High Rhulain

A mouse warrior, armed with a fearsomely beautiful sword, was at his side, holding his paw. Then, like a pair of leaves in an autumn breeze, they were travelling through the air. Below him, the outlaw could see Green Isle unfolding, its loughs, hills, streams and woodlands. The mouse warrior directed his gaze to where the Great Sea lapped the pale-sanded shores, his voice gave counsel to the dreaming prisoner.

“To die is easy for you, Shellhound, but you were ever a fighter. Do not let life slip away whilst there is hope. Behold the High Queen bringing a new dawn to Green Isle. Keep repeating her name. Rhulain! Rhulain!”

Leatho saw her then, the tall ottermaid clad in her green cloak and shining breastplate, marching purposefully. Queen of Green Isle! The High Rhulain!

The vision was shattered suddenly as the cage struck the wall and banged about crazily. Leatho woke only to look up and see the Lady Kaltag battering at the bars with a spear from above. Her face was twisted into a vengeful sneer as she shrieked at him.

“Murderer! Now you will pay for slaying my son Jeefra!”

Raising the spear high, she thrust downward at him.

25

Choked and blinded by thick clouds of billowing dust inside the stairwell, Skipper Banjon took a flying leap upward. The tough otter grabbed onto a pawhold in the rough sides of the stone funnel. Buffeted by falling slats of rotted wood, he caught the sounds of wild screams and cries coming from the room above. He drove himself frantically onward, scrabbling and clawing at rocky outcrops and splintered stair ends until he managed to haul himself onto the lopsided landing. Without a second thought for his own safety, Skipper hurled himself at the door, bursting into the room. Grubbing dust from his eyes, he found himself confronted by a fearsome sight.

In one corner, Girry had bravely placed himself in front of Abbess Lycian and Sister Snowdrop, shielding them both. The centre of the room was dominated by a huge male gannet, which was shrieking aggressively. As the bird turned to face him, Skipper noted that one of its legs was lame and that the wing on the same side flopped awkwardly. The gannet’s bright-blue ringed eyes focussed on the newcomer. Throwing back its big, cream-capped head, the bird opened its long, sharp beak and gave voice to an ear-splitting scream. “Yaaarrreeekeeekeeek!”

Skipper showed no fear but stood quite still, staring intently at the fierce bird. Calmly, he spoke to his friends. “Stay there, mates, don’t make a move or a sound ’til I tell ye. I ain’t got a clue wot a gannet’s doin’ up here so far from the sea.”

“Keekaaaheeee!” Pointing its beak at the otter chieftain, the gannet hobbled toward him swiftly.

Skipper was forced to dodge backward but continued speaking. “I think that bird’s been injured an’ driven in here by a storm, maybe the same one that brought the osprey to us. Now I don’t want to alarm ye, but it’s a big gannet, an’ it must be starvin’. I reckon it’ll have to kill to eat soon. So, anybeast got an idea wot t’do next?”

Girry kept his voice to a low murmur. “I was trying to steer it out of the window until it turned and cornered us. It got in that way, so it must be able to make its way out by the same route.”

Skipper chanced a quick glance at the open window with its broken frame and flapping rags of curtaining. “Good idea, young ’un, but we need somethin’ to help with the job, maybe to use as a shield.”

The Abbess came up with a swift solution. “Skip, just behind you, to the left, there’s an old bed against the wall, all broken and battered. I think the bird must have used it to rest on. If we could get behind the bed, it could be useful as a barrier. We may be able to force the bird out of the window with it.”

The gannet made a stab at Skipper with its sharp beak, but he dodged to the right, narrowly escaping it. “Aye, that’s wot we’ll do, marm. I’ll decoy this villain to one side. Soon as it moves, you three make a dash for the bed. Right, here goes, mates. Redwaaaaaalllll!”

Skipper launched himself at the bird, feinted to the right and thwacked its good leg with a powerful swipe of his rudder. It gave a surprised squawk as it fell in a flurry of feathers. Seizing their chance, Girry, the Abbess and Snowdrop raced to the bed. Skipper backed off hastily and joined them. Heaving the cracked old frame of timber and burst mattress upright, they got behind it.

Sister Snowdrop yelled exultantly, “Charge, mates. Charge!”

Holding the bed in front of them, they bulled straight into the gannet, catching it square on. With its damaged wing flapping loosely and its lamed leg not able to gain any purchase, the bird was driven back and bundled through the window in a mad flurry of black-tipped white feathers. It tried clinging to the sill, screaming and hissing, but the Abbess and Girry kicked at it until it had to let go.