“Why's that? I thought you didn't care who found the Fairies.”
“Well I don't, I suppose,” he said as he turned away from the wind rushing up the rock face. “But he said Celeste was his whole life, don't you know. And I know how that is. I can't even think about what it would be like to lose you, Urr-Urr.” He hopped onto the nest, and with a delicate peck at each of the eggs, he settled onto them for his turn.
Urr-Urr sat right beside him and they held each others beaks for a very long time.
Chapter 10
“I hate you!” cried Ugleeuh as she tramped the length of the great hall of Razzorbauch's palace, pounding out echoes from its Gothic arches in her spool heeled slippers. “Leave me here to take a nap. Ha! Just like your wooden headed brother. Some vital contribution you think I make! It's already well into the second day. It's almost supper. It'll be the second supper I've had to eat by myself.” She stumped out of the hall, straight through a sitting room, stepping aside as she went to yank a cloth from under a vase on an end table. “Uh-oh!” she said as the vase smashed onto the stone floor. “Must have been the stupid hired help.”
At the far end of the room she veered into a matching table as she passed. When its vase merely toppled onto its side, she came right back and threw it onto the floor. “Too bad, Uncle Razzorbauch! That's what you get when you're not here to keep an eye on things.” That wasn't quite good enough. She marched into the next room, looking for something else.
“I absolutely hate this place! Your promises stink. You not only abandon me here, you never showed me around. Not once! I've been in each one of these awful rooms at least seven times, while you... Oh good!” she said, stopping short before a marble bust. “Idiot gnoff!” she cried, giving its stone pedestal a good shove. It rocked to and fro with a couple of deep thumps. She looked up at the bust for a moment. “Oh, maybe not. That might be bad. He'd know it wasn't just some careless hired lady.” She gave a great sigh and went out onto the balcony.
“I just hate it here,” she said as she leant against the balustrade. “I even miss Minny-Min. I could at least talk to her when she wasn't being too goody-goody.” She stared out over the great twisted woods. There was a breeze, but the sounds in the trees were far off moans and whispers. A great grey owl wailed.
“There you are,” said Razzorbauch from just behind her.
Ugleeuh wheeled about with a gasp.
“Is everything all right?” he said with a smile that came and went.
“Why of course, Uncle Razzorbauch,” she said, as if she'd just come in from a sunny game of croquet. “That's a silly question. Is something the matter?”
“Oh, no. I was just wondering. The help was going on about your being agitated, is all.”
“Oh, pooh!” she said with a smile to hide her splash of alarm. “That's ridiculous.”
“Oh, I knew it was,” he said, studying her face. “Oh, here they come now. We're having supper out here, since it's so nice. We're having roast hog, if you don't mind that.”
“Pork roast would be wonderful,” she said, wondering what had become of her shrill demands for lamb, as she watched them set up the trestles and board.
Soon they were seated. “So,” said Razzorbauch, as he sliced off a generous piece of roast and put it onto her plate, “any further thoughts about getting sukere started in Niarg alongside all the Elven honey merchants? How many people would even try the free sukere sample you suggest, when they have such unbelievably high regard for anything produced by the Elves?”
“Some would,” she said with a wise nod, as she grabbed at a piece of steaming bread and licked her fingers. “I think a right fair number of them would welcome not having to buy honey or anything else from that pompous lot. I think they'd even welcome a few well placed smudges on the snooty Elven image.”
“My word, dear,” he said with a sudden grin of glee as he rubbed his hands and took some bread. “And how do you suggest we go about this smudging?”
Ugleeuh's eyes sparkled with their own look of glee. “Right now's perfect,” she said as she leant forward. “As I've said, the plague has come to Niarg.”
***
“Idiots!” cried King Henry as he took off his crown and rubbed his forehead. “Fates almighty!” He replaced his crown and looked up at Prince Hebraun and Captain Strong. “Who in the name of the Pitmaster himself and all his coal shoveling goblins started such a rumor?”
“Somebody out in the town,” said Strong, looking down to study the helm in his hands. “Pretty well had to be, but it was out and all over the place by the time we got wind of it. Anyone could have started it.”
“Well we just need this!” said Henry, banging the arm of his great chair with the meat of his fist. “The Elves aren't just citizens. They've got more knowledge and skills than anyone else to help out with this mess. And right when we need them the most, the witless amongst us rise up accuse them of starting the plague.” He leant back with a sigh as a huff of breeze sent ripples across the banner behind him, lazily clacking its rod against the stone wall. He drummed his fingers for a moment. “So where's Leigheas, anyway?”
“Packing, I'd reckon,” said Hebraun, trading a glance with Strong. “Or clean gone already, would be more like it.”
“He has to be gone,” said Strong. “The fifth, sixth and seventh Elves were lynched on different streets, this morning.”
“I already knew about them,” said Henry. “But Leigheas. He was worth ten times all of Niarg's doctors put together.”
“And Razzmorten...” said Hebraun.
“What? Razzmorten? They're a-saying he's caused Humans to die needlessly by giving oil to the Elves, right? I've already heard that one, and until you came in just now, I thought that was the reason for the lynchings...”
“No,” said Hebraun. “Now they're saying that he's using the oil to steal the very souls of the sick.”
Henry rolled his eyes with another great sigh. He twisted a spike in the hairs on his chin as the banner rod tapped the wall. “Well,” he said, with a squint at Hebraun, “that certainly beats the bugs a-fighting, all right, and I'm not just about to discuss it with anyone yet, but that just might be the one part of this mess which could be fixed.”
***
“Green,” said Razzmorten as he gave a peach a fling into the grass and backed away from the tree to study the fruit on its branches. “I don't think there'll be a ripe peach out here in any of these trees until the end of next week. They're really loaded, though.” He stared out across the rolling orchard for a moment, listening to the tinkling of sheep bells and the meandering babble of the catbirds.
“I've been well enough to help you with the still for a good two weeks...” said Minuet, looking up from her bracelet of clover heads as the breeze stirred her hair.
“I am listening,” he said as he went back to peering up into the branches. “I've just been too busy to come out here with all the uproar.”
“Well you have lots of help, and I've begun feeling guilty about not helping out in Niarg, particularly with them being short handed with all of the sick.”
“My dear Minuet,” he said as he gave her his arm, “you can't imagine the good it does me knowing that I have at least one daughter with a heart big enough to worry about the welfare of others, but you're undoubtedly helping far more people right here at the distillery than you possibly could, going from bed to bed.”
“I know you're concerned about me, especially since I was so sick myself, but I'm fine now. Besides, what better way to silence those ugly rumors about the Elves and us than for me to help tend the sick? Surely they'll see that we're helping them.”
Razzmorten stopped short and turned to face her. “You have a right good plan, dear, except for one very serious omission,” he said as he took a wide-eyed bite of timothy stem. “You have utterly no idea at all about the terrifying pandemonium in a town stricken with the plague...”
“I thought I had. I've had the plague myself. I know what
it's like, and I've listened quite carefully to what people have been saying. I've been talking to Bethan about it, and she'll go with me.”
“Then you truly have no idea at all. It's far too dangerous...”
“But aren't I safe if I have my powers?”
“Absolutely not!” he said, sweeping off his hat. “My dear, if you used them to get out of a tight spot, you'd undo every bit of oregano administering and pan carrying that everyone has done so far. You'd be a witch in the eyes of nearly everyone in Niarg. You'd be proving their worst fears. What you'd need is a bodyguard, some proven swordsman at the very least, if you were so foolhardy as to go.”
“Then can't you get a bodyguard for Bethan and me?”
“You may not be grasping what I'm trying to tell you,” he said as he began a slow amble toward the summer kitchen. “You've grown up and had all your tutoring right here at Peach Knob. So thanks to my teaching and to the influence of the Elves, you think of the plague as a disease, an unknown part of the natural world which you almost certainly catch from the sick by being too close to them. This is an Elven idea. And it escapes most Humans, even the doctors. Most Humans think of the plague as some sort of curse or Pitborne magic. And when the plague is about, they are hysterically terrified of anyone who has chanced to be pointed out as a caster of spells. There have already been lynchings in Niarg. Have you heard?”
“I heard them talking about one, just this morning. I wasn't listening carefully, but I didn't really connect it with the plague.”
“Well, you can't expect for word to get around that the
Elves have deliberately caused the plague without some kind of reaction, particularly when everyone is just plain terrified,” he said with a sigh as he put his hat back on and offered his arm again. “Do you have any idea what it would do to me if something happened to you, particularly if it was due to my negligence?”
Minuet blinked and swallowed before taking his arm.
“My dear young lady. I can't imagine being happy with your going into that place, but just to be fair, let's go find Bethan. I'll at least hear out the two of you.”
A brilliant black and orange oriole landed in the crown of a walnut and began a medley of whistling to match his colors. Minuet hiked her skirt with her free hand to step across the stickery pig weed with her bare feet. As they came round the corner of the summer kitchen, a sleek rat came out the door and vanished behind the rain barrel. “Did you see that rat?” she said, stepping into the doorway. “Broad daylight and everything.”
“What rat, Min-Min?” said Bethan as she dropped her knife into her pan of beets and water and dried her hands.
“One dashed out just as we came in.”
“It's just the kind of year it is,” said Razzmorten, as he took a seat on the bench at the board near Bethan's pan of beets. He fished out a beet, sliced off a piece with his knife and took a bite. “Well now, what do you make of Minuet's determination for to go right into the thick of things in Niarg?”
“Well sir, she's pretty neigh talked me into going with her, she has. Of course I'd not think of it without your leave.”
“You weren't born yet when the last plague came through here...” he said. “Oh! Of course not. What am I thinking! That was two hundred years ago. So there's no way you'd ever have seen what it does to a town full of people, is there?”
“I've heard enough of this town full of people,” she said with sudden fierceness. “And I don't care one bit for what they're a- doing! They're a-saying you're in league with the Elves.”
“I am.”
“Yea. But they say the Elves started the plague and that you're a-helping them right along. And they have no right to tarnish the good name of Dewin. They say that when your oil is used, people only get back their health by giving up their souls...”
Razzmorten reached up and took her hand. “My dear Bethan,” He said. “I treasure your fierce loyalty. I wouldn't pay so much attention to those rumors. Inside Fates' Hospital for the Sick, we're curing as many people as we have the oil to cure. Most of the people in the castle proper are already well. When things calm down, everyone will see what we've done.”
“Father, wouldn't it help if people saw us tending the sick in the hospital?” said Minuet. “I mean, isn't it safe inside the place?”
“Of course. It would have to help,” he said as he cut another slice of beet and ate it. “But I don't know whether it's safe for you two or not, even with an armed escort...”
“I've got my knife, sir.”
“When did you start carrying that dirk?”
“The minute I saw that there might be folks I need to stick with it. I've had it on me for two or three days. And I swear: nobody will harm your daughter without me sticking them first!”
“Well,” he said as he gave his knees a clap with his hands, “Prince Hebraun should be here this evening for this last batch of oil. I'll see what he thinks.”
Just before dark, Hebraun did indeed call to pick up two gallons of oil. “One armed guard?” he said to Razzmorten as he shifted his sword and crossed his arms. “Maybe inside Fates' Hospital, but I wouldn't have any less than four good men to get them there and back. If they're determined to wait on the sick, I'll send 'round Sergeant Bernard and four or five others of his choosing in the morning.”
***
“Uncle Razzorbauch, look!” said Ugleeuh in a hush as she reached across the table to touch his arm. “There are Min-Min and Bethan, on their way out with that soldier. They looked right at us and didn't notice. They've been in here the whole time. What would they be doing here?”
“Have you forgotten our glamouries?” he said with twinkling eyes as he caught a dribble of soup down his chin with his spoon. “I can't imagine how she'd recognize a bald headed pardoner and a blond sister.”
Ugleeuh held out a lock of her hair and stuck out her tongue at it.
“And as for why they're in the Silver Dragon, didn't you see their yellow sashes? They've almost certainly taken up nursing, across the road in Fates' Hospital, a sign of desperation at Peach Knob, don't you reckon?”
“I love this!” she said, smiling into her goblet of mead. “Everyone's getting what he had coming. The Elves are fleeing and we're going to make a killing when everything settles down.”
“This pardoner glamourie isn't half bad either as an impromptu stunt during a plague,” said Razzorbauch with a huff that flung a fleck of his stew onto her sleeve. “All these fools running up to fall onto their knees and shove money at me. Bought us a good supper, anyway. But this is just beggary. We've got bigger fish to fry...”
“Dragon fish?”
“Yeap,” he said, yanking his napkin from his collar and grabbing up her hand. “We're off to the Mammvro, right in the middle of the Dark Continent. It'll be awkward for a moment, but Minuet and your hired woman are gone...”
“Why?”
“I've no choice but to drop these glamouries before I can cast a traveling spell.”
“Oh.”
“Ready?”
At once, the room about them fell to a dead hush. As the diners grew wide eyed, straining to be certain of a wizard and a raven haired woman where the pardoner and the blond were supposed to be, the unexpected pair vanished altogether.
***
“You keep pecking at that thing, Ocker,” said Urr-Urr. “Are you actually seeing things in hit?”
“Yea. But hit hardly matters which way I have hit turned. Things look the same from every angle.”
“Well, I certainly don't see anything from here,” she said with a snap of each wing.
“You wouldn't. You don't have any magic at all...”
“Thanks!”
“You know what I mean. Demonica put a spell on me, not you.”
“I'm just teasing. What have you been looking at?”
“Oh, this and that,” he said, fluffing up and sleeking down. “Just places I could think of, here and there, hoping to find some tidbit to sell. What's str
ange is that I thought I'd have a peek at Longbark, you know, the tree where my stick came from, and all I saw was an enormous hole in the ground. Meri Greenwood might be interested, but I think I'll avoid him. And just now, I thought I'd have a look at where Razzorbauch's land reaches the Gulf of Orin, and I'm not sure what I'm a-seeing. Hit looks like Razzorbauch has a whole swiving swarm of soldiers clearing brush. Now why on earth would he need that kind of help?”
Urr-Urr stood up without warning and peered at the eggs beneath her. “Ocker!” she cried. “I don't know about Razzorbauch, but I know what kind of help I'm going to need. Our first egg's pipped!”
“You've got two of 'em,” cried Ocker. “They're hatching!” And with that, the pair of them dove into the air off their ledge, making a frenzied circling flight for the highest reaches of the heavens, until far above the clouds, they broke into a tumbling frolic, plummeting down, down through the blue afternoon sky, until at last they returned to their nest in a grand glide, wing tip to wing tip.
“There's the third one!” cried Ocker.
Urr-Urr hopped astraddle her clutch. “No Ocker,” she said, pecking at them delicately. “Every single one's got a hole. They're all hatching.” She settled herself onto them at once.
Ocker sat on the edge of the nest and nibbled at the feathers on her cheek and down her neck. “You know,” he said as he peered off the ledge at the roof of Razzorbauch's keep, far below, “I ought to see if the old swyver and his new mistress are back yet. Who knows when they'll show me something Demonica would pay for. I won't spend all afternoon at hit.”
“At least you might find out something about his staff.”
“Righty-o. I'll have my eyes open,” he said as he stood up and gave himself a thorough shake. “And I might even dare to ask him a thing or two, but that rotten old toute could be the very death of me if he figured out that I had my own stick.”
“Well you be careful,” she said as she rose to check an egg that was tickling her before settling back down. “Hit might be a lot of work to kill him if I had to take time off from our brood to do hit.”
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 11