Duke Grandfather- The Whole Story

by James Maxstadt

  “Ah, Mr. Grandfather,” a voice called. “Please enter. That’s right, all the way please.”

  The speaker was an older witch, but far from a crone. She was up there in years, but carried herself with a stiffness and formality normally only seen in the Palace Guards, and even then, she could have given them lessons. She had proud, patrician features, and would more accurately be called striking rather than beautiful. Her pointed hat and black garb marked her as a traditional witch, like Camelia, but she made it look like a uniform with a long and storied past behind it.

  “Mr. Grandfather,” she intoned. “You have been summoned to the Witches Council by the request of the accused, to stand as champion for her. Do you agree to this?”

  I had no idea what was going on, but it must be something to do with Camelia and that damn broom. I thought it was time to make that clear.

  “I have no idea what’s going on here,” I said.

  The head witch, or whatever she was called, drew herself up, and proclaimed in a stern and commanding voice, “Camelia Rosenblatt has been accused of tampering with the natural order of the universe, by altering Council approved spells. To wit: she endowed her broom with more than the accepted level of ability, thus endangering herself, the community at large and the good name of every witch in this city. She has been duly accused, and requests that you stand as her champion to determine her guilt or innocence. Do you agree?”

  I looked around, still not sure exactly what she was talking about. While I understood about the broom well enough, what was she talking about regarding being a champion?

  Then I saw Camelia. She was seated off to the side, in a lone chair. Her hat was laid on the floor beside her and her head was hung in shame, hair hanging down past her face. She glanced up at me, and I could see tears making wet tracks down her cheeks. I already made up my mind to not agree to this, whatever it was, and steer clear of witches from then on. But there was such a look of hopelessness on her face that I didn’t have it in me.

  “Alright,” I sighed. “Even though I still don’t know what’s going on here.”

  “Excellent! Then you will compete, Mr. Grandfather,” the head witch said. “You will vie against the representative of this court.”

  I looked about, expecting to see a witch step forward that I would have to fight, or race, or beat at riddles, or something. Instead, a figure stood up from the corner and came forward.

  It was no wonder that I missed him sitting there, dressed all in black as so many of the witches were. Still, I should have noticed the hooded cloak. Who leaves their hood up inside?

  “Raven,” I snarled.

  “Duke,” he sneered back. “I’d say may the best man win, but we already know that would be me.”

  The rules were simple and explained to us both as we stood in front of the head witch. Apparently, Camelia’s broom stayed with her for a few hours, but then broke out and escaped into the city again. Raven and I were both to try to find it, recover it, and bring it back here. If I did, she was innocent, if Raven did, guilty. If neither did within the allotted time of six hours, then Camelia was guilty by default, so Raven had the advantage.

  “I don’t understand something,” I said, after the rules were explained. “How do you think that one of us recovering the broom proves guilt or innocence?”

  The head witch spoke up again. She was one of those people who made everything sound like a lecture, or a public servant announcement.

  “The universe will aid the one who is destined to win. In this case, perhaps Mistress Moonflower would be better able to explain.”

  She indicated a middle aged, stout witch, dressed in a pale green, flowing dress, with flowers woven into her shoulder length brown hair. Mistress Moonflower stood.

  “Thank you, Exalted One,” she began. “The Earth Mother sends her energy out into the world, to touch each of us in our secret places. Through that connection, she can sense the right and wrong, the good and the evil, the divine and the profane in any and all of us. She can guide us to ecstasy, or lead us to torment, according to our worth. In cases where one of her loyal daughters is in need, she will guide a chosen champion to success, or failure, as is warranted. Thus, she will guide you as well.”

  Done, and serene in her faith, she sat down, and the “Exalted One”, took over again.

  “Now. The time for idle chatter is past. The accused’s creation could be wreaking havoc as we speak. Go now, and show us the truth.”

  With that, I glanced at Raven, spun and ran for the door. I reached it slightly ahead of him, and rushed through, with him on my heels. Once outside, I stopped and looked around, orienting myself to Camelia’s house from here. I picked up the broom’s trail there before, and there was no reason to think that the streets were any cleaner now. I should be able to pick it up that same way.

  Raven must have had another thought in mind. Without a word to me, he sped away, and the last I saw of him, he was making his way up the side of a building. He was obviously going to look for the broom from the rooftops, which wasn’t a bad idea. You could cover a lot of ground that way.

  On the run to Camelia’s house, I realized that my main motivation now wasn’t so much to prove Camelia’s innocence, since I wasn’t really sure that she was, but to beat Raven. That guy rubbed me the wrong way, and I really wanted to lord this over him.

  I made it in record time, skidded to a halt and looked around. There was a clear trail again, like yesterday, only this time it was leading off in another direction. Smiling at my own cleverness, I followed it, and sure enough, came upon the broom shortly after. It did flash through my mind briefly that if I could find it so easily, why couldn’t Camelia, or one of the other witches? Well, they weren’t trained professionals, so they probably hadn’t even thought to look for a trail.

  Raven, on the other hand, was a trained professional. I no sooner saw the broom moving along ahead of me then he jumped down from a rooftop right next to it. With a cry of triumph, he reached out and grabbed it, which I could have told him was a bad idea. I wouldn’t have, but I could have.

  To my great amusement, the broom went crazy. It spun in his grip and those wooden fists started to fly. Raven grabbed it with both hands, so before he could even pull one of them away to defend himself, he was struck several times in the ribs, the face, and I’m not sure, but judging by the reaction, at least once below the belt. That one made him let go and bend over with a whoosh of air, which is when the broom literally swept him off his feet. It crashed into him, the rushes at the bottom tangling around him. Raven wheeled his arms, trying to maintain his balance, but it was no use. With a resounding thump, he crashed to the ground.

  The broom moved back, circled him, and proceeded to quickly sweep a great pile of dust, debris and some horse apples directly onto Raven. Satisfied with that, it moved down the street, cleaning as it went.

  I could hardly move closer, as it’s hard to walk when you’re doubled over with laughter. I had been on the receiving end of those wooden fists, so I knew they stung, but it was so much funnier when it happened to Raven. Plus, the final insult was priceless.

  After a moment, I could straighten up and I ran past Raven in pursuit of the broom.

  “You can do it, Raven,” I said, as I passed him. “Dust yourself off!”

  I couldn’t hear his reply due to my own laughing, but I got the general impression from the tone. Such language some people use.

  The broom was ahead of me, sweeping away, and stopping every now and then to chase an errant mouse or rat. I caught up with it, and tried the same tactic I used before. I slowed down so that I was walking along next to it and said, “Poor Camelia. I don’t know that I’ve seen a girl cry so hard.”

  No luck. If it was possible to be ignored by a broom, then that broom did a great job of it. It never deviated from its path, still heading for whatever destination it had in whatever passed for its mind.

  “I wonder how much trouble she’ll be in with the Council,”
I mused, trying again.

  Still nothing. Apparently, the sympathy angle wasn’t going to work this time. I was, momentarily, at a loss.

  “Nice play, Grandfather,” a voice sneered from behind me.

  I turned to see Raven following along. I was a little unnerved by the fact that I never heard him approach. But the sight of that impeccable black outfit covered in grime mollified me somewhat.

  “Shut up, Raven,” I said. I always was a master of artful comebacks. “Why are you involved in this anyway?”

  “To beat you, of course. When the old bat doing all the talking back there came to the watchhouse, I happened to be there, picking out my next target. I didn’t see anything quite worthy of my talents, but then I overheard her talking to Sarge, saying that she was looking for someone qualified to retrieve something quickly. She looked as if she could afford me, so I offered my services.”

  “Always after the money, huh? Why am I not surprised?”

  “Well, I will admit that’s usually the case, but it was so much sweeter when I learned that I would be going up against you. They call it a contest, but we both know it really won’t be. I’ve already won, Grandfather. You just don’t know it yet.”

  I made a face at that, which Raven returned and suddenly sprinted to get ahead of me. As he did so, he reached into his cloak and pulled something out. When he neared the broom, he threw what looked like a small ball at it.

  In mid-air, the ball started to expand, opening up into a circular net. It spun through the air and landed neatly over the top of the broom. It appeared to do the trick. The broom stopped suddenly, caught neatly in the net, the handle poking through, but the arms and below caught tight. Raven yelled some nonsense word and the net started to constrict, so that it tightened around the broom, pinning its arms to its sides and wrapping tightly around the rushes at the bottom.

  The broom didn’t move, although it did stay upright.

  “As I said, Grandfather. I’ve already won.”

  He sauntered toward the broom, taking his time and secure in his victory. I was pretty sure that he did just win too, and for a moment, I actually did feel bad for Camelia, but I was more aggravated that I let someone like Raven get the better of me.

  We both underestimated the power of a witch’s broom however. When you think about a witch and her broom, you really don’t think of it cleaning or being used to clear cobwebs, or anything of that nature. No, what you usually think of is the witch flying on that broom. If I thought about it, I would have wondered if the magic was in the broom, or in the witch. It was in the broom, as Raven was to find out.

  He walked to the broom with a final sneer at me and grabbed the net. Since it was only a broom, I’m sure he intended on lifting it and simply carrying it back, helplessly bound, to the Kettle, and claim his victory. The broom had a totally different idea.

  As soon as Raven grabbed hold of the net, the broom took off, straight up into the air. There was a startled yelp, and then a full-blown scream from Raven. It happened so fast that there was no time for him to let go, and he was now too far up to without major harm.

  I wanted to laugh, but instead I stood there, staring, as the broom shot around in the air, Raven dangling behind and holding on for dear life. This was something that you didn’t see every day. After unsuccessfully trying to shake him free, the broom relented and flew lower to the ground. Raven yelled another nonsense word and the net loosened, and slipped off the broom.

  With a crash, he fell to the street and lay there groaning. The broom swooped over him again, in what looked an awful lot like a gloating manner, and took off into the air, and out of sight.

  So far, this whole thing took us less than an hour. I had five hours left to find the broom and bring it back, but right then, I had no idea how to do that.

  A short while later, I was doing one of the most unimaginable things I could have thought of. I sat in a tavern, the Inn Spot, across the table from Raven, who was nursing his bruises and drinking an ale.

  “Look,” I said, “thanks to your little net stunt, I have no idea how to follow that broom now. Do you?”

  He glared at me for a moment, and took a sip of his ale.

  “No. I…no.”

  “Right. At this moment, neither one of us stands a chance of winning. I don’t really want to know what happens when we return to that Witches Council and tell them we failed, do you?”

  “No, I can’t say that I do. What are you getting at?”

  “I think, for now, and only for now mind you, we should team up. Combine our resources and locate the thing. After that, we can go back to trying to win.”

  Raven considered this.

  “Perhaps,” he finally said. “But once we have it in sight again, our partnership is over, and I will take the prize.”

  “Because you’ve done such a bang-up job so far. But sure, at that point, it’s every man for himself. Until then though…how do we find it?”

  “I have no idea,” he sighed.

  “Drink up. I might have something.”

  We finished our drinks, paid separately for them, and left the tavern. I led the way to the watchhouse, and for the first time ever had the pleasure of seeing shock on Sarge’s face.

  “Hey, Sarge,” I said, as I came in.

  “Duke,” he replied, still staring, “and Raven? What happened? Both of you get beat up by a cleaning utensil? And gods, Raven! You smell like horse shit.”

  I smiled at that, but decided that I should get on to business before Sarge turned his eye to me. The man could cut you down with a word when he wished.

  “We need to see Gulston, Sarge.”

  Sarge looked surprised all over again. People didn’t ask to see wizards, unless of course they happened to be dating one of them.

  “Really? Lilly know you’re two-timing her?”

  “Cute,” I said. “Come on, we need help. Is he around?”

  “Yeah, he’s up there. Go ahead. But don’t blame me if he turns you into a frog. You both still after that stupid broom?”

  Both Raven and I looked at him, and he burst out laughing.

  “That’s what you get for messing around with witches,” he said, and still chuckling, he turned back to his newssheet.

  I took Raven through the door behind the desk and up the stairs at the end of the hall. I was only here once before, when Gulston sent me back in time. But since that hadn’t happened for him, only me, I didn’t expect him to remember me. That whole thing was still very confusing.

  He was in his lab, working away at something involving a lot of bubbling liquids and smelly powders.

  “Hello,” I said, entering the room and being careful not to touch anything. For all his bluster, Raven did the same I noticed. “Mr. Gulston, my name is Duke Grandfather, and I’m a friend of Lilly’s. I was wondering if we could talk to you?”

  “A moment,” he said, and there was a huge bang and flash, and smoke filled the room. There was a lot of coughing and gasping, and the squeal of a window being forced open to let the smoke clear.

  “Well,” Gulston said, “that didn’t quite work as planned. Still, we learn from our failures as well as our successes, now don’t we?”

  “Here that, Grandfather?” Raven said. “You should be the smartest man in the world by now.”

  I ignored the remark. Gulston smiled at both of us, and moved closer.

  “Now,” he said, “what can I do for a friend of our Lilly? She’s a delight, isn’t she? Always so courteous and respectful.”

  “She is,” I said, and meant it. “But we’re actually here hoping that you can help us locate something. Something that keeps moving around.”

  He frowned at that.

  “Not really my area of expertise. I’m more of a theoretical wizard, really. What exactly is it that you need to find?”

  “A rogue witches broom,” Raven said. “It’s gotten away from its witch and is loose in the city. We’ve been tasked with finding it, and bringing it back to the
Witches Council.”

  Gulston pursed his lips.

  “I see,” he said, looking about the room. “Well, that is certainly serious. We can’t have enchanted items wandering around the city. Bad for business all around. Perhaps….no, that won’t work. Let me think…Ah! Here we go!”

  He took a small, crystal globe off a shelf and waved his hands over it.

  “Now,” he said, “do you have any piece of the broom with you, by chance?”

  I started to say no, but stopped and looked Raven over.

  “What are you looking at?” he snarled.

  I pointed. In some of the filth from his first encounter with the broom was a small piece of a rush. Raven made a disgusted face, then gingerly reached down and pulled it free. He handed it to Gulston, who took it without reservation, not seeming to notice what it had been stuck in.

  “Very good,” he said. “Now, let’s see…”

  He took the rush to a bench top, held it over a bowl and it burst into flame. He let it burn until it was nothing but ash, then poured a blue liquid of some type over it. Picking up a metal rod, he stirred it, and dropped the crystal orb in. He muttered some sort of incantation over it, stirring the whole time. When he was done, he lifted the orb out of the liquid and casually tossed it to me.

  I caught it, looked, and there in the crystal, was an image of the broom.

  “Thank you! I knew we came to the right place!”

  “You’re most welcome,” he said, “and please tell that dear Lilly that I send my regards, and that she really must come visit more.”

  I told him I would do so, and Raven and I hurried from the room. I thought I heard a strange noise, like stifled laughter, but when I glanced back, Gulston serenely lifted his hand in farewell. I must have been imagining things.

  When we got back to the street, after suffering a couple of more comments from Sarge, we looked into the globe. The broom was back on the ground, busily doing its work. I couldn’t quite tell where it was, and kept watching, hoping that it would pass by a landmark that would give me a clue.

  “Aha!” Raven suddenly exclaimed, and without a word to me, took off running.