Heart of the Staff - Complete Series

by Carol Marrs Phipps

  Edward hopped off with his bow and came to a running halt, startling three sunning turtles who slid off the nearby log into the river.

  “Ha!” she cried, giving herself a feathery shake. “Just as I thought. You don't even have your bow strung. And just where's your saw? I'd never be able to fly out with you and any more than a side at a time, big as he was.”

  Edward gave a shrug and looked away.

  “There is something wrong,” she said, keeping her eye on him as she sorted through her feathers. “You woke up this way. And you've been this way ever since we moved out. It is Lily, isn't it?”

  “No!”

  “Come on Edward. This is eating you up. You can tell me. I'm not just your best friend, I have loved you for years and years. I always have...”

  “And I love you...”

  “Then tell me.”

  “That's just it, Laora,” he said, turning about to face her. “I love you more than anything, but...”

  “It is about Lily, isn't it? Well?”

  “All right,” he said, suddenly giving way and sitting in the sand, “it is about Lily.

  Laora, I will always, always love you more than anything. But I found myself wanting to look at her all the time. And it made me feel horrible, as if I were being unfaithful to you.

  I hate feelings like that. That's why we had to move out. I never want anything to happen to us. I couldn't stand losing you.”

  “So? If you want children, just breed her and be done with it. I know we can't do that, but we have everything else. So you and I live together forever, and every once in a while, you just go breed her...”

  “That's awful!” he cried, springing to his feet to pace about, flinging his arms.

  “Lily and I are humans. Everybody would suddenly hate everybody else. I mean Fuzz would hate me and Rose would hate me, for one thing. And they would almost certainly blame each other for my awful behavior, or for Lily's. And everybody would really hate Lily...”

  “I wouldn't hate you,” she said, giving herself a pious shake as she started in on the feathers of her other wing.

  “Oh yes you would. You wouldn't want me, I mean, you really wouldn't want me to go off and... You just can't do that to people you love.”

  “Well don't worry. I'll never do anything like that to you.”

  “See? You practically hate me already.”

  “Fiddlesticks! I'd never hate you. But even if you get this worked up over yourself, just remember that you'll never, ever have to worry about me. I'll never, ever go off and breed anybody. Ever. You can count on it.”

  “Well there's actually not even a possibility of problems with Lily, either.”

  “Really?”

  “I went back home to get some things and she told me that she was interested in Uncle Herio, so that's that.”

  “That won't last.”

  “Why? He's older and everything.”

  “Older is right. He's what? Old enough to be her daddy? Herio just might break out laughing when he finds out. I mean, surely he doesn't know yet, so if you let her know, she might even return your feelings.”

  “I don't get you at all, Laora. And you're sure you'll never mate with anybody?”

  “Never ever. I'll always be yours.”

  “But we can't...”

  “I know.”

  They sat together on the sand without a word for a very long time, listening to the breeze in the willows as they tossed pebbles into the gurgling current. “I'm sorry I wasn't ready for the deer,” he said, looking up at the sky.

  “String your bow,” she said as she stood up and shook herself. “If we get a deer soon enough, we could cut off some meat in time to share with company for supper.”

  “Company? Who?”

  “I was thinking about Eflamm. He shared that elk with us.”

  “Right. Our elk, which he swooped in and stole. How generous.”

  “Come on Edward. He explained that. He never even saw us until we were contesting his right to it. He simply happened to be chasing the same animal and got it before we did.”

  “So he says. Well if he makes you feel obligated, then just fly to the fire heads and invite him.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yea. Except I'm kind of confused when you just told me you'd never look for a mate.”

  “I'm not.”

  “Well you seem awfully anxious for a reason to see Eflamm again. That reminds me of having to steal looks at Lily.”

  “I am not! Don't worry then. We'll eat it all ourselves. In fact, I'm not hungry.

  Let's just fly straight home.”

  ***

  Not being let out of the cave by the great silvery blue eyed howlie was startling enough for Herio and Philpott, but being held captive by the giants for well over a week was an ordeal. At first it was just the pair whose tracks they had followed, who squatted outside in the pouring rain, keeping them from running away, but in the moonlight of the following nights, they heard eerie howls echoing away over the rocky countryside, and each morning they would see giants which they had not seen before, milling about or squatted on the rocks, just outside.

  This morning, when Herio awoke to the calls of a sunset thrasher, he realized that they were awfully close to the mouth of cave and sat up at once. When he saw that no big creature was sitting just outside, he sprang to his feet and peered out to find the biggest collection of howlies he had yet seen. “Damn!” he muttered quietly as he began counting.

  “How many this time?” said Philpott, sitting up on his pallet.

  “I'm not sure whether I see fifteen or sixteen. One of them is half grown and three or four of them are carrying babies. I'm not counting the babies.”

  “Any sign of the unicorns?”

  Herio stepped back inside, shaking his head as he squatted to pick up his leather water bottle before flinging it aside.

  “After eight days, I'm surprised you even picked it up.”

  “Yea? Well after eight days, I don't see how a fellow could keep from it.”

  “So how far away from the cave are they?” said Philpott. “Any chance that we could make a run for it?”

  “They'd get us. There are just too many, and they've got us blocked every direction you want to look. Besides, this is pretty open country, even with all of the rocks.

  We'd have to know our unicorns were waiting for us or they'd just run us down. They've probably eaten them by now, anyway.”

  “I doubt it, truth to tell,” said Philpott, picking up the bottle for a look of his own.

  “I mean, if they were going to eat them, don't you reckon they'd just sit out there where they could keep an eye on us and champ away?”

  “All right. So why did they bother to run off our unicorns, and why are they keeping us here in the first place?”

  “To teach us a lesson, maybe. They've already made it clear as a bell that they don't want us grazing that pasture.”

  “You reckon they're actually enough like us to try teaching us by holding us captive?”

  “They just might be, Herio. I swear that they spend as much time shaking their hands at each other as people do a-talking. They just might have something in mind for us.”

  “Starvation, I'd say. Do you have any idea about what they're saying with their hands?”

  “You can go a good while without victuals. Forty days or better. But they're going to have to let us drink. It won't take too many days to kill us. And no, I don't understand a bit of it. I notice when they repeat some things, but I don't understand any of it. However, we understood their drawings 'way back at the sheep shed. What are you doing?”

  “Smoothing out a place to draw a picture.”

  “Very well...”

  Herio waited until one of the giants looked their way and waved his arms. “Hey!” he hollered.

  The giant shook his fist.

  “That doesn't look good at all,” said Philpott. “You might want to try something else.”

  �
��This ought to do it,” said Herio, picking up a rock.

  “Whoa! I wouldn't risk a lesson in manners from one of those curses. They might not like our talking with rocks. Why not do it their way? If they're too far away for pictures and fingers, they howl, don't they?”

  Herio put down his rock and thought about it for a moment. Suddenly cupped his hands to the sides of his mouth, drew a great breath and bellowed out a tenor version of the howlies' moonlit night wail. It sounded much more like a wolf than a howlie, but by the time he had put down his hands, all sixteen giants had converged on him, huffing and stinking of sulphury musk. “Aah!” he said, patting his stomach and pointing into his mouth as he made gulping noises. But before he could drop to his knees with his stick to draw, they had Philpott and him by the arms, ushering them down the hillside at a jog, hiking them up and over rocks as if they were toddlers. And a long way it was, too, stumbling to keep up with their great hairy-legged strides.

  Far down the slope was a wooded ravine. When they came to the bank of a fast stream, the howlies let go of them at the water's edge, where they fell to their hands and knees at once and drank. The moment Herio sat up on his haunches and wiped his mouth on his arm, the blue eyed howlie threw down their water bottles with a grunt. “Philpott, look!” said Herio. “I'd never dream that old Blue Eye would know what those are for.”

  “Yea,” said Philpott. “Makes ye wonder what else they've figured out.”

  “I hope they figure out that we're hungry.”

  “Well you're good at this. Tell them.”

  Blue eye squatted behind Herio and studied him.

  “Well Blue Eye,” said Herio as he carefully turned about to face the giant. “I wish I knew how to thank you for the water, but maybe I can show you that we're hungry.” He gave a moan and rubbed his belly.

  “Hmmmp,” rumbled Blue Eye as he waddled closer to look him up and down.

  “Mmm!” said Herio as he pantomimed grabbing up something and chewing on it with lots of exaggerated champing.

  Blue Eye knitted his brow and sat back on his rump as he thought this over.

  “Hmmmp,” he rumbled as he picked his nose and resumed looking Herio over with studious consideration.

  Herio rubbed his belly again and champed his teeth.

  Suddenly, Blue Eye was on his feet, jostling a couple of other howlies and making signs with his hands.

  “Did you see that?” said Philpott with a nod at the howlies as he bunged his water bag.

  “What?” said Herio as he watched Blue Eye and the other giants wade into the water.

  “Oh never mind.”

  The howlies waded slowly about in the water for some time, pausing here and there to grab at things along the bottom. By now, Herio and Philpott and all of the howlies not fishing were sitting on the bank, watching Blue Eye and listening to a water thrush singing in the willows. A grebe surfaced just beyond the bank, saw that it had an audience and ducked back under water.

  “He was!” said Philpott, the moment he saw for certain that the howlies were fishing. “I'd have sworn Blue Eye was making hand signs for 'fish' before they waded in.

  They just got one. That is what they're doing.”

  Presently Blue Eye stepped out of the water with a wriggling catfish in each hand, giving one to Herio and the other one to Philpott. They were trying to figure out how to show that they were properly pleased when the other two howlies climbed out and shared a fish with Blue Eye. The howlies each bit the heads of their respective fish to kill them, and then wolfed down hungry bites, watching to see how Herio and Philpott liked theirs.

  “You said you were hungry,” said Philpott, “but are you ready for raw fish, innards and all?”

  “I've got my flint and striker,” said Herio. “What do you reckon they'll do if I try to use them?”

  “Try it.”

  Herio handed his fish to Philpott and scraped up a little pile of dry cottonwood leaves, crumbled up some of them and began striking his flint. At once all sixteen howlies crowded in close to watch every single move he made. He blew a faint stream of his breath where his sparks were landing.

  Suddenly the howlies gasped and backed away wide eyed at the first curl of smoke. Herio kept striking and huffing as they crept back close to see. Directly he was feeding twigs into the first wee flame. Philpot took his knife and cleaned the fish. He paused at the sight of a female with a toddler on her hip, eyeing where the fish head and entrails had just dropped into the leaves. When he held them out to her, she snatched them away at once, shared them with her child and hunkered back to the fire, licking her fingers. Herio impaled the first fish and held it into the flames. Blue Eye waddled in close, craning to behold in wonder the fish in the flames and then Herio's face, then his hands and then the sizzling fish again.

  “Mmm!” said Herio, sampling the fish. He held out a pinch of it to Blue Eye.

  Blue Eye gaped in awe and put the fish into his mouth for a thoughtful moment.

  “Vooove!” he boomed. “Oooooh!”

  Herio and Philpott had no sooner divvied out all their catfish than they found themselves being plied with more wriggling fish. After an unexpectedly long meal, Herio and Philpott caught each other's eye, rose without a word and made their way back to their cave with all sixteen howlies following reverently on their heels.

  Chapter 186

  The howlies certainly loved their breakfast of roasted fish. After they followed Herio and Philpott back to the cave, they sat crowded around the entrance, staring inside as if the pair of them were about to hatch. The prospects of escaping looked more dismal than ever. And it was most difficult to fall asleep that night in the heavy closeness of the musky reek with all of those eyes watching them.

  They were awakened not long before daylight by being hauled to their feet and marched to the river, where they found several of the giants already up to their waists in the water, grabbing at catfish. Blue Eye even found their water bags and followed. This time breakfast lasted into the early afternoon, since the fish were harder to catch and five more howlies had appeared.

  The next morning, Herio was awakened by a busy commotion outside to find the giants on their haunches, patiently peering in at him with wriggling fish in their fists.

  “Philpott,” he said. “Do you see what's out here?”

  Philpott rolled off his dusty pallet onto his knees. “Say,” he said, giving his greasy head a good scratch, “we've got that little box of lard which we were starting to get hungry enough to nibble at. I've got it and my skillet.” He began finding stones to set it on over the flames of a fire as Blue Eye waddled over with a fish in each hand to look him up and down with the silvery rings of his eyes. As he set to the task of making the fire, Herio began cutting up the fish. When the first piece went into the sizzling fat, a chorus of gasps broke out and the howlies crowded in to see. This breakfast lasted until evening, with the giants traipsing back and forth to the river all day.

  “Damn!” said Herio as he lay down on his pallet after dark. “What are we going to do tomorrow? Aren't we running out of lard?”

  “Yeap,” said Philpott.

  Herio might have heard, but he was already snoring.

  Herio jerked wide awake in the first broad light of day to the hearty medley of calls from a sunset thrasher in the gnarled twist of scrub oak, growing out of the rocks at the mouth of the cave. He was on his knees at once. “That mockingbird wouldn't be there with a crowd of howlies,” he said, getting to his feet. “Philpott! I don't see a single giant out here.”

  “Hey!” cried Philpott as he stepped outside. “Where the ding-dong blazes is my skillet? And my lard box. Those stinkers are thieves!”

  “No time,” said Herio.

  “No there's not,” said Philpott. And with that, they grabbed up their things and were out in the chilly mountain air at once, jogging as they buttoned and tied their clothes.

  It was a long way down the length of the mountain ridge without the unicorns.
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  Even so, they found themselves covering ground nearly as quickly as they had managed while mounted, following the howlie tracks uphill. By sunset, they reached the upper end of the great meadow above the dry wash where they had found signs in the sand made by the giants, the morning they set out. A mountain burrowing owl rasped and cackled from the rocks of the divide as they made their way out into the thin dry grass under the vault of deepening blue sky.

  “Well we certainly had our adventure,” said Philpott, walking backward for a step or two. “And we ended up with one of the wildest tales we'll ever have to tell, but we might not even have found out where they live, let alone doing anything to discourage them. We didn't change a thing. They'll just keep getting into our sheep.”

  “Oh yes we did,” said Herio.

  “My word, what?”

  “And it's mainly what you did.”

  “I'd like to know what that was.”

  “Next time they come for a sheep, they'll bring a skillet.”

  “I can see that I've talked to you longer than any sane fellow would've.”

  “That's it!” said Hero, stopping short and setting down his panniers. “We can butcher hit for them...” He squatted to stretch his back.

  “I knew it was too late when you commenced to howling like one of them.”

  “No, wait,” said Herio. “Look 'ee here. Weren't we starting to talk and trade? Really. I mean, we told them we were thirsty and they took us to water. We said we were hungry and they gave us fish. Then we cooked the fish and they let us go. Right?”

  “Yea. For my bloomin' skillet.”

  “Let's say that we want to graze this pasture for a week,” he said, standing up with his bags and starting to walk again. “We pay them a sheep first.”

  “What?”

  “We take a wether up there...”

  “You mean right back up to that stinking hole in the rocks?”

  “Yea. We take a sheep up there and butcher and cook hit for them, and tell them hit's for a week's worth of pasture. They'd love it.”

  “I'll bet,” said Philpott with a wide-eyed nod. “And how in the ever loving blue eyed world are you going to get the notion of a week's worth of future grazing across to those wooly bellied wizards?”