I'm overlooking something. If I remain completely still until Spitemorta and Demonica return, I'll be long dead when they return, regardless of when that is. Why do I keep bothering with this? They're not coming back, and I certainly don't want them to, anyway. Is there anything else I might try?”
“What do you keep going on about, Fuzz?” said a bat as it dropped to the floor next to his face.
“Taflu, is that you?”
“Yea. And what is this strange thing you're doing on the floor?”
“You can talk,” said Fuzz.
“I've been talking to you every day for years, Fuzz. How could you possibly be surprised?”
“Well, I've been talking to you bats on and off for the whole time I've been tied up down here, and I've gotten no response from the ceiling except for twitters. When I first got here, Flit and Hedfan were talking and I sent them on an errand, but after Demomica and Spitemorta tied me up, I've gotten nothing. You bats seemed to have lost the ability of speech, Taflu. The magic in the forest is fading and everything is returning to what it was, including you bats.”
“Huh!” said Taflu. “Well, maybe I'm just exceptional. I am a different species, after all.”
“What?”
“Maybe I can talk without magic.”
“Oh...well...maybe. Taflu. Do you think you could chew through these rawhide whangs that have me trussed up like some animal ready to go on the spit?”
“Sure. I wondered how you did that on purpose, 'till you said someone tied you.” said Taflu as he set about gnawing.
Fuzz sighed with enormous relief. He would live a little longer after all. “How come you didn't answer when I was talking to you all a little while ago?”
“Well, I did the moment I heard you. I'm sorry. I was asleep after being out hunting until it got light.”
“I'm certainly grateful for your help, now,” said Fuzz, as his legs released with a snap. “After all, you are indeed saving my life.”
Taflu nibbled industriously at the bindings around his wrists, and suddenly they began a most painful tingling. He gave a wincing grimace as he gingerly rubbed them, and before they had recovered much at all, his ankles gave way with a pop and the unholy tingling began with a vengeance in his feet.
“Thank you, thank you, Taflu,” said Fuzz through gritted teeth. “The first chance I get, I'll get you a big jar full of donkey blood or sheep blood so you can take a night off from your hunting.”
“Really? That would be a treat, Fuzz.”
“Well, that certainly isn't much for saving a fellow's life. If there's ever anything else you'd like, just let me know and I'll see what I can do.”
“That's nice Fuzz, but chewing you loose was nothing, and I'm a bat after all. All I need is food and a dark place to hang.” And with a snicker he flew back up to join his companions.
***
Edward lay still as a newborn fawn behind the granite rock where Mary had shoved him, until long after the only sounds to be heard were the leaves of grass stirring in the evening breeze. His stout little heart had shored up all it could manage and at last he gave way, crying out with whooping sobs through the sleeves of his sweater into roots of the grass in the pungent sod where he lay.
After a time, with the last his tears drying on his face, something gently tugged at his collar and he looked up at the giant bird who had been standing vigil over him. “Ceidwad! You stayed!”
“I expect your heart still wants to break,” said Ceidwad with a deep reedy rasp, as she delicately rattled her enormous beak along the length of a lock of his hair.
“You talk!”
“Only when we must. Edward, your mother needs your help. She needs you to be brave. Climb onto Lladdwr this minute. We must be off to the dragons.”
Lladdwr studied him with one eye for just a moment, then quickly stepped forth and settled onto his breastbone. Edward hurriedly clambered onto his saddle as best he could with legs too short for the stirrups.
“Let's go,” said Edward as he looked back to see Ceidwad ready to follow. “I sure hope this takes me to the dragons.”
“We're quite aware of the way,” said Lladdwr resonating in a voice like Ceidwad's only much deeper.
“Let's go fast!” cried Edward with startling exuberance, as he grabbed the cantle of his saddle and shook it back and forth.
“Say something if I frighten you.”
Edward hugged Lladdwr's thick, fluffy neck for his kindly tone, and at once the gigantic bird surged forward and kept gathering speed until Edward checked the ground to see if they had not actually taken to the air. He clung to the saddle for dear life but refused to let on. He'd never hurt his wonderful big bird's feelings.
***
It was bad enough that Myrtlebell and Mary found themselves bound and gagged, being shoved and prodded and made to stand before the thoroughly tattooed and nearly naked Gobbler king in his throne room by their captors, but it was much worse to have to submit to all of this while shackled to Spitemorta and Demonica at the same time.
“Your Majesty,” said the captain, who was also scantily clad and tattooed from head to toe, “these women were discovered trespassing on your lands.”
King Talorg stood up smartly from his throne and paced disdainfully about the women, staring at first one, then another of them, giving particular scrutiny to Spitemorta before returning to his seat. He sat for a moment tapping the arm of his throne. “Captain Girom,” he said at last, with a nod at Spitemorta, “loose the gag of that young dark haired runk and bring her here.”
Girom thumped his breast with his fist in an obedient salute and yanked the gag from Spitemorta's mouth, jerking her head and clacking her teeth together painfully. She gave him a look of hatred for his efforts as he grabbed her by the hair and shoved her onto her knees before the king. She shared her hateful look with him as well.
“So, Ugleeuh,” said Talorg with a smile. “You defy the Pit Master and return.”
Spitemorta stared at him blankly.
“You deny this?” he asked.
“Of course, you fool, you idiot! I am not Ugleeuh! I'm...!” Suddenly she tasted blood. Her head throbbed and her vision was awry. As she tried to clear her mind, she realized that she'd been kicked in the mouth. She was too furious to put her thoughts in order. She saw him motion to the captain. The captain handed him her staff.
“Yes, yes,” said Talorg, gloating at her horrified expression. “I believe this is the source of most of your power, is it not?”
She stared at him.
“What? Nothing to say? Well,” he walked slowly over to where she kneeled, utterly speechless.
“I remember the Staff quite well, my dear, and what you did to us with it. 'Olc Slat' we called it, back when you were using it to demean us.” He suddenly pointed it at her and she jerked back, cringing. He roared with laughter, then turned abruptly and sat silently on his throne for a spell, stroking the Staff as he stared at her.
“Captain Girom,” he called suddenly.
The captain stepped to his king's side at once.
“Take these stinking runks and shackle them in the dungeon. Put them in separate cells. Keep them gagged and in the dark, until I tell you.”
Captain Girom thumped his breast and stepped smartly from the dais, setting to his task at once.
Chapter 63
Yann-Ber arrived at Castle Niarg to find the gates closed for the night, as he actually expected them to be, but the disappointment was still difficult for him to bear. He even considered climbing the castle wall, though he thought better of it immediately due to his physical condition and due to the awkward position it would put him in to be caught. He was wondering what he was going to do with himself until morning when the guard atop the gate called down to him: “Hoy there! The gate's closed! We drop the portcullis at eleven, most nights! Come back in the morning! Good night, good sir!”
“Could you possibly make an exception?” hollered Yann-Ber. “I have pressing business
with Wizard Razzmorten and must set sail to return to my own country post-haste!”
“I'm right sorry, sir!” said the guard. “Your luck doesn't seem to be very good! Razzmorten has been at sea with his grandchildren for nearly a fortnight now! I've no idea when they're returning. If you come back tomorrow, I'm sure their majesties could tell you more!”
Yann-Ber turned away utterly crushed. Suddenly he turned round to face the gate. “Guard!” he cried. “Are you still within earshot? Could I bother you again?”
“What is it, good sir?” said the guard, returning to the embrasure overlooking the gate.
“Sir, I sense you to be right fair and kind. Therefore I wish to be completely honest with you! You see, I'm suffering from a horrible curse of boils put upon me by a mad sorceress, and unless I get help from Wizard Razzmorten, I'll be dead within a year!”
“That is indeed terrible, Sir!” said the guard. “You have my heart felt sympathy! I'm sorry that the best I can do is to tell you once more to come back in the morning and ask to see the king and queen!”
“I thank you sir, but I'm afraid that raises another problem! My condition is most loathsome to all who behold it. My sores are in a continual state of abscess and rupture. I can't keep the stinking pustules from fouling my clothes! How can I expect an audience with royalty with my person in such a revolting condition?”
“My word! I do see your point, sir! Perhaps I could speak with their majesties of your plight first thing in the morning, then meet with you here at some set time...”
“You'd go to all of that trouble for a complete stranger?” said Yann-Ber in disbelief.
“By all means! Here in Niarg being considerate and fair is a matter of honor! Would half-past eight, here, suit you?”
“Yes! And what is your name, should I need to ask?”
“I'm Captain Bernard.”
“Captain Bernard, you truly may have just saved my life!”
***
“That looks like snow,” said Rose, peering from under the flat of her hand, “That surely can't be snow. We may be headed into the fall of the year, but...”
“Limestone,” said Razzmorten, glancing up from baggage he had brought onto the deck to tie into bundles. “Snow white limestone. Runs quite a way down the coast and a good long ways inland, too. Like a big layer of cheese, full of holes. The Dragon Caves are part of it. Those are absolutely incredible caves. There may be a system of caverns running throughout that whole huge layer of limestone, league after league.”
“I sure don't see the port...”
“Hard to spot,” he said, standing up and coming slowly to the railing. “It's in a cove that goes 'way back in from the coast. In fact, the limestone bluffs nearly cut it off from the sea altogether. Two ships can't pass abreast, going in and out, when the tide's out. You can't pick out the opening from amongst the blinding white bluffs until you're right close. You have to sail along the coast.”
As they drew closer to land, Rose began to make out natural limestone towers and arches rising up out of the sea as tall as the cliffs of the shore. In places there seemed a veritable forest of white columns topped with the same coarse grass and scrubby trees as on the tops of the cliffs.
“Every single one of those trees is leaning inland as though it was blown that way by a hurricane,” said Rose.
“I don't think hurricanes do it. Prevailing winds might train the saplings, but I think hurricanes would leave them more helter-skelter,” said Razzmorten as he studied the shore. “It's right good that the sea is calm today, speaking of such things. If things were turbulent. we'd never get in. We'd just have to wait it out. That was always the drawback to this place.”
“What are you talking about?” said Rose.
“Well, drawback for them...”
“Who?”
“Oh, Razzorbauch and the sukre traders, back when this place was going strong. Easily protected, but a real bottleneck to shipping. You'll see. We should see it any time, now.” Razzmorten turned back to his packing in earnest.
Presently, the shore began drawing back from the coast line. The ship turned sharply inland, just as Rose saw a break in the bluffs. Close to land, the crew drew in the sails and cast anchor. There were shouts of “Ahoy!” and calling back and forth with someone ashore. Soon there were lines hitched to the ship, the anchor was weighed, and six huge dragons began towing it into the channel which opened into the lagoon ahead.
They shuffled along, next to the limestone walls, three single file on each side of the channel in paths just above the limp beds of kelp exposed by the tide. As the channel opened into the lagoon, the anchor was cast and the dragons unhitched. Then the sails were unfurled and the ship slid across the tiny waves of the lagoon for the dock.
“Dragonsport looks abandoned,” said Lukus, emerging from below with Mystique and Starfire by the reins to join Rose at the railing, “and I'm starting to feel better, too.”
“Actually, it mostly is,” said Razzmorten as he gave a final yank at Abracadabra's strap. “It's left over from the sukere days. The dragons have little need of the port...”
“I wondered, Lukus,” said Rose. “These waves are too small to make the ship lurch and heave. Sorry, Grandfather.”
“We'll be on the dock in a few minutes,” said Razzmorten, with a smile and wee shake of his head for Rose. “Let's have Lukus be the first down the plank. He's suffered the most.”
Lukus did not argue. Vowing never to sail on the ocean again also helped, though he knew he'd have to again to get home.
A small dragon stood on the dock, watching them disembark. When Razzmorten stepped onto the dock, he came forth. “I'm Gweltaz, as you might remember, though I expect not, for you have no reason to,” he said, shaking Razzmorten's hand and then motioning for everyone to follow him. “Spark and Lipperella sent me to meet you, since the hatching of their first clutch has them, shall we say, overwhelmed.”
“Well, that answers that one,” said Lukus with newly found vigor, as he got comfortable on his saddle and urged Starfire into step. “Right time consuming, feeding and pampering new dragons, aye?”
“You have no idea, I'm sure,” said Gweltaz, swinging his head 'round to face Lukus. “Fresh hatched, they never stop. First clutch is seldom over nine or so, very rarely, maybe even fifteen. Gives the parents some experience before a regular clutch comes along.”
“Here's a yellow headed one that never stops,” said Lukus, as Hubba Hubba winged to a halt on his head, while Pebbles lit on Razzmorten's shoulder.
“What is a 'regular' clutch, then?” said Rose.
“Oh thirty, tops, Your Highness, though the absolute biggest one I ever heard tell of had fifty-seven. But Spark and Lipperella have just hatched exactly twenty-four, a real whopper for number one.”
“My!” said Rose.
They followed Gweltaz along a lane which ran a short way between decaying and collapsing warehouses and barns before rising up a gentle white slope to the scrubby tree covered plain atop the bluffs.
“What do you call these strange leaning trees?” said Rose.
“Those? We call them, 'derwen pwysaf,'“ said Gweltaz. “'Leaning oaks' might be more modern. They're green all year.”
“Quercus recumbens, if you must,” said Razzmorten.
The lane meandered between the trees as it crossed the flat. A half dozen jays scolded and lunged at a large iridescent snake wound around a branch nearby as cicadas accompanied everything with a pulsing buzz. Suddenly, the lane turned to broad white stairs going down into a circular hole, ten rods across, that formed a skylight for an enormous cavern. The calls of the cicadas were replaced by languid echoes as they descended into the cool cavern air. The stairs ended at a huge stone pool, fed by water gushing from the limestone waves of a statuary of cowering dragons being driven to the sea by a terrible wizard holding forth his staff. Gweltaz and Razzmorten paused while
Rose and Lukus stared, speechless. Pebbles and Hubba Hubba each went sleek an
d studied the work in one eyed silence.
“It's stunning, Gweltaz,” said Rose.
“It commemorates the Great Removal, when Razzorbauch captured us, robbed us of flight, drove us from the Mammvro and brought us across the Orrin Ocean to be slaves on the Great Plantation,” said Gweltaz. “An Daouarn is the sculptor. He's fabulous, isn't he? He still lives with us.”
“Scary artwork,” said Hubba Hubba with a resolute shake of his feathers.
“Actually it is. And it should be,” said Gweltaz, as he stood back and held out his arm before walking on. “Well, I'm sure you're anxious to see Spark and Lipperella. Here comes Kast. He'll stable your mounts and be along with your baggage directly.”
Lukus accidentally whistled as he began to grasp the size of the cavern, yanking a sudden frown from Rose. The chamber with the fountain was easily a hundred feet from floor to ceiling, and at once he saw that Gothic arches had been carved in the vault of living rock. The spaces between the arches opened into scores of grottos, passages and tunnels. The grottos served as private residences for individual families. They entered a main passageway at the far end of the great cavern and followed it for some distance in awed silence as they walked by grotto after grotto occupied by dragons.
At last Gweltaz halted and ushered them into a spacious and well lit grotto, alive with the peeps and cheeps of two dozen ravenous dragonets straining forth to Lipperella and Spark as they frantically divvied out feed.
“The disadvantages of being unable to nurse...” said Lukus before jerking aside as Hubba Hubba bit him on the ear. “Hey!”
“Hey, yourself!” said Hubba Hubba. “This is a recent hatching. Have some respect.”
At once Razzmorten discreetly offered his wrist to Hubba Hubba, then turned grandly to address the dragons: “Congratulations, my friends. When did the young ones finally hatch?”
“It's been several days, hasn't it?” said Pebbles. “I see their flight feathers coming in.”
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 69
