“But you are quite perceptive all the same,” said Ceidwad, “for we are indeed parting ways as you guessed...”
“And Arwr...?” said Lance.
“He leaves with the Elves,” said Lladdwr, “and we catch up after a visit with your mothers, whom we could just as easily refer to as our mothers. We couldn't be this close without stopping at Mount Bedd. Shall we tell our mothers of your happy success and give them your regards?”
“Yes. Please do. I miss them dearly.”
“Yea,” said Abaddon. “Me too. And tell them their apple pie is the best thing I've ever eat.”
Laddwr and Ceidwad studied Abaddon up close with one large dark eye apiece before straightening up and stepping back. “Farewell, then!” boomed Llwadder to the party as he turned aside with springy steps.
“We'll be along in a few days!” cried Ceidwad in her tenor boom, wheeling about with a great rustle of feathers to dash away after him and vanish into the woods.
A water thrush called as a parliament of crows landed in the crown of a nearby birch with a flurry of cries. Leaves rattled. At once the party came to life, urging their unicorns to the top of the tall hogback with all speed. When they reached the top, the Elven camp spread before them a good furlong away through the trees. They found the camp in a state of industrious tumult, with every Elf busy at packing away the tents and gear for the journey ahead. Arwr jogged out to meet them with a flash of red.
“Good morning!” he boomed. “Have you returned with King James to join us?”
“Indeed we have,” said Lance, returning his bow with a nod. “This is James, King of the realms of Loxmere and Goll.”
James bowed his bandaged head.
“I am most anxious to speak with you when time permits,” said Arwr, “and I look forward to the company of Lance and Prince Abaddon. He turned to Abaddon with a bow. “I very much enjoyed our previous discourse, brief though it was, Your Highness. I now look forward to the opportunity to continue our conversations at length. And I'd be delighted to give you another ride anytime.”
Abaddon beamed. “I shall look forward to that also, Master Arwr.” he said, returning a sweeping bow. Lance and James shared wide-eyed smiles over his grand new manners.
“Well,” said Arwr. “With His Majesty's leave, I'd be delighted to see all of you to King Neron.”
***
They found him under the great marquee, the last tent still standing, bent over a table with an Elf known only to Arwr, studying a map with keen interest.
“The one with King Neron is Sulacha, the tracker,” said Arwr quietly as he waited for the Elves inside to notice.
“A troll,” said Llewyrch, “chained to the tree on the far side, isn't it?”
“Yes,” said Arwr. “But he's not Jutish, he's Gwaelic, an Elf Killer. “Ceidwad and I decided just this morning that he may have been telling us that his name is, 'Vyr-pudi.' We've memorized quite a bit of his speech, but this is the first particle which has made sense to us.”
“He's got good ears,” said Llewyrch. “Did you see him look up when you said, 'Vyr-pudi...?'''
“Ah Arwr!” said Neron stepping out of the marquee with a warm smile. “Have Lance and Abaddon returned safely from Goldtown?”
“Yes. They bring with them King James and three of his soldiers.”
“Good tidings,” said Neron as Sulacha stepped out behind him. Introductions were made 'round in short order and Lance wasted no time telling Neron what had come to pass.
“Sire, my King, my Prince and my three Gollian comrades ask that we be allowed to travel with you into the Wilderlands. We, of course are ready to be subject to your command and to bear what burden or do what task you deem necessary.”
“Well. That sounds fine,” said Neron. “We'd be right honored indeed to have you amongst us.”
“Sire,” said James, “if the Kingdom of Loxmere survives the horrors to come, I pledge you eternal allegiance.”
Neron gave a firm nod and clasped arms with James in comradeship.
***
After an afternoon of hard travel, the Elves managed to pass through the stands of birch and aspen covering the foothills of the Great Barrier Mountains, climbing steadily to a gap in the sheer rock walls of the mountains proper just as the shadows fell. As the last calls of the laughing quail echoed from the rocks, Lance looked up at James from the fire he was stirring.
“I can't believe we got this far this afternoon,” he said with a nod, looking out of the gap, across the vast valley to Mount Bed. “You know, I used to come over here to this notch to camp when I was a kid, living with my mothers. It's quite a trek on a unicorn, but I wouldn't be surprised if Ceidwad and Llwadder catch up with us by tomorrow evening, as fast as they can move. And speaking of moving fast, sire, you look beat...”
“You know, Lance, it's not too late,” said James as he pulled off his bandage with a wince to gingerly feel of his head. “If you'd rather have more time with your mothers in Bed Chwiorydd Tair, there's not a reason under the sun for you not to. You don't have to follow me into the unknowns of the Wilderlands. You've already done more for Abaddon and me than I can ever repay you for.
Abaddon looked up to keenly study Lance's face.
“No sire. I'll not be returning to Mount Bedd just now. My mothers know my mind and they expect me to be in the service of my king.
Suddenly, Abaddon threw his arms around Lance's neck, hugging him for all he was worth. James caught Lance's eye with a smile and a nod. Somewhere up the rocky hollow a great grey owl gave a booming wail in the deepening shadows.
“Sire,” said Lance as he returned Abaddon's hug. “What's that iron rod you have in the fire?”
“Well. You said your mothers expect you to be in my service. Why don't you start by picking up the rod with this rag and holding the red end to the sore on my head? My head's hot and it throbs.”
Abaddon got very wide eyed and stood up as Lance swallowed hard and picked up the glowing iron.
“Ready?”
“Yes sire,” croaked Lance.
“Now!” cried James, coming forth on all fours with his head down. Lance planted the iron with a hiss. James groaned, but held fast.
“Damn!” cried Lance, yanking back. “Forgive me sire, but any more and I'd burn clean through your skull!”
James sat back, catching his breath.
“You sure have grit Your Majesty.”
“Abaddon needs an example if he's ever to wear a crown someday,” said James, still holding one eye shut with a wince. “But he also needs to know that there's not a single commoner about mucking the stables who can't do what I just did.”
“Pardon me, King James,” said Neron, appearing in the shadows with a bow. “Don't put your hands on the burn nor get anything against it, until I get a poultice on it for you. I've got to get back, but when you're ready just come over to my fire.” And at once he was walking away, leaving James, Lance and Abaddon sitting in silence.
“What are you doing, beating up on our king, Lance?” said Owain, stepping into the light of the fire with Llewyrch and Aeron. “I'd ask how ye were, Your Majesty, but we all know you're 'way too tough to hurt.” Everyone laughed and fell silent. A stick in the fire popped, sending sparks chasing away into the sky.
The sudden cry of an infant across the camp caught Abaddon's attention. “That must be one of Lukus and Soraya's twins,” he said, turning to James. “Have you seen them, yet? Ariel, the little girl is the prettiest thing I've ever seen. It's a good job that Momma and Nanna Demonica don't know about them, don't you know?”
“Why's that?”
“You really don't know?” said Abaddon with a flicker of his old scorn. “They think Lukus and Soraya are dead. The last thing they want is for them to live and have a baby 'cause of the proper scene. You know, the proper scene. It's real important, but what is it?”
For a moment he had everyone.
“Prophecy?” said Owain with a respectfully knitted brow as
he stepped forth tospit in the fire.
“Oh,” said James. “Well. It's when some great seer predicts that something is going to happen in the future. The prophesy that I think you must have heard your momma and nana talking about was made years ago by the Elves.”
“So, what is it?”
“It says that the child born of a Human and an Elf will destroy the Heart and the Staff and the evil foe who tried to wield them.”
Abaddon stared away in awe at Soraya soothing Ariel. “No wonder,” he murmured.
Chapter 136
Herio was awakened by sunlight shining into his face. “No!” he cried, throwing aside his covers. “No!” He sat up in panic. “I'm late! If Spitemorta called for me, I'm dead, just like every single one of her serving boys, up until me. He sprang to his feet, flinging things about as he fumbled to put on his clothes. He ran his trembling fingers through his hair, furiously yanking out a tangle before tying it back. He flew out the door and nearly fell as he ran down the stairs.
“So,” said Bedivere, tapping her wooden spoon on the lip of the kettle she was stirring. “Here ye be at last. Had a nice sleep, did ye, Hero Boy?” She stood up, wiping her hands on her apron.
“I don't know what happened,” he said with a blush as he looked at the floor.
“When I went to bed I couldn't fall asleep as I usually do. I spent most of the night with my eyes open. I just now woke up...”
“And ye look hit too...”
“Has the queen...? Has the queen called for me?”
Bedivere wrinkled her brow, studying him up and down. “You remember the warnings I gave you when ye came here and took this job, don't ye?”
Herio closed his eyes and nodded.
“Now, here ye be, scarce started into your service and ye show up above two hour late,” she said with a slow shake of her head. “Queen Spitemorta won't have tardiness, Hero Boy.”
“I wish I'd never come here,” he thought, closing his eyes again. “Why did I ever...?”
“Are you hearing me, Hero Boy?” she said with a look of hardbitten concern as she shook him by the shoulders.
“I'm dead.”
“No ye ain't. What ye be is damn lucky.”
“You mean the queen is in such good spirits that she's decided to spare my life?”
“No. The queen doesn't have hit in her. But no matter, because she left this morning with her awful grandmother,” she said, suddenly turning aside to stir her kettle. She tapped her spoon and turned to Herio with her hands on her hips. “Anyway, I've no idea where they went, but the word is that they'll be gone for at least a fortnight and maybe twice that. And that's why you're lucky, Hero Boy. She was here when you should've been up, but she must've been too busy a-plottin' and a-snortin' with Demonica to call for ye. Then she left. She doesn't know a thing in the world about your dereliction of duty.”
Herio's knees gave way and he sank onto a stool. “Isn't it your job to...?”
“Ha! Now look 'ee here, Hero Boy. Ain't no one in this castle left from the days of Queen Bee and King Brutelee as can abide the queen and her evil ways. We stay here 'cause we've got no place else to go. We don't go one step out of our way to help her. I'm relieved she didn't call for you ones this morning. Now I've got some advice for ye, and you'd better be scared enough to take it.”
“Yes, ma'am?”
“Clear out. Now. And don't you dare come back. And as far as I be, you clean vanished. Mystery to me.”
“Yes ma'am. Right now,” he said as a shudder ran through him, “but won't I be stopped if someone sees me leave?”
“If Spitemorta's gone, who'd be after you?”
“Thank you, ma'am,” said Herio, leaping from the stool to hurry for the door. “I'll certainly never forget your kindness.” Then he rushed back and gave her a sound hug.
Bedivere hugged him right back with her beefy arms. “I won't forget you either,” she said stiffly as she pushed him away. “Now get!”
She turned away to daub her eyes with her apron as the door went closed. “Hate to give you ones up,” she murmured. “Ye make me wish I'd had that daughter.”
Herio flew up the stairs to his room in a daze. “Tweet and Squeak,” he said as he crammed things into his panniers, “where did you all manage to get to? If I don't see you between here and the stable, I'll have to go on a hunt.” Quite unexpectedly, he heard the whir of their wings as they flew in to alight upon the glazed lip of the wash basin.
“Herio!” chirped Tweet. “The witches have gone and won't to be back for some time.”
“Yea,” tweeted Squeak, “So we can take our ease for a bit.”
“Not at all,” said Herio as he yanked the straps of his panniers. “If they left, you can bet they're off to get their army from Gwael so they can attack Niarg again. We have to get home immediately and warn them.”
“But Hubba Hubba and Chirp are already warning them,” tweeted Squeak.
“Yes, but they didn't know when. And we're not safe here any more.”
“Were we ever?” chirped Tweet.
“Not really, but it just got lots worse this morning. Now, let's get Gwynt and talk on the road. The sooner we're out of here, the better I'm going to feel.”
“To the stable,” tweeted Squeak, and they flew out at once.
***
“There's the castle...” cawed Hubba Hubba, as he looked out across the rolling green countryside, “and Razzmorten's tower! I thought it was supposed to have been destroyed.”
“That's what Herio said,” squeaked Chirp. “Spitemorta must have been exaggerating.”
“I hope,” said Hubba Hubba. “Maybe Pebbles and the all the little snappers are fine, after all.”
“And Melody...and Twitter and Flutter. Of course as you know, none of us nested in the tower this past season...”
“Yea? But your hens visit the tower every two shakes...” said Hubba Hubba as he went wide eyed. “Chirp, I'm sorry. We've flown all this way with me jabbering about my family, and I've not remembered yours once. And I'd bet they were roosting in the stables, anyway. It was night, right? But now we see the tower standing...”
“I don't see anything wrong with the front of the castle proper, either,” squeaked Chirp as he dove for Razzmorten's top window.
Hubba Hubba followed with a dive of his own, landing beside Chirp on the sill to gawk about anxiously, looking for his nest box and Pebbles and the Snappers. “No nest box,” he rattled. “No anybody. And you know? Every single block and stone looks just a whisker different, somehow.”
“Looks different to me,” squeaked Chirp. “It looks new...”
“Woov!” said Fifi, flinging drool as she lunged at the window sill, leaving dirty wet streaks on the wall with her paws.
“You survived,” said Hubba Hubba, studying her with one eye, “in spite of being as useful as your weight in green carbuncles, Lather Lips. Where's the Wiz?”
“Woov-varf!” cried Fifi before flopping to the floor with a sigh to take up thumping her bony tail.
“What's all the racket for, aye girl?” said Razzmorten as he stepped into the room.
“Woov!” said Fifi, thumping her tail even harder.
“Wiz!” cawed Hubba Hubba.
“My word!” said Razzmorten.
“Big vocabulary, Fang Face,” rattled Hubba Hubba as he leaped from the sill to glide over her and land softly on Razzmorten's arm as Chirp fluttered to his shoulder.
“We heard that the witches attacked the castle. Are Pebbles and the Snappers all right? Where are they? And I thought your tower was down.”
Razzmorten's look of delight faltered as he set Hubba Hubba and Chirp onto the table with a sigh. “It was. They took down this tower and the outside walls of six rooms along the front. Minuet and I used magic to help the carpenters and masons put it to rights, or they'd still have the scaffolds up...”
“Hey Wiz!” cawed Hubba Hubba. “What about Pebbles? What about Melody and Twitter and Flutter? And what about
my little Snappers?”
“Of course,” said Razzmorten, drawing a chair and sitting down heavily. I apologize. Pebbles and the lady sparrows are fine. But I'm sorry to say that Mic and Bill were killed when the tower went down.”
“No!” squeaked Hubba Hubba in a faint little voice as he ruffled his head feathers and closed his eyes. For a long moment, no one moved as robins called hither and yon, far down in the garden below. “How bad did the little fellows suffer, Wiz?”
“They never knew what hit them.”
“And Pebbles and the other Snappers?”
“All fine, except that none of them wanted anything more to do with the tower, so they moved in with Minuet. I'll take you right now if you'd like. They're certainly going to be excited to see you.”
“Yea, but first I need to talk to the queen. It's urgent. I have things that you and she need to hear right now.”
“That sounds bad.”
“It is bad.”
***
The bright moon had climbed high in the sky by the time a breeze was stirring the scarcely rattling leaves of the aspens enough to make the pines sigh. Nearby a screech owl wailed, answering another some distance away along the rock walls. James jerked awake in a panic, tangled in his sweaty blankets. His sore throbbed with his heartbeat and he was chilled. He gave out a moan as he struggled to sit up.
“Hey Lance!” said Abaddon in a loud whisper as he tried to wind the blankets about James's shoulders. “He's awake. He's sitting up.”
Lance immediately appeared beside Abaddon with a strange purply red haired woman who was so gorgeous that James wondered for moment if he were still dreaming.
“Fates!” he muttered. “I must still be infected.”
“You certainly are,” said the woman, feeling of his forehead and then all about his sore with a touch as light as a moth, as he jerked away with a gasp.
“Didn't mean to be rude,” he moaned. “Boy, that iron. You'll have to tie me down this time...”
“No we won't, King James,” said the woman, still studying his sore. “
“I'm Mary the White, and I'll have you over this before you know it. And your sore, sire, would have killed an ordinary mortal between the dungeon at Castle Goll and here. Any place like that breeds naught but foul humors.
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 147
