Heart of the Staff - Complete Series

by Carol Marrs Phipps

  “I did indeed, but I'd like to avoid upsetting your brood.”

  At once the back of the chair came alive with preening, bouncing and bubbling chatter as Hubba Hubba addressed his family.

  Minuet fought back the urge to take Herio into her arms and beg him to change his mind. “You, my valiant guardian, are to come back to me unharmed,” she said fiercely.

  “I will, my Queen,” said Herio solemnly as he bowed low.

  When he stood, Minuet embraced him and kissed him on both cheeks. “You are a right brave young man, but you sally forth on a knight's errand,” she said. “Therefore, you must bear with you a knight's title. Kneel before me, Herio.”

  Astonishment flickered in his eyes as he knelt at once.

  Minuet drew Hebraun's sword, raised it before her and kissed the blade. She smiled, eyes brimming with tears as she placed the blade on first one, then the other of his shoulders. “Ymladd yn erbyn drwg...Ymladd dros Niarg...Ymladd dros rhinwedd, marchog,” she proclaimed. “Thou a royal knight of Niarg ybeoth. Ryst up, Sir Herio.”

  Herio stood at once. “You have honored me beyond my wildest dreams,” he said, looking at her in wonder. “I will not disappoint you.”

  “I know,” she said as she took Razzmorten's arm. “Now Father, please change Hubba Hubba so that these two brave souls may be on their way.”

  “Are you ready, Hubba Hubba?” he said.

  “You got it, Wiz,” said the satin crow looking up from amidst the scrambling brood and Pebbles. Suddenly all eyes went wide as Hubba Hubba ran his ebony beak down some flight feathers and gave himself a thorough shake. “Thanks, Wiz. Ready Sir

  Herio?”

  “Not without us!” squeaked Chirp, winging into the room with Tweet and Squeak in a flurry of wings.

  “At least for as far as we can make it by this evening,” tweeted Squeak.

  “Why that makes my morning!” cawed Hubba Hubba with a shake of his black ruff. “Let's go, shall we boys?”

  “Just a moment before you leave,” said Razzmorten. “Herio, Hubba Hubba, Chirp, Tweet and Squeak, this is a little something to bear in mind for the sake of everyone while you're off on this mission: no matter what happens, no matter how tempting, never ever peer into a skinweler.”

  ***

  “What's wrong, Lukus?” said Soraya, looking up with a start from nursing the twins. “Where were you?”

  “Look at...look at this,” he said with trouble in his eyes, as he handed her a message globe and began tramping distractedly about the room. “It just came from King Neron. He wants us to bring the twins to the palace at once.”

  Soraya quietly pulled up her bodice, rose and put both babies into one of the cradles before returning to the bed to stare warily at it for a moment. “Globe, what be your tidings?” she said.

  The globe glowed at once with swirls of light as the face of King Neron appeared.

  “Dearest Soraya and Lukas, I hate sending such bad news as this, particularly since you have just gotten moved, but you must beware.

  “Foul and frightening news has just arrived from Fen. You are in grave peril. You must bring the twins and your entire household and return to Oilean Gairdin this very hour. Do not jeopardize your lives with unnecessary packing and preparation. At all costs, do not be caught out after sunset. Stay on the main road. Danneth and Strom will meet you along the way with armed escort to see you here. Be alert for ambush, even in broad daylight.” The globe went dark and shot out the window like a hurled rock.

  Soraya and Lucas looked at each other with wide sober eyes. Without a word between them they knelt on each side of the cradle and removed the peacefully sleeping babies to their respective travel baskets. Soraya threw baby things into satchels and bags as Lucas stepped out to send for the coach and to alert the help.

  After just short of an hour, with each maid and orderly armed, mounted and quietly waiting, Lukus helped Soraya and the soundly sleeping twins into the coach and handed her her quiver and bow, kissed her dainty hand and climbed in beside her with his longbow and settled Gearr Teigh Sios across his lap before calling out: “All right!” to the driver.

  It was a sunny morning with a deep blue sky and hardly a breeze at all, with snow melting and gurgling in the ditches. The wheels busily cut into the wet white blanket, coming up muddy as the coach slammed from side to side, following the ruts. Doves called here and there throughout the timber. A parliament of crows abandoned the crown of a sycamore just ahead and pumped away, cawing. Soraya nestled her head into

  Lukus's shoulder but kept her eyes open, busily studying far away bits of recollection. Lukus closed his eyes as he took her hand and smelt of her delicate wrist. A woodpecker dropped from the side of a dead elm to fly off at a gallop.

  “Riders, yonder!” hollered the driver over the side after two hours of jostling and swaying.

  “It must be Strom and Danneth,” said Lukus as he leant out the door. “Lancers! They've got mounted lancers with them. I've not seen that.”

  “Well, we once trained volunteers,” said Soraya, sitting upright. “but Grandfather stopped thinking it necessary with King Hebraun keeping all the men of Niarg in practice.”

  “Hoy, Lukas!” called out Danneth from just ahead, as Strom rode up to Soraya's side.

  Lukus threw open the door and stood on the treadle as the coach rocked to a halt. “Strom and Danneth!” he cried. “We're right relieved to see you, though I'm yet to find out why. Can you all tell us what earthly danger sends us to Oilean Gairdin? Is it Spitemorta?”

  “It could be for all we know,” said Danneth. “In fact, I'd guess it is, but we don't really know what's going on ourselves. Great-Grandfather got us underway instead of taking time to tell us. Best to wait and hear it from him, but it's trolls. We know that much, and now you know it too. It gets muddier between here and home, so we'd better get cracking.”

  “Trolls!” yelped Lukas. “Do you think that there's any possibility that they're Jutish trolls? That one we tangled with was pretty bad.”

  “It was indeed,” said Strom, “but Jutish trolls never work in packs. These were Marfora Siofra, just like those that your father's army wiped out, which cooked and ate all of Dúradán Deanaigh...”

  “Which of course is why we're inclined to think Spitemorta was behind it,” said Danneth, “but as I said, we were sent out after you before we could find out.”

  “So what did they do, cook and eat Fen?”

  “At the very least” said Danneth.

  “Then what must we do to protect ourselves?” said Lukus with a sigh at the sight of Soraya's fearful look.

  “We start by getting our sweet masanna back to the palace before dusk,” said Danneth, gathering his reins and walking his unicorn down the road ahead of the team as Strom and his mount took up a position behind the coach.

  “Right,” said Lukus, taking his seat beside Soraya and slamming the door. “All right!” he called out to the driver.

  ***

  “Oilean Gairdin is down the road not above five furlong!” called out Danneth in the waning light of sunset.

  Lukus snapped to and removed his hat to rub his scalp and feel of the sore places from banging his head against the inside of the coach with every vigorous lurch throughout the long day. Soraya was nursing Ariel.

  “It's dusk,” he said, checking his weapons to make certain that they were handy.

  “And I've been hearing owls for quite some time,” she said.

  “So?”

  “It's not a good sign to hear them before dark when it's clear.”

  “You wouldn't be worried about omens, would you?”

  “Not at all. It just means that at least some night things are anxious enough to hunt without the cover of darkness. I've been watching very carefully for quite some time,” she said as he noticed the arrow which she had already set out beside her bow. “I see lights ahead,” she said as she carefully tucked Ariel into her travel basket. She sat back with her bow and nocked her arrow
.

  “I guess I'd have to step out with my longbow, he thought. It's much too big to use from inside.” He looked at the growing lights ahead and felt a wave of apprehension course through him as he realized that he could no longer make out what was in the brush along the edge of the woods. “Any minute now, she won't be able to tell, either,” he thought as he realized that he was nearly as frightened as he had been at times when he and Rose were out on their quest, years ago. He leant out the window and strained to see ahead. “It looks like someone is coming out to meet us,” he said.

  “Danneth sent ahead a messenger awhile ago when you were asleep.”

  “Good.”

  In moments, a thunder of hooves engulfed them like a rush of surf .

  “More lancers, a whole company of them!” cried Lukus. “Where would they have come from?”

  “Oh, they were trained years and years ago,” said Soraya. “There hasn't been any need for them to be called forth until now.”

  Soon they found themselves at Oilean Gairdin being escorted through the gates and over the submerged isthmus of Jutland Lake to the gate of the island of Oilean Gairdin (or Oilean Gairdin proper), and on to halt before the great door of Caislean Oilean Gairdin. At the sight of soldiers and armed guards everywhere, Lukus remembered the idyllic and peaceful place that Oilean Gairdin once was when he and Rose were first led there by Danneth, Strom and Jarund. He studied the front of the great rose quartz palace, lost in thought.

  “Well dear, aren't we getting out?” said Soraya.

  “I never did ask you if you knew anything about the front door,” he said without breaking his gaze. “It seems to be made of one gigantic plank. Was it made from the oak tree carved on the front of it?”

  “Well, that is indeed a great oak tree carved on the front of it,” she said as she lifted Ariel's travel basket into her lap. “It symbolizes our ties to our far distant cousins the Fairies, who had long lived here by the time we came. But the plank is from the Great Sacred Maidenhair tree which stood outside our ancestral castle in the Eternal Mountains of Lobhadh. It was well over three hundred feet tall, much larger than the maidenhair tree which stands outside of the palace here. Now, are you ready?” she giggled.

  Inside they were ushered to the great dining hall where two Elven fishermen with haunted looks about them sat before King Neron. “They've undoubtedly seen the trolls, by the look of 'em,” thought Lukus. But a baleful wave of fear surged through him at the sight of Neron, for instead of the vital and cheerfully gallant fellow he expected, he beheld the sunken eyes of an old man who had lost hope.

  ***

  “None of you mentioned Razorbauch,” said Lance uneasily as he hurriedly glanced about at each of the mothers' faces. “Longbark brought him up with me, so I assumed that she certainly must have done so with you all, but no one has said a thing about it, so it would not be fair if I didn't say...”

  “Yis, that ther ybe,” said Celeste as she leant over the table with her chin on her hands. “Ich that Razzorbauch Abaddones grete-grauntfadyr ybe in stede of Razzmorten ben na supprised in the leste.”

  Alvita paused to raise her eyebrows before cutting away the rotten half of an apple. Nacea gathered her brow and leant aside to fish for something in the basket at her side.

  “So, why would Demonica lie about it for all these years?”

  “She myghten never whoso the fader ben han knoweth, Lance. She Razzorbauches lovyere ben, after al, yit hit just as likly ybe that she al along ykneu and convenient for to lette Razzmorten bileven hee ben Ugleeuhes fader yfound hit, oones hee hadde the mistaken assumption that hee ben ymaad. What eve the dele may be, Longbark and ech of us for certeyn yknoweth, now that Abaddon hir braunche hath ytowchid.”

  “Well I believe you of course, but I don't understand at all. I find Longbark positively stunning, but how could she know about Razorbauch just from Abaddon touching her?”

  “Razzorbauch oones hir ytowchid,” said Celeste. “Hit was hee whoso heere didde hir moveth. Hit oon grete tribulacioun for hir ben, to. She hir levys yloste and went to slepe and wolde to us na spekith for sevene sesons and a day. Weo that she nas nat deed ykneu, for hir twigges plyebylle didde remayn, yit weo verray wyried weren. The instant Abaddon hir ytowchid, she bothe Razorbauches blode in hym and hise evyl aura aboute hym didde reconyse. And she konnen auras for to telle that thou nolt never seeth. O, she beyonde eny possible dowte knoweth.”

  “Is that why the little rhechen is such a stinker?”

  “May be.”

  “Do you reckon that will make him more powerful with magic than he would be if Razzmorten was his great-grandfather?”

  “Nat by no menes.”

  “But Mother, wasn't Razzorbauch far more powerful than Razzmorten? Razzmorten never did anything as big as the Chokewood Forest.”

  “Na, Lance. Hee never ony-thyng lyche unto the Herte and the Grete Staf didde welde. Bifore Razorbauch hise hondes on thos didde geten, hit Razzmorten whoso fer and wyde yknowen as the gretteste wysard of the age ben. Razorbauch better atte beynge evyl ben, if doynge that which Razmorten refuseden to done koude that hee ben atte hit better ymene. Mark thee wol that Razzmorten the Herte at hise dispose for a fewe yere didde haven and nat oones didde hit for to use.”

  “So I guess that if you all already knew this revelation about Razzorbauch, then you've decided to work with Abaddon in spite of it, aye?

  “Ich do bileve...” said Celeste as she traced the figure of the wood in the table top with her finger before propping her chin on her knuckles again to look Lance in the eye, “that oure chaunces aren what they bethe, as hit thynketh Longbark, in spyt of what Abaddones auncetrye may be. Bysidis, Razzmorten and Razzorbauch was bretheren, after al! Weo symply arne committed for to werken with what weo han.”

  “Of course, of course Mother,” said Lance with a sigh. “I guess I had the idea for a moment that you hadn't taken any of this into account and that when you did you might yet refuse. I beg your pardon. I should have known.”

  Nacea gave a deep nod, dropped a stitch and went on knitting, as Alvita picked up her pan of apples and left for the kitchen.

  Celeste came around the end of the table and planted a kiss atop his head the way she had done countless times when he was a child. “Ther nis no neede for to begge my pardon, Lance. Thou hast alwey pure of herte yben. Thy kyng a derre frende doth haven,” she said, giving him a sound hug. “Now ga a nappe byforn breke fast for to haven. Weo shal Rodon for to sende whan redy hit ybe.”

  ***

  “That sure smells better than the slop Rodon served me for supper last night!” said Abaddon as he appeared quietly in the doorway of the kitchen. “What is it?”

  “Oon of Lances grete delites,” said Alvita, as she stopped stirring to tap the lip of the kettle with her wooden spoon before replacing the lid, “apple cynamome mast gryttes. And eke egges, sawsyge, besquites, hony and al the boter and fruyt conserve thou koudest possibli ete weo doon haven.”

  “Well then,” said Abaddon, “that sounds acceptable. When do I eat?”

  “Hit now redy ybe. Als soon as Lance heere geten weo konne for to ete. Nacea hath al redy the bord yset. Thou coude beth redy by wasshynge thine hondes,” she said with a nod at the bucket and basin.

  Abaddon scowled as he picked up a cake of soap and dug at it with his thumbnail. “So where is Lance, anyway?” he said. “I haven't seen him since you all came back from that stupid old tree.”

  “Soo myssynge hym a bitte by now art thou, ey? Hit lyche thou myghtist moore aboute hym for to caren than thou lettynge on ybe, doth looke.”

  “No! He's a stinking criminal. It's just that he promised to teach me how to play chess. He said he had a board in his room. This place doesn't have much for a boy to do, you know. It's either him or Rodon.”

  “Ich declare! Lance for evere busy with oon thyng or a nothere doynge yben.”

  “Yea?” he said as he climbed onto the bench with a sullen look. “Well he wasn't a prince either, was
he?”

  Alvita turned away to hide her smile and the hope that suddenly twinkled in her eyes.

  Chapter 111

  Demonica gently set her scrying globe upon its silver stand beside her great chair. “Arabat Enez. It's good to be back in my keep,” she said with a resolute sigh as she planted her hands on her hips. “I wonder what sort of degenerate mischief I can catch Budog and Mazhev in the midst of this time? I guess I'll go see.” She paused to glance quickly about at her furnishings before stepping smartly forth, down the scarlet carpet runner and off the dais, heading for the dungeon. The moment she was beyond the end of the runner, the hall began ringing with the smack of her spool heels on the stones. “Ha,” she said, snapping her fingers to make her footfalls suddenly go as silent as the wing beats of an owl. “Good.”

  Down the stairs she swept, her scarlet robe fanning out to glide over the tops of the steps behind her. She flung her fingertips at the hinges of the dungeon door as she approached it, and it abruptly swung open in silence.

  “Well,” she said as she halted before two guards who sprang to their feet at the sight of her to begin bobbing and bowing. “Just who are you?”

  “Meriadeg, Lady...” said the first, dropping to his knees.

  “Yea, good for you. And you...?” she snapped as she turned to the other one.

  “Ninog, Intron Demonica,” he said, trembling. “Ninog I be...”

  “It's very good that you bowed before me, Meriadeg and Ninog. That's required if you wish to live long, but groveling positively disgusts me. You'll act like men if you're a mercenary in my service. And while we're at it, just who do you serve?”

  “Why you, Lady!” they chorused wide eyed, as they clambered to their feet.

  “I've been in your service for above twelve year...” said Ninog.

  “And I for fourteen...” said Meriadeg.

  “That says a lot for your paltry service in all that time, when I don't recognize either one of you. Budog and Mazhev should be in charge here. Have you any idea where they might be?”

  “Why...” said Ninog, working his dry mouth with no further sound.