“That's Smole's shop,” he said, straining to get onto his feet.
“Then let's go see what he's doing then, shall we?”
“But aren't you here to see the catoprolite mine?”
“I think you really want to show me into where he's working,” she said as if his mind had merely been wandering.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said, hurrying past her to throw wide the door. “But...”
The young man at the first of the six lapidary wheels looked up from his work and stopped pumping his treadle at once. This Demonica looked oddly taller than she ought to have looked to him as he brushed off his leather apron and stood, and he could see at once that Budog's hands were trembling.
“My dear Smole...” said Spitemorta as Budog rushed to stand between them.
“This...” said Budog with panicky dry lips, “is Nolwenn. He's in charge at the moment...”
“And Smole?” she said. “Where's he?”
“That's just it, Your Majesty. He was stubborn and wouldn't work but so fast, no matter what Intron Demonica wanted...”
“So you beat him to death.”
“Why no!” said Budog, innocent as the daffodils of spring. “I told him he'd have to speed it up, but Mazhev, now he just throttled the daylights out of him and wouldn't back off no matter how much Smole and I hollered at him.”
Spitemorta glanced beyond Budog's shoulder to have Nolwenn catch her eye with a very careful shake of his head. He had not enjoyed the beatings he had got from Budog any more than Smole had enjoyed his.
“So since Mazhev's not here speak for himself, he's the one who killed Smole then, aye?”
“No! He did the actual beating.”
Nolwenn was still shaking his head.
“Budog,” she said, gently calming him as she idly pointed the Staff here and there. “Now just get hold of yourself. There. That's better. Remember what I said about not knowing anyone who had survived deceiving me?”
Suddenly Budog exploded like a bomb, flinging tools off the walls, knocking one of the ball grinders off his stool onto the floor and stinging everyone's eyes with his hot ashes.
“So Nolwenn,” she said, cradling her staff on one arm, “would you please follow me outside?”
Nolwenn stepped out behind her, leaving the door open behind him. “Yes, Your Majesty?” he said, squinting in the sunlight.
“The catoprolite,” she said, “how's the supply holding out?”
“Inexhaustible for the time being. That is, no one has seen an end to it. Would you like me to show you? What I won't be able to show you right now are the rubies and sapphires...”
“Rubies and sapphires?”
“There are good veins of each,” he said, studying the mounds of earth nearby. “This particular mine started out as a ruby mine, but when the catoprolite was found, Demonica brought in gonne powder from Gwael to unearth it and buried the other minerals.”
“Gonne powder,” she said as though she had not heard of it.
“Yeap,” he said, drawing in the dirt with his toe. “Mean stuff. They collapsed every single tunnel before they knew what they were doing with it.”
“Are you in charge of the mine?” she said, looking him over minutely.
“I have been since Budog and Mazhev smashed Smole's skull.”
“So why aren't the skinweleriou as nice and smooth as they were at first?”
“Budog and Mazhev...”
“Really?” she said, stepping up to straighten his collar as though she were his tailor. “So they'll be smoother and rounder with Budog gone, aye?”
“Without a doubt, Your Majesty,” he said with a calmness that Spitemorta found appealing.
“So if I get rid of Mazhev, will you be able to make them as good as Smole used to make?”
“Absolutely. And faster.”
“Well Nolwenn,” she said, “since you're giving me all the right answers, what do you know about Demonica's holdings? How far south does she have land?”
“Clear down to the Mammvro,” he said, “a-going straight south, you know, the Red Desert, the Red Lands. She owns the whole west coast. In fact she has holdings here and there all over the Dark Continent, which she has gotten from the House of Dark over the years. You'd about have to speak with Emperor Azenor to know...” Suddenly he stopped short with a gasp of alarm at the sight of Spitemorta leveling the Staff at him.
Spitemorta gave a playful laugh. “And you're going to take me, Nolwenn,” she said with eyes of glee. “But don't worry. Now I've got you dressed for it. And I daresay you look handsome enough to be my steward,” as she thought: “You're so right about power, Grandmother. And all the power in the world will have to be mine in time.”
Chapter 159
Nine crows traded caws with one another under the grey skies of late morning as they winged their way over the spruce trees and up to the top of Mount Bedd Chwiorydd Tair, where they circled the smaller of the two craters a time or two before dropping in tight spirals into its echoing blackness.
“You've been in here?” cawed Hubba Hubba.
“No,” cawed Pebbles. “But I know where Minuet and Razzmorten went.”
“I can't see!” cried Flirt.
“You will!” cawed Pebbles. “At least you're supposed to!”
“I see a green glow!” cried Maxi, “'Way, 'way, 'way down...!”
“Popinjayes!” said Celeste, looking up from her scrying ball at the kitchen table. “Nyne of hem. On hira way in righte now.”
“Popinjays?” said Minuet as she and Nacea put down their knitting. “Not crows? Father turned Hubba Hubba, Pebbles and their brood of seven into real crows. He didn't just cast crow glamouries.”
“So hee didde,” said Celeste. “And heere come hise nyne crowes beryng proude popinjay hertes.”
And before anyone had the chance to draw a breath, the room was alive with the arrival of crows, settling onto Minuet and Razzmorten and along either side of Celeste at the board, with a great commotion of ruffling feathers and sorting through wings.
“We're here Wiz,” said Hubba Hubba.
“So I see,” said Razzmorten.
“And we got here with everyone, soldiers, refugees and goats and they're all down the hill with Herio and Philpott...”
“And a babi with poweres mochel lyche Abaddones,” said Celeste with a puzzled squint at her stone ball.
“Yea,” said Hubba Hubba, “the Damned Baby.”
Celeste turned to look at him for a moment, perched on Razzmorten's shoulder. “The babi needeth in-syde to comen, this minute,” she said as she glanced at consenting nods from Alvita and Nacea.
“Hubba Hubba!” said Minuet. “You too? It must have a name.”
“Yea. Nasteuh. It's Spitemorta's...”
“Alvita, Nacea and Ich hir to Longbarke now moste to taken,” said Celeste. “Als soon as weo arne doon, everych oon schullen in-to the oother krater from out-syde to buen ybrought.”
“That's better than twelve hundred Humans and a whole mess of goats,” said Maxi.
“And al moste ben in-syde,” said Celeste, “everych laste oon.”
Razzmorten and Minuet took three unicorns and within two hours had returned with Nasteuh, her wet nurse Blodwen and four of the best nanny goats. The moment Blodwen turned over Nasteuh to the wide-eyed Fairies, they vanished with her without a word, on their way to Longbark.
“So what did you think?” said Pebbles.
“Of Nasteuh?” said Minuet as she put a spot of milk in the bottom of her cup and picked up the teapot. “I thought she was the most strikingly beautiful baby you'd ever want to see, black ringlets of hair all 'round her pretty little face, except that her eyes and the way she looked at Blodwen gave me shivery goose-flesh.”
“Yeap,” said Pebbles. “Damned Baby.”
“And I swear she looks at me that way because I'll no longer feed 'er my blood along with my milk,” said Blodwen, licking her fingers as she buttered a piece of warm acorn bread an
d dug out a spoonful of blueberry jam. “You want to see how she's cut me up?” She set down her biscuit, offering to pull the string on her bodice.
“Thank you,” said Minuet, “but I'll not put you through that...”
“Ye sure? 'Tain't every day you get to see a teat clean gone.”
Minuet shook her head. “Say,” she said. “You're fresh. Where's your baby?”
Suddenly Blodwen's chin went dimply as her eyes filled with tears. “My... my baby...” And with a great whooping sob she threw her arms around Minuet.
“What happened to your baby?”
“Kilt,” squeaked Blodwen before wailing out with the grief she had held back for weeks.
“Spitemorta?” said Minuet.
Blodwen nodded as she sniffled and quaked.
“That's what she did to my husband,” said Minuet. “And I promise you dear, I won't rest until we kill her.”
After a time, Blodwen squeezed Minuet's hand and sat up.
“Wiz?” said Hubba Hubba. “Pebbles said that right when she left to find us at Cwm Eryr, you went to use your scrying ball to see what happened to Bernard and them. She said that you saw hundreds of dead on both sides at Jut Ford before she took off. What did you find?”
Razzmorten put his elbows on the board and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I had no way of telling at Jut Ford,” he said with a weary sigh. “I did manage to find two parties of our captive soldiers though, somewhere between maybe five hundred and a thousand strong apiece. One was going up the coast, just north of the mouth of the Loxmere River. The other one was just a bit west of Dradn Deannaigh. Bernard was with that one, and he looked pretty badly bunged up too, but he was a-managing to stay on the back of a unicorn. So if they don't keep a-beating on him, he'll probably be all right.”
“Any sign of the witches?”
Razzmorten shook his head.
“If you're even close to right Father, we've lost anywhere from twenty-five hundred to thirty-five hundred fathers and husbands,” said Minuet. “And if Goll has enough Gwaels to move such large numbers of captives, why didn't they just kill everyone outright?”
“Two castles down, right?” he said. “Maybe they want slaves to build new ones. Has to be something like that. Of course we wiped out their men at Ash Fork. I suppose they could be for any kind of labor.”
“If they're for building castles,” she said, “that gives us some time to work out an escape.”
“One can hope,” he said.
After a time, everyone had grown silent. Minuet went back to her knitting and Blodwen decided to cut up the rest of the apples as the birds fell asleep, one by one.
Presently Rodon appeared, putting wood on the fire for more tea in time for Celeste, Nacea and Alvita to come 'round the corner with Nasteuh.
“You're back,” said Razzmorten, covering an eye watering yawn.
“Longbark saw Nasteuh?” said Minuet.
“Yis,” said Celeste as she stood before them, gently bouncing Nasteuh, “and she seyth that she Abaddones verray same lynage doth haven. Hir grete-graunte fader ben in dede Razzorbauch (and nat thou, Razzmorten), and hir grete-graunte damme ben Demonica, as wel. But ther nis nat no thyng Longbarke hath lyche un-to this to seen. Nasteuh eke kenne to trowes, roches and vampyr battes ybe. She is in dede a dampned babi.”
***
Flame landed with a bound just beyond the shade from the noonday sun cast by the rock overhang of the kitchen and gave his feathers a good shake before making a hurried waddle inside. “We've got company!” he hollered before he could see.
“We're right here, dear,” said Lipperella, standing up from the table to peek outside. “For dinner? Do you reckon I've fixed enough?”
“Who cares?” said Flame, grabbing up a dainty from the table. “Goody, good! Hot pickled kangaroo rats.”
“You're terrible!” said Lipperella, giving him a good swat with a dish towel.
“Edward and Laora are leading them in right now,” he said, rubbing his belly where she got him. “Three diatrymas and two humans, looks like.”
“Diatrymas?” said Spark. “All the way from Niarg? Has to be trouble of some kind.”
“We'll see. Here they are.”
“Momma! Papa!” cried Laora as she and Edward landed at a run. “Edward and I found Arwr and these new diatrymas, Mentrus and Gwawr. And they've got Sulacha and Lance, and Abaddon and Shot 'n' Stop. And they have news about the witches...”
The diatrymas came to a springy halt and dropped to their keels to unload their passengers. “I beg your pardon, Spark,” said Arwr, springing up to gingerly step about. “Have you pans of water for us to stand in for a moment? We've had to travel at night because of the black sands, but this morning was overcast. When the sun came out not long ago, it about cooked our feet.”
“Well,” said Spark as he clattered about, hunting for basins, “good job you and Laora found them, aye Edward?”
“Sulacha here, is their tracker,” said Laora, “and when he says they've never been here before, they probably really would've got lost without us...”
“Oh poop!” scoffed Abaddon, whereupon Lance grabbed him by the sleeve and shook his head.
“Well we managed to get to where they found us,” said Lance, “but they undoubtedly spared us days of random searching for signs of you all.”
“Make yourselves at home and unwind while we arrange things,” said Spark. “Flame. Help me scoot the board into the doorway so that the diatrymas can eat with us, since they always stay outside.”
“They've been inside,” said Abaddon.
“Only in the halls of Fairies,” said Arwr from his two basins, just outside.
“Yess, yesss, unwind,” said Shot 'n' Stop as he slithered out of Abaddon's bag.
Soon they were enjoying a grand meal with Spark and Lipperella and all their mob down the long board, laden with a half dozen steaming roast peccaries with agave stuffing, hot corn bread and prickly pear jam. Sulacha, Lance and Abaddon were delighted with the sumptuous bounty, though they did remain wary of the hog hair gravy, pickled peppered kangaroo rats, voles smothered in chocolate sauce and the cubed raw rabbit with hide and hair passing up and down the board.
When the small talk had died away, Spark parked his napkin by his plate. “So it's the witches that brings you, is it?” he said.
“Oilean Gairdin has fallen to the witches and the Marfora Siofra,” said Lance. “Abaddon and I fled with the Elves into the Wilderlands and are staying with Meri Greenwood in Gerddi Teg, north of the Deadmoors. Niarg may have fallen by now, but we don't yet know.”
At this, Edward quietly left the table and vanished. When Laroa found him in their room, he was pacing about in a very agitated state.
“Edward,” she said, quietly coming to his side. “You left at the beginning of the telling of the biggest tidings which have yet to come to the Black Desert. Are you all right?”
“I'm fine.”
“But you look upset...”
“I'm fine!”
“That doesn't sound at all like it. And you were so excited at first. You've told me how you missed Shot 'n' Stop. Besides, Prince Abaddon is your age. I thought you'd want to get acquainted. He's a prince and you're a prince...”
“What do I need him for when I have you? Besides, you didn't like the Fireheads, especially Trifin.”
“Yea? Well Abaddon isn't here to breed you, Edward.”
“Yuck!”
“See?” she said. “So what's your excuse?”
“All right,” he said, giving her a quick hug and sitting on the edge of the bed with a bounce. “Do you know who Prince Abaddon really is?”
“Sure. Just how he was introduced: the son of King James of Loxmere.”
“And, and son of Queen Spitemorta of Goll, the exact bad woman who killed Momma.”
“Oh,” she said, blinking a couple of times before scooting close and gently nibbling at the hair over his ear.
Chapter 160
/> Lladdwr and Meri ran pattering over the leaves with Ceidwad through the last of the birch trees, down the hill to the fast cold stream in the aspens, followed by Ocker and Urr-Urr overhead in the bright early afternoon sky. “That's delicious water,” said Lladdwr. “do you mind if we pause for a drink?”
“Thou art oonly axynge that sithence thou knowest how Ich long to seen Celeste,” said Meri, “but plese haven yit a drenk. Yit oon moste neden. Yit caryynge me atte a runne sithence sonne ryse han ben. Ich wol evene straughten and my jug to fille.”
“Look at all this,” said Ceidwad, nodding at the edge of the water. “It looks like a hoard of people and all their sheep crossed here. Even children. What do you suppose is going on?”
“Ocker?” said Meri as he held his leather bottle under the rushing water. “Thou determyned to holpyn hast yben. Kanst thou yonder for to fleen and seest thou what erthly sort of carnoval hath up in-to the wodes yonder ymaad hites way?”
“Why?” said Ocker, tossing back his head for a drink. “So you swyvers can talk about us while we're gone?”
“Fithel-stikkes, brid! Thise traas arne fresshe. Weo nede to knowe whoso bitwix heere and ther ybe.”
“I've still got Demonica's scrying marble,” he said, giving a few flaps over to where he had it parked beside his stick. He pecked at it here and there, rolling it about in the leaves. “Ha! There. Looks like half an entire town and a whole mess o' soldiers, all sitting about under the spruce trees.”
“Campid?”
“Not a tent nor burning fire to be seen...”
“Urr-Urr and thou an yhe out fro the aire kepe, whilom weo arounde hem ga,” he said. “Weo wante to out of sighte to remayn. Art thou and Ceidwad redy, Lladdwr? And whom am Ich to riden this tyme?”
“I can bear you the rest of the way,” said Lladdwr. “But first...”
“Yes,” said Ceidwad, giving herself a thorough shake. “We've been putting off telling you something...”
“Koude hit to wayten?” he said as he motioned for Lladdwr to let him mount.
“No,” said Ceidwad. “This may be nothing at all. And then again...” She paused under the rattling aspen leaves to sort through some feathers.
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 170
