Presently he came hopping right back with watery eyes to stand open beaked and blinking before Herio who was thoughtfully working around in his mouth a spoonful of scorched beans. “Well, there's one more thing on all of that,” he said, once he had ruffled up and given himself a good shake. “How far is the South Branch of the North Fork from Ashmore?”
“Why?”
“Well, the one more thing is, can we get beyond Ash Fork to camp tomorrow night? You might have to see the place, but I can't imagine that you'd really want to sleep there, either.”
“Oh no, I can't imagine how I would,” said Herio with a nod and a very sad look on his face. “Yea, Hubba, you're quite right. There are far too many ghosts in Ash Fork for me to feel good about camping there.”
“Ghosts!” quacked Hubba Hubba as his neck feathers fuzzed out. “You're sure? Well, no ghosts! Razzmorten told me about the Cia in his head. No thanks! I'm just a mortal bird, here. Sexton beetles are quite enough. No wraiths! You visit Ash Fork and I'll meet you between there and Goll and you can fill me in on all the details when you catch up.”
At the mention of sexton beetles, Chirp, Tweet and Squeak broke out in riotous laughter.
“Whoa Hubba!” cried Herio as he grabbed him up and gave him a nice long scratch on the back of the neck. “Hold on. I'm talking about memories, not wraiths. I'm calling my old memories of home 'ghosts.' It's my memories of my family that haunt me.”
“Yes, yes...well,” said Hubba Hubba with another shake and a quick sort through his tail feathers, “I already thought so, if ye know what I mean, but Wiz's Cia was right serious business, so I was just checking...”
“You slipped!” squeaked Chirp with a snicker.
“Oh, I was just checking,” giggled Tweet as he fluttered in the air at Chirp's toes.
The sparrows, who had by now each found his roost on a white pine bough overhead, were suddenly so giddy that one by one they lost their grip and had to flutter back up to where they were.
Hubba Hubba glared at them.
“Yea. Quite understandable I'd say, Hubba,” said Herio. I'd never go anywhere with ghosts, either.”
“Yea!” said Hubba Hubba with a smart smug nod at Chirp, Tweet and Squeak, who were now pretending to be asleep.
“Hey Hubba,” said Herio after a spell, as he busied himself at rolling glowing ends into the fire with a stick. “I'm right glad you fellows came with me, you know. As we get close, I can really see that I need you with me.”
They watched the sparks from the ends, dashing away into evening sky. “I really miss Hebraun, Herio,” said Hubba Hubba as he worked down a row of feathers on his breast. “He was my chum. You know, he even would ask me what I thought about it, and all.”
“I've heard that from a lot of people...”
“I'd give anything if you ones could o' known him.”
“And I'd give anything if I was a-takin' you and the boys to meet Mom and my little brother...” A screech owl gave a shivering little wail somewhere nearby through the sighing pines. “...Anything at all.”
Hubba Hubba looked up again to see a glistening streak down Herio's cheek in the flickering shadows.
***
They awoke in a bed of white frost under a full sky of stars that was just starting to get light over the mountain tops. Herio was on his feet at once, hurrying to get Gwynt packed and ready. “I'm glad you all are awake,” he said as he untied a linen packet. “Let's have dried corned beef and apricots. You eat now, while I pack, and I'll eat when we're underway. If we move right now, we ought to have our next camp on the far side of Ash Fork.”
Directly, Herio was finding his stirrup with his toe in preparation to mount. “Ready?” he hollered as he threw his leg across Gwynt's rump. He watched Hubba Hubba and Chirp, Tweet and Squeak as they winged forth and took their customary places.
“All right then,” he said with a bite of jerky and a decisive nod. And with a rubbery lipped sigh and a toss of his head, Gwynt had them under way.
“Well,” said Hubba Hubba with a resolute shake of his feathers before leaning forward alongside Herio's cheek. “Today is a right good day for the companionship of friends.”
“It is,” declared Herio with a nod. “So just what did you all find when you peeped over the pass, up the hollow? All I got was how much Chirp likes sexton beetles.”
“There's not a whole lot to tell,” said Hubba Hubba sheepishly, once you get past the skulls and scattered bones, but they're certainly strewn out, all over. And it may be all bare bones, but there's still a kind of foul reek that hangs in the air. Gruesome, if ye know what I mean...”
“Yea, and what there is to tell, I've probably already heard from Captain Bernard. He and I've spent quite a bit of time talking about it. With Ash Fork gone, there'd be nobody to pick over the carcasses, so I'd reckon it's about like it was...”
“Except for the work of the scavengers,” said Hubba Hubba, closing his beak with a clack.
They fell silent for some time, following the path as it wound along the South Branch of the North Fork of the Loxmere River, rising steadily in the crisp air between the pines on the increasingly rocky slopes as it grew light. Ground squirrels scurried around on the tops of rocks to vanish here and there at the sight of Gwynt, plodding up the grade. Jays called. The South Branch was now no more than a small creek, cascading noisily from rock to rock as they climbed. The sun suddenly spilt its amber light over the ridge above, casting stark shadows before brightening all the land about and going aloft.
“There!” tweeted Squeak as he sprang into the air. “There's where all the water comes out of the rocks, and 'way up yonder is the pass!”
“That pass is the Silff,” said Herio as he felt of the water bottles draped across Gwynt's rump, “and that gushing spring is called 'Ffynnon.' Its water just might be the best in all the world and it would be a shame if we didn't fill our skins.” With a couple of clucks of his tongue they climbed up to it at a panting canter. Hubba Hubba, Chirp, Tweet and Squeak were already there, dipping in their beaks and throwing back their heads. He dismounted with the bottles and led Gwynt to the icy pool which caught the thundering water shooting from the rocks. Without a word or a moment to rest, he was astride Gwynt again, heading for the pass. Crossbills traded rattling chatter in the gnarled pines along the way. Chickadees called.
Herio dismounted Gwynt at the top and took off his hat to keep it from blowing away in the wind which was charging up the slope out of Cwm Eryr. Hubba Hubba took a choice position on the cantle of Gwynt's saddle while Chirp, Tweet and Squeak landed where they could.
“This is where we were,” tweeted Squeak. “Is this Cwm Eryr?”
“Yes,” said Herio into the wind from under the flat of his hand. “Up that valley is how Dunvel drug me, across the North Fork and on north, up the length of Cwm Eryr. So you all found remains just right down yonder, aye?”
“Yea,” said Hubba Hubba, “but I don't see anything a-shining down there now.”
“So you actually went down?”
“All the way. We just stayed on the wing and came right back up...”
“Let's go see,” he said without the slightest expression, as he patted Gwynt's neck and found his stirrup.
Before long, they found themselves in the bottom of the valley, seeing the first remains of the Gollian army.
“What are we looking for?” said Hubba Hubba, as Herio dismounted and took up a keen search amongst the remains of the fallen.
Herio made no reply.
“That's north, Herio,” said Hubba Hubba, gliding along beside him as he remounted and trotted away. “Don't we need to go south?”
“It shouldn't be far off,” said Herio, galloping a zigzag from helm to helm along the ground.
Hubba Hubba shared looks with Chirp, Tweet and Squeak as they followed along.
Near a great naked dead elm, ringed with fallen sheets of bark and branches, Hero leaped to the ground to straddle a headless skeleton clad in a hau
berk with a particularly ornate breastplate and gorget. He rolled it over once in the faded tatters of it's black and crimson cape and doublet, looking at it. “Pen cachu!” he snarled between his teeth as he came down as hard as he could with his heel on the breastplate. “Not good enough!” He looked about quickly and spied a large rock. He grabbed it at once, rocking it out of its depression in the ground. It took three good tries with his veins standing out, grunting and straining to get it shoulder high. Then with a stagger or two, he ran forth with everything he had to heave it at the breastplate which flattened to wrinkles, crushing the ribs.
He stood back a moment, getting his breath. “Y pen! 'Na fargen!” he cried, suddenly dashing over to a silver helm resting in the weeds. As he grabbed it up, a skull fell out onto the ground. “Pen cachu!” he cried out at the top of his lungs as he smashed it with the heel of his boot. “Llofrudd! You hanged my little brother! You hanged poor little Cefnogi Rhywun!” Taking a hatchet from behind Gwynt's saddle, he knocked out the eye teeth from the broken pieces and then chopped off the golden spike from the top of the helm. He wrapped all of them in a cloth and without a word mounted Gwynt.
Hubba Hubba, Chirp, Tweet and Squeak traded speechless looks from their perches high up in the dead elm before dropping into the air to follow.
“Bernard said Hebraun himself took off the varmint's head,” said Hubba Hubba as he landed on Herio's shoulder.
“And I am forever grateful, featherhead. I only regret not getting to see it happen.”
“So what's going to happen to the spike and the teeth?”
“They're a-goin' deep into the mire in the stinkin'est privy that I happen to sit on in Goll, at least. Something good. I'm not sure yet.”
Hubba Hubba gave a quick nod and clacked shut his beak.
***
Yann-Ber awoke with a start and a feeling of urgency. “When did I drift off?” he murmured. “I have no idea. Oh, of course not. It had to have been the tea. My! It smelt like old socks and I didn't even ask what it was, but it had to have been valerian. What was I doing? That's why the nurse had Fuzz and Rose see that I drank 'every drop'.”
He struggled to sit up, but found it still beyond him. “Of course, Fuzz and Rose would be no where in sight. Even I wouldn't want to sit by and watch me sleep. I wonder where they went to?” He studied amber light streaking across the brilliant paintings of tropical birds on the ceiling. “Drat! I slept the day away. If I could just get out of this stinking bed,” he said out loud.
“That wouldn't be a good idea,” came the voice of a physician who had just stepped into view.
“Well,” said Yann-Ber, “whoever y' be, you needn't worry. I've already tried and completely failed to hike my stinking carcass up onto my elbows.”
“I'm Erwan, your healer, Your Imperial Highness,” he said with smile and a bow.
“Arabat deonc'h lavar an dra-se!” said Yann-Ber with a wide-eyed gasp. “If someone hears you call me that, you could even be arrested and punished.”
“Oh, I'm pretty good at this,” said Erwan, giving a smooth nod as he drew a chair and sat down beside the bed. “I'm given a fair amount of deference. They let me say what I want, and you do happen to be the Emperor's son, after all.” He laid his scepter bearing two silver snakes comfortably across his lap as he sat back, studying Yann-Ber.
“Of course, but I was disowned seven years ago. My word! How is it that you don't know this?”
“I began tending to the needs of this court a year or two after that, but I couldn't be looking after you now without hearing about it,” he said with a resolute shake of his head. “Blood is blood, after all. It doesn't wash away just like that.”
“Ordinarily perhaps,” said Yann-Ber, “but the Emperor has decreed otherwise. He may be widely regarded as wise and just, but he takes his power very seriously. It's not worth being overheard calling me anything more exalted than just Yann-Ber.”
“If that be your wish,” said Erwan with a dubious look.
“Absolutely,” said Yann-Ber. “I'll not have any good fellow such as you, taking ridiculous risks merely to pay me respect.”
“So are you feeling any better?” said Erwan, as if they had not been discussing anything at all, as he picked up Yann-Ber's wrist to feel for his pulse.
“I think I am, actually. And I know you were doing what you thought best, but please, no more valerian or any other sort of sleeping draught. I don't know how much you really know about my situation, but for me, every moment wasted sleeping is that much less of my short life. I will be dead in three months.”
Doctor Erwan was quite taken aback by this. “If that be your wish,” he said after a careful moment, “but by all means please reconsider if you grow weary from pain.”
“Sir, I'm always in pain these days,” he said with a grimace, as he shifted on his pillow. “These burns are trifling compared to the curse which I endlessly endure.”
“I'm sorry,” said Erwan, “I wish there was something I could do, but...”
“Don't, because there's not. And you're not the first to try. Every single one who has tried has failed utterly. Not possible. Unless of course, you can think of a way to kill my dear wife within the next three months.”
“Colossal witches,” said Erwan, as he thrust out his chin to stare out across the room, “are indeed a bit out of my league.”
“Yeap. And my particular colossal witch appears to be a bit out of the league of every soul who walks or breathes. It was over that, don't you know, that caused Father to disown me.”
Erwan gave a sympathetic sigh as he stood up. “You seem to be doing every bit as well as could be expected with things as they are,” he said, looking Yann-Ber in the eye. “If you change your mind about the valerian, just tell one of the nurses. I'll be back in the morning.” He gave a conclusive nod as he raised the snow white hood of his gown and stepped into the hallway.
Yann-Ber listened to Erwan's footsteps fading away into their own echoes. He let out a sigh as he studied the amber light on the ceiling, giving up the birds of paradise to the deepening shadows. “Here come more footsteps. I can't tell what they're saying,” he thought, as he held his breath and stopped fidgeting under his sheets.
Presently, a nurse stepped in with a winking flame behind her hand and began lighting candles.
“...Oh by all means, I certainly shall,” said the hushed voice coming in behind her.
“He's awake,” said the nurse, speaking out. “Doctor Erwan advises that you're neither to tire him nor to upset him, Your Imperial Highness.”
“Thank you, Nurse. You may go now...Oh wait. Before you go, please tell Doctor Erwan that Father and I want to see him in the Rainbow Hall at eight bells in the morning to discuss some things we've thought of for the college.”
“I shall tell him straight away, Your Imperial Highness.”
By the time she had curtsied and turned to go, Karl-Veur was at Yann-Ber's bedside, looking him over.
“What college, if I may ask, Your Imperial Highness? That chair, yonder, please draw it up and sit.”
“Thank you,” said Karl-Veur, as his blue eyes winced at the formal reference. “Oh, the college. Father thinks enough of your Doctor Erwan that he is building a great school for healers and is putting him in charge of it.” He fetched the chair and sat, falling silent, utterly at a loss for words.
“Not much to look at these days, aye?” said Yann-Ber.
Karl-Veur squeezed shut his eyes, bowing his head to rest his forehead on the edge of the bed before looking up. “Yann-Ber, I want you to know that I am horrified by what has befallen you.”
“But not altogether undeserved, aye?”
“Fates forbid!” cried Karl-Veur as a look of pained sadness swept across his face. “I don't feel that way at all.”
“Thank you, for that,” said Yann-Ber as he forced away a tremor from his chin. “But what about our... what about the Emperor?”
“Emperor! Fates forbid. Our father can be an id
iotically proud and stubborn man, as you well know, Yann-Ber. We both know that he was devastated when you defied him and married his lifelong enemy, but mark well that your return in this condition has him sorely shaken. Given time, I'd lay odds he'll come around.”
“Time is the one thing I do not have. Demonica's curse gives me scarcely three months. You must help me convince the Emperor...”
“Please, Yann-Ber. You will pain me less if you call him “Father.'“
“Father then, if you must. But please hear me and help me convince Father of the new threat that Demonica has become. Mark well that she and her rotten granddaughter have gotten hold of ancient artifacts of immense power and they have already set out to conquer the entire world with them.”
“Very well, but what could anyone possibly do to stop her?”
“Fates help me,” thought Yann-Ber with a huff of a sigh. “What, indeed?” he said. “I realize that it looks hopeless to consider stopping her, and that surely somewhere there must be someone far more capable to deal with her than we are, but I've just come away from very wise people who know of no one with that kind of power. Even the great wizard Razzmorten has been crippled to a mere shadow of what he once was by her with her new found power.”
“My word,” said Karl-Veur with a dry swallow. “If that be true, then I'm even more certain that there's naught that can be done in this realm to stop her from her conquest. But what utter madness! We can't just hand her the Empire.”
“No, we can't,” said Yann-Ber, pausing to look Karl-Veur up and down quietly. “So you see, don't you, that we're already out of time? We've no choice but to stand our ground, hopeless as it may well be.”
Karl-Vuer nodded grimly. “You have convinced me altogether, but Father is...Father.”
“The very story of my short life,” said Yann-Ber with a tight thin smile. “So will you help me convince him?”
“I can't see that there's a choice. What's your plan?”
Chapter 119
The moon was in its last quarter, but it would have scarcely mattered had it beenfull under the thick blanket of clouds. Screech owls gave shivering wails here and there all along the edge of the Jutwoods as Fnadi-phnig-nyd, Dyr-jinyr-yy and Demonica with her wings and halo, led the Marfora Siofra out of the timber in the blackness along the folds of the rolling grassland to the spruce brake atop the banks of Jutland Lake where
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 130
