“I ran out of strength long before I started the journey. It was plain fear, I'm afraid, that kept...”
“Please drink this tincture, Your Majesty,” she said, silencing him with a finger to his lips. It'll stop the pain and make you drowsy, so that I can put a new poultice on your sore.”
“No hot iron?”
“No...”
“You're sure?”
“No iron, I promise,” she said, putting a wee blue glass bottle to his lips. “Now take this swig, sire. Take every last drop.”
He lay back as Lance and Abaddon tucked blankets all about him. The last thing he knew was a whippoorwill starting to call from somewhere not far away.
The moon had set and the whippoorwills and owls had long gone silent when the Elven camp began to stir. Neron and Sulacha climbed up for a talk, just far enough into the rocks to look out over the camp.
“It will be a bit of work if we put him into the wain like that,” said Sulacha. “I was actually about to suggest that we abandon the wain in order to travel the faster.”
“So what's it like between here and the first gap?” said Neron as he traced the mountain tops to the east with his eyes. “Just what are we going to be getting into today?”
“Just a little piece north of here, not above four furlong, the valley narrows down to just a steep sided gorge that meanders along for several league. The wain will get through most of it without too much trouble, but there be thickets just every once in a while that will take at least a dozen axemen to keep the brush cleared ahead of it.”
“Well, it seems like we brought that many axes...”
“Yea, but that's not the worst of it. After we've gotten through all of that, there are the Spouts to deal with...”
“Spouts?”
“Hot water, just as hot as ever slops over the side of a boiling kettle...”
“What? You mean out of the ground?”
“Oh, I wish I didn't. But it is a sight to see all right. I watched it for quite a long spell. I'd say it shoots off three to four times an hour...”
“What shoots off?”
“Well, there's a flat place where nothing grows, with these enormous ground hog holes, you might say, a-sticking up out of the flat. Scalding water spouts up out of these holes as far into the air as the Sacred Maidenhair tree in Oilean Gairdin is tall.”
“So what do we do?”
“Well there are rock ledges on either side of the gorge. The east side at least, is just broad enough for unicorns to get by, single file. The other side looks as though it might be, but I wasn't up on it. The wain's the only thing that couldn't possibly manage. I reckon it could make it across the flat, straddling the spouts.”
“I suppose we'll have to leave it on this side of it,” said Neron with a sigh.
“Well, remember I said that I watched it for a good while. All the spouts go off at once, maybe three to four times an hour...”
“So we wait until it shoots off and then send the wain across?”
“That's what I was thinking.”
Neron gave a nod of resolution as he studied the first red glow of the morning beyond the mountain tops. “So what's on the other side of the Spouts?”
“It stays narrow for maybe another mile and then the valley gets broad again. That's where we start angling up the west side and head for the first gap.”
***
James awoke from a jolt in a pile of blankets and quilts better than a foot deep. He stared up at the canvas stretched taut across bows in time for another jolt to whack his head into the sideboards. He scooted sideways into the center of the bed.
“A wain,” he said. “I'm glad I didn't make the Elves stay in camp until I recovered. Now, am I still with them, or is Lance taking me back to his mothers' kettle?” He felt of his head. “My. No fever. Whatever the woman did, she's certainly good at it. Gracious! I've never seen such a beautiful woman.”
He slowly got up onto his hands and knees. “Whew! Dizzy. I hope I can comb my hair over the spot I made with the iron.” He could see a young Elf in front, driving. Out the back he could see Lance and Abaddon on Stepper and Sheba with Dewr in tow. “Looks like we're traveling with the Elves, or I wouldn't expect one to be driving the wain. Oh wait. Here come a whole queue of Elves around the bend with Owain, Llewyrch and Aeron, behind Lance and Abaddon.”
Suddenly the wain was drawing to a halt. “How are you doing in here, sire?” said Lance, sticking his head in over the endgate with Abaddon.
“Weak as all thunder, but I believe to my soul that I'm over this. I don't have a bit of fever, and my head no longer throbs.”
“Well don't get too frisky, Your Majesty. I'd let Mary the White make her pronouncements before you climb out.”
“So why are we stopping?”
“Look out front.”
James wheeled about on his knees and peered out beside the driver for a bit before turning back to Lance and Abaddon. “I'm not sure what I'm seeing,” he said.
“Those foxholes are scalding waterspouts,” said Abaddon. “They shoot off three or four times an hour, so we're going to wait until they do and then go across.”
“Yea,” said Lance. “Everyone else, except for your men and Abby and me, are going up onto the east ledge to follow it across.”
Everyone waited. James went to the front and propped his elbows in the seat beside the driver. Without a word, Mary was lightly touching about his sore, her hair waving in the breeze with iridescent brilliance.
“It really is a kind of purple!” thought James. “I wasn't dreaming, after all.”
“Looks like we got it,” she said.
“I am so very grateful, lady,” he said, feeling oddly daft and tongue-tied.
“Stay in the cart,” she said as she put her finger to his lips and vanished.
James returned to studying the mudflat and foxholes, not quite sure what to expect. Ravens croaked from the rocks above. Water thrushes sang from time to time from the willows along the edges of the mudflat. Suddenly the earth rumbled as James felt gooseflesh and the unicorn hitched to the wain reared up at the sight of the hot geysers shooting sky-high. The steaming water dropped to the mudflat like a waterfall from nowhere. Everyone sat stunned.
“Go!” cried Lance and Owain riding abreast of the wain.
“Get across before hit goes off again!” cried Llewyrch, as he, Aeron and Abaddon caught up on either side. The wain started with a jerk. The mudflat still steamed, upsetting the unicorns into prancing steps. The wain bounced, pounded and scraped, throwing James about from sideboard to sideboard before he managed to brace himself in the center of the bed.
Without warning, a muffled heaviness was upon them as a tawny lyoth dropped from a ledge above onto the wain's unicorn, knocking him flat and ripping out his throat with a bite and a mighty heave, capsizing the wain. The driver leaped from the wain only to be grabbed and bitten to death by the giant cat.
Another lyoth dropped onto Abaddon, knocking him off Sheba. Llewyrch was on his feet with his claymore drawn, the very instant Abaddon hit the ground. With a swing of bug-eyed fury, Llewyrch cleaved away the top of the lyoth's head. As the great cat turned on him, he ran him through.
A strange long pike flew from the rocks to stick in the ground near Llewyrch as both lyoths bounded away to vanish up the gorge.
James crawled out of the wain, staggering to his feet in time to have Lance heave him into Dewr's saddle. Lleyyrch and Aeron knelt beside Abaddon.
“Move! Move! Move!” cried Lance, as he spurred Stepper. “Grab him up! No telling how long this took!”
Sheba was nowhere to be seen. Aeron picked up Abaddon and heaved him up at Llewyrch, who had just remounted. As they galloped out of the far end of the mudflats, the earth began to rumble. As they dismounted, laying Abaddon out on the ground, the geysers shot skyward. They looked up to see Arwr settling onto his keel to allow Mary to dismount.
Lukus and Soraya came upon the tawny beasts only rods away on the
ledge, just as they sprang. They watched the attack in stunned helplessness.
“What were those, Lukus?”
“I thought you might know,” he said, as he swung Daniel off his hip and sat down with him. “I'm sure glad we weren't on the unicorns with these two punkins. Well if you're asking me, the only thing I know about is the tawny lyoths. Sometimes they call them phantom lyoths. But as far as I knew, they were only myth, just some of the tall tales which go with these mountains...”
“But?” she said, as she sat, unlacing to offer Ariel a breast. “But the tawney lyoths of the tales were supposed to be the hunting beasts of the Cat People.”
“Well what would you call those people with them who threw the spears?”
“Probably Cat People.”
“I don't know if anyone else saw the men,” said Soraya as she traded twins with Lukus, “but Great-Grandfather and Sulacha need to know, don't you think? Shall I go, or you?”
***
“You were ahead of us, Grandfather...” she said, speaking out as she rode up and dismounted before Sulacha and him. “You undoubtedly saw the cats, but did you see the men with them?” She could see by his look that he hadn't. “They were standing right on the ledge in our way.” she said. “They were dressed in furs and had long pikes. They stood right beside the beasts, petting them and we clearly saw them set them on Abaddon and Ian before slipping over the edge after them. Could these be tawny lyoths and Cat People?”
“Well?” said Neron, turning to Sulacha.
“Why not?” he said, scratching the bristles on his chin. “I would have no way of knowing, but we might as well call them that, for they certainly fit the tales. And if you're asking what I know about them, I've not seen them on this side of the first gap before. But I did see signs of them several days ago, between the first and second gaps. And three hundred years ago, I watched them hunt between the second and third gaps.”
“So, do you reckon that this is all we will see of them?”
“Could be. However, they never knew I was around. This time we have a whole swarm of us and they certainly know we're here.”
***
James flung himself from Dewr's saddle and knelt beside Abaddon. “Abbey!” he cried. “Can you hear me?”
“He's got pulse, sire!” said Aeron as he felt of Abaddon's neck.
“Thank the Fates!”
“Speaking of the Fates, maybe we should be a-getting out o' the way of one of them,” said Owain, rising to take off his hat at the sight of Mary standing before them.
Mary took charge at once by having Llewrych, Aeron and Owain clear the area of the gathering crowd of onlookers. “Please see King James to that rock where he may rest until I call him, Lance.” she said. She looked up to see James firmly planted. “Very well, but I certainly don't want to have to paralyze you with a spell just to keep you out of my way.”
James gave her room at once, stepping back onto Lukus's foot. “Lukus! I beg your pardon.”
“You certainly have it,” said Lukus. “You've far too much on your mind to worry about my foot.”
“You're lucky, you know,” said James, nodding at Daniel and Ariel on each of his hips. “you've still got yours where you can keep them safe.”
“So how is he?”
“He has a bad looking purple knot swelling up behind his ear.”
“Mary is the best healer I know of,” said Lukus. “Some say she's better than the Elves.”
“She seems to be healing my head once and for all, even after Elven medicine and a hot iron failed,” said James as they fell quiet, watching her tend Abaddon.
“Dad!” wailed Abaddon.
“Stunned by his calling him Dad, James hesitated then rushed to his side.
Abaddon opened his eyes just long enough to smile and take his hand before going limp and closing his eyes again. James went wide eyed as a white fear flashed through him.
“Do you remember this wee blue bottle, King James?” said Mary with a look of kind serenity.
“Why, yes.”
“And that's just how you went to sleep last night, sire,” she said as she lightly brushed the backs of her fingers along Abaddon's cheek. “He'll be out longer than you were, though, so don't worry. He's cracked his skull, whereas you merely tried to burn a hole through yours.” She peered at James's head. “I want to re-dress that before you go to sleep.” She stood up.
“Aeron? Llewyrch?” she called. “I want you to fashion as quick as you can a stretcher for me to carry Abaddon on Arwr's back. He's not to be banged about for a few days, and this is the only way...”
Chapter 137
“Are you certain that you must leave so soon, my dear?” said King Theran with a look of regret as he pulled away a piece of roast hog between his blade and his thumb. “It's been nothing short of uplifting, having you and Donnel here. Why, I've especially enjoyed the company of Captains Girom, Drest and Erp. It has been such a long time since anything fascinating or joyful has happened in this kingdom.”
“I'm afraid we really must be going, sire,” said Tramae with a sad smile from across her goblet. We've already stayed longer than we expected and Father will undoubtedly be concerned if we've not returned soon.”
“Yes, yes. Of course. Forgive me. I'm afraid I'm simply being a selfish old man. It's my fault that these halls no longer ring with the sounds of youthful merriment.” He looked away at the rows of apple trees, alive with the calls of robins, beyond the balustrade of the balcony. A drawn look came over him as he spoke. “Had I not turned away my only child in her very moment of need, I'd still have her and I'd know my grandson as well.”
“Oh please dear King, don't say such things,” she said as she took up his hand. “Myrtlebell was being hunted down by the witch queen of Loxmere-Goll. Had you sheltered her, no doubt she'd have been taken from you and executed. Then you'd have lost your grandson as well, and maybe even your kingdom and your own life, sire.”
“Oh, I would gladly have given my life and my kingdom into the bargain, had it spared her.”
“But you're a wise man, sire,” she said as she searched his face. “Didn't you refuse her asylum because you knew that had she stayed here, she'd not be safe from Spitemorta in spite of everything that you might do?”
“I swear that those were my exact convictions, but she could not possibly have understood that I turned her away to protect her in the only way I could,” he said, looking from his trencher to his lap. “I'm certain she went to her death believing that I had betrayed and abandoned her.” He shook his head and looked up with red watery eyes.
“What else could she think? What would anyone think? She pleaded with me to let her stay and I told her she had made her bed and now she simply had to lie in it. What a horrible thing to say! It was the only way, you see, that I could think of to get her to flee before it was too late. But at the time I thought that someday, well, I'd see her again and be able to explain and to make it up to her...” His voice faltered and he looked up, his face wet with the tears he could no longer hold back.
Donnel looked away in solemn deference at the sheep being turned into the orchard.
“Sire,” said Tramae. “Myrtlebell knew that. She truly did. We talked about that very thing and she told me that she knew Bratin Brute was no match for Loxmere-Goll. She also told me that she looked forward to the day she'd be able to return to you and show you Edward.”
“Is that true?” said Theran, going wide eyed. “You're not merely telling an old fool a tale he wants to hear?”
“Sire, I've come to have a such a great deal of respect for you in our short time here, that I'd gladly tell you a tale to ease your pain, but I've not done so. What I just told you was the truth, and I swear it on pain of death.”
Theran sat with his eyes closed for a moment, as the robins called and the sheep bells tinkled. At once he stood and knelt by her chair, drawing her into his arms for a sound hug. “Thank you, dear girl...” he whispered. “And you too, young
prince,” he said, speaking up. “And if my grandson looks as much like you as your captains and sister have said, then he is a fine handsome young fellow, to be certain. And if he has even half your character, I am truly a fortunate old fool.”
“Sire,” said Donnel as he rose from the table and bowed. “I thank you for your hospitality and kind words, but I'll not have it that you're a fool, even if your hair be white. When you meet your grandson, I know he'll say the same.”
Theran grinned and returned Donnel's bow. He turned to Captains Girom, Drest and Erp. “Sirs...” he said.
“Sire!” cried Arianrhod, throwing wide the balcony door. “Spitemorta!”
“Here?” said Theran, as everyone exchanged wide-eyed looks.
“Yes!” he said, catching his breath. “She and the sorceress Demonica just now arrived and demanded, mind you, an immediate audience with you. I told them they'd have to wait, since you were busy, but they actually gave you three minutes to wrap up your affairs. In all my years in the court, I've not once heard of such a thing.”
“Quickly,” said Theran. “Take this other door. It goes to a stairway to the ground on a different side than they came in. You'll be long gone before they ever leave...”
“Thank you sire, but no,” said Captain Girom with a shake of his head as he stood tall. “We Beaks have vowed to kill those two witches, sire. We will not abandon our honor!”
“So unless the rumors be greatly exaggerated, that those two now have both the Great Staff and Calon Mawr, its crystal Heart,” said Theran, “you may be condemning us all to death, Captain.”
“I can't imagine either of you having any reason to have with you any of the special darts we used on the runks in the dungeon, right?” said Girom to Drest and Erp.
“Why would we when Taylorg keeps them?” said Erp.
“I know, but it seems like one of you supplied Caelis and Buthut, is all,” said Girom before turning to Theran. “There's nothing for it then, sire. We'll use your door. I'm sorry that we're unable to do more, but you do have the magic slate and can call on Brude Talorg if things get out of hand with the witches.”
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 148
