“That would be wonderful. My glimpse left quite an impression on me.”
“Why dostow soun lyche thou art not al togidre certeyn aboute that, yonge man?” said Alvita, sitting forward with a squint.
“I'd truly enjoy seeing them again, Mother Alvita,” said Lance with a shrug, “I just wouldn't want Abaddon to spoil it.”
“Soooo,” said Nacea with a cock of her head as she leant across her knitting, “dostow thynke that hise mooder wol serchen for hym and perchaunce hym heere yfinden?”
Lance sat up straight. “I was hoping that if she did set out a search that this would be the last place she'd look,” he said, with a horrified expression.
“Alarme hym not, Alvita,” said Celeste with a sharp glance. “Thou knowest that the sheeldes maken hit inpossible eny oon for to entre this ketil lyst we cheesen hit soo.”
“Eny comyn oon,” snapped Alvita. “A powerful sorseress lyche unto Demonica or Queene Spitemorta symply myghte haven no probleme atte al.”
“Hadden they the Herte and the Staf and knew what they weren ylookynge for, perchaunce,” said Celeste with a shrug, “ootherwise Ich thynke nat.”
Alvita rolled her eyes but said nothing more.
“It's getting late Mothers,” said Lance with a yawn. “Could we possibly carry on with our discussion in the morning?”
“Certeynly,” said Celeste as Alvita and Nacea each gave a nod.
Lance rose and bowed with a grateful smile and strode into the lava tube just in time to catch a glimpse of Abaddon vanishing 'round a corner down the passage.
Abaddon ran for all he was worth until he was in his grotto panting for breath as he slipped into his nightshirt and pulled up the covers to his chin.
Lance considered running him down and giving him a good scolding, but yawned and thought better of it. The little hellion certainly wasn't going anywhere and he could give him a good wigging in the morning. He headed for the grotto that had been his ever since he had lived here as a boy.
***
“Certeynly yit seen that a chaunce ther ybe, that Demonica and hir evyl doughtres doughter haven yfounde the Herte and the Staf do yit not?” said Alvita, after Lance's footsteps faded away down the hall.
“Hit hath as a possibilite come to me,” said Celeste.
“And hath hit also come to thee as a possibilite that Abaddon al redy walketh out of reche in the Pitmaisteres shadwe?”
“That as wel hath my mynde ycrossed, derre suster. But considere this: what if we have the chaunce for to torne this derke child from hise path, smal thogh hit be, especiallye if Demonica and Queene Spitemorta swich power ywield? Can we not trye?”
Alvita's eyes softened. She looked down at her smooth gnarled hands and then met Celeste's eyes. “Ich fere that thou art righte. We moste ytrye. And if they haven yleyd hand to the Grete Herte and Staf, harrow and allas. Fates holpen us, for al be lorn.”
Chapter 106
The sound of the latch of the door of their berth woke Rose. She opened her eyes to see Fuzz coming quietly to the side of their bed.
“It's a perfect day, Rose,” he said with a smile as he knelt to put his arm around her and give her forehead a kiss. “Absolutely perfect. We may have had a storm last night, but it's not at all cold as one would expect it to be. It's plain balmy out, just like spring.”
“It probably means that there's more storm on its way,” she said, sitting up with a yawn.
“Oh I expect so, particularly since the wind is in the very same direction that it was in yesterday evening...”
“Did I just hear birds outside?” she said, suddenly alert.
“Terns. We've been helping the cook fling slop to 'em. They showed up right after the sun. I saw gulls, too. We're coming to land. The captain and Yann-Ber say that these winds will have us at Dark's Cove by noon or even before. So come up on deck with me and enjoy this last lovely bit of air and sunshine over the water before we land.”
“I think you just want my company.”
“Oh I crave it.”
“Well then, just give me a moment or two and I'll be right up.”
“Splendid,” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed. “I'll just wait for you right here though, if you don't mind. Yann-Ber's up there pacing and champing at the bit and worrying to the point that it's calmer here.”
“Even with my buttons?”
“Oh, I look forward to your buttons.”
“Then I'll have a row for you, directly,” she said, throwing aside her covers and putting her feet onto the floor. She felt the swell and fall of the sea through the boards as she always did the first time she stood up. She went to her great trunk, set on end and opened out like a folding wardrobe and fished amongst her dresses. “My,” she thought, “The same ones day in and day out.” She glanced aside at Fuzz, staring at the backs of his hands and grabbed out one at random. “I just can't keep my mind on anything since Lukus's message globe came with news of Father...”
Fuzz was on his feet at once, putting his arms around her. They each gave a sigh. It had all been said. She turned aside and stepped into her dress. She could read his concern as she did so, even from the corner of her eye. She offered him her row of buttons. He was getting quick. When he fastened her top button, he gave her a quick hug and released her to brush her hair.
“Sorry I took so long,” she said, looking up with a cheerful smile to cover up her somber sigh. “Shall we go?”
He nodded, following her out and up the cramped stair.
“Oh, it is nice out,” she said, taking his hand and squeezing it, as she closed her eyes and turned her face into the wind and sun. “You always know just what I need.”
“And you my dear, give me far more credit than I deserve. Nevertheless, I shall shamelessly romp and wallow in your praise if you must.”
Rose burst forth with a merry laugh as she took his arm and leant against the railing. “How could I ever manage without Fuzz?” she thought. “How would I ever manage in the face of all this viciousness of Spitemorta's without his being here for me? Spitemorta. Damn her!” She would not let thoughts of Spitemorta ruin these last moments at sea with Fuzz, particularly since this journey to the Dark Continent was all they would get for a honeymoon. “Oh,” she said with delight, as a bevy of snow white terns with black heads suddenly appeared, hovering just out of reach beyond the rail. “They're after a handout.”
“There's still a pail of fish heads over yonder,” said Fuzz. “I'll fetch it.” He was back with it at once. “Here,” he said, flinging a small head amongst the terns. Two dove after it at once, one of them snapping it up in the air just above the water. He held out the pail to Rose.
“I'll...just enjoy watching you,” she said, curling her lip. “They're already commencing to spoil.” She stepped back giggling as Fuzz broke into laughter throwing piece after piece of foul fish at the birds who broke into a flurry of furious graceful diving swoops, trying to catch each one.
“Look!” she cried, pointing out at dolphins surfacing just beyond where Fuzz's pieces of fish were peppering the water.
“Perfect!” cried Fuzz. “There couldn't be a better sign. Delphins, the very symbol of love, diligence and swiftness.”
“These over next to the hull, Fuzz. Listen! They're chirruping as excitedly as if they were trying to tell us something. Look at them stick up their heads...”
“But they are, dear.”
“You'd think they were intelligent, wouldn't you?”
“They're that, too,” said Fuzz as he set down his bucket to peer out over the side. “I've heard tell some interesting tales about delphins, Rose. They've actually saved people from drowning. And not only that, but they've led desperate fishermen to schools of fish and guided lost ships to land. They are the very best of omens.”
Rose went wide-eyed at this. “Then, perhaps they are indeed trying to speak with us,” she said, studying them intently. “I wonder what they might be saying?”
Fuzz drew her close wi
th a squeeze. “Oh, you can be certain that they're congratulating us on finding each other and wishing us a long and joyous life,” he said, kissing her on the forehead.
“Tell me about Yann-Ber,” she said, looking out at the horizon after the porpoises had vanished. “You said he was up here in a stew before you came down and got me. Is he having second thoughts now that he's almost home?”
“The prospect of facing his father might be demoralizing him...”
“I'd think so. The fellow did disown him after all. I think it might be a good idea for us to have a talk with him, Fuzz.”
“I knew you were going to say that...”
“You object?”
“Not at all. I only hesitated because up until now, I had been regarding the matter as part of his privacy.”
Rose already had him underway with her in search of Yann-Ber. They found him at once, heading their way. “Good morning!” she hailed.
“Right lovely morning, isn't it?” said Yann-Ber, steadying himself against the railing. “And I suppose you've noticed the birds? We'll be having a landfall within hours.”
“Does it make you anxious,” said Rose, “to see your father after all these years, I mean...?”
“That's right direct,” said Yann-Ber with a chuckle, as he suddenly straightened up. “So has Fuzz told you about the spectacle I've been making, pacing about in spite of all these boils?”
Rose sneaked a glance at Fuzz, only to be caught by Yann-Ber. “You have us totally undone, it seems,” she said. “We're your friends. We're all in this together. And you seem quite distressed, not to put too fine a point on it.”
“I've gotten far worse,” he said through watery eyes. “I've not seen a looking glass, but by feeling of my face, I'm certain that I've grown unrecognizable to those who once knew me, particularly to my own father, who could only be expected to remember me as an unblemished young man. So how am I to present myself to him? I could be anyone. How am I to be allowed within his presence?”
“That does sound difficult,” said Rose, “but surely your own kin would recognize you. You grew up amongst them, didn't you?”
“Oh, I suppose that visiting with them would eventually reveal recollections that only I could possibly have, but that's if I were allowed close enough to do so. No one will recognize me on sight. I ceased to recognize my own reflection long before I got this bad.”
“But there must be something we can do,” said Rose. “We can't have traveled all this way for nothing.”
“I see no problem,” said Fuzz. “Let's not forget that we are royal emissaries of Niarg. Rose is even royalty. Surely we can introduce you.”
***
James kicked around through the straw on the dungeon floor, trying to find his blanket. He wasn't finding it at all and he was roiling up a choking fetid dust. “Dang it! I swear it ought to be right here.” He stumbled over his porridge bowl, sending it clattering into the wall. “How on earth did I get turned clean around?” He dropped to his knees and then onto his hands. He bumped into the wall that the bowl had bounced off of. He felt of it for a moment, getting his bearings. He turned directly away from it, crawling carefully through the straw. “Phew! They must've had someone die in here and rot away to dust, by the way it smells. It just won't stop stinking... Here! Here it Is.” He reared up on his knees and fumbled with the blanket, spreading it out over the straw. He rolled to one side, trying to sit and let out a yelp from a stabbing pain in his spine, just above his hips. He tumbled onto his elbow and lay on his side. “Man that hurts,” he said as he squirmed about, trying to find a comfortable position to lie in. “Well, at least everything still works.
I may have catches in my back, but at least I have the use of my limbs and I can still walk. It'd be nice to have all the feeling back in my hand, though.”
He lay there wishing he could simply go to sleep, but he had already slept so much that with all of the lice and fleas, there was no way that he could possibly lie still enough to manage. Wakefulness was getting to be a kind of torment. “It must be daytime, since they brought my porridge not long ago,” he said as he switched from scratching his thigh to scratching his neck. “Surely they wouldn't feed me in the middle of the night. They could sure feed me more.” Then he remembered having to relieve himself in the corner that he had found on his hands and knees which smelt more like excrement than rotted carcass. “Oh, maybe not.”
At the sound of footfalls pausing just outside, he held his breath. An orange light from the torch outside raced back and forth across the ceiling. With a jingle of keys and an irony groan of hinges, the door was flung wide, brightening the cell with a flood of wavering, dancing shadows. A young familiar looking guard stepped in.
“Where should I set this, Your Majesty?” he said as he struggled to manage a well laden tray of food and the torch at the same time.
“Right at your feet or right here. There's not a stick of furniture to be had...”
“Well Your Majesty, I've brought you'ns a little something, a noontime repast, ye might say...”
“Noon then, aye? Well I'm very much obliged. Now, I have the impression that I've not been fed more than once a day so far, so how is it that I'm thought of more kindly today?”
The young knave cast a furtive glance at the black hallway and squatted quickly with the tray. “Some of us,” he said, dropping to a hushed murmur as he leant toward James, “I mean, a whole bunch of us don't hold with what the queen's doing to you, Your Majesty. We've got the idea that if it had been up to you, we'd never 'ave got massacred at Ash Fork. Well anyway, we allowed as how it was the least we could do to see that you'ns got a bit of kind treatment, if ye know what I mean. And if you don't mind my saying so, Your Majesty, you look like you've been stretched over a rack.”
James threw back his head with laughter that rang out along the stone passages of the dungeon. “I do so beg your pardon, my good fellow,” he said, dragging his eye along the back of his hand. “The joke on the matter is that that's exactly what they were doing to me before they threw me in here. Oh, but make no mistake about it, I'm right grateful for your kindness. I am far more touched and grateful than you could ever possibly imagine. I also fear that you're taking an incredibly dangerous risk by being good to me. Should the queen or any of her minions find out, it would go very bad for you. Therefore, even though I accept this meal with more gratitude than I've ever felt for anything in my life, I suggest that you and your friends quit taking risks. I'm here because of my stupidity. The last thing I want to do is to cause good fellows like you to suffer on my behalf.”
“With all due respect, sire, I'll not have it that you're stupid. You're our king. We consider it an honor to serve you, though begging Your Majesty's pardon, not your queen. And it was she as did the actual stretching, wasn't she?”
James raised his eyebrows with a nod.
“I'm going sire,” said the guard, standing up smartly, “but I'm going to disobey you because I'll be back right soon. We mean to get you out of here, and we're a-comin' for ye the minute we figure out how it's to be done.” And with that, he quietly stepped out, closing the cell door.
James stared at the last flickers of the torch on the bars in the door as the guard's steps faded away. “My! Am I actually going to get out of here?” he said, feeling of his tray. “Oh my! I might not manage if I get my hopes up. Spitemorta and Demonica could very easily get him, like as not. I'd best accept my doom for now. I knew this might happen when I didn't go with Abaddon. I was just stupid. “And Abaddon. I wonder where Lance managed to get to with him?” he said as he uncovered his meal of roast beef, squash and cabbage and grabbed up a huge piece of bread, still warm from the oven.
“Oh my, my! After a taste of food like this, my expectations are simply going to torment me.”
***
Lance stretched and yawned from within the fluffy snugness of his down quilts and feather mattress. He lay on his back, studying the familiar whitewashed ceiling of his be
droom grotto. He had always slept well here. “Well on with it,” he said, flinging aside the covers. He donned his wool shirt at the edge of the bed, trotted across the room for his hose and breeches, back to the bedside for his doublet, then across the room again for his boots. “Just as I used to,” he said, as he paused to button his doublet before scurrying out to find breakfast.
Celeste, Nacea and Alvita were seated at the board waiting, as though they had known exactly when he was coming. They each looked up and smiled as he entered. Celeste gave a grand nod at his seat as Alvita rose and began setting covered dishes from the sideboard onto the table.
He spooned out a dollop of strawberry jam onto his steaming piece of acorn bread. “Oh fie!” he said, setting his treat onto his saucer and rising from his seat. “We've started without Abaddon.”
“The boye kan to wayten,” said Nacea, nodding for him to keep his seat. “Hee moste wery from yunker journe beth, and eke hit certeynly a favore unto us al ybe if hee a litel more slepe to geten and soon ther-after risen for to ete. Now, breke thy fast. Thou moste for to dele with hym soon ynogh.”
“Nacea!” said Celeste. “As myghte thinketh oon by thy tone that thou sharest not the committenhede for to holpe the boye.”
Nacea raised her eyebrows and snorted, making no reply.
Alvita caught Lance's eye, but made no remark, either.
“Ich thoghte that this was yester-even ysette,” said Celeste as she planted her fists on her hips and looked at everyone.
“And in dede hit was,” said Nacea, “but thou knowest as wel as wit that the verray evyl whiche holdeth us thrall heere in Bedd Chwiorydd Tair doth the boye ytaynt. We in dede committed ybe, but whoso knoweth where-to hit wol ga whan we byginne.”
“Then thou wouldst not have us to forsaken this under-takynge?” said Celeste. “We mosten in dede al committed ybe.”
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 117