High Rhulain

There was nobeast around the gatehouse wallsteps, so they took their food and adjourned there.

Tiria started immediately with Brantalis. “Listen, my friend. I know I can’t fly like you, but I must find the way to Green Isle. Are you willing to help?”

The barnacle goose clacked his beak resolutely. “I am thinking that I will help you, Tiria, after all your kindness to me. Here is the way Skyfurrows always take to Green Isle. Every autumn season we are flying down from the far northlands. Always we fly south, aye, fly south and follow the coast, until we are reaching the old mountain, home of the longears and great stripedog lords. Know you of it?”

Skipper Banjon did. “Aye, that’d be Salamandastron, where the fightin’ hares an’ Badger Lords dwell. I’ve heard of it but never been there meself. ’Tis a mighty trek from Redwall to that mountain, I can tell ye!”

Brantalis nodded sagely. “A mighty trek, indeed, for earthcrawlers such as you. But I am thinking, there is a better route. If Brantalis could not fly, he would use the River Moss, north of here. I could speak the way to you, whilst you mark it down. The creatures of the Red Walls are good at marking ways down I am thinking.”

Tiria thumped the wallsteps with her rudder. “Of course, a map! It would make things a lot simpler if I had a map to guide me!”

Brink raised his spiky eyebrows. “Oh, lots easier, missy, but ye forgot to mention that ye’ll need a boat to make yore journey in. No otter could swim o’er the Great Western Sea alone. ’Tis impossible!”

Banjon merely winked at his Cellarhog friend. “Don’t ye fret, matey. If’n my Tiria needs a boat, ye can wager she’ll soon git one, won’t ye, gel?”

Tiria shrugged, as though the matter were no great concern. “Aye, I’ll get a boat, one way or another. Now, after supper we’ll ask Sister Snowdrop to draw up the map, exactly the way in which Brantalis describes it to her. Good, that’s that settled! So, Pandion my friend, tell me about your home. What’s it like on Green Isle?”

The osprey regarded her with his savage golden eyes. “Kaharr! If I knew the way to my home, I would fly there this day. Green Isle is a place of great beauty, with soft morning mists, mountains, loughs and rivers full of fine fish. Kraak! But it is also an island of much evil and danger. Cats rule there—big, cruel, warlike beasts. One called Riggu Felis is their warlord. He it was whom I wounded badly, when he and his two sons tried to kill me for sport. There are also seadogs there, and riverdogs, just like you, Tiria. But, alas, they live under the cat’s paw, they are slaves, and runaways, outlaws. There is a big timber fortress at the head of a lake. The cats have ruled there since back into the mists of time. You will not be welcome on Green Isle. It belongs now to Riggu Felis and his warriors!”

Tribsy gave forth a deep mole growl. “Hurrrrr! Us’n’s not a-feared o’ ee catters. We’m bee’s gurt Redwall wurriers!”

Brinty clenched his paws truculently. “Aye, and we’re great fighters, too. Those water rats soon found that out when we whacked them with our staves!”

Tiria shook her head. “I’m sorry, mates, but you won’t be going. I couldn’t risk your lives. Since the dream was mine, I feel I must fulfill it alone.”

Skipper placed his paws around the crestfallen pair. “She’s right, buckoes. Ye’ve always been good friends t’my Tiria, young Girry, too, an’ I thank ye kindly. But ’twould be too perilous to risk yore lives, far from yore Abbey in a strange land. Besides, there was no mention or sign in Tiria’s dream commandin’ anybeast to go but her.”

Brink suddenly came up with a practical idea. “Why don’t ye take the big fish ’awk with ye, miss? Granted, ’e don’t know the way, but I wager Pandion would be of service to ye when ye get to the isle, eh?”

Brantalis favoured Brink’s scheme. “I am thinking this is a good idea, yes! I cannot go until when the autumn leaves fall, when my skein comes down the coast from the north. I will know when the time is. Then I will be flying to the shores to meet them. Skyfurrows always fly together. So I am thinking, it will be many moons before I join my family. The hookbeak should go with you, Tiria!”

Pandion Piketalon hopped up onto the battlements. Spreading his wings, he stared regally down his lethal beak at Brantalis. “Karralah! I go to Green Isle with my friend Tiria. Let that waddling flatbeak linger here until he ventures forth to meet with his kind. Pandions do not fear flying alone. I need no gaggle around me!”

The barnacle goose flared up, beating his heavy wings aggressively. “Brantalis is thinking he was not named flatbeak. Beware, fish eater! A Skyfurrow’s wings can break bones!”

Tiria was forced to come between the big birds. “Don’t start again, you two! There’s no cause for all this disagreement and wing flapping. Either make your peace or begone from here. It is against our laws to battle within the walls of this Abbey!”