“Well it should be, your Majesty, but there are problems, and you have obliged me to advise.”
Spitemorta drew a breath to shout, but stopped short. “What then?” she said with the flash of a completely misplaced smile.
“Loxmere's a long way to march without problems and delays for an army without a single man amongst them who's ever been that way before. It may be a little longer to come here first, but at least they've been this way before, so delays are unlikely, for one thing,” he said as he unrolled a map of the continent on top of the castle drawings, spread across the table.
Spitemorta drew another breath.
Coel raised his finger. “And,” he said quickly, “I can be using the time it takes them on their way here to study some of the terrain up north. For example, what's the lay of the land like around the castle at Boneshire? What do we need to do to take them by surprise? In fact, why don't you let us march to Boneshire from here instead of having us waste all the time it would take by going to Loxmere first?”
Spitemorta was drawing yet another breath when the guard with the herbs stopped her with a knock on the door. “All right, all right,” she said as Coel put the parcel of herbs on the table and cut the string. “We'll do it your way, then. But it just might mean your head if your suggestion turns out stupid.”
“It won't.”
“Eew! What is that thing?”
“I think that's a ginger root.”
“I can't steep that.”
“Let me shave off some very thin slices...”
“Where's that cup you were pestering me with?”
“Here.”
“What were you doing, trying to serve me tea in a cracked cup with no ear?”
“Minding my manners...”
“Yea. Cracked and inadequate.”
Coel could plainly see that she was not being playful.
“Put water in it,” she said. “Got a strainer?”
She filled the strainer with Coel's pile of ginger shavings along with a good pinch of the horehound and the other herbs and passed her hand over the cup.
“My!” said Coel at the sight of the water in the cup starting to boil.
“One of the last tricks Demonica showed me,” she said. She began studying the images appearing out of the swirling colors in her skinweler as she sipped at her tea. “Odd that I don't see anybody at the castle.” She drained her cup, rolled the ball back into her bag, shouldered it, picked up the Staff and vanished.
“Damn!” said Coel.
She stumbled into the bright light of a sunny sky over the ruins of Castle Goll. “Well,” she said as she looked about. “I feel fine. Damn you Grandmother! I could have been using spells long ago. Odd that I don't see a soul. But I see smoke 'way over yonder. Has there been another fire?” She got astride the Staff and took to the air to go see.
In short order she saw that the smoke was coming from the smoldering ruins of the Great Coxwell Ysgubor. Circling overhead, she saw mercenary army and regulars dragging things out of the ashes and finally spied Cunedda off to the side of the milling soldiers. She settled down directly in front of him and stepped off the Staff.
“Your Majesty!” he said, bowing immediately.
“I've not yet seen a single prisoner,” she said, walking right up to him. “What's happened here?”
“I didn't know they had any army out and about at all,” he said, looking very pale and blanched behind the smudge of ashes on his face. “I'd allowed we'd captured or killed every one of them, outside of the prisoners.”
“Who? Niarg?”
“They took us by surprise two nights ago. They set alight gonne powder along the entire east wall. They killed every single unicorn we had...”
“So where are the prisoners?”
“They got every last one...”
“Where's Bernard?”
“They got him, too.”
“How?”
Cunedda shifted from foot to foot, unable to put anything into words. When he shook his head, it went off with a thump like a heavy firework, crackling in echoes off all the buildings 'round about, as his body collapsed in a purple cascade of ashes.
“Stinking cachu!” said Spitemorta as she lowered the Staff.
Everything fell dead silent except for a barking dog across town, as every eye up and down the smoldering foundation of the great barn looked right at her.
“Who is the ranking officer here now?” she called out.
There was not a sound. She planted a fist on her hip.
“I reckon that would be me, Your Majesty!” called out a young officer as he made his way toward her from the far end of the barn.
She raised her chin, watching him approach. A few feet away, he stopped short and gave a hurried and awkward bow.
“And you are?”
“Captain Nist, Your Majesty. Captain Budie Nist.”
“Army of Gwael?”
“At your service...” he said.
Spitemorta threw back her head with a laugh before stopping short to fix a cold gaze upon him. “I want you to take every single regular and every single mercenary to Castle Niarg immediately. Do you know the way?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then I'll expect your arrival in no less than a fortnight. And Captain.”
“Your Majesty?”
“I expect you to have every last one of these soldiers with you. If you lose even one, you will join General Cunedda in the Pit. Understood?”
“Absolutely,” he said.
“Move,” she said. “Now!”
Spitemorta watched him hurry away, giving out urgent orders here and there as he went. After a time, she stepped into the shadows, took out her skinweler and went to Demonica's keep in Head.
Captain Budie Nist was a young soldier with a lot of fire. By nightfall, he had every single Gwael camped in the waving grass, twenty-five miles north-west of Castlegoll. However, as soon as everyone was bivouacked, he left strict orders for all the mercenaries to go on to Niarg and vanished into the countryside with every single one of the one hundred and ninety-seven Gwaelian regulars.
Chapter 167
Margey Eeast, meaning “Fish Market” in Gwaelic Elven, was nothing but a rambling thatched one storey sod building filled with salt water tanks and storage rooms flanking a dressing and filleting room, perched on a rise in the marram grass huddled with two cottages, a forest of drying racks and several outdoor salt water tanks, overlooking the beach of Camys Margey Eeast. Away down the broad beach under the lowering grey sky came Rose and Inney, sauntering arm in arm, as a pair of dunlins trotted ahead of them in the ebbing surf, darting after snails.
“Sheshey and I really wish we were going with you, Rose,” said Inney with a watery sniffle. “Now we'll never get to see you and Fuzz. I so wanted to help take care of the wee babban girl.” Suddenly she was sobbing into Rose's bodice.
“Oh sweetheart,” said Rose as her own eyes filled with tears. “I think you're the best young friend I've ever had, but we suddenly realized that we simply must go home. We just can't stay. Listen. When I see Lukus and Soraya, I'll see if one of their message globes could make it all the way here. If it can, I'll show you the new baby. I don't see why it won't work. How would that be?”
“People really move around inside those little balls?”
“It certainly looks like they do. It's almost scary. It's too bad the Elves didn't have them a thousand years ago, when Faragher sailed to Mooar-Rheynn Twoaie. Then you all could've known everyone was safe on each side of the sea.”
Rose and Inney meandered into and out of the grey surf, following the two dunlins who were still the same distance ahead, as if they had waited for them to dry their eyes and catch up. “Look at everyone going down the pier to the quay,” said Rose, giving Inney's hand a squeeze. “We'd better trot.”
“Ay!” hollered a boy wearing a tar tail as he came running. “Ye! Captain Voiles...!” He smacked his feet to a wet stop, heaving to catch his breath.
“Captain... Captain Voiles is already cu'sing out you all. He's going to haul off and weigh anchor without you, if ye don't hurry.”
“Damn you two horys!” shouted Captain Voiles as he smacked the railing of the Marner Medhow, at the sight of them on the run. He wheeled aside. “And you all, coming up the plank! I'll not have your feathered beasts running amok and upsetting my crew.”
“One of those two horys, Captain...” said Olloo as he and Roseen stepped aboard with Baase and Caggey on their heels, “Captain, that taller hora down yonder happens to be the very princess who is paying you that handsome purse for our passage...”
“I'm going on below, Olloo,” said Roseen, patting him on the arm.
Just at that moment, Ennoil shot ahead of Obbree, who was coming up the plank, shoving by the red faced Voiles, making him catch his balance.
“Your bird, Elf, needs a tether,” barked Voiles as he blocked Obbree's way, “or maybe he shouldn't be onboard.”
“Our birds,” said Olloo, stepping into his gaze, “are much better behaved than the people I seem to be seeing aboard this ship. If you have a problem with Obbree's bird or our whoresome princess, we'll be right pleased to find passage on the next fishing vessel.”
“Begging your pardon, Mister Olloo,” sputtered Voiles as his ruddy complexion deepened. “We're merely anxious to get everyone settled, and I regret that I'm not used to anyone but marners, you know, sailors on board. We'll get along all right. Now your beasty birds, they just eat trolls, right?”
“And drunken humans,” said Olloo, innocently enough.
“Understood, Mister Olloo. There's not a drop of sukee for anyone onboard the Marner Medhow, as I have already explained. That's what has everyone of us on edge. We were expecting to be drinking it in less than two weeks, not sailing into the west for who knows how long...”
“And of course there's none in your cabin,” said Olloo with an encouraging nod.
“I already told you I never sail with it. I go through the shakes every night for the first two weeks out so that it never gets me lost at sea. Even so, no one ever gets over it, so I warn you that the men will be jumpy until they face having a long voyage west...”
“No problem,” said Olloo, “As you can see, we have the birds.” He gave a grand wave to Rose, Fuzz and Karl-Veur who were staggering about with laughter at the sight of Carrey, Sidoor and Coady as Sidoor yanked a beakful of feathers out of a dozing pelican, scaring him off his guano plastered pile with a stumbling lunge into the air.
Voiles gave a bristly nod as he turned aside and walked quickly away.
“I've got the feeling it's going to take me quite a spell to get used to this boat,” said Obbree. “You know there are rumors about Voiles having a go at piracy on occasion. Maybe I just don't have my usual nerve, a-floating on the water, but I wouldn't put it entirely past them to slit our throats and keep the jewels, Olloo.”
Olloo drew a deep breath, glancing about at the crew. “We do have our bond mates. But I think we might need to sleep with one eye open,” he said.
“Shouldn't we take turns guarding Rose and them?”
“We'll see,” said Olloo. “Maybe I should have waited for Captain Binion or Nevitt after all.”
“Fiddlesticks,” said Obbree. “There wouldn't have been space aboard their piddly little fishing cogs. The Marner Medhow is the only big caravel trader that ever comes to Camys Margey Eeast, so I agreed with your choice. This way, we get proper berths and stalls. Besides, the sooner Rose is on firm ground at Mooar-Rheynn Twoaie, the better. And going all the way across the salt sea? I'd much rather be on the big boat.”
“Well now that we're on board, the Marner Medhow does have a kind of pirate mood to it. Let's keep our eyes open and not frighten the ladies with talk about it.”
“You mean until the birds do it for us?”
“I wasn't thinking.”
“So why are you two still standing here?” said Roseen, appearing suddenly and taking Olloo by the arm.
“Tantalizing sea air, I suppose,” said Olloo.
“And you don't trust a sukee-drunkard for a captain, aye?”
Olloo looked at her and sighed. “So how did you figure out that so quick?”
“Baase is up here and Caggey went down below with me.”
***
“You've not said a word since we came down here,” said Fuzz. “Are you not feeling well? I know we waved goodbye to Inney, but I'm surprised that we're down here at all, so soon after they weighed anchor.”
Rose looked up from the baby blanket she had quit knitting in her distraction. “I feel fine, Fuzz,” she said. “I'm glad we can still hear the terns outside. I mean, I can feel the rise and fall of the sea through the floor and I just can't help thinking about our last ship.”
Fuzz took her knitting and sat beside her. “I can't imagine being on two sinking ships in a row,” he said, putting his arms around her. “Never heard of it. And I can't imagine getting home any other way.”
“I can. Grandfather knows a way, quick as a thought. The Elves call it taisteal. Not only that, but I'm pretty sure that Mother can do it too. If she can't, I'll bet she'd still be able to teach me. I could just take you by the hand and we'd be there.”
“That's going to be interesting,” he said with a wide-eyed nod.
“Yea. And none of it will help us until we sail home first.”
“I'll keep you safe the whole way, Rose,” he said fiercely.
“I know you will,” she said, brightening. “Can I ask you something, though?”
“Sure.”
“What do you think of Captain Voiles and his crew?”
“They talked about him being a sukee addict and all,” he said, standing up to pace about, “but there's something about this boat which stinks like pirate. What's odd is that I can't quite put my finger on it. But Karl-Veur and I have already been talking about it and we'll be watching things. And we have Sidoor, Carrey and Coady. Not to mention Olloo and them. They're right fierce. I'd hate to be the stinker who crossed either one of them and his bird.”
“It's nice they make the crew nervous,” she said, untying her bodice and standing up to slip off her kirtle. “Hand me the leine Inney made for me, if you would. She grew and spun the flax and everything. Do you reckon we could get our birds from the stalls and go up topside and scare the crew for a while?”
“Fuzz woofed out a laugh. “You're getting mean in your motherly way.”
“Between Spitemorta and the Marooderyn Imshee trolls, you can bet I am.”
“Well now, the birds wouldn't stay in the stalls.”
“Where are they?”
Fuzz lifted the door latch to have Sidoor and Carrey crowd in at once.
“Well!” said Rose, ruffling the feathers of both birds. “They're not going to like it with them just outside our door.”
“You know, I don't care, do you?”
“No. If we could figure out what to do with their manure, I'd almost have them in here with us. And if you're going to keep the baby and me from drowning, I feel like being mean for fun. See? I'm even going to wear the Elven dirk Inney gave me with her dress. Let's go parade these birds in front of the crew.”
Fuzz gave a swing of his fist like a drum major and followed her and the birds up the steps.
***
The room at the bottom of the stairs to the dungeon in Demonica's keep, where Budog and Mazhev spent most of their time on guard, had a window chiseled in the basalt rock which was covered with a heavy iron grate. The grate was hinged and had no lock at all, since the window opened out onto a ledge on the sheer cliff face, much too far above the crashing ocean waves for anyone to survive a jump. It made a breathtaking place to play chess on a mild day, though the two guards seldom ventured out there for fear of being cornered by Demonica.
These days, Demonica was dead and Spitemorta had long since vanished with Budog, so Mazhev had taken to making his job less lonely by taking his single prisoner, Demonica's f
aithful butler Eldwin, out the window to play chess.
“Avel a zo hiziv?” said Eldwin as he stiffly clambered from the overturned tub into the open window. “Will it be windy today?”
“Nann, n'eus ket avel,” said Mazhev with a grunt as he climbed after him, lugging his huge clay jug of mead. “No, there's no wind.”
They took their seats on buckets before the chessboard on a keg half full of nails, listening to the pounding of the surf far below and to the croaks and growls of the agitated colony of nesting murres at either end of the ledge.
“Hey brammer!” said Mazhev. “Still afraid of heights?”
“Enough for it to be a challenge to concentrate at first. But I do appreciate being out of that horrible dungeon.”
“Well knock off the 'hoari koukou and play, Eldwin, or I'll lock you back up.”
For some time they played without comment, Mazhev quaffing his mead teacup by teacup, listening to the surf and the birds.
“You idiot kaoc'h ki du,” said Mazhev, slapping his thigh with laughter. “Check mate! Games with you don't last two shakes.”
“I try...”
“That's 'cause you're stupid,” he said, rocking back and forth on his bucket. “You realize that's five for me and none for you, right? And since Demonica herself put you in here for needing butler practice, you get to practice mucking out the gutter in the hall. Easy practice, aye? I mean with nobody left but you, it's only your poop, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I'll tell you what, kaoc'h ki du. Since you have no choice at all, and since I'm real fair and things, I'm going to have the kid who's been helping out at the barn clean it out for you, if you win the next game. In fact, in fact, I'll be the one to muck it out. I won't even make you eat any of it. How about that?”
“Well I certainly am obliged for the chance,” said Eldwin with all the dignified polish it took to hide his bellyful of churning resentment.
Mazhev rocked on his bucket, pounding his thigh with his fist as the murres at each end of the ledge took flight. You've got a deal, bramm ki du. Your move.”
Eldwin nodded and set forth a pawn. One by one, the murres returned to the ledge. Mazhev kept his cup filled with the jug on his knee, sniffling from the mead he had managed to laugh up his nose.
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 177