“You figured it out pretty quick, seems to me,” said Mary.
“Whew!” said Spark, running his hand over his head. “For a shortcut to the Jutwoods, this sounds like a lot of complications, dear brother.”
“Well let me add mine, if you don't mind,” said Mary with an ironic chuckle.
“By all means,” said Spark. “We need all the help we can get.”
“Well...” she said, with a careful step between a couple of thistles she had not seen, “I think Edward would be in serious danger just now if he ends up in the care of King Theran. I'm not saying he's dangerous. He might not be, but who knows? However, with Spitemorta and Demonica running around with both the Staff and the Heart, Edward should not be out in the open. Myrtlebell made it quite plain to me that Spitemorta was determined to see him dead, as if his mere existence somehow threatened her husband's claim to the throne of Loxmere, which of course, it does not. Now, think about Myrtlebell fleeing to the Chokewoods, rather than seeking asylum in Bratin Brute with her father. If she chose the Chokewoods, I'd say that made Bratin Brute clearly unsafe. So I don't know what that says about King Theran, but at least Myrtlebell didn't think much of the haven he would have provided her. Therefore, if we're going to see to Edward's safety, we must assume that Bratin Brute is altogether dangerous for him.” With this, they found themselves standing, looking at each other.
“Well, that all makes sense to me,” said Spark. “I see no other choice but to keep Edward's relationship to Theran a secret. I say that we merely allow anyone who sees us to assume that he's your son or nephew, Mary. When we get to Niarg we can tell Rose and Fuzz and let them decide what they want to do about it, though I expect they'll agree with what we've done. As long as Spitemorta and Demonica are on the rampage, Edward's in danger. And,” he sighed, “so is Laora, since they've bonded.”
Mary and Tors had just agreed with this when they began to make out a wall and gates through the trees in the distance.
“Well that's Bratin Brute,” said Spark, as he studied the sight from under the flat of his hand. “But I was under the impression that they always had their gates open.”
“This bodes ill,” said Ceidwad, as Lladwr nodded in solemn agreement.
“Undoubtedly,” said Spark, “but what do you suppose it means?”
“It ssimply meanss they're afraid of ssomebody,” said Shot 'n' Stop from atop Tors's bag.
“It could mean a number of things,” said Mary. “There's nothing for it but to go on and find out, unless you all would like to go back and try to cross Goll instead.”
“It's a good league yet,” said Spark, “and another league's just that much closer to where we're going, so let's go.”
“Edward and I could fly ahead and ask,” said Laora, as she bounced to catch up.
“You'll walk right along with the rest of us,” said Spark with a look of alarm. “And it's jolly good you asked this time, instead of flying off the way you did when we met Spike and Ownlee! You've no idea what kind of trouble you'd find yourselves in, up there.”
The entire procession fell silent as they resumed making their way to the gate. All that could be heard for some time was the scuffling of feet and the creak and jingle of packs and baggage. Just ahead, a parliament of crows rose in a flurry of caws from the crown of a naked oak and made for distant places.
“Boy, they sure don't have much traffic into Cyclopsia,” said Tors.
“How do you know?” said Kast.
“Well, we're close enough to the gate that I'm starting to see people up on the wall, and yet this road we're on, if you want to call it that, is nothin' beyond three little ol' paths, almost too narrow to walk in, for one thing. And then, we've not met a soul.”
“Aren't very many people want to go through the Valley of Illusions, and that just leaves the produce going into Bratin Brute from a handful of Cyclops farms.”
“So what are they afraid of, wagon loads o' 'taters?”
“Yea. That would be nice. 'Course you never know about 'taters from foreign places.”
“Why would that matter?”
“Well, everyone of 'em's got eyes.”
Now they could clearly see that the people on the massive stone wall were guards, slowly ambling along the embrasures of the parapets.
“It looks like they've been adding to the wall,” said Spark. “You've been through here, Mary. Have they?”
“I'd say they have. I'd also say that they've spotted us,” she said, nodding at the guards who were each coming to a halt in front of an embrasure.
After going on for less than a furlong, they halted a respectful and cautious distance from the gate and gazed up at the guards on the wall. “Why, they're all fitted out in armor to shame a lobster,” said Kast.
“And I guess you see that each one of 'em has a crossbow aimed at us!” said Tors, as Spark glanced about nervously, taking a quick account of everyone with him.
“State your name and your business!” bellowed a guard over the top of his leveled crossbow.
Mary stepped forward. “Stay put!” she whispered sharply to Spark. “I am Mary the White!” she hollered. She gave a curtsey before continuing: “We are but poor and weary travelers, entertainers my good sir, on our way to the Jut of Niarg at the invitation of King Neron, himself.”
“Really?” cried the guard as he removed the bolt from his crossbow and set it down. “And just what would the Elven king be wanting with such a group of oddities?” He threw back his bristly jowls with a hearty guffaw as he flung a riotous look over first one shoulder then the other.
Mary curtsied again pretending she had not noticed the man's rudeness. “Odd we be, sir, but that's quite by design. Curiosity is entertainment! You see, this is my troupe. We present ourselves to the public as Mary's Menagerie. People travel far and wide for the chance to see us. We have performed before countless crowned heads. And, we have been sought out and invited by King Neron himself to entertain and to amaze his host at Oilean Gairdin.”
“Well my dear,” said the guard as he leant out the embrasure, “We require verification. And besides, my men are owed a bit of entertainment from time to time in return for their civic sacrifice.”
“Our eloquent guard wants to see some sort of stunts or jugglery,” said Mary in hushed tones as she rolled her eyes with a grimace of urgency.
At once Laora and Edward rushed forth and bowed together. Edward had leadbeater cockatoos perched all over his shoulders with Stripes the peppermint walking stick clinging to his head. Laora had Shot 'n' Stop coiled around her neck and three talking raccoons on her back. At a nod and a wave from the guard, some of the soldiers came down from the wall with him.
“Ladies and gentlemen! I am Stripes, the Amazing, Insectile Master Fool!” cried Stripes in his piercing tinny voice, the moment he saw them gathered 'round. “Have any of you heard the one about the beetle and the rat? Ah! I see by your blank looks that you have not! Good! You see there was once an old beetle with two missing legs. One day he decided...”
Suddenly, a leadbeater dropped to the ground with a feathery plop.
Stripes thrust his first pair of legs upon his hips and glared furiously at the leadbeater, who was rolling about with hysterical laughter. “Cedwick!” he screeched. “You idiot! That's not the punchline! Be silent!”
Cedwick clapped shut his beak and stood up with a sheepish shake of his feathers and went to stand by Laora.
Stripes cast a look of long-suffering to the sky and once again began telling his joke. He got no further than before, when another leadbeater collapsed with laughter and hit the ground with a plop. “You're supposed to do that at the punch line, you idiot!” he shrieked as he hysterically jumped up and down. He dropped to the ground screaming unintelligibly as he ran at the leadbeaters, heaving pebbles.
The soldiers were quite won over and laughed and slapped their knees. “Well now,” said the guard. “That's a funny little skit. If the rest of you ones do as well, I expect King
Neron will enjoy your performance. So now, my men will escort you to the palace and you may beg King Theran's leave to travel through our land.”
“Escort?” said everyone in wide-eyed murmurs, as the gates were opened to allow their passage. Once inside they waited while twelve mounted soldiers arrived to see them on their way.
They set off, speaking to one another only in hushed tones as they plodded along through rolling meadows and scattered woods. After marching well into the afternoon, they came to another stone wall and gate. This one had a broad moat in front of it, making it necessary to cross a drawbridge before going through. On the other side was a crowded village, with hogs, children and chickens scampering through the slop heaved from the open windows. The villagers dropped what they were doing to stare at them in astonishment as they passed.
Suddenly, there was yet another moat and towering stone wall. Here they had to wait for the drawbridge to be lowered and the portcullis to be raised before they could pass through to the inner courtyard. As they filed through, gawking at the towering castle proper, a boss-eyed old woman with a bald head passed by, cackling at the sight of them.
Laora squinted and stuck out her tongue. A gaggle of children scampered by and stopped cold to stare wide eyed. When she grinned and winked at them, they stumbled over each other in a mad scramble to flee. She gave Edward a smug nod in their wake as he grinned and rolled his eyes.
They did indeed make a sight, escorted by the soldiers: Mary with her strangely beautiful purply auburn hair, leading Laora and Edward, still covered with leadbeaters and 'coons, flurries of plump yellow and plaid butterflies (in winter, no less!), peppermint striped walking sticks, a family of epicurean anteaters and scores of strangely enchanted creatures, including talking wood rabbits and skunks with pink stripes, a palsied cow with brown, red, blue and yellow teats and of course Spark, Kast and Tors with Shot 'n' Stop hanging out of his bag, followed by Ceidwad, Lladdwr and Arwr, looking dignified and fierce, the likes of which no one on the castle grounds had ever even heard of in the tallest of tall tales.
At last they were shown into the castle proper by a half dozen dour faced men of the Royal Guard and taken directly to the throne room where King Theran sat upon a jeweled and velvet upholstered chair, drumming his fingers. They knelt before him in hushed rows down the brilliant red carpet runner which mounted the dais and ran to the foot of his throne. Laora giggled. Edward shushed her and patted her silky feathers. He studied each one of them with careful but resigned interest. His face was haggard and drawn as though his days had been taken up with suffering. Indeed he bore the face of defeat.
“Did Myrtlebell ever tell Edward of his grandfather?” thought Mary as she searched Spark's anxious face from the side, while fighting down the churning butterflies in her stomach. “We certainly never managed to pull aside Edward before we ended up here in front of Theran.” She glanced back at Edward. “Oh merciful fates!” she thought as her heart began pounding at the sight of the rapt look on his face as he watched the King, “He knows! And what will his grandfather do with a party who comes before him under false pretenses, trying to keep his only living relative and heir to the throne hidden from him?”
Laora nudged Edward. “What?” he whispered.
“Be careful,” she hissed. “Remember what you told me.”
Edward scowled as he nodded.
“I take it you are the head of this exhibit?” said the king as his gaze fell upon Mary.
“Yes, your Majesty,” she said with a nod and a clear voice in spite of her fear. “We are Mary's Menagerie. Our enterprise is amusing others. Some of us perform, others of us are for marveling at, as you might say. As I told your guards, we only wish to pass through your borders on our way to the Jut of Niarg where we've been engaged by King Neron. We have no political inclinations, whatsoever. We bear scant arms, as you can see sire, and we mean no harm to anyone. I can see that in these troubled times, all strangers pose a threat until proven harmless. I do pray you deem us harmless indeed.”
“There are rumors about, implicating dragons and Elves in heinous misdeeds. Are you aware of these?” said Theran, looking askance at Tors, Kast and Spark.
“I am sire, though I've not been able to take them seriously. I'm also aware that at least until quite recently, Bratin Brute was Niarg's ally, and thus an ally to Elves and dragons, also. Has that changed, then?”
King Theran deflated some, appearing even more haggard. “No, it has not,” he said. “though, I don't doubt that the alliance will see us in our graves before all is said and done.”
Mary raised her eyes at this and glanced at Spark.
“You have my permission to pass through to the Jutwoods,” said Theran wearily.
“Be gone with ye before I change my mind.”
There was no thanking him, for the guards were already firmly ushering everyone out into the courtyard where they were given gruff orders to be gone before sunset.
“We will comply sir, do rest assured,” said Spark as the last guard turned to leave. “Please express our gratitude to your king.” His stomach rumbled. “Let's see if there's a way for us to have a sup or a bite to eat on the way out,” he said, looking about at his companions.
“Hawkers and peddlers,” said Mary. “I remember seeing them with meat pies and loaves of bread just inside the outer curtain. With it neigh supper time, I'll bet we'll find some.”
“Let's go,” said Spark, drooling at the aromas beginning to waft from windows.
Soon they were on their way with drumsticks and fists full of meat pies, following the road north, heading for the Jutwoods and hopefully, a sanctuary at last for the enchanted creatures of the lost Peppermint.
Chapter 99
“So, the king and queen refused my gift?” said James.
Lance nodded as he adjusted himself in his chair. “However, I'm right certain they were completely sincere about their reason,” he said. “If you think about it, I'd allow you'll see why they'd think that.”
“Yes of course,” said James as he rubbed his tired eyes. “I'm sure they're absolutely right. I should've been thinking. She undoubtedly can see through her globe as well as put visions into it from afar. I just hope I've not put Niarg in any more danger than it's already in. It seems that I just keep making rotten decisions these days, Lance. Sometimes, it seems as if that's all I've done since the fiasco with Rose. Had I married her, I wouldn't have spent all my days paralyzed with the bad luck I've had since marrying Spitemorta.” He stood up and stretched his neck before going to the window to stare out at the skinweler, back once again where Spitemorta had it, on its pedestal in the inner courtyard. “I wish like fire there was something I could do to stop the evil that she and Demonia are brewing up.”
Lance whistled. “What could you possibly do, James?” he said, propping his elbows on his knees. They're both sorceresses, and Demonica in particular is frightening, even if she has been Abaddon's nanny. She has enormous power and influence on the Dark Continent. You don't stand a chance if you try to oppose them. They'll arrange some kind of horrible death for you if you do. And what about your children? Do you want to leave Spitemorta before the new baby comes? Things might change some by that time.”
“Oh yea, who knows?” said James, as he parted the curtains again to stare glumly at the skinweler in the courtyard. “Did you see her latest presentation? She actually showed the Elves plotting with the dragons and Niarg to take over Loxmere-Goll. The Elves, Lance! The most peaceful beings on the continent. And what's worse is that people are swallowing her lies whole, simply because they've seen it on that...that device, down there.” He turned away from the window with a sigh. “It's more tempting than you might imagine to take Abaddon and vanish before she gets back.”
“Oh, I do well imagine. So if you do decide to do that, I'm with you. You know that.”
“Yes, and I'm grateful. Your friendship and loyalty have sustained me more often than you know. And you're right. The new baby. What ch
ance would it have with only Spitemorta to raise it?”
Lance made no reply, following James with his eyes.
“None,” said James. “Absolutely none.”
***
That evening, James tiptoed into Abaddon's nursery and put a light kiss upon his forehead. Abaddon stirred under his blanket but neither opened his eyes nor changed his breathing. James smiled, assured that he was safe and at peace, in spite of his mother's long absence. He turned and tiptoed back out, gently drawing closed the door.
Abbadon's eyes flew open the moment the door shut. He clambered from his bed and went to the window where he peeped out at the skinweler in the courtyard. “Momma's goin' 'o be very mad at you Daddy, when I tell her what you've been doing while she's been gone,” he said with an eerie red glow in his eyes in the moonlight. “Oh yes. She's goin' 'o be real mad.”
***
“Edward,” said Mary, as she fell into step beside Laora and him. “You can't imagine how relieved Spark and I are that you didn't reveal who you were to King
Theran. We think it would have been very dangerous for both you and Laora, but whatever kept you quiet about it?”
Edward turned a startlingly solemn look her way. “Momma told me a long time ago, that when she was expecting me and had to run away from Loxmere to be safe, that she asked King Theran to let her stay in Bratin Brute,” he said, shaking his head. “He said no. He told her that she'd made her bed and had to lie in it. I think that's mean talk for, 'you deserve what you get, since you caused it.' Anyway, Momma said that someday she hoped she could take me to meet him, but she didn't know if it would ever be safe enough for her to do it. And then she said he wasn't very strong and couldn't protect us from anything.”
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 108
