High Rhulain (Redwall)
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The otters of Green Isle have long been enslaved to the Wildcat Riggu Felis. They work and wait for the day their savior will arrive?the prophesized High Rhulain, who will lead them in battle and a return to glory. Meanwhile, young Tiria Wildlough, an ottermaid at Redwall Abbey, pines for her chance to learn the ways of the warrior, much against the wishes of her father. So when an injured osprey arrives at the Abbey, seeking help for its wounds and carrying tales of an embattled clan of otters, young Tiria knows what she must do.
yer rudders!” This threat was followed by the crack of a whip. Weilmark Scaut was a burly, ginger feral cat, hated by all the otters for his arrogance and cruelty. He stood on the pier end, coiling his long whip, watching the little fishing coracle heave to. As a weilmark he was a high-ranking officer of the catguards. Strutting back and forth, Weilmark Scaut began haranguing the otters. “Stir yer stumps, waterdogs! Git that catch up’ere, an’ stand t’be searched. Move yerselves!” Whulky and
ringed around the thick base of his throat. Brantalis grumbled, “I am thinking this was easier to put on than to get off!” Quartle gallantly offered his help. “Straighten your neck. Chin up, I mean beak up, old lad. I’ve got the confounded thing!” Portan assisted him in moving the coronet from about the bird’s neck. Both hares gasped in wonderment. “Oh my giddy aunt’s pinny, it’s a bloomin’ crown!” “No it ain’t, Porters, it’s a wotsisname . . . a tiara!” “Isn’t that the confounded thing that
civil tongue in her head. “Your father would not approve . . .” Before she could finish, Pitru sprang up, whipping out the large, broad-bladed scimitar which he now carried at all times. “Silence! You will begin again by addressing me as Commander. That is my title until I become Warlord.” After a moment’s silence, Atunra bowed stiffly. “Commander, your father would never permit all the guards to be inside the fortress, and all those slaves, too. Lord Felis would never allow it. Guards have
his guards. Shall I go an’ see wot he wants, Lord?” Riggu Felis leaned back, closing his eyes. “No, let him come to me. We’ll know soon enough.” The young cat swaggered up and stood in front of his father, who was feigning sleep. Pitru rattled his scimitar on the pier boards to gain attention, addressing his father insolently. “Hah, the mighty Lord of Green Isle, eh? Taking a nap while his slaves are escaping!” Felis opened one eye disdainfully. “Oh, it’s you. What’s all this nonsense about
beast alive for nearly half a day after I’ve skinned him. He’ll scream quite a lot, but that’s only to be expected. Now, the one thing I can’t abide is a liar. So this is your last chance, scorecat: Do you wish to tell me the truth? Who murdered my friend Atunra?” Yund gave a prolonged whimpering sob, then spoke. “Lord, I was only carrying out orders.” The warlord removed the axe from Yund’s throat. “I understand. You did what any obedient servant would. So, tell me more, who gave you the