“Certeynly not,” said Nacea. “No more than Ich wolde child-birthe forsake oones labour had bygunne.”
“And labour yester-even ystarted whyle arounde this verray bord we sat,” said Alvita with a nod at Lance, “so nis no oon heere aboute to resigne.”
“Then al is wel,” said Celeste. “Whan Abaddon hath ete we wol taken hym to the oke treen.”
“Celeste! Celeste!” cried Rodon, startling everyone as he burst in at a gallop, rumpling up a rug as he slid to a stop. “That dispitful child beth up ny the hote spring wanderynge! Ich tolde hym wit hadden beste come ete, but hee told me that hee wolde not to ete be yladde by a gyaunte ratte toord! Hee mente me! Then rokkis hee ythrowe and eke thretenyde to cut of min tail if Ich got ner hym! He evene ranne after me with a knyfe!”
“Where'd he get that?” said Lance. “He didn't have one on the way here.”
“Then hee hath in thy roume yben,” said Celeste. “That litel knyfe of thine yben in the bothem of thy lynen chist...”
“Under blanketis and quyltes,” said Nacea.
“It's time to take the boy in hand,” said Lance, rising smoothly. “Don't worry, Mother. I will be completely fair and diplomatic...”
“By ylevyng propre pynke honde prentis on hisen deynte buttokkes, Ich truste,” said Celeste. “That wolde kyndeste and moost lovynge unto hym ybe.”
“I will return directly, Mothers.”
***
Lance found Abaddon, sullenly kicking and flinging stones into the pool of the hot spring as steam snaked and writhed across its surface, the point of a knife sheath clearly showing below the tail of his doublet. “Somehow Abaddon fits right well here,” he thought.
“They've got breakfast waiting for you down in the big grotto, Abaddon,” he said, speaking out as he approached.
“So what?” he said, squatting to heave in a rock the size of his head. “Let it wait. I'm not going to eat with you and those scheming old hags.”
“Well. Worked up about what you think you heard from the shadows, aye?” said Lance, planting both feet. “You know, one seldom gets straight what he eavesdrops. “Sneaking and deceit may have been the rule under your mother's thumb, but it won't do here. Nor will listening in on adult talk after you're supposed to be in bed. You were sent there for your own good, in case you don't know it.”
“I don't have to listen to you or do anything you say. I'm Prince of Goll! And right soon my momma's goin' 'o figure out what you've done and come here for me. And then she'll make you and your ugly witch friends pay. And I'm goin' 'o watch and I'm goin' 'o laugh, and maybe even help her some, if she'll let me...”
“What? Like this?” said Lance, suddenly grabbing him by the shoulders and turning him over his knee. “Now first thing, give me the knife...!”
“What knife? I don't have a knife, stupid!”
“This knife, kiddo,” he said, grabbing the sheath with a yank.
“You idiot!” screamed Abaddon. “I don't have a knife!”
“So what do you call this thing I'm taking off you?”
“That's my knife Lance, you stinking thief!”
“Right. How come you didn't have it when we came here?”
“I did, too! I had it all along. You're just stupid. You're an idiot!”
“Listen you little fart,” said Lance between his teeth as he pulled the knife free of Abbadon's belt, “this dirk is mine! I've had it since I was your age. You sneaked it out of my linen trunk at the foot of my bed.”
Abaddon bucked and kicked, spitting in Lance's face as he tried to wrench free.
“Very well, then,” said Lance, pinning him down to begin spanking. “There! Twenty-one licks! That's how many years it takes to make a man. Let's see if you can get there. And while we're at it, whelp, threatening people is what happens to be stupid!”
“But Ratman isn't...”
“Oh, yes he is! So don't you dare! You never threaten, even if you were honorable and confronted with a dangerous scoundrel. Threats can get you killed...”
“My momma's...!”
“No she's not! she'll never find you here! And even if she did, there's no way she could get in without the Fairies allowing it, which they never will.”
“What Fairies?” said Abaddon, as though they'd merely been wrestling. “There's nothing here but those stinking hags and Ratman.”
“His name is Rodon, and you'd better be a-calling him that,” said Lance as he allowed Abaddon to sit up for his sudden change of tone. “Celeste, Alvita and Nacea are Fairies, and so is Rodon.”
“No way. Fairies are fair. They're all young and beautiful. I'm Prince, not some stupid child, like you probably were.”
“What Fairies have you seen?”
“Well, I...”
“None, right?”
“No. But I've heard...”
“I know you're not stupid, Abby. You're as smart as any young fellow I've ever seen. You're just spoilt with all your ugly spite and disrespect.”
“Yea? How am I supposed to respect people who don't respect me? Like right now. I'm Prince and you just called me 'Abby' instead of 'Your Highness.' Your hag Fairies even want me to call you 'Master!'“
“Remember what your father said...?”
“When?”
“When we left. He said for you to listen to me and to obey me until he could come for you.”
“You're stupid if you think my momma is goin' 'o let him out the castle,” he said with a renewed look of contempt. He ought to be in the dungeon right now, waiting for Momma and Grandma Demonica to....”
At once Lance had him over his knee again. “There's another twenty-one for you, Abby!” he said between his teeth. He stood him on his feet and looked him square in the eye. “You'll never say anything like that again, will you?”
“Any time I jolly well please!” he growled like a wild kitten with flattened ears. Lance gave him a shake by the shoulders. “Do you understand?”
“Yea!” he screeched as he kicked Lance in the knee and spat in his face. “A lot better'n you!”
“No you don't!” shouted Lance, yanking him back across his knee.
“Sorry!” he wailed, as Lance raised his hand. “Lance! I'm sorry!”
“Are you going to tell Rodon that?”
“All right, all right! I will! I promise!”
Lance stood him back up and studied his face as Abaddon looked away with a quivering chin.
Lance gave a huge sigh as he stood up, taking Abaddon by the hand and starting out for the big grotto.
“So...so if they're all Fairies, how come they're old?” said Abaddon, jogging here and there to keep up. “And how could Rodon be a Fairy?”
“Ever hear of the evil sorcerer, called Razzorbauch?”
“Maybe. I'm not sure...”
“Well he was pretty terrible, and he did it to them out of spite. He made Celeste, Alvita and Nacea old and turned Rodon into a rat. Then, he made them prisoners here forever.”
“Why didn't he just kill them?”
“Well, he wanted something worst than death for them.”
“Kind of like making death as slow as you can because somebody really deserves it?”
“I suppose, if you're that kind of executioner, but I think you have the idea.”
“Well, why did Razzmorten...?”
“Razzorbauch.”
“I thought Momma said Razzmorten was... Razzorbauch, then. Why did Razzorbauch make Rodon a rat instead of making him old like Celeste, Alvita and
Nacea?”
Rodon was a traitor. He told Razzorbauch where his sisters were hiding in exchange for his own freedom. Razzorbauch gladly turned him loose, but once he'd captured the sisters, Razzorbauch turned him into a rat, saying that anyone who was rat enough to betray his own flesh and blood ought to look like it, and he could either live out his life as a servant to his sisters or he could die. As you see, he chose to be a servant with a tail.”
“What did the old Fairies do to him in
the first place?” said Abaddon, by now completely enthralled in spite of himself. “Why did he hate them?”
“Nothing, actually. He just wanted their woods. They were keepers of the great Forest Primeval, and he wanted to turn it into the Chokewood Forest for himself. So, he had to either kill them or put them here in order to do it...
“Anyway, we'd best hurry. They're waiting with breakfast. After you eat they'll take you to the grove...”
“Yea, to meet some stupid tree. What's the point of that?”
“That, my young fellow, you'll find out in due time,” he said as he ushered him around the corner and straight to his seat at the board.
Chapter 107
Queen Minuet stared away into the distant reaches of nowhere, down the great table amongst her advisors as she ran her fingers through her hair. She let go of her daydream with a jerk that startled Hubba Hubba so wide-eyed and lean that he nearly took flight from the perch beside her chair. She gave him an apologetic smile and studied the faces of those seated before her.
“I have attempted time and again to scry Castle Goll and have failed utterly each time,” she said as she massaged the bridge of her nose. “Demonica and Spitemorta have undoubtedly set up extensive wards all around the castle proper, just as we have done...”
“Wards, you say?” said Captain Bernard.
“It's an old term Captain,” said Razzmorten, “one that has ceased to be used during these past years when Minuet has abstained from exercising divinations, and it was falling into disuse well before her time. It means a magically laid protection, in this case a protection against scrying from the outside.” He smiled and nodded for Minuet to continue.
“In spite of these wards, if I may continue using the term, I have managed to learn a small amount about what is happening outside the castle walls and throughout countryside of Goll. It appears that exactly as we have surmised, the Gollian military was indeed devastated by their effort to destroy Niarg. I seldom saw a man between the ages of eighteen and sixty. Youths, grandfathers and women are out doing the jobs customarily done by men in their prime. I'd guess that their commerce is even faltering because of it. I've seen no one soldiering nor guarding other than gaffers and gangling teenagers.”
“Then we should strike while the iron's hot,” said Captain Bernard with fiery blue eyes, as he leant forth to smack his hand on the table.
“My exact and most emphatic sentiments my good Captain,” said Minuet, “but there are the Great Staff and the Heart to keep in mind. With such devices at Spitemorta's disposal, she and Demonica could destroy us without an army if we press them into it. Were we to avenge ourselves, we'd almost certainly give them the very excuse they need to finish us off and claim our lands for themselves. In fact, the only things I can think of which would keep them from doing so this minute would be considerations of how they might appear to their own populace, particularly since Demonica has for years specialized in wielding great power from the shadows. They may even be hoping that we strike so that they would appear justified to their countrymen and potential allies for using the Heart and the Staff.
Bernard sat back in his chair with a sigh. “What then are we to do?” he said. “I understand your point, but it allows them to wipe out Ash Fork unprovoked and to murder our beloved king while we merely sit by and wait.”
“What are we to do indeed, Captain?” she said as she stood up to pace about. “Your Majesty,” said Bernard, “if we are ever to halt this evil, we are doomed either to capture or to destroy the Heart and the Staff. What better time could there be than this very moment...?”
“Perhaps Captain, but we remind you that those devices can be employed full force in the blink of an eye. Even with their army gone and with the Dark Continent possibly coming to our aid, we'd never surprise them fast enough to be preemptive if we attempt a move with no more than what we have to go on now. Meanwhile, waiting around for the witches to mount another strike against Niarg was not King Hebraun's way and it does indeed seem the perfect recipe for a fatal blunder. That's the very reason we have you all gathered here today. We'll consider any suggestions that you may have short of a blind retaliatory strike or doing nothing at all.”
“Your Majesty, may I offer something?” said Herio, speaking up from where he had been standing at her elbow.
Minuet turned with a surprised look, but nodded her permission.
Herio bowed and stepped forward. “I wish to volunteer my services as an agent for the crown,” he said with a nod. “If most of the men of fighting age were lost at the battle of Ash Fork, then my youth makes me a perfect choice, and particularly since, as you are well aware, I am teased from time to time for sounding like a southerner. All of us from Ashmore and Ashfork sound like Gollians. I'd not appear out of place anywhere in Goll. I might even manage to get inside Castle Goll itself, particularly since I've been here for nearly a month. If I'm lucky, I could hire on in the castle as a servant or as a guard or a soldier.”
“This is a right brave and honorable offer, Herio,” said Minuet, “but it's out of the question. It would be far too dangerous. I think you've already taken risks enough in your young lifetime.”
“Perhaps my Queen,” he said, glancing first at Razzmorten then at Bernard as his face fell, “but precisely because of all that, and for you my Queen and for Niarg I beg leave to do something more. Don't you see that I'm the best choice for such an endeavor?”
Minuet shook her head, but stopped as Razzmorten took up her hand.
“Herio has a point, Minuet,” he said gently. “He would indeed be able to blend in perfectly without suspicion in Goll. You've all but said yourself that lack of information is the one thing that has us paralyzed. How can we decide on any realistic course of action if we don't learn what our enemy's plans are likely to be? If we even pretend to take them by surprise, we'll have to be right well informed indeed.”
“Truth to tell, I have another reason,” said Minuet, dropping her gaze to the floor before slowly taking her seat again, raising her chin and going on. “Herio is my beloved husband's final gift to me, and I couldn't bear for anything to happen to him.”
“My Queen,” said Herio. “I believe he set me in your service to be your protector. This I swear to do as long as I live. Queen Spitemorta wants you dead. What better way have I of protecting you? And every night before I close my eyes, I am tormented with the sight of my brother being hanged. Perhaps this way, I might also feel as though I have avenged his unforgivable murder.”
“Yea!” squawked Hubba Hubba as he fluttered to the edge of the table and waddled around to address Minuet from the front. “And I'll go with him. I can fly back and forth carrying messages.”
“Oh you most certainly will not!” said Minuet at once. “You with your bright green and yellow feathers. Why, you'd be a perfect target. You'd not last a day. Besides, Spitemorta knows I have parrots. She might even remember you in particular.”
Hubba Hubba fanned out his tail and dropped his beak to the table top to strut back and forth pushing it before him like a plough. He stopped abruptly and turned to face her with a thorough shake of his feathers. “Well! I'll admit that once you've seen me I am hard to forget, but fear not. The Wiz here can just change me back into a crow for the assignment. There are crows all over. I'll blend in just fine. And if I'm there to see to things, so will Herio.”
“Oh really?” said Minuet. “And what about all your responsibilities here?”
“Well, the chicks have all fledged, don't you know. Razzmorten could help Pebbles with them until I got back.”
“And what will Pebbles think about your little plan to get yourself killed and leave her with nine hungry mouths to feed?”
“Oh go on, Queen! I'm not goin' 'o get myself killed. And I'm sure Pebbles will agree with me that Herio needs someone who's seen a thing or two to keep an eye on him.” He stopped short to have a quick check under one wing and to run his beak down a flight feather which he let go with a snap. He ga
ve all his feathers a resolute shake. “Now look 'ee here. Pebbles loves Niarg, but she sure wouldn't want to be here with Spitemorta and Demonica running the show.” And with that he resumed running his beak back and forth across the table top.
Minuet looked at Razzmorten as he raised his eyebrows and nodded. “It seems that unless someone has a better suggestion, Hubba Hubba and Herio will be our agents to Goll, then,” she said as she glanced 'round and saw that it had been decided. “So be it.” She took in both bird and boy with a sweeping glance. “Then prepare to leave for Goll at first light in the morning.”
“Thank you my Queen,” said Herio, bowing deeply. “I will not let you down.”
“I just want you to come back safe and sound,” said Minuet, knowing full well that he already felt like a second son to her.
“Don't worry,” he said, “there's no other place I'd come home to.”
“And you too, Hubba Hubba,” she said, turning to her beloved bird.
“Hey thanks, Queen! At your service!” he said, offering his ruffled head for a scratch. “You ones made the right choice. With the right bird in charge, this mission's a piece o' currant pie. Don't forget I'm a veteran o' witches, I am. Well Ugleeuh, at least.”
“Oh, Hubba Hubba,” she said as she scratched him. “You just got back to being your old self and now you're flying off as a crow to be a spy. Are you sure you want to go through all of that?”
“Yea, all things considered. 'Tain't permanent. The Wiz'll change me back when I'm done. And black feathers are right dignified, don't ye know?”
Minuet gaped at him.
“Well, they ain't nothin' like green and yellow, but if ye can't be smashing, ye might as well be stately.”
Razzmorten threw back his head with a laugh and rubbed his eyes.
“So, how about it, Wiz? Will you turn me back into a crow? Temporary of course, if ye know what I mean.”
“Certainly,” said Razzmorten with a nod, “if you're absolutely sure. But I'd feel better about this if you spent your last evening with your family as a parrot. Then, I'll be happy to change you first thing in the morning.”
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 118
