Heart of the Staff - Complete Series

by Carol Marrs Phipps

  “As it turned out though, old Greedigut was terrified out of his skull and couldn't get rid of Rose and Lukus fast enough. Now that it's all over, I can look back and see that it was all quite easy.”

  “We've got the fire going and the bedrolls laid out,” said Lukus. “Can we all eat now? I'm starving.”

  “Fine idea,” said Fuzz. “However, we should be right quick about getting to sleep afterwards. We have a very long way to go tomorrow. We can talk after sunrise while we walk.”

  Lukus dug through his pack for his supper. Rose was nearly finished eating already.

  Spark wandered off and returned with some sort of very old fudge and a small pouch of marshmallows for Fuzz.

  “Thank you, Spark,” said Fuzz. “But wasn't it risky, going to the marsh after dark?”

  “I 'spose,” said Spark, champing a mouthful of his find, “but the only true fudge in the Forest flows from my volcano, so to get any around here means going to the marsh You know I've never been able to stomach peppermint.”

  “Good thing for that volcano, or you'd be one hungry dragon.”

  Soon the party was settled down for the night. Rose dreamed about Prince James, as she had nearly every night since she left Niarg. She and Lukus were at the Gobbler castle and she was in a wedding dress standing beside King Greedigut, about to be married to him. Lukus stood by helplessly, surrounded by Gobbler guards who kept taunting him to do something foolish so they could jab him with their spears. It was plain that she had no choice but to marry Greedigut if she valued Lukus's life. A great pink marshmallow spoonbill, dressed in a flowing red and gold robe, began the wedding ceremony. She recited her vows mechanically, numb with fear and disbelief. As Greedigut reached for her hand to put the ring on her finger, there was a terrible commotion and the entire room erupted into chaos as Prince James rode in on Spark. Spark roared and shot flames from his mouth, setting fire to Greedigut's beard. James swept Rose off her feet and onto Spark's back. He charged through the guards to rescue Lukus as well. Greedigut furiously shook his fist at them as they rode past, heading for the door.

  “Yea, right,” she said, popping wide awake at the unsettling image of James as right handsome, as he had been in so many of her nightly visions. She flopped over, plumping her pillow soundly, determined to go right back to sleep without giving the silly dream another thought. And that is just what she did.

  Chapter 48

  Razzmorten drew back the tall heavy curtain and tied it before stepping off the stool with a bound. Hubba Hubba winced at the sudden light. Razzmorten drug the screeching stool across the stone floor to the far side of the window before lunging onto it with one leg to grab for the other drape and tie it back. Hubba Hubba ruffled and shook off some of his stupor to glare resentfully at Razzmorten's cheery endeavors. He vastly preferred his wonderful dream about Pebbles to this blinding sunlight. “Thank you, old fart,” he thought, settling his beak into his breast feathers with a shake of his head.

  “What a beautiful day,” declared Razzmorten as he peered out the window and took a deep breath.

  “Yea. It will be when you close the drapes again,” thought Hubba Hubba, as he wiggled his beak further into his breast feathers to close his eyes.

  “What would you like for breakfast, fruit or vegetables?” said Razmorten. “Maybe some whole grain porridge?”

  “I'm not hungry,” rattled Hubba Hubba from beneath his ruffled crown feathers.

  “I see. Are you not feeling well? Perhaps if you tell me just how it is that you feel poorly, I could mix up something for you.”

  By this time all the sparrows had come closer to listen. Hubba Hubba shook his feathers, flinging dander into the sunlight. Suddenly he sleeked down, pointing himself at them. “Now there are six nosey pests, rather than three. Do I need this? Well, I'll tell ye: no, I do not. And if you want to know what I do want, I'd just like to be left alone for a change. Peace and quiet. Is that too much? Go build your nests. Beat it!”

  “Wrong side of his perch this morning, wouldn't you say?” said Razzmorten, sharing wide eyes with the sparrows. “I doubt that he'll be very proud of his outburst after he's had two shakes to consider things. Let's just leave him to himself for a bit.” The sparrows flitted back to what they had been doing at their nests, while Razzmorten went to his bedroom to read, leaving Hubba Hubba to mumble by himself.

  “Lot o' 'preciation he has,” he rattled from the very most guttural reaches of his crop. “Here I make my sacrifices, bringing messages about his grandchildren. And respect. I mean, what kind of respect is it to blind me with light and sadistic cheer, and six bouncy goody-goody little slaves to rub it in? Six instead of three. I'm not getting twice as much respect and service, here.” With a huff and an especially thorough shake of feathers, he turned his back on the brilliant morning and closed his eyes in search of his dream about Pebbles.

  “This isn't working,” he thought. “Why don't those bean brained sparrows shut up? 'Tweety, tweety, tweet...!' Great boundless Joy! The local twitterpates are jabbering all over outside. This is not working.” He turned back to point himself at the window. “I'll go tell them!” He paused, straightening up to shuffle from side to side. “Whoa! Too far to the sill.” But now he was making lunging thrusts at the window at each end of his perch, and he was starting to flap his wings. Now he was flapping furiously. At the fleeting thought of Razzmorten's suggestion of exercise, he let go. Before he could quite appreciate that he was truly aloft, his feet were planting themselves upon the warm stone window sill. He'd made it, and he wasn't even breathing hard. He forgot all about sleep. He looked to see if the sparrows had seen. They had. Six heads, each gawking broadside, had stopped in astonishment to take in his unexpected feat. They ducked out of sight into their nests at once.

  “Hey! You ones!” he called out. “It's all right! I'm not upset. In fact, I'm sorry about the things I said earlier. Really. Aw come on! Can't a fellow have a bad mood once in a while?”

  Head by head they reappeared in shocked wonder. “That's the first time that you've ever apologized for your nasty tongue,” chirped Tweet.

  “Yea? Maybe so. Think there's some hope for me after all?”

  “May be,” tweeted Squeak, “but you still have a huge way to go.”

  “Maybe you're right, but old habits die hard, don't you know. Give me some slack. I'm working on it.”

  “Hey, the master's developing humility,” squeaked Chirp. “And by the way, nice flight.”

  Hubba Hubba made an aloof about-face hop on the window sill, but he was beaming at the compliment. He fluffed up and preened here and there and then gave himself a thorough shake. When he smoothed down his plumage, he discovered that his black feathers had already gotten quite warm in the sun. He basked, letting his mind wander to pleasant images of Pebbles. After a good long spell in the mesmerizing warmth, he even fancied he saw her in a nearby apple tree. It was almost as though he heard her say: “I love you. C'mere.” It was so real that he found himself out the window, winging towards the apple tree. “My!” he said, coming to his wits. “I guess there's nothing for it but to see if I can actually make it to that tree.” It was nearly a furlong away, but it was a downhill glide from Razzmorten's tower, and he dutifully flapped his wings the whole distance. The next thing he knew, he was landing on a broad limb right beside the very love of his life. This was no daydream at all.

  Pebbles however, was not charmed by his arrival. She fluffed up as huge as possible and shrank her pupils to pinholes, making her eyes fiery red. “Bad boy! Bad boy!” she called out, madly wheeling and strutting back and forth. “Minuet! Minuet! Please get rid of this bad boy!”

  “Hubba Hubba!” cried Minuet, as she looked up from her chair in the shade. “You can fly again. Wonderful! Come down here and see me. Pay no mind to Pebbles. She's just being a brat.”

  Just then, he looked beyond Minuet into the courtyard and saw a personage who made him go apoplectically faint. She was sitting calmly with two stran
gers and King Hebraun. “What are you doing here, Ugleeuh?” he croaked, as his heart pounded in his chest. By now everyone was looking right at him, and he shrank back into the leaves.

  “Is this filthy bird yours?” cried Ugleeuh, spitting with scorn as she sprang to her feet. “And how dare he call me ugly! You should have him destroyed this minute.” The two strangers rushed to her at once, attempting to soothe her.

  This was too much for Hubba Hubba. “Help! Help! Help!” he cawed as he leaped into the air, flapping madly for Razzmorten's tower. He had no problem making straight for the window, but loft was a poser. He thought his heart and lungs were both going to burst before he got far enough up to fly in. He banged his keel painfully on the sill, sending him inside in a tumble of feathers to smack into his perch, knocking it over with a crash before skittering to a sliding halt on the tabletop. Razzmorten burst into the room, quite wide eyed.

  “Sorry for the mess, Wiz,” croaked Hubba Hubba, as he heaved and gasped for wind. “But Ugleeuh's down there in the garden with the king and queen and a couple of strangers. There's no telling what she came here for, but you know it ain't good. And now that she's seen me, she wants me destroyed. That's what chased me back in through the window. Man! My keel bone hurts. Can't you get her with some kind of wizard fire from the window here 'fore she does something terrible?”

  “The young woman out there does indeed look like the very picture of Ugleeuh, years ago,” said Razzmorten, not smiling at Hubba Hubba's consternation. “She looks enough like Ugleeuh to be her twin, removed in time. Even her behavior. They act alike. In fact, I was so taken by this that I went to great pains to determine if she wasn't under some divination, some spell to condemn her to a life as Ugleeuh's echo, but I found no such spell. She truly seems to be one of those once in a millennium coincidences. She's Princess Spitemorta of Goll. She's come here with her parents in hopes of making an alliance marriage with Lukus to unite Niarg and their realm. You've no reason to fear anything.”

  “Maybe we have another coincidence here, Wiz. This girl said she wanted me destroyed, remember? Why would some total stranger do that? Hey, I'm a bird! Threats to my life leave a lasting impression, and her impression feels just like Ugleeuh. That's my reason.”

  “You don't deserve to be so upset. Why don't I just go down there and see what's going on? Would that ease your mind?”

  Hubba Hubba looked very doubtful, but Razzmorten was already on his way out the door. “Wiz!” he cawed out. “Be careful! And hey, take Miss Toothyface, here, why don't you?”

  “I'm sure I can handle it myself,” said Razzmorten, tossing back a wide-eyed smile as the door went closed.

  “Durn him,” said Hubba Hubba, as Fifi added five or six enthusiastic thumps of her tail. He flew to the window to get further away from her and to watch the proceedings, while all six sparrows fluttered up to perch on either side of him. It was just as sunny, peaceful and still as before. Down below, grasshoppers clicked and buzzed. A mile away, a herd of cattle bawled while being driven to a new pasture. A church bell rang. Across the castle grounds by the apple tree, he could see the company, still stirring and pacing from his having been there earlier. He wasn't sure if he could hear voices. He spied Razzmorten, as his hat emerged from the shrubbery, near the tree. Now he could hear them talking. “Goll...Goll,” he murmered. “What does that remind me of? Without warning, he remembered the talk going on in Ugleeuh's cottage. “Ha!” he said with a lunge out the window. And here he was again, out in the air, making for the apple tree before he quite grasped what he was doing. Straining to make out faces as he swooped in, he failed to pick a landing and ended up sprawled across the briary crown of a rose bush, held fast by its thorns.

  “Hubba Hubba!” cried Queen Minuet, hurrying over to rescue him. “What will you do next?”

  Hubba Hubba gave her a grateful look, but immediately shouted: “Razzmorten! I just remembered! Ugleeuh's daughter was adopted by the king and queen of Goll! This princess looks like Ugleeuh because...!”

  “Fiend!” shrieked Queen Bee, springing to her feet. “How dare you invent connections between my daughter and that black hearted harpy!”

  Razzmorten raised his hands to silence everyone. “What are you saying, Hubba Hubba?” he said, shifting his hat to the back of his head. “Do you mean to tell us that Ugleeuh really did have a child?”

  “Absolutely,” said Hubba Hubba. “Did she have a child? You mean you didn't know? But, you're her Father. Surely you knew about the child, but just not about what became of her.” He paused to adjust a flight feather, letting go of it with a satiny snap. “Harbinger of family skeletons is not one of my sworn duties, don't you know. Hey, I'm innocent, here! Can I help where I've been? I mean, I know this stuff. Don't you want to know it? I just assumed that since Rose and Lukus knew, everyone did. Rose, for cryin' out loud, thought she was Ugleeuh's daughter, and that's why she and Lukus went to the forest to find her.” He ignored his stunned audience, suddenly finding feathers needing furious preening under his other wing.

  “Well!” declared Razzmorten roundly. “This is some piece of news. I suggest we all retire indoors to discuss it.” He deftly steered Minuet and Hebraun toward the castle.

  “These people each look like they've seen a ghost,” thought Hubba Hubba as he slowly bobbed along on Minuet's shoulder. “And that bunch from Goll simply look dangerous.”

  Once inside, Queen Bee collapsed onto the chair offered by King Hebraun. “What evil is this that your vile mistress has fabricated?” she screeched, as she bolted upright to glare at Hubba Hubba. “What does she hope to gain by spreading such filth?”

  Hubba Hubba drew back with a gasp.

  “Perhaps,” she growled, flinging her glare at Minuet as she grew shrill, “this goes deeper, still. Could this be a family plot by this house to destabilize Goll? Clever, clever. And so very like the diabolical behavior Ugleeuh has always specialized in.”

  King Brutelee was wide eyed with alarm, as he shook his head, raised his finger to his lips and came forth to kneel before her, taking up her hand and patting it. “Shhh!” he whispered. “Please think!”

  “It would be so like Ugleeuh to give her daughter away as a means to destroy those in power whom she'd always envied.” she declared with renewed vigor as she jerked her hand away from Brutlee's grasp. “I knew it was a mistake to trust her, but I wanted a child so badly that I let myself be blind to her evil.”

  “Bee!” shouted King Brutlee, standing up in front of her. The queen jerked back to stare up at him as though she had been slapped and then burst into sobs. He turned away from her and gazed in dismay at Spitemorta, as a palpable silence seized the room.

  Spitemorta sat lividly rigid on her chair with both hands balled into white knuckled fists. She stared back at him with a murderous look that sent a shiver through him. “So! This is all true!” she shouted, suddenly on her feet. “I really am the daughter of Bailitheoir Cailli!” She wheeled and tramped out. Bee rushed after her. Brutlee paused long enough at the door to share a hateful look of his own before following them.

  For a moment the room sat stunned. Hebraun let go of a huge breath as he searched for Minuet's eyes. “You know, this really could turn into some crazy war if we're not careful,” he said quietly, tapping at the arm of his chair.

  “I think we might be forgetting one important thing here,” said Razzmorten. “The king and queen of Goll were watching their long-standing lie about their daughter's adoption crumble right before everyone's eyes. What a loss of face. And what's worse, they'd never told her, especially not that she was the daughter of an evil sorceress. So here we do it with no warning. You can see why they're angry, but the fact remains that what was revealed was truth, and only a fool would start a war defending an outright lie. Lying to Spitemorta all these years might not have been the wisest thing, but as far as matters of state are concerned, I've not seen that Brutelee is any sort of fool at all.”

  “You're right, no doubt,” said
Hebraun. “We're being jumpy. This took us by surprise, too. Maybe we'd better give them time to calm down and put things into perspective and then let them know that their secret is safe with us and that it shall only become public knowledge if they themselves choose so. Agreed?” Everyone nodded.

  ***

  Spitemorta sat rod-straight on the seat as she and Brutlee and Bee traveled in their coach back to Goll. She stared out the window in icy silence. They sat by anxiously, exchanging occasional glances. Bee turned her handkerchief into a sweaty cork screw. Spitemorta sang inside. She had them at her mercy, and she intended to keep them there for good. They deserved it. How stupid of them keep such a secret from her. She was the daughter of the most powerful sorceress on the continent. She had wondered. No doubt she herself had great untapped powers. Well, that was certainly going to change. She'd make them find someone to help her develop her talents. And if she had to, she'd go to the Chokewoods and find her real mother and get some real training. Yes. Perhaps she would. Why not simply start with the best? She'd fix those sweety-sweet princesses for all their stupidity and then she'd enjoy it all with Lukus on the throne beside her. Together, they'd rule Goll and Niarg, conquering all the surrounding kingdoms, until they had the entire continent.

  Spitemorta bore more joy inside than she had ever known. Slowly she turned her eyes of ice upon her parents. “So,” she said in a voice devoid of emotion, as an evil grin spread across her lips. “There's something you owe me for all of this.”

  Chapter 49

  “James? Are you in here?” called Myrtlebell as she tiptoed into the dim light of Queen Ruella's sitting room. What light there was flickered from one stubby candle, casting chaotically dancing shadows up the walls between the rippling tapestries, each time a breeze scurried through the room from the open windows. James, still in mourning over the loss of his mother, sat bolt upright in a brocaded high backed chair. Myrtlebell thought it odd for him to sit so stiffly in such a plumply stuffed chair. “James?” she said in her most soothing voice. “Your father sent me to tell you that your guests have arrived.” She hesitated. “He also insists that I tell you that it would be awkward if you didn't make an appearance soon, since the party is in honor of your eighteenth birthday.”