“That is what that means, Edward. How long ago did she tell you?”
“Oh, a long, long time ago, like maybe not quite a year ago,” he said with a shrug.
“I think he's sorry he didn't let Momma stay with him, don't you Mary? I'll bet he doesn't even know she's dead, either.”
“Oh, I'm sure you are right, but what made you think that?”
“I think King Theran looked all faded out, like somebody who's lost everything that matters. I've felt like that before, Mary, so I think I know what it would look like in an old man.”
“My, Edward,” she said, going wide eyed “I do believe you are the most astute young man I've ever met. But, please try not to grow up too fast.”
“Well, it's pretty easy to know how feelings like that are when you have them,” he said, dropping his gaze to watch his toes as he walked. “But then...” he said, suddenly stepping sideways to throw his arms around Laora's neck, “whenever I feel that way, my best friend in the whole world helps me. I'm very lucky.”
“Indeed, you are,” said Mary as she stopped the pair of them to hug them both.
“Thank you for telling me all of that, Edward. I'm sure it wasn't easy for you.”
“It wasn't, but it made me feel better.”
“I'm glad,” she said, ruffling his hair as she stood up. “And you know what?”
Edward shook his head.
“I feel better too.”
“That's because you're wonderful, Aunt Mary.”
***
They arrived in the Jutwoods two days later and in Oilean Gairdin the morning of the day after that. The Elves were gracious and most accommodating. Even though Neron was away in Niarg, they enthusiastically devised a permanent preserve for the Peppermint refugees on a generous piece of land. It was an altogether lovely place, but Mary couldn't shake the feeling that it was artificial. The Elves hastened to lay out a small sukere plantation for the refugees, so that it would not require quite so much magic to maintain them. With a steady supply of sukere cana, they would feel more comfortable and could be eased into their new life.
“Of course,” said Neron's cousin, Tristan, “in due time they'll simply have to be weaned off the stuff. It is terribly unhealthy for anyone but dragons, you know, even if they were altered just to eat it.”
A week later, Mary, Spark, Edward and Laora, Tors and Kast bid the Elves and the Peppermint refugees farewell and continued their journey north for Niarg. After four hard days of travel and coping with innumerable werebeasts, a trio of trolls and obnoxious behavior from people in various hamlets, particularly throughout Loxmere where people were either wary or hostile, they came at last to the grounds of Castle Niarg.
Hubba Hubba spotted them as they passed through the orchard. “Hey Spark,” he squawked as he dropped out of an utterly bare apple tree onto Spark's back. “What're you doin' here, you bloated old lizard?”
“Hey, you green seed buzzard. I'm just as warm blooded as you.”
“Really,” said Hubba Hubba as he hopped over to Mary's shoulder to better address Spark. “How've ye been? Ye didn't have any run-ins with the old witches on your way here, did ye?”
“No, but we had trouble with just about everyone else.”
“Really? Sounds interesting. I can't wait for the details.”
Spark nodded. “Same old Hubba Hubba. You still love gossip, don't you?”
“Hey!” cried Hubba Hubba with a wounded tone. “It's my civic duty to get the news. I have nothing to do with gossip.”
“Glad you cleared that up for us. “So how is everyone?”
“You should 'ave been here a couple weeks ago for Fuzz and Rose's wedding. It was quite somethin'.”
“I'm sure it was,” said Spark with a glance at Edward, who was listening carefully.
“So what else is new?”
“Well, Lukus is here with his new family, but they're about ready to go back to the Jutwoods. Yann-Ber still has boils all over, and Razzmorten doesn't have his strength back. I think he's getting the idea that he's lost some of his powers for good, just between you, me and the bed post.”
“Are you serious?” said Spark, looking alarmed. “Did he actually tell you that?”
“Yea, he really sort o' said so, you know, like it was a trivial matter or somethin', like porridge down 'is front, maybe.”
Spark puckered up silently, as though he'd just cut himself and looked at Mary.
“Any bigger news than that?” he said, getting his bearings.
“Maybe. At least there's lots more of it, anyway,” he said as he checked each wing and gave himself a thorough shake. “Well. Since the Wiz is runnin' out of power, maybe it's kindest to let him be the one to fill you ones in, if ye know what I mean.”
“He's never been that vain, Hubba Hubba,” said Spark, looking puckishly askance. “You're just struggling to control your over-active beak.”
“Hey thanks, lizard-lips. Got 'o go warn 'em,” he said, springing into flight. “See ye directly.”
The party traded looks and sighs before resuming their way along the lane into the castle gardens. The late morning sun came out briefly, kindling mutterings of wee whistles from the white crowned sparrows and juncos scratching and fluttering amongst the crisp brown windrow of leaves along the hedge. The sun faded away into the wooly grey morning as Mary, Spark, Edward and Laora, Tors and Kast crunched and scuffled their way around the hedge to see Lukus and Razzmozrten waiting at the castle.
“Hoy, Spark!” called Lukus. “We didn't expect to see you so soon! What's going on?”
“Something big, Lukus,” said Spark with a greeting nod before he had quite come to a stop, “and we reckoned we'd better come here and find out what it was.” He turned to Razzmorten. “How are you?”
“I'm still standin' without crutches.”
“Well I'm afraid your message globe and no further news has the clan fairly roiled up. And from the reception we've had from folks all the way here, I'd say our fears are right well placed.”
“Bad to worse,” said Lukus with a nod and no trace of a smile. “And overnight, it seems. But please, please. We're delighted that you came. Come right in. There's meat and drink aplenty. After you've recovered from your long walk, we'll have all kinds of time for woes.”
And with that, everyone went inside.
***
“And that's what we think we know,” said Razzmorten, busily picking up the steaming pickled cabbage from the cavity of the roast duck on his platter with his brown bread and knife. “War with Loxmere-Goll, plain and simple. It's only a matter of when.”
“Yea...” said Spark with a thoughtful chew. “And you've heard nothing more from James since his retainer tried to give you the odd crystal?”
“No,” said Minuet, shaking her head. “And actually, we'd just as soon it stayed that way. There's just no way to tell if he's telling us the truth, or if he's baiting us for Spitemorta. Either way, it scares us, having anything at all to do with him.”
“You're right, of course,” said Mary. “Even if he's square and true, it would only be a matter of time until Demonica and Spitemorta caught on and things got very ugly.”
“Still,” said Tors as he knitted his brow and swirled his cider, “it seems like it might be useful to have eyes and ears in Goll.”
“We've never before stooped to spying,” said Hebraun as his eyes narrowed, “but the way things are, we're considering it. It's a matter of survival. We just haven't worked out the details.”
“Well then, here it is,” said Spark, following the contours of his platter with his bread. “Our most urgent concern, the very thing that got me sent here by the council is: do you think it would be safe for us to remain at the Dragon Caves?”
Hebraun exchanged a look with Neron, then slowly shook his head. “No, I don't. The caves have been your home for a long time, but they're going to come get you. We have no clue as to why, but they've spent 'way too much time setting you up, not to. There really
isn't any escape out of there except the front entrance, is there?”
“Actually there are several other exits,” said Kast, “but you're completely correct if you're saying that we'd be trapped if some big army showed up.”
“Then you have no choice but to get out of there immediately,” said Hebraun with a huge sigh. “Do you have a place to go?”
“We're thinking about the Black Desert,” said Spark. “There's a much larger cave system there, and it would be altogether easier to defend...”
“Demonica and Spitemorta have all of Loxmere-Goll screaming for vengeance, Spark,” said Hebraun. “I'd get out until all of this has blown over.”
“I guess we were just hoping we were wrong, you know,” said Spark, plumping against the back of his chair with a sigh. “How long do you reckon it will take for things to blow over?”
“If you believe in prophesy, quite a while,” said Lukus.
“And what if I don't?”
“Then, with things as they are, a damned long while.”
***
Hubba Hubba flew in through the window and landed on the Razzmorten's hat, hopped onto his shoulder, flew around Minuet's head close enough to make her close her eyes, then landed on Lukus's knee to immediately spring back into flight to land once again on Razzmorten, where he preened and flitted restlessly as he pretended to be interested in the conversation.
“Very well, Hubba Hubba,” said Minuet spearing him with her shrewd brown eyes. “You have our attention, even though our conversation was extremely important. What is it?”
“No,” said Hubba Hubba. “Really. It can wait until y'all 'ave finished discussing the end of the world as we know it and the eventual reign of evil. Really.”
“All right,” she said, sternly. “Then by all means excuse yourself and leave until we're finished. Go.”
“Well...” said Hubba Hubba looking crushed, “I reckon I'll be going then. I'll just fly on out then and stuff.”
“Oh, Hubba Hubba. What is it? I'm sorry, but you asked for it. This is a grave discussion, and you're usually a good contributor in such things.”
“Hey. Now you got me feelin' guilty all over the place about sharing the beauty and excitement in my very life, like my personal joys are too trifling to be worked into the...”
“What is it?”
“Hey, I'm feeling rejected here...”
“Hubba Hubba. We're all sitting here listening, bird brain,” said Lukus.
“Hey snot, you were pretty worked up when Soraya finished layin' your clutch of two. Pebbles just got through layin' her ninth and final egg.”
“That's marvelous,” said Lukus.
“No kidding,” said Hubba Hubba. Then he suddenly drooped. “But what if they aren't fledged by the time the witches make their move against Niarg?”
“I know what you mean, my bird. I know just what you mean.”
***
“I wish you didn't have to leave so soon,” said Minuet as she hugged Soraya and Lukus as they carefully fit themselves and Ariel and Daniel's travel baskets into the coach.
“So do we,” said Lukus, “but we'll be back soon, and you can always come and see us.”
Rose looked on from the side. She knew he was keeping the farewell light, but what else could he say? Minuet knew. Everyone knew. “Cruel how it is,” she thought. “Every one of us can hate something, and yet we all hang our heads and go through it anyway because none of us have the wits to come up with anything else.” She glanced at Fuzz as he squeezed her hand with a sad look. And before any of them were quite ready the coach pulled away with a jolt. Hebraun took Minuet into his arms.
Fuzz lead Rose back to the castle. “Too many goodbyes,” she thought. “Yesterday it was Edward, Mary and the dragons. Even Taflu flew back to Fuzz' den.” She studied Fuzz and wondered if he regretted returning to Niarg with her. She knew how much he loved that old cave of his. “I 'spose you must miss your den...” she said.
“What ever are you talking about?” he said as he put his arm around her. “I could never be happy there now without you. Is that what you want to know? Someday let's visit there. For now, let's be happy with what we have.”
“Yes. Enjoy it while we have it, I reckon. Everything seems to be passing away.”
“That's morose, dear. Let's just call it a time of upheaval and change.”
“Is there a difference?”
Fuzz shrugged. “I suppose only in point of view, but sometimes that's all you have. Sometimes it's what it takes.”
Chapter 100
“You seem uncertain to me, Captain,” said Spitemorta as she studied Brutus's image, standing in her skinweler, “or do I misread you?”
“I'm not sure that I understand, Majesty,” he said, shifting to the other foot.
“You merely needed to give me a simple yes or no, Captain. So let's try it again. Are your troops ready to engage the enemy or not?”
Brutus swallowed. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he said, snapping to rigid attention.
“Yes what, Captain?” she said, making a face. “Do you mean, 'yes, you finally understand what I'm saying,' or, 'yes, your troops are battle ready?'“
“Yes to both, actually, Your Majesty.”
Spitemorta studied him with a moment's silent contempt. “Then you'll move out with your army at first light, tomorrow,” she said with a resolute nod. “Take them north along the west side of the Loxmere River until you come to the mouth of the Gold River. Divide your troops there. Send half of them up the west bank of the Gold until they are adjacent to Ash Fork. Take the other half and cross the Gold just west of its mouth and go straight across country to just north-east of Ash Fork. Then, the first half should cross the Gold and attack Ash Fork from the south-west, while your second half comes in and attacks from the north-east. Burn it to the ground, Captain. Leave no one alive. Considering its name, that's a most appropriate fate, wouldn't you agree?”
Brutus nodded, but appeared to avoid her eyes.
“If you have a problem with your assignment, I'm sure Captain Boar would be delighted to take over your duties and lead the army to glory.”
“No, your Majesty,” he said, suddenly wide-eyed. “I've had no objection to anything you've requested. I will execute everything you want to the absolute letter.”
“Good. See that you do, but remember one thing, Captain.”
“Anything.”
“I don't make requests, I give orders.”
“Absolutely. It was only intended as a polite reference...”
“Do not forget that I'm your queen and that I require more respect than that.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Now Captain, our main objective in destroying Ash Fork is to send a challenge to King Hebraun that he will respond to himself. He has promised his citizens for years that if Niarg were ever to go to war, he would personally lead them into battle. You must make certain that he is indeed the one who leads the troops which respond to your attack on Ash Fork.
“How?”
“I don't care how. That's your job. Just don't fail to get Hebraun himself to lead his troops to Ash Fork so that you can smash him. And Captain, make certain that you take your skinweler with you and keep it handy at all times. I want to stay in constant touch. I will be bringing a small mercenary flotilla up the Loxmere River to Ash Lake. We'll rendezvous with you in due time.”
“Shall I wait somewhere for you?”
“No. That's one of the reasons for the skinweler. I'll find you when the time is right. Until then, you have your orders.”
“You will not be disappointed, Majesty,” said Brutus as he thumped his chest and took a bow.
“I expect you not to, Captain,” she said as her image quickly faded out. She blew away a stray lock of hair as she set aside the skinweler. How glad she would be to stop having to be a troll. “I can't wait to see Abaddon and tell him that he'll soon have a sibling to play with,” she said with a smile as she rose from her bed and stepped ou
t to rejoin Demonica and to address her trolls once more. “At least it will be Loxmere-Gollians instead of trolls as soon as we vanquish Niarg and the Elves and enslave the dragons.”
***
Yann-Ber took the chair which was brought for him and sat beside Razzmorten, facing Hebraun and Minuet. He studied the backs of his hands as he waited for a maid to position a foot warmer full of fresh coals from the one of the throne room's fireplaces under Minuet's feet. Rose and Fuzz appeared and quietly took seats nearby. Presently Minuet was settled and looked up with a smile.
“Your Majesties,” said Yann-Ber, “I'm here to announce that I will be sailing for my home in Head in the morning.”
Minuet gasped as she and Hebraun gave looks of surprise. “Razzmorten and I have discussed this at length,” he said, raising his hand, “and he says that the more time that goes by without his powers returning, the less likely they are to return.” He paused at the look of alarm in Minuet's eyes, but quickly continued: “As you well know, unless the good wizard regains his accustomed powers to their former extent, it will remain beyond his ability to remove my curse. In the meantime, I shall merely languish and grow weaker. Indeed it now appears that I must accept the inevitable and make the most of what little time I have left.
“I appreciate everything that you all have done for me, and I especially appreciate the things which you all tried to do for me that were beyond what is possible. The kindness you've given me exceeds any I've experienced in my life. However on my voyage to your fair land, I vowed to see to Demonica's fall before my own, and I can't do that if I remain here, waiting for something that stands a good chance of never happening.”
“We do understand, Yann-Ber,” said Hebraun, sitting forward earnestly, “but, surely you could be persuaded to wait just a bit longer? I'm not at all satisfied that Razzmorten's had enough time back from his journey to catch up on his rest, let alone his powers. After all, he's been up until the wee hours practically every night since his return. And if he were to remove your horrid curse, you'd fare far better, taking on Demonica, wouldn't you?”
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 109