Kolun signalled the clans to leave off their assault on the fortress.

Banya Streamdog came in a running crouch to the doors, where Kolun stood leaning on his oar. “I don’t know why, but the cats have stopped fightin’.”

Banya pointed. “Look, up there!”

Fastened to a pikeshaft, a white cloth waved from an upperstorey window. A nervous catguard popped his head out. “Truce, we crave a truce! My Lord Felis would talk with ye!”

Lorgo murmured to Kolun as he eyed the catguard, “Talk? Wot d’we want to talk for, mate?”

Banya Streamdog shrugged. “May’ap ole chopface wants to invite us t’dinner. Let’s find out.”

Cupping both paws about his mouth, Kolun called to the guard, “Let Felis do his talkin’, but no funny business, d’ye hear?”

Garbed in full war armour and cloak, the warlord appeared at the open window, two storeys up. Drawing back the chain mail half-mask, he exposed his flayed lower face and began speaking.

“I call upon you to surrender. Your lives will be spared!”

Big Kolun roared back a cheery reply. “By me rudder, that’s very nice o’ ye, half-gob! But wot if’n we don’t feel like surrenderin’? Wot then, eh?”

The wildcat had been expecting this reaction. He leaned on the windowsill, his face set in a ghastly smile. “My fortress is secure, it won’t fall to your puny attempts. If you continue to defy me, I will have Shellhound dragged from the room where he is hiding, up there at the top of the tower. Then I will return him to you, bound in a sack and flung from that window. I am not unreasonable—you have until dawn tomorrow to give me your answer.”

Before Riggu Felis could speak further, Leatho was bellowing from the high chamber window, “Pay no heed to boneface, mates. His cats have already tried that once an’ failed. I’ll be happy to give ’em a second try! Kolun! Banya! You carry on fightin’, mates. The High Rhulain’s on her way!”

Big Kolun waved his oar to the clanbeasts. “Ye heard wot the Shellhound said, buckoes? Let’s show these whiskery scum we’re here t’finish the job!”

The warlord’s grating shouts rang out. “Wait! Let me finish what I was about to say. Then, if you feel like charging, let me be the last to stop you!”

Banya replied mockingly, “Well, spit it out, skin-gums. Then stand by t’die!”

Riggu Felis continued with his ultimatum. “Whether or not Shellhound dies tomorrow does not matter. If you attack my fortress, I will start executing the slaves, family by family, the youngest first. Consider this, for their deaths will be upon your own heads!”

He vanished from the window, which was speedily shuttered. In the silence which followed, Banya stared grimly at the closed window.

“We’re left without any choice, mates. We can’t attack!”