“Where are his manners of deference and supplication!” said Spitemorta with a huff.
“Gwaelian custom for you, dear...”
“He ought to be flogged!”
“That might be a bad start, particularly when the good general simply exudes such power and control, and you have everything to lose. Looked like you may have met your match.”
“No stinking man's a match for me, Grandmother.”
Demonica's eyebrows shot up. “My, my, Rouanez Bras,” she thought as she pivoted aside. “How you do wish!”
***
Arwr squatted onto his keel in the leaves beneath an oak. He gave a thorough ruffling shake of feathers and a snap of each wing as he cast a sweeping glance at the great vault of the cavern. “I've not seen glow lichen so bright,” he said. “This is the very first cavern I've seen with trees growing inside.”
“I thought diatrymas never went inside,” said Abaddon, clambering off him and stretching as Shot 'n' Stop froze to flick his tongue before slithering down into the leaves.
“That's mostly true, except for the dwellings of Fairies,” said Arwr as he watched Vyrpudi drop cross-legged into the leaves with a rattle of chains. “Remember that Lladdwr, Ceidwad and I once lived with the mothers in Mount Bedd.”
“Vyrdsy-fny-fantn-rof Fnaday-yrrph-if phnyr-sni,” muttered Vyr-pudi with a disdainful shake of his head.
“Hair-sticks-up-grass on Elves,” said Arwr, riveting his gaze on Vyr-pudi. “They no-be Elves, Vyr-pudi,” he said, switching to Trollish. “They're Fairies.”
Vyr-pudi wheeled about on one buttock. “You-speak Dyrney-mouth!” he said, cocking his head in wonder. “How-be when you hollow-head feather-cluck-meat?”
“We-manage. We-speak all-mouth.”
“But Dyrney-mouth be only-speak.”
“I droop-head to your tall-be, but there-be many-mouth-many-speak.”
“Ooot, ooot!” said Vyr-pudi as he lunged to his knees with a smart thump of his chest. “Lots of cluckle-beak and woof-lips, but only Dyrney-mouth be think-speak, so Dyrney-mouth be only-speak.” He folded his arms in front of him with a conclusive nod.
“Wow!” cried Abaddon. “You're just plain speaking Trollish. What's he saying? Is he telling you why trolls eat Elves, yet?”
“Well yes Abby, it seems that I am,” said Arwr with a scholarly sorting of the feathers in one wing, “but we've scarcely commenced conversing and I've learnt next to nothing. You must be patient.”
“Yess. Let'ss be quiet, too,” said Shot 'n' Stop from the leaves along Arwr's breast feathers.
“I know,” said Abaddon, springing to his feet. “Since I don't understand any of it yet, I'll just go find Dad and Lance. You can tell me what he says when I get back.”
Arwr gave a solemn nod and turned back to find Vyr-pudi studying Abaddon, scooping up Shot 'n' Stop to wear him like a collar as he trotted away. “So,” he said, returning once more to Trollish, “I be rolly-eye-ball scratchy-thinks. Just how-much of our cluckle-beak-woof-lips do you big-see-nod?”
“Not-much,” said Vyr-pudi with a great green grin of chewed up oak leaves. “but-since your clukle-beak-woof-lips no-be Dyrney-mouth, it-all-be mud-ful hollow-head. Not-much big-see-nod. But why-does feather-cluck-meat rider be all darty-eye and wrinkle-brow about eating Elf grab-up-squeakers?”
“Ha! You do big-see-nod...”
“Nope. I shakey-head. Woof-lips no-be Dyrney-mouth.”
“You-win, Vyr-pudi. But I speak Dyrney-mouth. Do Dyrney all-think Elves not-people?”
“Elves not-Dyrney. Elves beasty-demons. Beasty-demons must be thunder-thumped all-to head-smash. Dyrney take beasty-demons for grab-up-squeakers. Good to juicy-champ. Make Dyrney thunder-strong.”
“So what-makes Elves beasty-demons?”
“Boof!” cried Vyr-pudi, rolling his eyes in exasperation as he slapped his beetle brow. “You-speak Dyrney-mouth and I forget you hollow-head feather-cluck-meat. Don't you know-about witch-sorceries?”
“Witch-sorceries? You-mean smile-magic? Smile-magic be all-good.”
“All-good? All-good be thunder-splatering innocent Dyrney sows and kids as they snort-sleep in their caves?”
“Of course not,” said Arwr, with a snap of each wing.”
“Elves no-be Dyrney. You too mud-full hollow-head to big-see-nod, but when we head-smash an Elf his demon fly-back to the deep-deep-deep gurgle-holes where it belongs. And when-we juicy-champ his meat we bury-keep his demon from coming-back to this-world.”
“So how-be Dyrney lack-magic?”
“Ooot, ooot!” cried Vyr-pudi as he sprang to his feet with two furious thumps of his chest. “Don't wise-nod that Dyrney have no-magic. We-have Veyf-na-ryr.” And with that he turned his back to Arwr and sat back down in the leaves.
Chapter 143
Rose awoke beneath the cries of gulls swooping over the waves rolling ashore along a snow white beach. She ran her fingers through her sand matted hair, squinting into the bright blue sky as she struggled up onto an elbow. A pair of sandpipers took a fluttering hop at the sight of her and scurried away to peck here and there amongst the shells. “Where on earth is this?” she murmured as she looked up and down the beach to find that she was utterly alone. “And my word, just how did I get here? Oh my! The storm. Oh dear Fates, the ship went down!”
She sprang to her feet in a panic. “Fuzz!” she wailed as she looked this way and that. “Fuzz!” she cried out with every bit of her might. She ran madly after something down the beach only halt in despair when she saw that it was an uprooted stump, washed ashore long ago. “Fuzz, Fuzz!” she sobbed. “You have to be here, somewhere!”
She started up a hurried walk along the sand, looking everywhere. “We went into the sea together. I remember now. We were holding hands. You and I and Karl-Veur.” She turned about to walk backwards for a few strides. Fuzz!” she hollered out. “Karl-Veur!” At last she dropped to the sand. “Anyone?” she said with a whimper as she put her head on her knees and closed her eyes to the sounds of gulls, sandpipers and surf.
***
Jeelys jogged out onto the beach and dashed aside to snap up a crab as Aalid and Sheshey converged on him to pluck off the legs waving from his beak. Inney scampered out of the marram grass and dropped to the sand.
“Wait, Tramman!” she cried, yanking off her shoes. She thrust out her feet into the sand. “I've dreamed of this for absolutely years and years...”
“And you're how old?” said Obbree as he stepped around her leading his unicorn and squatted to examine a vine twining through the grass.
“You're just a big poop,” she said, standing up with her feet still buried. “I remember Momma telling me about the seashore and how beautiful it is. And now that I see it myself, I really agree with her. “Here Sheshey!” she hollered. “Let's go wade in the water.” And with that, she dashed away for the surf. Suddenly she shrieked.
Tramman and Obbree looked at each other with alarm and immediately mounted their unicorns.
Karl-Veur looked up with a start from beside Fuzz to find a wide-eyed Inney with her hand over her mouth, flanked by three huge black and white birds eyeing him keenly, just in time for Tramman and Obbree to come thudding across the sand.
“Rose,” said Fuzz, just as his eyes started to open.
“Just a moment,” said Karl-Veur as he gave Fuzz's shoulder a shake, “I've got to see what this is.” He rose to his knees. “Hoy! We just washed ashore. Our ship went down in the storm. Have you seen a young lady anywhere out here?”
“Rose!” said Fuzz, suddenly sitting up and catching himself from toppling. “Where is she?”
“I haven't seen her,” said Karl-Veur, looking as though he was on the verge of tears.
Fuzz gave a great sob and covered his face with his hands. “Have you seen a young woman out here?” said Karl-Veur, turning to the Elves.
“Mo bean...” said Fuzz, recovering at once, “cailte.”
“Ayd ben?” said Obbree with a look of asto
nishment. “Ta shen bun-ghlare. But you don't need to use it. We understood you right away.”
“Since you're Elves, could this be somewhere south of Oyster Cove?” said Fuzz. “I just don't remember any place along the Jut of Niarg with white sand.”
“I've not heard of these places,” said Tramman. “The only place left in the world with Elves is our own Balley Cheerey.”
“My word! Have we blown so far off course that this is not the Northern Continent? We were headed for what you might call Deatalamh.”
“Deatalamh! Only the oldest fellow in Balley Cheerey ever calls it that. It's Mooar-Rheynn Twoaie, these days. And we're standing on the south-western coast of Yn Cheer My Hiar. The Gwaels, who speak your language and live on the east end, call it Brastyr Howldrehevel. And you mean to tell me that Mooar-Rheynn Twoaie really exists?”
“Yes. It's where we live and where I learnt what little Elvish I know,” said Fuzz as he stretched his painful neck and brushed sand out of his hair. “My wife's brother is married to an Elven princess and lives amongst them...”
“Shee bannee mee!” said Obbree. “Then not only is the old tale true, but there really were Elves who made it all the way there.”
“Well if Yn Cheer My Hiar is the same thing as Lobhadh, then the Elves I know don't have any idea that you all still live...”
“It is...!”
“Pardon me, but I'm positively frantic to find out what's become of my wife. I must search the beach. I don't understand why she didn't end up nearby the two of us.”
“Because you and I didn't end up in the same place either, Fuzz,” said Karl-Veur. “I've been walking the beach since dawn, and I only just now found you.”
“Then she could be anywhere,” said Fuzz, already tramping about in circles, “and we simply must go.”
“We quite understand,” said Tramman.
Inney jabbed Tramman in the ribs with a frown and a nod at Fuzz and Karl-Veur.
“I say!” said Tramman, speaking out as they marched away. “We'd be delighted to help. The more of us searching the better, and we have unicorns. If she made it ashore, we'll certainly find her.”
“And this is Sheshey,” said Inney, falling smartly into step beside Fuzz. “He's a shawk spoogh, and he's the best tracker in the world. And I'm Inney, Sheshey's austringer and bond mate. I started raising him in a basket.”
And with that there were handshakes all
'round.
***
“So we understand each other, gentlemen?” said Spitemorta as she coldly studied General Coel and General Cunneda across the table spread with maps. She drummed her fingers once and stood up.
“Completely,” said Coel, with a twist to his smile which vexed her, as he rose and began rolling up a map.
“It's a shame your face is nice to look at,” she thought with a squint of her eyes. “It needs to be skinned. And look where James's pretty face got us.” She shook her head as if she had a gnat in her nose. “Demonica and I have our strike ready. We move out the moment you have your men assembled. Dismissed.”
Coel and Cunneda thumped their chests with a click of their heels and marched out of the hall.
Spitemorta rushed away to her chamber to be fit into an exceedingly fine light suit of black armor, made just for this occasion. “Take all the risks you want, Grandmother,” she said as she yanked the bell pull. “At least I learnt by your being shot last time...”
“And we'll see how well you hang on with all your extra weight, dear,” said Demonica as she popped into sight directly in front of her face. “Besides, I'll be sitting behind you.”
Spitemorta hopped and caught herself with the bedpost as she stepped out of her linen smock. “Well, I see you're going to great lengths not to take me by surprise in here.”
“Actually I did. You were just making too much racket to hear me knock. And if you object to that, do you want me to take up eavesdropping on you before I appear?”
Spitemorta glowered as she gave her petticoat a fling onto the bed with her toe. “I'd reckon the Gwaels are right neigh ready to go, Grandmother,” she said coolly. “Shall we keep them idling while we enjoy our petty squabbles like proper cwn hithau?”
“By no means, Rouanez Bras,” she laughed with a twinkle of approval in her eye. “Let's not miss your good moment.”
Spitemorta gave a hateful glance at her from behind her calmly determined looks as she nodded at the arriving armorer and his help and held out her arms for the buckling of her breastplate and backpiece.
***
“My dear,” said Razmorten as he gave Minuet a small pat on the shoulder, “Virtue and Abracadabra are all saddled. I'm afraid we're done here. It's time to leave the castle in the hands of the Fates.”
“We're doing the right thing, aren't we Father?” she said as her eyes brimmed with tears.
“We're doing the only thing we can do, if we're to spare as many of our people as we can. And you never know...”
“Of course I know that Father, particularly when I helped make the decision. It's almost as if this place is my last connection to Hebraun,” she said as a glistening streak raced to her chin. “It's almost like losing him all over again. Am I being foolish?”
“Not in the least,” he said as he put his arm around her, “but he'll always be with you. Now dear, we do need to go outside.”
Minuet slowly started for the door. By the time she stepped outside, she was holding her head high. She took her reins and found her stirrup. “Let's go Father,” she said, throwing her leg over, “There's nothing here now.”
Razzmorten settled onto Abracadabra and gave a fierce nod. “Take my hand dear. Let's go build the strongest Niarg ever for Hebraun,” he said, and began at once chanting out a traveling spell to take them to the foot of Mount Bed Chwiorydd Tair.
***
“Fuzz!” cried Rose. “Something terrible in Niarg!” She jerked her head from her knees, exposing rivulets of sweat to the wind as she winced. She covered her eyes and caught her breath. Her face and neck felt hot and raw. The tide was just reaching her feet. A crab noticed her and scuttled away sideways to drop into a hole.
“Oh Fuzz! I'm coming.” she sprang to her feet and hesitated a moment to keep from falling. “All right. I'll commence walking the beach. If Fuzz and Karl-Veur were washed ashore, I'll surely find them by walking first one direction and then the other. They couldn't have ended up anywhere but along the sand.” So using every particle of her strength to turn aside thoughts of his not making it to land, she briskly set out along the shimmering white shoreline.
***
“Inney and I and our shawkyn spooghey will take you north, Mister Fuzz,” said Tramman. “Here. You get up behind me on Cabbyl. Mister Karl-Veur will ride with Obbree and go south. We'll all meet back here by this time tomorrow. If Lady Fuzz hasn't been found by then we'll double our search.”
With waves and nods all 'round, the party divided and set out.
“Hopefully,” said Tramman said after several moments, “if Lady Fuzz...Did I hear you call her Rose?”
“Oh yes. Rose.”
“Then we hope Rose, if I may, will either stay where she is or follow the shore as we are doing. Then perchance, if we travel the same direction, we'll catch her because we're faster by unicorn.”
“Rose has a very good head on her shoulders. I'm sure she'll do exactly as we hope, though knowing her, if she can manage, she'll not stay put. She'll be searching for us.”
Tramman nodded as they fell silent, listening to the sound of hooves in the sand as they watched all about for any wee sign at all.
***
Rose had walked for two hours and was not only quite hungry, but also desperately thirsty, when she began considering the jut of woods she was coming to. It thrust its way far out through the marram grass like a wedge, stopping just above the high tide mark.
“I wonder if there could be fresh water there?” she said, running her tongue over the salty split on her lip as
she studied the herons perched in the trees. “Oh there has to be fresh water with birds like that. There might even be some sort of safe fruit. If I don't recognize it, I won't eat it. I'll come back out directly and carry on until I find Fuzz or drop.”
She knelt on the sand and scooped out a message in huge letters and then made a line of arrows from the water's edge all the way to the trees, pointing to her missive. “That should do,” she said, turning to the woods. “I don't see how anyone coming along would fail to see it.”
***
Fuzz was getting short of breath, trying not to notice the westering sun, just as Inney shouted: “Va shid Jeeagh er shen!” And stood up in her stirrups to point after Sheshey, who was jogging ahead to a spot on the beach.
“There goes Jeeleys,” said Tramman, with a shake of his reins. “They've found something.”
Fuzz was already stumbling into stride alongside the unicorns before dashing ahead to find the tide lapping away at the first letter of: “oods for water. Back directly, Rose.”
Tramman dismounted, knelt and carefully crumbled the points of the sand turned up on the edges of the letters. “I don't want to cause worry, Mister Fuzz,” he said as he stood up to plant his fists on his hips, “but I can't picture how 'directly' would mean something well above two hours. I think it's urgent that we track her.”
“Absolutely!” cried Fuzz, springing to his feet.
***
“Celeste! Celeste!” cried Rodon as he skidded round the corner from the echoing lava tube.
“What on erthe!” said Celeste with a start as she dropped her dough on the breadboard and grabbed her apron. “Abaddon long geen ybe.”
“Razzor...”he gasped. “Razzorbauch! What ever shal weo to done? Hee beth heere for to kylle us oones and for al!”
“That hath no reson atte al. Thou knowest righte wel that long a-go Razzorbauch by Kyng Hebraun ben kyld. Thou remembrest whan Ceidwad and Llwaddwr the tydyngges didde bryng.”
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 155
