High Rhulain

The banging stopped abruptly. In the silence which followed, Leatho heard the warsong clearly. It was coming from the banksides and the lake. He saw the long shape approaching in rising daylight—some sort of craft, headed straight for the pier. Bursting out in a great howl of joy, the outlaw otter began marching around the chamber, bellowing out the warsong of the otterclans.

“Wildloughs, Wavedogs, Streambattles, too,

Riverdogs, Streamdivers, Galedeeps true.

Death rides the wind, tell the enemy,

the clans have risen, ee aye eeeeeeeeeh!

Show no quarter, stand up an’ fight,

blood and steel be our birthright.

Oh Rhulain, set your children free,

the clans have risen, ee aye eeeeeeeeh!

Foebeast, weep for all you’re worth,

curse the one that gave you birth.

Red the streams run to the sea,

the clans have risen, ee aye eeeeeeeeeh!

In the times to come I’ll say,

I was one who fought that day.

Gave my family liberty,

Ee aye, ee aye, ee aye eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh!”

The sound of the warsong rose to a bloodcurdling roar, echoing and reverberating around the shores and over the lake. Wakened by the eerie din, Riggu Felis burst from his chamber, donning his war armour and kicking at guards who got in his path. He arrived at the barred fortress gates. Removing his helmet and chain mail half-mask, the warlord pressed his eye to a spyhole. He could not yet see anything clearly, but the otters’ warsong was getting closer, growing in volume.

Weilmark Scaut came stumbling up, his coarse features blanched with fright. “Lord, they’re coming!”

He reeled sideways from the blow Riggu Felis dealt him.

“I can hear they’re coming, idiot, but where exactly are they? Do you know?”

Holding his aching cheek, Scaut whimpered. “Sire, the upstairs guards say they’re on both banks, an’ they’ve got a big raft comin’ up the middle o’ the lake. It looks like they’ve come t’do battle, Lord!”

The wildcat eyed his trembling weilmark coldly. “And the Shellhound, haven’t they dragged him from that chamber yet?”

Scaut tried to back off, but his shoulders were already against the wall. He shook his head fearfully. “No, Lord, he’s barricaded the door with some furniture. They say it’s impossible to reach the Shellhound.”

The warlord licked his flayed gums, hissing savagely, “Take all the upstairs guards and go to the slave compound. Bring me two, no, three families of otterslaves. Make sure they have young ones with them. Fetch them here to me. We’ll see if those rebels feel like rushing into a fight when they witness what I’m going to do!”

As Scaut hurried off, the warlord shouted to the guards who were packed in the hallway, “Open the doors, and follow me out onto the pier!”

Lady Kaltag had her ear pressed to the door of the chamber in which she was imprisoned. Outside, she heard Scaut bellowing at the four guards who were standing sentry on her door.

“You two, follow me to the slave compound! You others, go an’ get the ones who are tryin’ to capture Shellhound. They ain’t goin’ to get him out o’ there, leave him. Meet us at the compound. Move yoreselves!”

Kaltag waited until it was quiet outside before coming out of her room. Holding two blazing torches, she ascended to the antechamber at the top of the tower stairs and hid until she heard the catguards running downstairs to the slave compound. Now nobeast was outside the chamber which held Shellhound. Chuckling to herself, the demented cat crept along to it.

She tapped on the battered door, calling in a singsong voice, “Are ye coming out, murderer?”

Leatho’s voice came defiantly back at her. “No! Are ye comin’ in to get me?”

She cackled insanely. “Heeheehee! I can reach you without having to enter the room. Now you must pay for the death of my son Jeefra. Heeheeheehee!”

Leatho’s reply sounded puzzled. “Wot Jeefra? I don’t know anybeast named Jeefra!”

Kaltag screeched. “Liar! You and your otters slew him! Now you will roast before you reach Hellgates!”

More crazy laughter followed. Then something struck the door. The timbers were bone dry and heavily splintered from the guards’ axes and spears. In a trice, flames were licking at the door. Kaltag was screaming like a madbeast as she tore down wall hangings and flung them on the blaze. She had dropped the other torch on the floor. Standing back from the blazing door, she went into a crazy shuffling dance, her eyes glittering in the firelight as she crooned, “Burn! Burn! You cannot escape a mother’s vengeance! Hahahaheeeeheeee!”

The entire fortress was built of timber, mainly pine and spruce logs, all old and dry. Flames raced unchecked along the landing, ignored by Kaltag, who was screeching and dancing as tongues of flame licked greedily at her tattered cloak and gown.