Heart of the Staff - Complete Series

by Carol Marrs Phipps

  Schyt! Hit's still going to take forever and seven days for Talorg's men to find their way all the way out into the Black Desert and all the way back. Now hold on. Just stay right here. I'm going to go try something.” And with that, he hopped over to the place where he kept his stick and his scrying marble and chain, and pecked at his marble this way and that for a moment before working his head into the loop of gold chain and diving from the ledge to swoop all the long way down to the stone balustrade on the balcony of the keep.

  There was not a soul to be seen. He hopped the entire length of the balustrade until he stopped at the big stone ball at the far end, gave his head a few gawking tosses and hopped all the way back to his stick. He flew down to a small stone on the balcony, grabbed it up without landing and made a rushing flight for the door to the dining hall to let it go hurtling on through the air to whack the glass. He was hovering just outside with his stick when Talorg yanked open the door.

  “Bran-Hoodie!” cried Talorg. “What the stinking Clootie!”

  “Here!” awked Ocker, fanning Talorg's hair with his wings. “Take one end of the stick.”

  “What?”

  “The stick, damn hit! Grab onto your end and hold on!”

  Talorg knitted his brow and took hold. Suddenly they found themselves sprawled out across the burning black sand beyond Rose's garden. “Dang!” cried Talorg as he danced onto his feet and dashed for the shade of a scrub oak with Ocker flapping madly after. “You've gane and fetched me doon to the ill pairt after all, Bran-Hoodie.”

  Ocker landed in the branches just above him. “You mean the Pit?” he said as he pecked at his scrying marble where it dangled against his breast feathers.

  “You've been after my daith from the beginning...”

  “You want to see Edward, don't you?”

  “Edward? Why yea...”

  “Then shut up and follow me, ers hole.” And with that, Ocker dove from the oak and flew above the sand and sprawling melons, up long rows of cabbages and kale and along a meandering path that climbed uphill through a forest of agave and century plants to a stone bench in the shade.

  “Ocker?” cried Captain Bernard, as he and Edward sprang to their feet. “Is that you?”

  Laora hissed and craned to see who was pounding uphill between the plants.

  Suddenly everyone gasped at a naked man tattooed in blue from head to toe as he tramped to a wide-eyed halt.

  “And if you're not Edward himself,” said Talorg, “you must be my very own Donnel, turned into the man I never got to know. Tell me truly Bran-Hoodie, just where have ye got me to?”

  “Rose's garden,” said Ocker, settling onto the bench which everyone had just abandoned.” We're standing outside the Vaults of Niarg at the New Dragon Caves in the Black Desert. And this is the Edward you wanted for your succession, isn't he?”

  An odd look passed quickly across Talorg's face at the mention of Rose.

  “I am indeed Edward of Theranholm,” said Edward, already bowing.

  Bernard gave a disdainful thrust of his jaw at Talorg and folded his arms as he took a step back from the introductions, scarcely noticing the mention of his name. It had been a very long time, but he well remembered having to deal with the Beaks.

  “Now you've got Edward for your succession,” said Ocker. “That means you and your little blue meanies can clear out of Urr-Urr's mansion when we get back, right?”

  “Urr-Urr's mansion?” said Talorg. “Are you talking about my headquarters? You called it Razzorbauch's keep, last I knew. And who is Urr-Urr?”

  “My wife, hole,” said Ocker, standing upright at once and bristling at the neck.

  “She's only the highest ranking raven in the entire Chokewoods. She owns every single thing she sees from her nest, and that includes your temporary headquarters. Besides, you've yet to pay rent and she plainly objects to your nuisance cluttering up the foot of her bluff.”

  “We never negotiated any sort of rent,” said Talorg, planting his hands on his knees before Ocker.

  “Of course not, swyver. Not when you were going to clear out the moment you found Edward.”

  “Where did you get that idea?”

  “You want Edward for your succession, right?”

  “Not until I die,” he said, turning to Edward. “But I do indeed want him to be the one to succeed me. Spitemorta murdered his uncle Donnel and his aunt Tramae, so he's my only heir. Did ye know this, Edward?”

  “King Neron just returned with tidings of the fall of Bratin Brute and the death of my grandfather a whole score of years ago, but I knew naught of my uncle and aunt...”

  “And then Urr-Urr and I get to have peace and quiet?” said Ocker.

  “That has nothing to do with it, Bran-Hoodie. We're making raids on Spitemorta's lands from Urr-Urr's house and woods. Spitemorta hasn't found us yet and we have no other place to hide between raids. Perhaps we can make a deal to suit you, but I've sworn vengeance for my children and I made an oath to King Theran of Bratin Brute to see the confoon muckle witch dead.”

  For a moment, everyone fell silent, listening to the cicadas and to the droning wings of the hummingbirds hovering about the spikes of snow-white agave flowers.

  Laora quietly took Edward's hand.

  “So then Edward,” said Talorg, squatting in the sand before him, “How much time do you need to consider?”

  “I shall almost certainly accept. But it must be understood that I have obligations here for the time being. Laora and I are now in the queen's service under Captain Bernard, and we too have a commitment to see Spitemorta dead.”

  “Capital!” said Talorg, on his feet at once to begin pacing. “I swear I'd oblige Bran-Hoodie's wife and come here to join forces with you all to kill the witch if it weren't for the distance...”

  “Forgive my interrupting, Brude Talorg,” said Bernard as he took a seat beside Ocker. “Surely there would be substantial advantages if we were to join forces in spite of the distance...”

  “Agreed,” said Talorg. “But what would you suggest?”

  “I suggest an immediate audience with Queen Minuet to see what we can work out...”

  “I'm right ready.”

  “Ah Cuir,” said Bernard, turning aside at the sound of gravel. “You picked a perfect time. This is Brude Talorg, Ru of Marr. Could you please tell the queen that we would like an immediate audience?”

  “I certainly shall,” said Cuir with a bow for Talorg. “She's just inside having a word with Rose, as a matter of fact.”

  It wasn't long until Cuir reappeared in the mouth of the cave and waved them inside. “The Queen is on her way to the throne room. She expects to see you there directly.”

  “No-no,” said Bernard at the sight of Laora settling onto the bench with Edward.

  “Do come along. Both of you. This meeting may well need your presence.”

  Rose was still gathering up her things, the moment Cuir led everyone through.

  Talorg hesitated wide eyed at the sight of her in time for Bernard to turn back to see what had his attention.

  Talorg shook his head and caught up at once, though he quickly found himself taken by the wonders of the vaults, particularly the glow lichen, so that it took the party some time to reach the throne room.

  Minuet was sitting on her throne beside another coronary chair bearing Hebraun's crown on a cushion. She stood up at Cuir's announcement, taken aback at the sight of Talorg in spite of the tales of Beaks she had heard for years. But such flawless courtly manners wielded by a stark naked man, tattooed and smeared blue with woad from head to toe had her utterly speechless until she remembered to offer them chairs and tea. They were quickly immersed in a discussion about how Talorg came to be there, why he and the Beaks were quartered on Razzorbauch's manor and particularly about Talorg's oath to King Theran.

  “Can you be my guest for a few days, Brude Talorg?” said Minuet. “I believe these things have an urgent need to be discussed in full with Ri Neron, King James and Qu
een Mary and the dragons as well as with my father and the diatrymas before the Extended Council in the Circle.”

  “I would be right honored,” said Talorg.

  “What?” cried Ocker from the back of a chair. “I can't be here! That will pissen Urr-Urr right smart...”

  “Which would have some weight in the bargain we make, wouldn't it?” said Talorg.

  At the sound of wings, Minuet held out her arm for Hubba-Hubba.

  “Well if hit ain't Two-Head,” rattled Ocker, “here for his lessons on how to be a damned bird. Now I'll stay for that.”

  ***

  Far to the east in the growing darkness after sunset, four dragons bearing Herio, Sulacha, Olloo and Roseen winged their way above the waves of the last miles of the Orin Ocean before the coast of the Eastern Continent, called Yn Cheer My Hiar by the Gwaelic Elves.

  “Do I see land?” cried Flame, the dragon carrying Herio.

  “Without a doubt!” cried Olloo from the back of Cinder. “Sleityn Beayn, the Eternal Mountains. They lie immediately inland. With these clear skies, we ought to be able to camp for the night in the open on the beach.”

  As the stars began showing in earnest in the great vault of deepening blue, a glow beyond the mountains announced the rise of the full moon. “We'll have plenty of light,” called Roseen from the back of Cook, flying just abreast of Cinder. And just as they saw the shore, Mwg and Sulacha spotted twinkling campfires through the trees on the slopes of the mountains.

  “Trolls and no mistake!” cried Sulacha. “We'll be asking for it if we spend the night on the beach.”

  “Let's camp just above the tree line on the far side of Dreeym Feeacklagh,” cried Olloo. “I doubt that they'd go up that far on this side. They'd have to climb the sheer rock faces.”

  “What's Dreeym Fee...?” said Herio.

  “'Toothy Ridge' in the latest parlance out on the Strah,” said Olloo. “It used to be 'Droim Fiacail,' back in the Baile Gairdin days.”

  Soon they found themselves just beyond the top of the mountain, settling amongst the scattered blue maidenhair trees, casting their gnarled shadows across the tumble of rocks in the stark light of the rising moon.

  “Brrr!” said Herio, throwing his leg off Flame. “I can see everyone's breath. I was already for hit to be warm when we landed. Let's find the wood for a fire.”

  “It'll get colder yet, with it being a clear night,” said Olloo. “But you don't want a fire. It's mostly gentle slope on this side, and if there be any trolls over here, they'll come right on up to find out what the light's all about. Roseen and I have a spare blanket if you need.”

  “Thanks, but I'm all right,” said Herio. “I've got my camping quilt, and I'd been wondering why I was foolish enough to bring this wool blanket.” He sat down with a huff of frosty breath. There was not a bit of wind under the dome of stars. A shooting star streaked away through the thick of them and vanished. Flame finished sorting through his flight feathers, gave himself a thorough shake and a snort of resolution and got quiet. A few rocks away, Olloo and Roseen were murmuring about this and that. A wolf howled from somewhere not far enough away. As he was making sure that none of the hair was standing up on his arms, another one wailed much further away. He lay back to listen and went right to sleep.

  With a kick in the ankle, Herio sat up with a gasp. “How'd you make this without a fire?” he said as Sulacha handed him a cup of tea.

  “With us awake, I can't imagine how they'd jump us in our sleep,” said Sulacha.

  “Besides it's daylight and any Marfora Siofra on this side have bedded down for the day.”

  Soon they were aloft, gliding down the long mountainside just above the trees to fly out over the vast unbroken flatness of the Great Strah, trying not to look into the blinding morning sun. There was not one path that they could see in the grass below. It was going to be a very long way.

  “Ha!” cried Olloo, long after the sun was out of their eyes. “There's Creg Boayl Arrey, 'way, 'way yonder. Just a speck on the horizon. We used to call it Carraig Faire when we first came, a thousand year ago.”

  “I don't see it,” cried Herio.

  “You will. You can't miss an orange sandstone rock, 121 foot high by ninety yard long, rearing up out of a sea of grass.”

  By the time the sun was overhead, Creg Boayl Arrey was plain to see, looming just beyond a town of sod houses and barns nearly hidden by their broad thatched rooves, with squealing children running through the streets, scattering chickens and pointing up at the people on dragons as they flew on to the top of the rock to land by the guard house.

  “Olloo?” cried the wide-eyed sentry as he dashed outside.

  “Yes indeed,” said Olloo, staying astride Cinder. “You might spread the word not to be alarmed. It's just Roseen and me.”

  “Yes sir!” said the sentry. And with that he turned and ran for the way down off the rock.

  “Queen Vorona's house is that biggest one down there,” said Olloo. “Let's go.”

  The dragons dove from the Creg to glide down in a great sweeping circle to land by the great statuary and fountain in Vorona's garden. They were so captivated by the lifelike sculpture of one of their own kind that they scarcely noticed their passengers struggling to dismount. Cicadas were calling from every tree in the garden.

  There was a scuff of gravel from just behind them as Vorona appeared, leaning on her hoe. “Shoo with the lot o' you!” she said from under her dowager's hump and sun- bonnet. “This isn't some limestone decoy. I ain't hunting dragons.” She stopped short with a gasp. “Oh my soul and body! It's my dear kids come home.” She dropped her hoe at once and grabbed Roseen and Olloo into a watery eyed hug. She straightened up to have a look at them. “What ever brought you ones home? Must be something terrible.”

  “Well we hope it's not,” said Olloo. “But it is urgent. Could you send for Tramman and Karl-Veur?”

  “Gray-see?” she hollered, the second syllable almost falsetto. “Come out here and see to something for me, right quick!”

  A door slammed behind the cascades of wisteria vines hanging from the roof.

  Here came heavy old Grayse. “Everything all right?” she called as she stepped into sight.

  “I want you to send for Tramman and Karl-Veur, right now,” cried Vorona.

  Grayse went right back into the dangling wisteria, and at once there were introductions all 'round.

  “Well now,” said Vorona. “I have a terrible lot of ripe woawatah mellions, big whoppahs, and mush mellions, mush mellions, just a-goin' to waste while we're a- standing here. Help me get at least a half dozen of them to the table in the shade yonder, and I'll have Grayse fetch a knife when she brings out the tea.”

  “Now who is the stone carving, Your Majesty?” said Mwg as he thumped at a nice big melon and picked it up.

  “We all know I'm queen without ye having to remind me,” she said. “Call me Vorona. And the figure pouring water at the fountain was my friend Karr-Nij. It was he who found the limestone for me. And he was the one who got me started with my husband's chisels. And he knew what he was a-doing, because he was the apprentice of a dragon sculptor by the name of An Daouarn...”

  “An Daouarn!” said Mwg. “I remember him. I was little but he was the one who made a statuary of all the dragons being driven out of the Mammvro by Razzorbauch,” which had all of the dragons talking at once as Vorona offered them places to sit around the table under the great garden willow.

  “Grayse's not out here yet,” said Vorona.

  “I've got my knife,” said Cook, pulling aside her feathers to show her stag handled dirk.

  “I'd feel better waiting on Karl-Veur and Tramman,” said Vorona. A breeze came and went, stirring the leaves. A warbling vireo added its calls to the cicadas. “Now Sulacha? If you ones is the Sulacha I used to know (and you do look like him), how come you're so confounded young?”

  “The one you knew was my father.”

  “And how's he, after all this
time?”

  “He died in the Great Troll Raid at Oilean Gairdin.”

  “I'm so very sorry.”

  “That was some time ago.”

  After a time, Grayse stepped out through the wisteria with a huge tray, following Tramman, Inney, Karl-Veur and Yuna. She set down the tray and threw up her hands.

  “Ye know if I had a mind, I could've brought out a blooming butcher knife,” she said. “I'll be right back...”

  “No need,” said Vorona. “Cookie here's got hers.”

  Cook stood up at once with her dirk.

  “Now make sure you cut a piece of each kind for everyone, honey.”

  Tramman looked up from his melon to catch Olloo's speculative glance at Inney.

  “She's in on everything that comes along,” he said with a nod at her. “So what's going on?”

  “Well,” said Olloo, “the twins have only a few short months of training left before they're ready. We'll have to use every single hour between now and then to have everyone ready to pounce on her forces on each continent at the very moment that the twins go for her throat...”

  “Which means that Armee Shawkeyrys has to have a way of taking out what was once the Army of Gwael,” said Tramman as Inney looked up from her melon rind.

  “We've been making a point of staying clean away from them, all these live-long years.”

  Olloo nodded with his sigh of resignation. “I'm guessing that we will find them weakened, possibly a good deal, now that Spitemorta's been in charge. And Margey Eeast,” he said, looking around at everyone. “I trust that we're keeping up a good fish trade with vessels coming into Camys Margey Eeast, aye?”

  “At least as good as when you left,” said Tramman. “Why?”

  “We need to hire enough ships to sail nearly five thousand soldiers and a thousand unicorn from the west coast, all the way around to the east coast of the Northern Continent,” he said, running his finger through the watermelon juice on the table top.

  “They were talking about needing twenty ships when we left. But the trick is going to be not only hiring them, but having them underway for the far western Sea of Teeth without anyone finding out what they're for.” He looked up. “You wouldn't know anybody right off hand, would ye?”