High Rhulain

Banya Streamdog and six sturdy otters emerged from the waters beneath the pier, firelight playing off their sleek backs as they moved like night shades, with scarcely a ripple to betray their presence. Holding a paw to her lips, Banya made for the otterwives, whispering to them, “Wait and be ready when Lorgo gives the signal!”

Hope surged through Whulky and Chab as the tall, sinewy Lorgo Galedeep surfaced alongside them. “Stay put, mates. Ye can’t make a move until the action starts. Chab, don’t fret, bhoyo, I’ve brought some champion riverdogs to git yore babies away safe.”

Leatho Shellhound, accompanied by a dozen armed otters, stole from the lake, a short way from the left side of the pier. Directing them by signals, he sent his warriors in a long arc around to the darkness behind the fire. The outlaw set a stone to his sling and waited. Soon he was rewarded by the call of a nightjar from the right side of the pier. Big Kolun and his band had surfaced and were in position. Leatho whirled his sling, aiming at the backside of a catguard who was leaning on his spear close to the fire.

It was a perfect shot: The stone struck its target, not slaying the cat but creating the desired effect. Arching his back and yowling in pain, the catguard stumbled into the flames at the fire’s edge. His companions swiftly hauled him back, shouting out in confusion.

“That was a slingstone! What’s goin’ on?”

“Somebeast’s out there, look!”

The outlaw ran forward, whirling his sling as he yelled out a challenge. “Yerra, ye mangy scum, the Shellhound’s a-comin’!”

Guards jumped down from the pier to join the others. They advanced on Leatho cautiously, wondering if he had brought clanbeasts with him. The outlaw bolstered their confidence: He slung off a few more stones, carefully calculated to miss them. Roaring with laughter, he danced a jig on the lakeshore, then scampered off into the water.

One of the scorecats urged the rest forward, shouting to them, “It’s a single otter. Mad fool, what’s he up to? Get him!”

They charged forward but halted at the water’s edge. Aware that the cats were fearful of water, Leatho swam out a short way, then commenced taunting them.

“Come on, ye mangy-tailed cowards! Scared o’ gettin’ yore paws wet, are ye?”

Spears, lances and arrows were hurled at him. Right at the last moment he submerged, only to pop up again in another place.

“Is that the best ye can do? Send out yore best warrior! Hah, that’d be ole half-face, wouldn’t it? I hear he was defeated by a bird—was it a sparrow or a wren?!”

Whilst the diversion was being created, Leatho’s crew came out of the firelight and began attacking the catguards’ rear. Roused by the commotion, Riggu Felis bounded out onto the pier, single-bladed axe in paw. He was accompanied by Weilmark Scaut, who recognised Leatho’s voice. “It’s the Shellhound, I’ve got a score t’settle with that ’un!”

The warlord dropped on all fours, peering through the board spaces to assure himself that the captives were still there, bound to the pier struts. Straightening up, he growled, “Then get down there and take him alive, Scaut. Alive, d’ye hear me? Get some of those otterslave fishing boats and cut him off, encircle him. But remember, I want him alive!”

As the weilmark went off to do his bidding, Riggu Felis turned to Groodl and his guards, who were grouped around the fire on the right lakeshore. “Over here, quick, all of you. Follow Weilmark Scaut!”

Jeefra and Pitru, newly fitted out with helmets, jerkins and spears, were among the group who hurried off to the left.

As soon as the fire on the right was deserted, Big Kolun and his crew emerged from the shadows, thrusting their torches into the flames. Then they began hurling them at the huge timber fortress. Riggu Felis leaped aside as a blazing torch landed on the pier close to him. With his chain mail mask glittering weirdly in the light of the flames, he called urgently to the guards deployed on the left shore.

“Scaut, get your command back over here! They’re trying to fire the other side of the fortress!”

The weilmark was loth to leave the outlaw Shellhound uncaptured. He issued swift orders to Groodl. “Scorecat, keep half your cats on shore, send the rest out in the boats. Remember, he must be taken alive. The rest of you, follow me!”

The otters they had been fighting suddenly dispersed into the darkness, leaving Scaut’s contingent a free path back. Jeefra and Pitru both wielded paddles in one of the six fishing coracles on the lake. In unexperienced paws, the little craft blundered about as Leatho drew them away in a wild chase.

Once the left shore was clear of guards, the otters came out of the shadows again. Making for the fire, they did exactly as Kolun and his crew had. Igniting more torches from the blaze, they hurled them at the left side of the fortress, causing widespread confusion.