Heart of the Staff - Complete Series

by Carol Marrs Phipps

  “Please, have a seat Lance, and tell us what this is all about.”

  Lance tugged at the drawstrings of a leather bag and dumped out a skinweler into his lap. “King James asked that I bring this to Your Majesties.”

  “A scrying crystal?” said Minuet. “My word! What for?”

  “He said to tell you that it is one of many more just like it, and that they each belong to Spitemorta. She's placed them in the largest towns and hamlets throughout both Loxmere and Goll...” He paused as Minuet and Hebraun traded scowls. “...And he said to tell you that this crystal is by no means an ordinary one. This one, and the others like it, allow those with no magical ability whatsoever to see into it and view what is there. He also said that Spitemorta is addressing the people in the places where she has distributed them, spreading her lies, showing herself as the benevolent queen working selflessly to stem Niargian, Elven and dragon treachery. He warns that Spitemorta may be able to see who is looking into the crystals, but he doesn't know for certain if that is indeed the case.”

  “Please put the crystal back inside the bag and take it home and convey our sincere gratitude to James,” said Minuet, blanching. “Even the slightest chance that

  Spitemorta can see who peers into her crystal puts us in peril. Your tidings are invaluable though, and we are grateful that you came.”

  “I have no magical abilities,” said Hebraun, “but I concur with Queen Minuet and I wish to convey our sincere thanks and gratitude for your information.”

  Lance nodded and returned the scrying ball to the bag. He stood and bowed. “Thank you for your time,” he said as he yanked tight the strings. “I hope our next meeting is under happier circumstances. I will carry your words to my king.”

  When Lance had gone, Hebraun took up Minuet's hand with a squeeze. “Time's growing short, love,” he said.

  “Yes,” she said, drawing a breath as she closed her eyes, “very short indeed.”

  Chapter 96

  Spitemorta had to bend nearly double to enter her berth without hitting her head. Once inside, she still had to stoop and be wary of the timbers above. She went straight to her skinweler, giddy with anticipation. She carefully set it upon the table fastened to the hull and sat on her bed, since she no longer fit the chair. “First I'll contact Captain Brutus, then I'll give an address to my subjects. I've certainly got the time,” she said with a thick booming laugh. “It'll be hours before Demonica gets here with her hoard of beasts. Maybe I'll get lucky and they'll eat her,” She threw back her head and laughed again until tears ran down her cheeks. “That would be great. With her out of the way I could even go home without those awful trolls. How could I possibly need them? Goll's army can wipe out Niarg and the Elves without any problem. I simply have too much power and too much control for any army under my command to fail. Besides, where it might falter, I could certainly use the Staff and the Heart and finish the job.”

  She gave a final sigh as she dried an eye on the back of her hand.

  She hesitated for a moment as she felt of her protruding eyebrow ridges with her fingertips. “Well, I suppose that does make me look like them. It's a mercy I haven't seen myself in a looking glass,” she rumbled quietly, as she adjusted herself where she sat and scooped up the skinweler into her hands. “Well. It's time to remember myself as the raven haired siren which I actually am,” she said. “The sight of me as my face just felt would give my subjects quite a bit to recover from.” She closed her eyes for a moment and with a clench of her teeth and a shake of her head, she summoned her captain of the guard. It took far longer than she expected, but before long his brooding face appeared out of the swirling mists within her globe.

  “Report to me, Captain Brutus,” she said.

  “Yes, Majesty!” he barked. “The army has grown in number since last we spoke, and they are shaping up quite nicely. I'm right confident that they'll be in top fighting shape within only a very few months.”

  “You're proud of this?” she said over the misty miles between the skinweleriou.

  “I certainly had been until this minute, Majesty.”

  “A very few days, is what I have in mind, Captain.”

  “As you say my queen, so shall it be,” he said without the slightest hesitation, though his eyes betrayed his fear.

  “I knew it was too early for your death, Captain,” she said with a coquettish smile. “Be assured that a substantial promotion comes with your success at what's ahead. The world awaits what you are preparing to deliver. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

  “Crystal clear,” said Brutus, his face turned unreadable. “Absolutely, crystal clear.”

  “Good. You will be long remembered if you manage. Now, how are my subjects doing with the skinweleriou? Are they still faithfully viewing my addresses?”

  “The vast majority form mobs, scrambling and fighting for the chance to get even a single a glimpse of you. In fact, it would be a vast relief for the constabulary if we were to appropriate some very large number of them to ease the crowds. At the very least, seeing you in the skinweleriou is now a national passion. And nearly every one of them believes every single word you say.”

  “Just what do you mean by, 'nearly every one of them?' I caught the look on your face. What's going on?”

  “There are a few citizens, a very few, who find your newly disclosed magical abilities disturbing, frightening in fact. Some of these traitors suggest that you are too dangerous to stay on the throne. A handful openly call for your execution.”

  “Executions by all means,” she hissed, “but not mine. Who are these traitors, Captain? Silence them now. I'll not have them poisoning the minds of my loyal subjects.”

  “I anticipated this, my Queen,” he said with an acquiescent nod, “and they are being rounded up even as we speak. Shall I have them held in the dungeon until your return or...?”

  “As much as I would love dealing with them myself Captain, I'm afraid I've not the time. Have them vanish without a trace. Execute them in utter secrecy and make certain that their deaths can not be traced back to the crown. Understood?”

  “Absolutely Majesty.”

  “Good. Is there anything else I should know before I speak to my clambering multitudes today?...Well, Captain?” she snapped irritably at his hesitation.

  “I regret to say that it concerns King James...”

  “James? Has something happened to him?”

  “No, no. Nothing like that. He discovered the skinweler in the courtyard and asked me why it was there and why people were gathered around it as if they could see something in it...”

  “So?” she barked out with a short laugh. “Is that all? I fully expected him to. You needn't bother with it any further. I'm quite prepared to deal with it when I get back.”

  “Yes Majesty, but there's more to it...”

  “Well, out with it, then.”

  “Certainly. I hope you don't take my actions amiss Your Majesty, but with the king's ignorance of the skinweleriou, I decided to have him watched for a few days, just to make sure that the crystal stayed put so that the citizens wouldn't miss any of your addresses. I'm right glad I did, if you don't mind my saying, since the skinweler in the courtyard did indeed vanish.”

  “And James took it, aye?”

  Brutus nodded.

  “And I suppose he returned it after a spell?”

  Brutus shook his head. “Not yet.”

  “My poor husband is a pure child, Captain. After he rolls the ball around enough and sees me in it a few times he'll get quite bored.”

  “Begging your pardon, Majesty, but I fear there's still more to it than that.”

  “Really? Then I suggest you get to telling me Captain.”

  “Certainly. At the same time that the skinweler vanished, King James sent for Lance. Immediately after that Lance left the king's solar with a leather bag that probably had the skinweler in it. Of course, my yeoman followed him, but after a time Lance realized he was being tailed...” />
  “And got away.”

  “I'm afraid so.”

  For a moment Spitemorta wanted to strike him down through the skinweler. “I trust your yeoman has been taught that failure at one's duty is not allowed?” she said, recovering at once.

  “He's in the dungeon this minute, awaiting your return, Majesty. Should I execute him now?”

  “No, I want to make an example of him when I get back. Just see that he does not become comfortable.”

  “Understood.”

  “So where do you suppose Lance took the skinweler?”

  “He was heading north before he got away.”

  “Does that mean towards Niarg?”

  “It's a possibility, Majesty. I have regulars patrolling the border even as we speak. Rest assured that if he did, the moment he crosses back in, we'll have him. Then we'll know what he did with the skinweler. Make no mistake about that.”

  “I don't share your confidence. Lance has been James's lifelong friend as well as his retainer, Captain. He'll choose to die before he betrays his king.”

  “What then is your wish regarding this matter?”

  “Oh, try torture by all means, Captain. Damage him as much as you enjoy, but take care that he remains alive. Just don't fail to get your hands on him.”

  “I will not fail, Majesty. I will see to this personally.”

  “Excellent. See that you do.”

  “Yes, my Queen.”

  Spitemorta silenced the skinweler and sat on the bed tapping her lips with her forefinger as she stared off into the reaches of her contemplations.

  ***

  Spark and Lipperella had a quick word with Tors and Kast and set out at once for the main entrance. Reaching the top of the broad white stairway, they paused to catch their breath as they looked for signs of the diatrymas in the leaning oaks, still green with their leaves in spite of the frosts.

  “I can see a long way into the derwen pwysaf, and not a trace of Ceidwad and Lladdwr,” said Lipperella as she stared from under the flat of her hand.

  “Hey, look off yonder, above the trees,” said Spark. “That's Laora and Edward, isn't it?”

  “Yea. Ceidwad and Lladdwr must be right below them.”

  “And here they come.”

  Laora and Edward made a hurried landing and came running as Ceidwad and Lladdwr trotted into view amongst the oaks.

  “Good day to you, Spark and Lipperella,” said Ceidward as she and Lladdwr jogged to a fluid halt and made a bow. “We have tidings from Mary.”

  “Welcome back to the Dragon Caves,” said Spark. “Would you like some refreshments?”

  “We could get you...” cried Laora, with a bounce before going wide eyed. “Oh. Sorry.”

  “Thank you... And thank you too, sweetheart,” said Ceidwad, glancing aside at Laora. “But we had just snapped up a nice fat rabbit apiece when Laora and Edward came back to find us, so at the moment it just might waste time.”

  “Well, we could fetch up just about anything if you change your minds,” said Spark. “In the meantime, how would this nice grassy spot over here do as a place to sit down and talk?”

  “Again, thank you,” said Ceidwad as she and Lladdwr settled down where he showed them, under an especially large leaning oak. “I'll get right to the point. I'm afraid that circumstances dictate that I must. Mary wants you to know that the Peppermint Forest now seems to have faded away entirely. And worse than that, the smallies are swarming in in such huge numbers that even the dorchadas are staying out.

  “So how are you all managing?” said Lipperella, sharing a wide eyed look with Spark. “What has Mary been able do about it?”

  “The smallies are simply overwhelming,” said Ceidwad, shaking her head. “She's spent the last days of the Peppermint pouring her own magic into saving as many of the enchanted creatures there as she could, before they changed back to ordinary animals.”

  “But why?” said Spark. “How can they survive that way in the Chokewoods?”

  “You see the problem then?”

  “Not at all,” said Spark. “What's she doing besides keeping them enchanted? How's that helping them out?”

  “The smallies would indeed eat them outright. Mary is hiding in her cavern all the enchanted ones which she can possibly manage. She's been feeding and caring for them ever since she got back there from here.”

  “Well she's got a right big cave...”

  “For her,” said Lladdwr, “but by no means big enough for the scores upon scores she's trying to save. She's run out of space and she's exhausted her magic. She started putting her magic into the enchanted ones to save their intelligence, at least the ones who were frantic at the prospect of losing what they had. At first there was no problem, but then the mint owls, whose main prey was smallies, all suddenly changed back to being great grey owls, who are fierce enough as owls go, but have absolutely no appetite whatsoever for smallies. The moment that happened, the smallies came flooding in from the Chokewoods, mercilessly setting upon anything that walked or crawled. They were frantic for refuge in Mary's cave. So now with all her magic tied up, she can't keep up with the demands for feed, and the smallies are relentless at trying to get in. Sooner or later they will. For our part, Ceidwad and I narrowly escaped the cave with our lives when we came here. We can safely say that without help, Mary is doomed...”

  “Which will happen before we get back if there are too many delays,” said Ceidwad. For a moment, no one spoke. The chilly ocean breeze chased through the grass and rattled the small glossy leaves of the leaning oaks. “She needs your help. She thinks that enough dragons spitting fire might hold open a path long enough for her to escape the Chokewoods with her menagerie. She's hoping that the Elves will give them refuge in Jutwoods.”

  “Why not have all of us go in there and toast the whole lot? Smallies have meant nothing but fear, death and anguish since Razzorbauch turned them loose.”

  Ceidwad gave a sigh and shifted herself before fluffing her feathers and giving each wing a snap. “There's something fundamental about Nature here that seems to escape everyone but diatrymas,” she said. “I do not mean to sound arrogant, but the other intelligent species, particularly humans, have no grasp. It is not possible to eradicate another numerous species. One with utterly no morals can alter them perhaps, particularly with magic, and even change them forever, but all efforts to completely take out a numerous species will be nothing but a bad joke in the firmament of Nature's workings. There are an awful lot of smallies.”

  “But aren't there whole kinds who no longer walk the face of the earth? How about Mwyaf Fawr Llosg, you know, the Greatest Burning?”

  “I think this is what you don't grasp,” she said with polite patience. “Most of nature is profoundly logical without consciousness. Just being conscious does not make one profound. All of dragondom is not big enough. Now, I hate to be rude but Mary is in peril. Have we discussed this enough that...?”

  “Absolutely,” said Spark, springing to his feet. “I'm off to the council. I'm guessing that they'll agree at once to Mary's request. Meanwhile, please feel free to enjoy our hospitality and make yourselves at home. I'll be back immediately as soon as I know.”

  Ceidwad and Lladwr gave dignified nods as he dashed away, leaving them with sitting with Lipperella. At once Laora and Edward scurried forth and plopped down directly in front of them. Lipperella looked at Laora and raised an eyebrow. Laora looked at the grass. Bit by bit she began studying Ceidwad with rapt admiration. It was quite something to be recognized as 'pretty' by such a large and important bird. She saw something in the grass. “Got 'im!” she said, snapping up a vole. “Would you like half, Ceidwad? I'll split 'im with you.”

  “Oh, thank you sweetheart. Don't mind if I do.” she said, neatly snipping off and swallowing the squeaking end. “They're delicious.”

  “Edward doesn't like them, so I guess I get to share one with somebody.”

  “Well, he wouldn't dear. Humans like things like this cooked
...don't you, Edward?”

  Edward looked up from his piece of stick with a wary nod.

  “And you're very lucky, since you're able to do things I couldn't possibly manage...”

  “Like what?” said Laora with astonishment.

  “Well, you have hands on the wrists of your wings for one thing,” said Ceidwad. “so that means you could cook Edward a nice, fat vole...with your momma's help, of course. And not only that, you're going to be coming into your flame soon, and then you can toast 'em on the spot.”

  “Your...” hollered Spark, as he lunged into view, out of the cavern entrance, “Your request has been granted!” Everyone looked up as he hurried over to the grassy spot. “However, the council feels that it can spare none other than Tors and Kast and me, and that's only two thirds as good as you might think, since I can't spout fire!”

  “We're certainly most grateful for all the help we can get,” said Ceidwad, “but why are so few of you able to come?”

  “The clan's preparing to move us to the Black Desert and since our survival seems to be at stake, they're afraid to let go of very many,” he said, pulling a grass stem to chew on.

  “But you've been here above three hundred year,” said Ceidwad with wide eyes. “What has caused this?”

  “I reckon you and the White Witch haven't heard from Elves nor Niarg since your return, aye?”

  “Oh, oh!” said Ceidwad. “This has to do with Demonica in some way, doesn't it?”

  “Well, Spitemorta, to be exact...”

  “Actually,” said Lladdwr, “Mary had hoped you'd 'ave heard from the Elves, since the only safe place she could think to flee to with her enchanted ones was Jutwood Forest.”

  “I see,” said Spark. “Well, according to the Elves, Spitemorta and Demonica have convinced the people of Loxmere-Goll that we dragons carried out plans laid by Niarg and the Elves to set fire to all their sukere fields. Right now they're preparing for war with Niarg and the Elves. When you showed up, Tors, Kast and I were getting ready to leave for Niarg to see if taking the entire clan to the Black Desert is warranted. Meanwhile, the whole clan is being made ready for an immediate flight the moment we return. So, the council is sending the three of us to your aid before we go to Niarg, provided we set out immediately.”