Inney flung her arms around him with a great whoop of joy that carried away over the waving grass, making Jeeleys and Sheshey thrust up their crested heads for a quick look about.
Chapter 142
“That's sure some storm a-coming,” said Fuzz, taking off his hat to keep it from blowing away.
“Look at that black, black wall of clouds,” said Rose as men swarmed up the rigging, “and it's sure got the crew stirred up.”
“The captain sent me to find you right quick and get all of us below until this thing blows over,” said Karl-Veur, hanging onto his hat as he came up from behind them.
“Oh hey,” said Fuzz, turning aside suddenly. “Yea. I was just looking out at the water between here and the storm. I'll bet we're in for one good gallop.” He noticed Rose's white knuckled grip on the rail as he took her by the waist to steer her toward the hold. He pulled her well wide of a great coil of rope which was furiously paying out loops.
“Well then, why not have a game o' chess?” he called out in the rising wind as Rose found the first step down. “It's still light.”
“That would be just the thing,” said Karl-Veur as he ducked, tramping down the steps behind them.
Rose blanched and held her middle. “If the two of you don't mind,” she said, steadying herself against the doorway to their berth, “I think I'd just like to lie down for a bit. All this pitching and rocking has me a bit queasy.”
“I can play chess any time,” said Karl-Veur.
“I'm sorry, Rose,” said Fuzz. “I should have asked you.”
“Nonsense! I'll just lie down right here while you two have a game. I can talk just as well lying flat on my back.”
“I'll get the board then if you'll have a seat, Karl-Veur.”
“So,” said Karl-Veur as he watched him setting out each man, “just how did you all become friends with Yann-Ber? I've never once asked you that.”
“Now that would make a tale to tell,” said Fuzz, setting aside the box for the men. “You go first. Well to start with, I had just recovered from an enchantment myself, cast upon me by Demonica's very daughter, would you believe?”
Suddenly it grew very much darker as sailors rushed about, tramping and shouting overhead. As Fuzz, Rose and Karl-Veur each paused in wide-eyed silence, all the chess men fell over and rolled clean off the board.
***
“Hey Lance,” said Abaddon as Arwr caught up with Sheba. “Do you think the Fairies will never let us find them, even though we're mostly a party of Elves?”
“I don't know, Abbey,” he said, tightening his glove with his teeth. “I don't have any better idea than the last time you asked me...”
“Well I'm not panicking, but everyone's finally out of water now...”
“We'll just have to be tough. Sulacha knows it. Water was the very reason why he set out after the Fairy, if you'll remember. So if the Fairy eludes him, he'll hunt for water on the way back. You can count on it.” He straightened up to study the red and purple foothills of the mountains as they met the vast dry basin, still littered with stone logs. “Anyway, I know we'll find water, but I do hope it's the Fairies who show us. I'd love to meet them and let them know that Celeste, Alvita and Nacea are still alive, too.”
“Yea, and Rodon too, Lance. You forgot about him.”
Lance had a fleeting sad look in his eyes.
“You didn't forget about Rodon at all, did you?”
“No, I didn't.”
“Did you leave him out because he double-crossed all the Fairies when he betrayed his sisters?”
“You catch on quick,” said Lance as he traded looks with Arwr, “so you surely realize that if we do find the Fairies, the less said about Rodon the better.”
“Who'ss thiss 'Rodon?'“ said Shot 'n' Stop.
“Rodon is a kind of rat.”
“He ssoundss delisciouss...”
“Well he's really a Fairy, but the wizard Razzorbauch turned him into a giant rat with a fairy's face after he betrayed his sisters...”
“Hooomph!” boomed Arwr, suddenly inflating beneath them.
“Look, Lance!” cried Abaddon. “Three diatrymas just came over that rise, 'way yonder.”
“Hooove!” boomed Arwr, flashing his red and yellow wing patches as he danced a few springy steps. Suddenly he was dashing away in a furious sprint to greet the three strangers.
Away in the distance, the three diatrymas saw him coming and boomed and flashed their wings. Lance spurred Stepper and stood in the stirrups trying to keep up, but fell hopelessly behind.
“Better get ready to hang on, Prinsce Abby.”
“Why? This is already the fastest I've ever been and I don't need any hands.”
“Two of thosse diatrymasses look like femalesses.”
“So?”
“Sso hiss own mother iss the only female he'ss ever sseen.”
Directly, Arwr slowed to springy steps, gave a couple of wing flashes and halted to silently bow again and again as the strange birds did likewise.
“Ich am Mentrus,” said the strange male after it was plain that there was going to be no further bowing, “and Meinir and Gwawr myne sustrin ybe. Weo by the Ffairyes of Fforest y Gogledd han ben forth ysent to bidden yow wolcome and to lede yow anon to thaire village.”
***
“Magic indeed!” huffed Spitemorta as she drummed her fingers on the arm of her great chair. “This aggravation of pinions and cogs mocks my patience. I swear. It does nothing for the fool watching its pointer but stop time. The only way you can ever see it move is by not looking at it for a while.” She snapped shut its lid with a sigh. “But I do like hand gonnes. I like them a lot.” She thoughtfully rolled her ebony egg about in her lap for a moment before opening its lid to stare at its dial of mother of pearl, inlayed with gold numerals. “The best thing about Gwaelian magic is that it can be practiced right out in front of the superstitious without getting them all upset. Honestly. I'm sick to death of peasants and fools.”
“Well then,” said Demonica, suddenly appearing out of a traveling spell with a skinweler in her hand, “you're right ready to enjoy a little sortie to the coast to get away from them, aren't you?”
“Don't do that Grandmother!”
“Don't do what, dear? Don't ask you to go on a sortie or don't use traveling spells?
“You know such spells don't bother me at all the way they do you...”
“You know what I mean, Grandmother. How dare you pop up in my face whenever the fancy strikes you.”
“Much better dear. You're getting so that you're nearly able to express what you mean the first time you try. Well, you won't mind my sudden appearance in the least when you hear what I have to say.”
“Oh really? Then what?”
“You know, I think it would be in your best interest if you found out for yourself,” she said as she vanished.
“Damn you, Demonica!” she snarled as she set aside her wind-up egg. “One of these days you'll wish you'd never left Head.” She picked up her skinweler. “Very well, let's see what's at the coast, as if I can't guess.” She paused, waiting for the swirling colors to clear. “Ha! The army. Their boats are just now arriving at the delta of the Bay of Gollsport. I suppose you win enough this time to have me feeling like puking,
Grandmother.” She shifted the skinweler's image to Demonica's apartment and reached for the Staff.
“Ah. There you are dear,” said Demonica, with a canvas bag of skinweleriou at her feet, obviously awaiting her arrival. “Here's your cloak. I suppose you saw that it was raining on the coast?”
“No, I didn't,” said Spitemorta, looking vexed and nauseated at the same time.
“But since you seem to have thought of everything, did you make arrangements for Nasteuh, or must we waste time while I do?”
“All taken care of dear. So shall we be off then?”
“On the Staff? It is the middle of the day...”
“Well certainly, but with your being anxious enou
gh to come to my room by spell... Very well. The weather is ideal for travel over the roads, that is if you overlook the rain on the coast.”
“No Grandmother. Let's try a traveling spell. Let's get there in time to meet them. Let's just appear somewhere altogether out of sight.”
“My! We are anxious, aren’t we? With your nausea, that's a right good piece to go, dear. But if you must, I know just the place to make for. Take my hand.”
Spitemorta paused long enough for a dry swallow and a deep breath before holding out her hand. Colors whirled madly in her head, making shooting pains in her eyeballs. “Aangh!” she cried as she tumbled onto her hands and knees in the edge of a great squishy pile of rotting fish heads. “Aargh! Unngh!” she woofed as she belched and coughed up every bit of what she had eaten with her late morning tea. “Gracious sakes Grandmother!” She rolled back onto her haunches and staggered to her feet, flinging fetid fish juice from her fingers as she looked down the front of her kirtle. “Couldn’t you have picked a better place than this?”
“Well,” said Demonica as she took a quick step back, “I'd considered the grave yard, but since they're having a funeral, scaring the mourners out of their wits is a bit self-centered, don't you think? Anyway as you can see, it's still raining. But before you clean up enough to put on this cloak, you've dropped the Staff in the fish heads...”
“You pick it up!”
“Ah, ah, ah! Your staff, your responsibility, dear.”
***
The caravan of Elves trudged through the hot red sand in determined silence, following Ceidwad, Lladdwr and Arwr with Abaddon and Shot 'n' Stop as they accompanied Mentrus, Meinir and Gwawr. By afternoon, they had begun bearing to the north-west, away from the feet of the Great Barrier Mountains, and at once found themselves in rolling countryside, dotted with scrubby junipers. By late afternoon it had become quite hilly, and soon they came to a vast forest of great tall pines. “They've stopped yonder, sire,” said Owain with a nod ahead.
“So I see,” said James, staring under the flat of his hand.
“And I do believe that I recognize this Fairy,” said Neron.
“Halloo!” cried the Fairy with a grand wave from where he stood amongst the diatrymas.
“Would you be Meri Greenwood?” said Neron as he dismounted and held out his hand. “Dyn Gwyrdd was your name back when we first met, if I'm right.”
“Not mochel aboven a thousent yere a-go, Neron Ri.” said Meri with a grin as he took his hand and gave it a good shake.
“And just after that, you visited us when we hung the great front door at Oilean Gairdin, and I've not seen you since. And this handsome young man here is James, King of Loxmere-Goll.”
“And thou the Queene of Goll ymaried, whom yow al yfled?”
“You can't imagine how I regret having to admit that, but yes.”
“And thy partye righte soor for water ybe, ey?”
James and Neron both nodded.
“Thanne alowe me for to wolcome hem to the village of Gerddi Teg, the Fayr Gardens of the Grete North Wodes. Weo konnen for to contynue oure introducciones as they hira thurst to slake.”
“Forgive me sire,” said James as he quickly looked about, “but for the life of me, I see no village at all.”
“Thanne by rightes thou the ffirst to seen schuldest bethe,” said Meri as he turned and pointed to a great circle of mushrooms, growing in the mat of pine needles behind him.
“I guess I'm lost...” said James, looking utterly confused.
“Thou nedith na buen,” said Mari with a hearty laugh. “Juste stepe wythinne the cercle. Llewyrch, Danneth and Sulacha awayten thee doun the steyres. Thou nedith carefull to bene to stapen over the musserounes. Mentrus? Plese to lede the way for hym.”
At once Mentrus stepped within the ring and jogged airily down through the dirt and pine needles to vanish altogether, followed by Meinir, Gwawr and then Ceidwad, Lladdwr and finally Arwr.
Abaddon looked panicky as his ears sank into the needles of the forest floor, but he was still bravely astride Arwr when he vanished.
James gave a wide-eyed look about at everyone and then stepped over the mushrooms to plunge his ankle out of sight as he felt for the top step. “Ah! There it is,” he said grandly as he too trotted down out of sight.
“Oh my,” said Lukus. “This brings back memories of the Valley of Illusions...”
“What kind of memories?” said Soraya.
“They were scary when they happened. I'll tell you when we get settled,” he said as he nodded at the ring of mushrooms. “I'm right behind you.”
Meri stood beside Neron, smiling and beckoning to the arriving Elves as they carefully filed into his Fairy ring and out of sight.
“This is wonderful, finding you alive and well after all these years,” said Neron. “In fact you very likely saved all our lives. In spite of all my divining on the way here, I found no trace of water whatsoever on this side of the mountains.”
“Hit ben herynge from Sulacha that the world thoghte me deed and ygon that was a byg releef to me,” said Meri, sticking out his tongue with a grin.
“Why?”
“Wel, atte that moment, as hit thoghte me, Razzorbauch yit ylyved. And thou mustest to reconyse that hee hise hondes on my gretteste sours of power didde geten. Hee used hit for to tourne the Forest Primycies in-to the Chokewoodes, of cours, yit worse than that, hee koude done ony-thyng to me hee wanted if hee me didde fynden...”
“Pardon my interrupting you, but what power? Are you telling me that you once had the Heart of the Staff?”
“No, no. Al of the grete grene world hadden Calon Fforydd, the Herte of the Forestes, in the Grete Stoon Tree, the gretteste tree in the Koad Karreg, which eke the Stoon Forest be ynamyd. Ich symply wher hit ben ykneu. Ich wolde visite hit from tyme to tyme to renuwe. The Ffirst Wysard fond out and chesyled hit out for hymselve. Ich can nat how Razzorbauch coom by hit. So whoso bethe Kyng Hebraun? Sulacha seyde hee Razzorbauch didde kylle.
“Dead now, I'm afraid. He was my friend. He was a good friend to all. Razzorbauch's very granddaughter, Queen Spitemorta, killed him...”
“Thanne Razorbauches owene flessh and blode the Herte doth haven? Wo un-to us!”
***
“Did you bring extra skinweleriou, Grandmother?” said Spitemorta breathlessly, Staff and shoes in hand, as she hurried through the rain along the cobblestones to the quays.
“Of course dear. What other encumbrance do you suppose has me lagging behind you?”
“Good! I forgot all about saying anything, but that's why I wanted to hurry. I wanted some skinweleriou out along the quays before they docked...”
“I don't see how we'll manage dear, because here we are, and they'll have the first gangplank down any moment now,” said Demonica with a look of surprised approval. “Stop! Take the Staff and dry us bone dry. Have the Staff keep us dry. And I've got the bag with six balls, one for every other ship. I'll have a soldier pass them out. And this one. You take it and stay here and address the generals when they come up to you.” And with that, she dashed to the first gangplank to hit the pier, leaving Spitemorta to stand regally beside her shoes in the rain with the Staff in one hand and a skinweler in the other.
Spitemorta watched the soldiers form a huddle before scurrying away to distribute the skinweleriou, as Demonica returned with a towering soldier to where she was standing.
“General Coel, am I right?” said Spitemorta.
“Indeed you are,” said General Coel as he knelt before her, “of the Mercenary Army, at your service.”
“Your Majesty?” said another officer as he came forth, “General Cunedda of the Gwaelian Regular Army, as I'm sure you remember, at your service.”
Spitemorta paused for a moment to let her eyes dart about over the crowds of soldiers gathered along the quays. The generals grew wide eyed as they realized that neither she nor Demonica had gotten the least bit wet out in the steady rain. Seeing that the soldiers were all disembarked,
she lifted her skinweler and began to speak: “Greetings to all my good Gwaelians and welcome to Gollsport.”
Shouts and gasps broke out throughout the multitude followed by dead silence.
“No!” wailed a soldier at the far quay as he dropped his ball onto the planks.
Demonica smiled with boundless approval.
“Time for a welcoming bit of our own style of magic, wouldn’t you say, Grandmother?”
“It does seem appropriate,” she said with a nod.
“Grandmother and I wanted to welcome you personally and to escort you to Goll.” she said, returning to her skinweler.
“We thank you for your kind gesture, Your Majesty,” said Coel, avoiding looking up and down her enchanting dryness as he stood there positively drenched. “We stand ready and at your command...”
“Yes,” she said, turning away from her ball, “but wouldn't you like to visit the taverns to eat and even get a good night's rest so that you might be ready to march at sunrise?”
“Certainly, if that be Your Majesty’s wish. However, we have just eaten and we disembarked quite ready to march all day and night to Castle Goll.”
“In that case gentlemen, have you spare mounts for Grandmother and me?”
“Absolutely,” he said, snapping to with a click of his heels as he beckoned to an orderly. “We have two very fine mounts, though being war breeds, they might be a bit large. And we certainly have a saddle apiece, yet even though you'll see women riding amongst the mercenary ranks, I'm right sorry to say that we have no pillions for your saddles.”
“Beats two days sitting astride a stick, and you have a certain audacity,” she thought with a squint as she looked him straight in the eye and declared: “What you offer will no doubt serve. If we set out immediately and ride all night, we should reach Castlegoll before tomorrow evening.”
Coel turned aside to give the order to prepare to move out on his signal just in time to be interrupted as two spirited unicorns of excellent lineage were led forth. “These are amongst our best. I know them by name. This is Dyswryans,” he said, presenting the reins of the dapple grey to Spitemorta and turning at once to Demonica with the reins of the chestnut, “and this be Crak-taran. Now if you'll excuse me, I shall find my own mount and we can be underway.”
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 154
