“A leitheid de chac,” said Soraya as she pulled Ariel away from her breast. “I can see that you are. What is it?”
“Great-grandfather sent me,” said Danneth. “You're to make immediate preparations. The diatrymas were just here, outside the great door. They came in from this side of the Saddle, up in the Jutland Mountains, where they saw a host of trolls heading right this way. He wants you to flee down the Magic River.”
“Now?” said Lukus.
“Well he wants to see you two first, but yes, he wants you to hurry.”
At once they were on their feet following Danneth to the great hall at the other end of the palace, where they found King Neron with the captains of his army seated 'round the table, examining a map.
“Good! Here you are!” boomed Neron, as he rose from his chair with far more fire than Lukus had ever seen him have. “Ceidwad and Lladdwr, whom I can't imagine your not remembering, have just brought tidings of possibly above five hundred Marfora Siofra within two league of here, traveling straight for us. The queer thing about it is that they've sows and kids with them. The brutes always foraged and went on raids by themselves, back in Lobhadh. I'd wager that this is a settling party, and perhaps it is, but Sean and Iason told of sows and kids being along with the brutes at Fen. So we can't tell for sure what they're up to, but what ever it is, they might well be doing it on our doorstep in an hour, and it's already getting dark...”
“Great-grandfather,” said Soraya as she glanced at Lukus, “we would much prefer to stay and fight for Oilean Gairdin.”
“I know how you must feel,” he said with pride, but the twins are the very hope of the future. They simply must survive. Should they perish, we would be surrendered unto blackest evil in spite of anything we might possibly do.”
“So you think the trolls are on their way because of Demonica and Spitemorta?” said Soraya as she gently bounced Daniel.
“Demonica and Spitemorta certainly brought them here to Deatalamh, but whether they've sent them to our doorstep this very evening, we have no way of knowing. Even if they know nothing of this, any risk to the twins simply threatens the future altogether.”
“Then we shall do your bidding, Great-grandfather,” she said with a wide-eyed swallow. “We're on our way, then.”
Relief swept over Neron as he took Lukus and Soraya into each arm and gave them one sound heartfelt hug. “Time flies,” he said, turning abruptly away to his captains.
Lukus took up Soraya's hand, and with a twin apiece they hurried out of the hall.
“It shouldn't be that hard to pack on such short notice when we've not yet finished our unpacking,” said Soraya between breaths over their echoing footfalls.
“We can't take even that much in that dinky dinghy on the Magic River...” said Lukus, hefting Ariel into a better position in his arm.
“That's right,” said Danneth, showing up noiselessly on their heels. “You're going to have several families along for the ride...and me.”
“What?” said Lukus, planting his feet as Danneth and Soraya spun 'round to come back. “You're kidding! That would take forever...”
“You didn't think I'd see you off on this adventure into Dúiche Fhiáin without me to help look after my only niece and nephew, did you?”
“By Dúiche Fhiáin, do you mean the Wilderlands?”
“What else?”
“My word!” said Lukus, clapping his hand to his forehead. “It will indeed be an adventure. Of course we're delighted to have you along, but with that tiny boat and time running out and all those families you were talking about...”
“Oh. You had me there for a minute. You said 'tiny,' and when I came up behind you, 'dinky.' That's what threw me. For just you and Rose it was indeed dinky. Lukus, that boat is any size you need it to be, just like the river goes any place you...”
“Very well, but why did it need to take three trips in order to haul us and each unicorn?”
“Because Arrachtach was there. You killed him. Didn't we tell you that?”
“We're running out of time, here,” said Lukus taking a step forth which got everyone underway again. “We haven't even gathered up our things. How are we to manage waiting on boatloads of unicorns, or don't we get to take any?”
“Well, Strom and Jarund were busy launching unicorns when I came to fetch you. There should be mounts when we arrive.”
“When you say arrive, do you mean that the Magic River will take us all the way under the Pitmaster's Basin to the Wilderlands?”
“That's where we're headed, but the Magic River can only deliver us to bodies of water. The river is taking us to the far side of Gold Lake, the largest of the Pitmaster's kettles, so we'll really be needing the unicorns to see us across the Great Barrier Mountains. Sulacha...remember him?”
“No, actually.”
“Sulacha's from here,” said Danneth in full stride, as he glanced first at Lucas's bundle and then at Soraya's. “He was a mercenary in your father's service. He found his way over the Great Barrier Mountains and back, maybe five or six hundred years ago. He thinks he can get us across.
“Say!” he said with an abrupt halt. “Give me the young ones. we'll meet you down by the dinky boat, and I shan't wake them.”
“Nár b'fhearr duit, deartháir!” said Soraya with a slit-eyed squint, as she and Lukus put a bundle into each of his arms and sped away.
***
Herio stepped outside and paused to peep into his handkerchief before sitting on the bench in the growing shadows in front of Chirp, Tweet, Squeak and Hubba Hubba, who was still busily sorting through his feathers after his bath. “Here you go fellows,” he said cheerfully, as he laid back the ears of his bundle and doled out pinches of roast to each bird. “And Hubba, you were right. This tavern has the best food I ever tasted, and after Mom, that's a-sayin' something.”
“Well that's what Rose and Lukus said,” he said with a gulp. “I never got to find out until this that you just now brought out. Yea, yea, yea. First rate victuals, even if the boys here do look like they're a-swallowing worms. Pebbles and I got the boot, just like we did this evening, but the difference was that Spitemorta had gotten them all roiled up over Elves, so while we went to sleep in the coach, Lukus and Soraya's brothers and
Neron had to cut off a few heads to get out. Nobody got to eat.”
“Well,” said Herio with a grunt as he found his stirrup and threw his leg over Gwynt, “the old man spent the time I was in there, ignoring me and grumbling along with a broom, and it was an old fat lady that waited on me. She waited on me quick enough, and brought me plenty, but she spent the whole time hollering across the room, scolding the old man for this and that. Man! She was the fattest thing I ever saw: rolls upon rolls o' fat. And she stank to high heaven. I swear something got in between her flaps o' fat and rotted. No wonder they cook so good.”
“I'm lost,” said Hubba Hubba as he flew up to Herio's shoulder, “I don't see the connection. I mean, my tastes do change with the feathers, but this is one crow who doesn't go in for carrion.”
“Well anyone who smells like her and has the temperament of either one of 'em would have to cook right well to keep bringing people in through the doors.”
Soon they were sauntering out of Sweetpea into the early evening, Gwynt stepping along steadily under the weight of two sacks of fresh supplies tied across the panniers.
“So, said Hubba Hubba from Herio's shoulder, as he pointed himself down the road, “are we going 'round the feet of the Ash Mountains until we reach Ashmore?”
“Not quite. If the old gaffer back at the mill started us out right, we're taking the North Fork of the Loxmere River across the first ridge of the Ash Mountains to reach Cwm Eryr, to get on the road Sergeant Dunvil drug me along. I've just got to. I can't really explain it.”
“We'll still go through some hilly country, won't we?”
“Yea...but not for a day or two.”
“Do you want the boys and me to fly ahead and see if we
can find a good place to camp for the night?”
“Sounds good. Back out of sight of the road would be best.”
“We're off!” cawed Hubba Hubba as he and Chirp, Tweet and Squeak took flight.
Herio sank back against the cantle with a sigh as he watched them disappear over the tops of the trees. “Going home to Ash Fork is the awfullest thing I've ever gone through,” he whispered, “next to watching Cefnogi Rhywun hang.”
Chapter 115
Fnadi-phnig-nyd threw down his club and clambered up onto a huge rock. “Dyrney nyr-vyr-nirrtrad!” he roared as he pounded his chest with both fists. “Dyrney halt!” He drummed his chest again as the sound of his voice echoed away through the naked trees. Again he furiously pounded his chest, slinging spittle and a look of bug-eyed rage from his bushy blond face.
The tramping and rustling shuffle in the leaves throughout the woods 'round about fell dead silent. Once more he pummeled his chest with his fists. “Dyr-jinyr-yy!” he bellowed.
Dyr-jinyr-yy, an old sinewy man wearing the head of a bear and draped with ropes upon ropes of red beads and assorted talismen, the right half of his body painted red ochre and the left half painted black, hopped forth through the brown leaves to plant his staff at the foot of the rock where he stood, springing up and down chanting: “Ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo...”
“Ay-ooo!” howled Fanadi-phnig-nyd from atop his rock as he leaped up and down once, planting his feet and drumming his chest again. “Vyf-japf! he cried.
Vyf-japf came forth hopping with his spear, bedecked in ropes of beads, painted with red and black handprints all over his torso, and stood springing up and down beside Dyr-jinyr-yy, as he took up the chanting.
“Ni-oowfn!” bellowed Fnadi-phnig-nyd with another spring and a pummeling of his chest.
Ni-oowfn joined in in the same manner, bounding and chanting: “Ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo...”
“Ganf!” cried Fnadi-phnig-nyd in the same manner as before and then, “Snuph!”
Ganf and Snuph dutifully hopped into place and also took up the chanting.
“Ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo,” cried Fnadi-phnig-nyd before suddenly changing to: “Ooot-ooot, ooot-ooot, ooot-ooot...” as he sprang from the rock and landed amongst his captains to join their rhythmic jumping and chanting: “Ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo...”
Suddenly they all froze as Fnadi-phnig-nyd pummeled his chest once more. “Every Elf many-huts we pass since our feast by the sea is empty!” he rumbled as he passed 'round a beetle-browed glare to each of them.
“Ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo...” chorused the captains in a low murmur, growing loud as they began leaping in time. Suddenly they stopped short.
“Some Elf escaped our feast and went squeaking!” said Vyf-japf trading furtive looks with the others.
“Ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo...” chorused the captains before stopping short.
Fnadi-phnig-nyd beat his chest. “Escaped!” he cried as he glared from captain to captain. “What stupid fnadirr-fanf loses food for Dyrney?”
“Ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo...” chorused the captains.
“Was it sows or kids?” said Vyf-japf.
“Aoofn!” cried Fnadi-phnig-nyd. “Sows or kids!”
“Aoofn! Ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo,” chorused the captains as they leaped. “Aoofn! Ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo...”
Fnadi-phnig-nyd thumped his chest. “No sows at kill!” he roared. “No kids at kill!”
“No sows! No kids! Ay-ooo, ay-ooo...” chorused the captains. Soon the chanting hushed to be replaced by the captains rhythmically pounding the butts of their spears on the ground in conclusion. At the sight of Dyr-jinyr-yy raising his arms, they fell silent.
Dyr-jinyr-yy started a choppy rattle with two small terrapin shells, shicka-shick, shicka-shick, shicka-shick, shicka-shick, shicka-shick... as he began a dignified shuffle into their midst. He stopped and raised both arms again. “Is this truly Gnyr-jan ntu Afa-joy?” he said in a dry singsong. “Is this truly the land of Plenty to Eat?” He rattled his shells again, shicka-shick, shicka-shick, shicka-shick... as he shuffled in a slow small circle and stopped. “Do we truly have plenty-to-eat?”
“Duda!” growled Fnadi-phnig-nyd.
“Duda!” said each of the captains in turn.
“Duda!” said Dyr-jinyr-yy as he solemnly shook his head. He rattled his way, shicka-shick, shicka-shick, shicka-shick... around another small circle and stopped. “Did the great goddess Fnadi-yaphn promise us plenty-to-eat?”
“Aoofn!” cried Fnadi-phnig-nyd.
“Aoofn!” cried each of the captains.
“Aoofn.” said Dyr-jinyr-yy as he eyed each one in turn. “Did she not promise all of the Elf we could eat?”
“Aoofn!” chorused everyone.
“Did Fnadi-yaphn not say easy-to-eat?”
“Aoofn, aoofn, aoofn!” chorused the lot as they took up pounding the butts of their spears in unison.
Dyr-jinyr-yy crossed his arms and nodded deeply before rattling another circle, shick, shicka-shick... and stopping. “Did anyone know of Fnadi-yaphn before she brought us here?”
“Duda...” said first one then another of the wide-eyed captains as though possibly mistaken.
“Dyrney worshiped no sows before Fnadi-yaphn brought us here!” growled Ni-oowfn as he clacked shut his mulish teeth with conviction.
Dyr-jinyr-yy nodded and turned to each of the others.
“Fnadi-yaphn only said!” cried Ganf, shaking his bushy head of snarled red curls. “Where is she? Hiding?”
“Ah!” said Dyr-jinyr-yy, throwing up his hands with a scowl. “No goddess!”
“No goddess, no Elf?” cried Snuph, wide eyed under his brow.
“Two teensy many-huts! Bah!” hooted Ganf. “My sow wants meat! She asks if I am brute or stinking crawl-animal!”
“Your sow's a hog!” grunted Snuph.
“Aoofn?” rumbled Vyp-japf. “Fnadi-yaphn makes all us Dyrney stinking crawl-animal.”
“Hunt Humans,” said Snuph.
“Boof!” hooted Ganf. “Humans stinks! Crawl-animal eat Human!”
“My sow cook Human good,” said Ni-oowfn, speaking out. “That Human kid good.”
“Your sow is stink-hog-crawl-animal!” cried Vyfjapf, as he stuck out his tongue.
“You tooth-dog...”
“Ooot-ooot! Ooot-ooot!” barked Fnadi-phnig-nyd as he pummeled his chest. “Dyrney brutes tough! Eat Human, eat red-eyed-beasties all 'round in brush. Fnadi-yaphn makes Dyrney crawl-animal, but Dyrney still brute!”
“Ooooooo! Gnydy!” chorused the captains, sharing eye-rolling looks from under their beetling brows.
“My sow won't eat red-eyed-beasties!” woofed Ni-oowfn, shaking his shaggy head.
“Woog!” said Ganf. “Red-eyed-beasties owl-shivers to look at!”
“Red-eyed-beasties!” said Snuph. “Snake-shudders, prickle-neck! Whooo-oo!”
“Crawl-animal have prickle-neck-snake-shudder!” said Fnadi-phnig-nyd with a baleful thrust of his chin as he took a step at Snuph.
Snuph took a wide-eyed step backward in time for everyone to look up at the sound of shouts ringing out through the timber.
“Fnadi-phnig-nyd!” hollered a scout as he came running through the leaves, ducking under branches and stepping over logs.
“Here!” cried Fnadi-phnig-nyd, turning to the breathless runner. “Vyr-pudi!” he bellowed as he gave his chest a furious flourish with his fists.
“Ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo...” sang Dyr-jinyr-yy, bobbing his head in time, as
Vyr-pudi came breathlessly to a stumbling halt, throwing himself face-down before Fnadi-phnig-nyd.
“Ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo...” chorused the captains as they nodded their heads. Soon they were leaping in time as they droned: “Ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo...” Suddenly they stopped.
Shickity-shick-shick, shickity-shick-shick...went Dyr-jinyr-yy with his dried up terrapins, shuffling a circle around Vyr-pudi, who was still catching his breath, shicka-shick, shicka-shick, shicka-shick, sh
icka-shick... After the second time around, he stood silent beside Fnadi-phnignyd and slowly raised his arms.
Vyr-pudi rose onto his knees as if lifted by invisible threads from Dyr-jinyr-yy's hands. “Elves and Elves and Elves and Elves,” he said, still winded. “All Elves in great pink-stone hut-cave in big-pond. Many metal-heads with fly-out-bites, all holdy-breath tooth-grit and far-eye.”
“How far?” said Fnadiphnignyd.
“Hogback, hogback, hogback, hogback, open-place...pond-side.”
Fnadi-phnig-nyd and Dyr-jinyr-yy looked at each other. Dyr-jinyr-yy took up the chant: “Ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo...”
Fnadi-phnig-nyd was soon back on his rock, addressing all the Dyrney with news of the Elves, amidst a cacophony cheers and hoots. He ordered them to bed down in nests in the leaves and took Dyr-jinyr-yy, Vyf-japh, Ni-oowfn and a scout named Tref-ni-fryd and set out for Oilean Gairdin through the woods, following Vyr-pudi.
Down the soggy leaves of the hogbacks and across the tumble of rocks in the frigid creeks they went, meandering between the trees. The white half moon, high in the south peeped through the clouds from time to time, casting faint fingers of shadow from the bare twigs of the trees, but mostly it was dark enough for it to be very difficult going for most Elves or Humans, yet the trolls could see as well as any of the owls which were out and made their way along with silent ease. From time to time they would disturb 'possums or coons with glowing red eyes to see them turn away and go crashing off through the brush.
At last they climbed the final hogback and stopped in the shadows of the trees as they looked out over a broad rolling meadow to Caislean Oilean Gairdin, rising from its island in the middle of Jutland Lake.
“Trees, pond-side,” rumbled Fnadi-phnig-nyd as he stepped out into the grass with Vyr-pudi, followed by the others. Across the meadow they crept, keeping to the low places, utterly invisible to Elven eyes until they were standing in the grove of spruce trees up a tall bank from the edge of Jutland Lake.
“See?” said Vyr-pudi. “Metal-heads. Metal-heads, metal-heads, metal-heads, metal-heads.”
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 126
