“Now, let's see...Oh yes. The Human metalheads from Goll might start hunting you, so until Veyf-na-ryr is old enough help you do damage, you'll need to be able to eat Elves from time to time in order to have enough Elf magic in your bellies to deal with them. That's all. We gave you your feast. You just don't want to run out before your god-brute is grown. You'll be fine. Fnadi-yaphn has made sure that you'll always have enough if you are careful.” She looked at each of them and smiled “You can talk now, Fnadi-phnig-nyd. You can get up. In fact, all of you may go.”
They looked at one another in wide-eyed silence for a moment before all of them dashed away at once into the darkness.
“Well, I guess that impressed them,” she said as she felt of the Heart in its pouch in her kirtle. “Well Spitemorta, I've cleaned up yet another of your sticky little messes which you don't grasp or appreciate in the least. If this keeps getting worse, I may have to impose something permanent far sooner than I'd ever planned on. Too soon would be quite inconvenient.”
She reached for her crystal ball. “Time to see what the kiez has been up to, today.”
***
“Great!” thought Spitemorta as she covered the swirling skinweler with the folds of her gown, “Just when I'm about to have fun with James.”
“Your Majesty, we're here for the mess,” said Nimue, pausing to curtsey as she arrived with a whisk broom, dustpan and two orderlies carrying a large basket. She motioned to the orderlies and squatted at once to begin sweeping up glass.
“No. Get that last,” said Spitemorta. “I want the bones and armor taken to Demonica's room before anything else.”
They set to the task at once with trembling hands. For all they knew, she had just done this to someone, and word was certainly getting around that witnesses to her acts of witchery did not live to tell it. Spitemorta followed along to make sure that it was done right. She leant against the door jamb, watching them arrange their basket of pieces on Demonica's bedspread before scurrying by her with very wide eyes.
“So,” she said, thoughtfully thumping a tooth, “If sweet Auntie Minuet sent me this lovely decoration, she can't be far from Cwm Eryr. And if she's out and about like that, she's been fool enough to leave doddering old Grandfather Razzmorten in charge of Castle Niarg.” She gave a grinning gasp of shock as she snapped to. “Then it's an emergency! If I don't arrive at once to teach her a lesson about her stupidity, the moment will pass without my help.”
She gave a giddy whirl and stepped into the hall to go for the Staff. “Too bad for kiez face Demonica that she'll miss out on this. She might not get a better chance to smash Razzmorten...”
“Yes. Pity!” said Demonica from just behind her, stopping her in her tracks. “Did I give you a mortal scare, dear?”
“You're not that good, Grandmother” said Spitemorta with a dry swallow as she tried to calm her breathing. “Minuet is out and about, throwing trash through people's windows, so I thought it a good time to visit to Niarg, and since you were nowhere to be found...”
“Right. I suppose that's what you were discussing intimately with the late Captain Brutus in my room, was it?”
“Actually...”
“And he, vengeful over his condition is out soiling nice white bed spreads and spreading the gossip that the grieving Minuet has taken up wanton vandalism...”
“The crazy thing about you Grandmother is that you're 'way closer than you have any idea,” she said, marching past her, back into the room. “Look at this...and this. These are Minuet's coronary seals, and fresh burnt. And if you haven't the sense to see that,
Hebraun certainly wouldn't have wasted time leaving these marks when he took off Brutus's head.”
“Questioning my sense might cost you your head, dear.”
Suddenly Spitemorta lost track.
“And speaking of Brutus, dear, it's been a while now and I see you've not yet got yourself another captain of the guard to grovel and blindly carry out your every whim. Of course, you're altogether short on anyone with whiskers. Even so, don't you think you need an army? How about a woman army?”
“I want to be feared, not laughed at!”
“I wasn't serious,” said Demonica, throwing her head back for a laugh.
“I can never quite tell...”
“Indeed. I've long suspected...”
“Besides, I have a growing army of young soldiers...”
“An army of growing children, you mean...”
“They're enough of an army when we have the Heart and the Staff,” said Spitemorta as a wise look came over her. “And speaking of that, while you've been enjoying shoving me around, you've overlooked that Minuet is gone from Niarg Castle as we speak. Shouldn't we be using the Heart and the Staff for some kind of raid? We'll not likely get a better opportunity for some time.”
“Are you sure that you want me along? You seem to be resenting my help...”
“Of course I still want your help, Grandmother. We've an agreement after all. I'll certainly be holding up my end...”
“Right!” said Demonica with a good laugh. “Well. As you say, Castle Niarg is just sitting there, asking for it.”
“I'm off to my chamber to fetch the Staff, Grandmother. Are you coming?”
“Oh!” she chuckled. “I'm right behind you,”
***
By now the full moon had risen high in the south, bathing the countryside with pale light. Spitemorta and Demonica stepped over the Staff and shot away from the throne room balcony, gathering speed as they climbed. Spitemorta seemed to be getting much better at this, at least it was far scarier for Demonica, particularly with only one hand to hang on with. The wind shrieked through the fringes of their clothing, making them feel as though they would nearly freeze to death.
“Ha!” cried Spitemorta with a bounce. “There it is!”
Demonica opened her eyes and practically fell at the sight of the ground nearly a score of times further away than she had ever expected. “Yea!” she chattered.
“I say we use the Heart and blast it to smithereens the way you did Oilean Gairdin.” she said as she dropped into a heart-stopping swoop for a close pass.
“Aaaaa...!”
“How's that?”
“I said: I'd do that, except we'd have to land...”
“Why not? Here, let me...”
“No! It's too risky. See those soldiers down there on the wall-walk? Look at those over the portcullis. She didn't take all of them by any means. Besides, I feel her protections, even if you haven't noticed. I'll have to figure them out before...”
“So? Her wards are no match for either the Staff or the Heart.”
“Go up some...! Unggg!”
“Like that, Grandmother? You were saying?”
“You still don't quite grasp Hebraun's archers, do you? The moment we violate the wards, Razzmorten will have them shooting at us. We'd better work from up here.”
“Very well, Grandmother, but can't you use the Heart up here?”
“I planned on it. But by all means get in a lick or two with the Staff. At best, we'll only manage small stuff before they route us.”
“Let's go!” cried Spitemorta, lunging into a swoop.
“Easy!” gasped Demonica, wide eyed at having to let go of the Staff to get at the Heart.
At last she frantically grappled it into the open, to stab at the side of Razzmorten's tower with a searing ruby bolt from her fist, blowing out a great red bite of hurtling stones into the court yard, toppling the great turret onto its side like a felled tree, as Spitemorta shot out a lavender fire from the end of the Staff, exploding the outside walls of a half dozen adjacent rooms on the third floor, before making for the heavens for another pass.
“Look!” cried Spitemorta as they swung 'round. “Razzmorten's in the courtyard!”
“Fly right close!” shouted Demonica. “I want him to see is my face when he dies!”
Spitemorta took a sudden dip and Demonica let out a deafening scream. “Up!” sh
e cried. “Oh help! Up!”
Spitemorta nearly lost control, wrenching 'round to see.
Demonica grabbed her by the shoulder and dug in her nails. “I've been shot!” she wailed. “I can't deal with it here! Take me back to Goll! Now!”
Spitemorta surged far aloft. “Fates!' she thought. 'If she falls off, I'll never recover the Heart...”
“Now, please!” shouted Demonica.
With that, Spitemorta leveled off and shot away at once for Castle Goll.
Chapter 129
“Well, we certainly got her,” said Razzmorten, as he watched Demonica and Spitemorta leap out of sight into the black night sky, “but woe unto me for only having the power to deflect an arrow her way which someone else loosed.” He groaned at the sight of the castle. “There's nothing to my tower but the stairway, and she tore out the entire fronts of six third floor rooms. My, what a homecoming for Minuet! They sure weren't wielding much power for having both the Heart and the Staff... Oh, what am I doing! I'd best get everyone combing the rubble in case someone's hurt...”
“Razzmorten!” cried a flapping young parrot as he grabbed onto his shoulder with both feet and his beak. “We need you in the tower! Hurry! They're buried!”
“Maxie!” cried Razmorten. he turned at once to dash for the stairway.
“No!” cried Maxie. “Not up there! Down there where the tower fell!”
“Oh dear!” he said, stopping short. “There's nothing but a pile of stone blocks. Are you quite sure that anyone is still alive in there?”
“I got out from right next to them.”
“You know exactly what spot?”
“There!”
Razzmorten put his head amongst the stones and listened. He shot to his feet with bulging eyes and threw wide his fists. At once a dozen huge stones tumbled aside. Now they could hear muffled cries here and there. Flinging out a stone at a time with his staff, he quickly uncovered four of Maxie's nest mates, each one charking: “Help! Help! Help! Help!”
Before him lay a large stone slab which he rolled over with a wave of his staff to reveal Pebbs, the smallest of the brood, with two smashed toes. She hopped up at once, ruffled and stumbling. Morty, who was pinned beside her, strained to lift his ruffled yellow head, but seemed unable to move any of the rest of himself.
“Oh no!” cried Razzmorten as he turned over a piece of rock the size and shape of a breadboard to find two dead little birds and Pebbles, out cold. “Your mom's hurt and sleeping, and I'm so very, very sorry about Mic and Bill.”
He murmured a few things in Old Niarg over Pebbles and then Morty before gently scooping each of them into his arms, stumbling out of the rubble and dashing away to the castle kitchen with five wide-eyed young parrots clinging to his clothes. “Oh, Lieutenant,” he called out to the man in light armor approaching him, “Was anyone hurt, that you've found?”
“Everyone was inside for the night, it seems,” said the man with a salute. “Those popinjays come out of your tower?”
Razzmorten nodded.
“Well, I expect those two in your arms be the only ones.”
***
In the kitchen they found the cooks and servants huddled together, waiting for some word of authority.
“Ah! Minerva,” said Razzmorten. “Could you find me two parrot sized baskets for Minuet's Pebbles, here, and my little namesake, Morty?”
At once Minerva sped out the far side of the kitchen to return directly with two bread baskets lined with linen.
“Perfect,” said Razzmorten as he carefully laid Pebbles and Morty into the baskets. “I know that nursing birds is not your normal duty, Minerva, but could...?”
“Say no more, sir,” she said with a smile. “I'd not mind at all. I've always admired the queen's birds. In fact, it would be especially delightful if the rest of the brood stayed here to keep me company.” She gave him a sly wink.
“You're a treasure, Minerva...”
“Oh, you're most welcome sir, but we are all still terribly concerned over what happened to the front and to your tower...”
“I do beg your pardon,” he said, taking on an oratorical tone as he addressed everyone present: “We have been smote with a magical strike by Queen Spitemorta of Goll and her grandmother, Demonica of Penvro.”
There were gasps all 'round.
“Do you think they'll be coming back soon?” said
Minerva.
“Not immediately. Sergeant Llygad got her with his longbow.”
***
Spitemorta was still traveling at a good clip when she came to a stumbling landing on the balcony of the throne room which sent Demonica sprawling across its flagstones.
“Damn you!” she yelled, rocking to and fro to keep the ends of the arrow through her shoulder from touching the floor. “You landed like that on purpose!”
“I thought this was an emergency, Grandmother. Isn't 'hurry!' what I kept hearing all the way here? You could appreciate my effort...”
“Pain's the issue here, dear, in case you lack the imagination to see for yourself. Help me onto your bed!”
“My bed?”
“It's the nearest one, and I'm not sure I can get onto my feet by myself to get me there...”
“I don't know about my bed. They just got my room cleaned up and you're really bleeding all over everything...”
“Help me up!”
“You objected to my giving birth in yours...”
“Help me to your bed, Now!”
“Oh all right. Here,” said Spitemorta rolling her eyes and thrusting out her arm. “Yuck! You're all icky.” Presently they were hobbling across the throne room for the hallway to Spitemorta's room.
Demonica toppled to the bed's edge with a yelp and a moan, and sat catching her breath. “Hey!” she cried. “Where are you going?”
“Well I got you here, and now I have to have clean clothes brought...”
“The bell pull's right here, dearie-do, and you can wait a minute, too! Come pull this thing out when I'm ready.”
Spitemorta sighed and came back to the bedside. “Very well, Grandmother. What do you want?”
Demonica frantically dug about the right side of her rumpled kirtle with her left hand. She had to squeeze shut her eyes for a moment to keep from passing out from all her blood loss. At last she had the Heart, pressing it against her shoulder, nearly fainting from the sudden ending of her pain.
“Well, what do you want me to do? I'm standing here, Grandmother.”
“Pretend to be concerned and patient if you don't want to vex me.”
“I'm sorry, Grandmother,” said Spitemorta as an unexpected wave of white-hot fear washed through her.
Demonica burnt the arrow shaft in two with a curl of blue smoke, sending the point clattering to the floor. “Put your knee against my back and pull it straight out with both hands. Straight, mind you! I don't want it broken off in me.”
Spitemorta set right to work. Blood spurted out of both holes before stopping suddenly, the moment Demonica applied the Heart.
Demonica gave a great white-faced sigh and rolled backward onto the white linen quilt, quite unconscious.
Spitemorta lingered in the room. “What kind of spell did she cast over me?” she thought as she tapped a tooth. “I mean, how did she manage to force me to stay and pull out her hideous arrow? It's a pure power struggle, and she's been getting everything she wants. No! I will not let her win and take my realm from me. I've worked too hard. Say! There may never be a better time to grab the Heart than right now!”
***
“I'm right honored for the recognition, sir,” said Sergeant Llygad, “but I hardly feel I earned it, if you know what I mean. It was a bad shot, plain and simple. When I loosed it I knew it went wide, but the wind must've caught it and put it right.”
“You've saved my life, Sergeant,” said Razzmorten, “and possibly all our lives. I'm not surprised by your honesty and I'm conveying your deed to Queen Minuet.”
“Aye,
sir!”
“And Captain Spear?”
“Yes?”
“She'll be back...”
“Demonica, you mean?”
“And Spitemorta. They're witches. If the wound wasn't mortal, it's quite temporary. You need to have a good number of men on alert at all hours. So unless you've anything further to add, you're excused to resume your duties.”
At the smart salutes from Spear and Llygad, Maxie winged in to land before Razzmorten on the table. “Momma sent me to tell you she'd like to see you. I'm supposed to say 'when it's convenient,' but I'm not quite sure what that means.”
Razzmorten threw back his head for a laugh. “How about right now?”
Maxie did a pigeon-toed about-turn on the slippery table top and leaped into flight back to the kitchen to find Pebbles up and talking to her surviving brood.
“Razzmorten,” said Pebbles, looking up at once. “I owe you my life, so please remember that I'm at your service, any time you're in need.”
Razzmorten raised his eyebrows. “I thank you, gracious lady,” he said. “These are dark times. Your help might be the very thing I need any time.”
Pebbles nodded. “My two nestlings...”
“What are your wishes?” said Razzmorten, giving her a scratch.
“I know they died instantly,” she said, hesitating to blink and clear her throat. “Do you reckon Minuet would mind a couple of small markers in the family grave yard, you know, a place where Hubba Hubba and I can...?”
“My word! I can't imagine her wanting anything else. In fact it might be best not to wait...”
“I'm so glad you brought us to Minerva. She's been so good to us. See those two little boxes on the shelf, yonder? She brought in Mic and Bill for me. She's found a trowel. There'd be no problem, then?”
“Of course not,” he said as everyone went silent for a good while.
“Please let me know if there's anything you need,” he said, scooting back his chair at last, “anything at all...”
Presently the brood nudged Maxie out onto the table from where they huddled between the two baskets.
Razzmorten hesitated at this, pushing up his spectacles and giving an encouraging smile.
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 140
