“I don't suppose a one of you could possibly guess who came calling on me within the last couple of days,” said King Hebraun, as though what he had to say was every bit as light as the chatter had been up until now. He drew in a breath between his teeth. “Young King James, would you all believe.”
A baleful attentiveness took hold of the quiet room as he began telling about James's visit and about the ominous developments in the kingdom while everyone had been away. Servants began at the table, lighting candles throughout the hall. Hebraun went quiet as he looked down his front to find a stray piece of meat before licking his knife and taking a bite of bread.
Razzmorten scooted back from the table to knit his brow in such a way that he had everyone's attention, as he studied the fat burnished pear in his hands. “Well, as you have already gathered, we've been out having adventures of our own,” he said as he began a complete account of events from the time he'd set sail for the Dragon Caves with Rose and Lukus to their arrival back in Niarg. He took a big bite of his pear. A gust of cold air rushed across the room from the far windows, snuffing candles and making the shadows lurch and dance in the far corners of the hall.
Hebraun stood up to pace about as the windows were closed and coals were brought to each of the four fireplaces. “So after all these years, Demonica shows up and manages to get her clutches on both the Staff and the Heart,” he said with a resigned shake of his head. He sat back down. “It's been a year for it, Razzmorten. I swear, every time I think I see something really bad coming, it turns out far worse. So how's Niarg, or any other country for that matter, to survive this one? I mean, we don't have anything at all, unless there's something you've left out. I know you said that the Elves are certain that the twins really do have the power to defeat Demonica, Spitemorta, Heart and Staff, but that will be a gamble at best when the time comes. And 'when the time comes' is even worse. What will be left to defend, save or even restore 'when the time comes?'“ Hebraun rubbed his face and looked up. “This kind of thing makes me swear I'm not fit to be king.”
“Hebraun!” cried Minuet. “You can't...!”
“No Minuet. I'm not deriding myself. I'm just 'way too naive to run a country in these times...”
“Hebraun! You're the best...”
“No, dear. The problem is that I am indeed naive. I'm forever being thrown off by the motivation of evil people. I know she's bad; I can see what she's doing, but what has me paralyzed is why she would ever want to. I understand how ruthlessly cold-blooded the striving for power is, but why does she always choose to be so utterly harmful?”
“Your despair is right familiar to me since I raised the mother of one and was married to the other, but we mustn't give into it,” said Razzmorten as he rose and put his hand on Hebraun's shoulder. “We do have one thing on our side, after all. Both Spitemorta and Demonica are as mortal as we are. Therefore they can be stopped.”
“Kill them, you're saying?” said Minuet, wide eyed.
“Absolutely,” said Razzmorten riveting his gaze into hers. “By all means. Family ties are of no consequence when they threaten the lives of everyone. But what kind of ties are they? I might have been married to Demonica, but we're divorced. And she was your sister's mother, not yours. What do you think about Demonica, Yann-Ber?”
“Kill her!” growled Yann-Ber through his clenched teeth. “Oh please, do kill her by all means. It would save us all, and as I'm reminded every waking minute, it would free me at last of my curse.”
“And he's her husband, Minuet,” said Razzmorten, turning back to her. “And Spitemorta? She may be your half-niece, but all the blood in her veins which dooms her to evil, she got from Demonica. And the pair of them are after the world. And you're absolutely right Hebraun, they have far more evil than is required to do the job.”
“What about James, then?” said Minuet, as she shared a wide eyed look with Hebraun.
“That got by me,” said Razzmorten.
“Perhaps he'd help us.”
“Perhaps, but that's risky, risky,” said Razzmorten, leaning back to stare out into the shadows. “Even if all that James told you is accurate, as it very well might be, it hardly means that he wishes to help do in his wife and mother of his own child.”
“Oh indeed,” said Yann-Ber. “Pardon my interruption, but I was loyal to Demonica for a shamefully long time after I was convinced that she was a villain. I rue this of course, and I still live with it on my conscience, but it took her putting her curse on me before I came to my senses. Pushed to it, James might even try to protect her.”
“Yes,” said Razzmorten. “He may have wanted to warn you because he still has some sense of loyalty and duty to the old alliance Loxmere once shared with Niarg. It's possible he feels guilty over what happened between him and Rose, in spite of the predictable face saving that went on at the time.” He paused to lean forward, giving an apologetic look to Rose and Fuzz. “Could be anything. He may even have been lying about the whole thing. Spitemorta might have sent him. We just don't know. No, I think involving James could be a fatal mistake.”
“What about the Elves?” said Hebraun. “I don't remember much being said about them beyond the birth of the twins and their conviction about their future power. Is there anything they can do to help?”
“They are our allies, as they have always been and live within our borders, as we sometimes are inclined to overlook, and will without question fight at our side, but beyond that, they've no solution for the Heart and the Staff. Neron has a suggestion that I agree with, however. He urges devising an alliance of all those known to have magical ability and attempting to bring their collective powers to bear on Demonica and
Spitemorta to at least come to an impasse.”
“What good would a stalemate do us, Grandfather?” said Rose.
“Buy time, Rose. The longer we can keep them from taking over the world, the better off we'll be. Surviving a wait for the twins, if we must, will definitely require a stalemate.”
“Would it truly be possible to hold them at bay until Lukus and Soraya's babies are old enough?” said Rose.
“Probably not,” said Razzmorten, “but we must exercise what choices we have.”
“Grandfather, do you think Demonica and Spitemorta know about the babies?”
“There's no way to know if they do,” said Razzmorten as his face fell, “but given time, they almost certainly will...”
“But do they know that a marriage of an Elf to a Human could beget someone able to defeat the Great Staff and the Heart together?”
“Oh, Demonica probably knows that, Rose. I'd say she certainly knows there's a possibility.”
“Possibility?” said Minuet. “There's a chance they'd fail?”
“Of course, Minuet. The twins have the best chance of defeating Demonica and Spitemorta, but you never know. There's always risk, but I'm afraid it will become evermore clear as time goes by that our choices are few, very few.”
“What kind of peril are the grandchildren in?” said Hebraun.
“As remote as I think possible at the moment,” said Razzmorten. “The Elves are right well aware of the dangers, and you can rest assured that they're being keenly vigilant on those two babes' behalf. They're probably safer in the Jutwoods than anywhere.”
“It will be every bit as much of a challenge keeping Daniel and Ariel safe as it will be keeping Demonica and Spitemorta at bay,” said Hebraun. “I'll speak to Captain Bernard first thing in the morning about readying a force, though I'm at a terrible loss as to how I should advise him.”
“Tell him right after supper,” said Razzmorten. “It would not be at all wise to wait. There's no telling when Spitemorta and Demonica will decide to strike.”
“Yes, but with the Heart and the Staff, what conceivable preparations can I suggest?”
Razzmorten twisted the end of his beard into a spike for a moment, knitting his brow. “Where's the First Wizard's old diary?” he said, suddenly sitting upright with a lu
nge. “I know we have it somewhere.”
“Why, it's been years and years,” said Hebraun. “It's probably locked away in the strong room off the library...”
“Good. Why don't you wait on seeing Spearsy until I peruse that dusty old artifact. It's time I did some studying.”
“You sound almost chipper,” said Hebraun.
“Do I, now? Well, don't get your hopes up. I just need to see if something's there I think I just remembered.”
“Thank you, but something just lightened your step,” said Hebraun, “so could you be so kind as to let us in on what you think you may discover?”
“All right, very well, very well. If I'm not clean mistaken, the summoning of the greater powers of the Heart or of the Great Staff or of their combination requires more than just pointing and commanding them.”
“Spitemorta and Demonica must know certain spells to make them work?” said Minuet, sitting forward with keen eyes.
“Oh, it seems like it,” said Razzmorten. “But please, let me study the diary before I say more.”
Minuet and Hebraun shared a hopeful nod. However, Yann-Ber began fidgeting anxiously.
“You have something to add, my friend?” said Razzmorten, turning to him.
Yann-Ber nodded and rose slowly from his seat like a schoolboy about to fail at an important recitation. He looked around at each of his companions who were waiting for him to speak. “I know for certain that Demonica has no knowledge of such spells for using the Heart and Staff. If your memory indeed serves you correctly, it will buy us all valuable time while she figures it all out.”
“This sounds like heartening news, Yann-Ber,” said Razzmorten, “but why are you certain that she has no such knowledge?”
“She's been searching for the Great Staff and the Heart for as long as I've known her,” he said, before pausing to stare at the floor to regain his composure. “There is another thing I must tell you all. Everyone here has been so kind and gracious, that I'm dismayed that I've withheld my guilt.” He looked about, taking a deep breath with a shudder. “Every bit of this is my fault. It was I who told Demonica that Spitemorta had come by the Great Staff...” He squeezed shut his mouth and eyes as tears ran to his chin.
“I was too weak to see beyond my own needs. When she put this curse on me, she promised that she would free me by letting me die if I were to find out where either the Great Staff or the Heart were. After seven horrible years I heard tidings of the death of her daughter, Ugleeuh. It was said by some that Spitemorta had taken the Staff from Ugleeuh's dying hands. I spent enough time in Goll to be satisfied that the rumors were true. I rushed to tell her at once. She was thrilled at my news, right enough. She was so very delighted that she kept her promise of releasing me from my suffering by granting me my death fully one year after that time, and by adding the impossibility of my death by any means including suicide or murder during that time. Meanwhile my boils must have spread inside me, for I have terrible pains.” He shook his head and bit his lip as he fought to regain his composure. “I'm so very, very sorry that I have brought this horror upon the world, my friends. Now it seems that I've committed the very act which earns the pain and punishment of her curse.” He covered his face with his hands and collapsed back onto his chair, quaking with sobs.
Razzmorten stood and quickly shared a look of urgent compassion with everyone as he put his hand on Yann-Ber's shoulder. “No man deserves what Demonica did to you, Yann-Ber,” he said. “No one in this room condemns you for what she forced you to do.
She is dangerously clever and incredibly wealthy. She has many more sources of information than just you. Had you not told her, she would certainly have gotten word of Spitemorta and the Staff from someone else eventually. Surely, you can see this?”
“Thank you. You're being very kind to me, but it was I who did indeed tell her. I did it. Does this not make a difference to any of you?” he said, daring to look up at everyone to be dumbfounded at their having compassion instead of wrath in their eyes.
“Mark me right well Yann-Ber: you sit amongst your friends,” said Razzmorten.
“I reckon I'm at such a loss since before you all, I hadn't rightly known any. I'm out of a world of power. You spoke of her wealth. It was mine that became a fair part of hers. I was heir to substantial holdings in mines and arms. I of course, am penniless at the present, thanks to her.
“And power, that's all she is, except where she exceeds it with her sheer wanton evil. She was ever talking about the Great Staff and the Heart. She was obsessed, in fact, and spared no expense in trying to discover their whereabouts. When she wasn't going on about finding them, she was lamenting the fact that Razzorbauch died without giving her all the information she needed to wield them. She seemed to have some limited working knowledge of the Staff due, I suppose, to her parasitic affair with him, but the Heart was another matter altogether. Kalon Bras she called it. That's Headlandish for 'Great Heart.' She stole it for him once, and she has resented him mightily ever since for dying instead of sharing one whit about how to use it.”
“Thank you, right honorable friend, for telling us this,” said Razzmorten, straightening up with a hopeful look as he patted Yann-Ber on the shoulder. “This is the most promising information we've had to go on since Spitemorta and Demonica set their claws upon the Heart. If the grimoire in First Wizard's diary has what I remember it to have, we may just survive a while longer.” With a look and a nod for everyone in the room, he strode out for the library.
“Has word been sent to the dragons to warn them about Spitemorta's sukere crop accusations?” said Fuzz in the midst of everyone's silence.
“Absolutely,” said Hebraun. “A messenger was sent to King Neron right after James was here, asking that he relay the tidings with one of his message globes. It was the fastest way I could think of.”
“They should know directly then,” said Fuzz, as he showed a relieved look to Rose.
Hebraun nodded.
Minuet squeezed his hand. “I suggest we call a halt to this discussion for this evening,” she said roundly. “We obviously can't solve this in one night and you've all just journeyed hard and should have your rest.”
Fuzz and Yann-Ber bid everyone goodnight and filed out at once.
“Perhaps tomorrow, between bouts of saving the world, we can find a little time to talk about our wedding,” said Rose as she hugged Minuet and Hebraun.
Minuet and Hebraun bubbled with smiles and nods.
“Come love,” said Hebraun as he pulled Minuet to his side. “I expect we need the rest as badly as our guests do.”
Minuet had never known him to be so weighed down by the throne. It alarmed her, but perhaps Razzmorten could relieve some of his burden.
***
Demonica paced about the arcade of the east hall, pausing here and there to give a distracted eye to certain portraits amongst King Brutlee and Queen Bee's collection of the Northern Continent's famous personages. She looked up impatiently at the sounds of footsteps. “You certainly took your time,” she said as Spitemorta approached. “Did you remember the skinweler?”
“Of course,” said Spitemorta, raising one of her bags to reveal its heft in one corner, “though, I can't imagine why you'd think it's necessary. James doesn't have one yet, so I won't be keeping in touch with him while we're away. I wish I had one for little Abaddon, though. He misses me terribly when I'm away.”
“I'm surprised that you wouldn't already be anticipating numerous uses,” said Demonica as she gave a look of disbelief. “I'll explain on the ship. We really mustn't delay any longer, dear. Captain Jockford needs to set sail on time in order to rendezvous at a certain point, just beyond the horizon with the other six privateers I've hired. Besides, he's one who becomes inconvenient when he's put off.”
Spitemorta picked up her bags with a yank and sullenly followed her to the coach which was just being loaded with the last of their luggage. “I still don't see what reason you had for hiring seven privateer
s for this voyage rather than just taking Goll's own vessels,” she said as she took her seat in the coach. “We do have a most impressive fleet, Grandmother, even if Gollsport is only leased to us from Cyclopsia.”
“I am boundlessly aware of that, dear, along with your plans to appropriate the entire realm of Cyclopsia in the near future,” said Demonica. “Honestly! You really do need to start thinking things through on your own, Rouanez Bras. So then, my dearest Queen of two countries, just why would we hire private ships instead of taking royal vessels?”
“I don't feel like guessing games, Demonica.”
Demonica looked at her placidly, but did not budge.
“Oh, all right. I can only imagine that you hired private ships to avoid notice, since I would be expected to be on a royal vessel.”
“Wonderful,” said Demonica, as she clapped her hands. “It's most encouraging that you got one of the reasons. You need to be thinking right along as we go, particularly with what we have ahead of us on the Eastern Continent.”
“I already knew all of that before I saw you, this morning.”
“You're being even more irritable over petty things than you usually are, dear.” said Demonica, cocking her head as she studied her. “Did you and your handsome man have a falling out over your leaving again so soon, even though he runs off at the slightest provocation, or what?”
“You don't know what you're talking about,” said Spitemorta with a huff, as she crossed her arms and thrust out her chin to watch the hedges go by.
“Perhaps you're right,” said Demonica as her eyebrows went up. “So why don't you fill me in and have done, dear?”
“I have an objection, if you care to hear it.”
“Here I sit, listening.”
“Good! I would very much prefer the comforts aboard one of my own vessels.”
“Yea? Well so would I. But then you never know, some of these private ships aren't too bad.”
“Right,” said Spitemorta as she slouched in her seat to stare out at the distant flashes of lightning. “Great!” she thought, “Storms just as I'm about to set sail.”
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 94