Heart of the Staff - Complete Series

by Carol Marrs Phipps

  Bernard laughed out. “And they say birds have no sense of humor.”

  “Weo do nat,” said Meinir.

  “And I wonder if these are Pirate Island gulls?” he said with a starboard nod.

  “They aren in dede,” she said.

  ***

  “Tick-tock!” cried Urr-Urr from her nest, as Ocker winged his way up the bluff face. “And where have you been?” she rattled, the moment he landed before her with two fresh elk eyes.

  “Off on a hunt, giving the little blue swyvers some guidance,” he said, dutifully pecking at the eyeballs to roll them within her reach.

  “Are these elk?”

  “A buck...”

  “They gave you two whole eyeballs for showing them an elk?” she said with a snap of each wing.

  “We also get everything in the paunch except for the liver and kidneys. And we get to clean up what they leave on the bones if we get back down there quick enough...”

  “Including the tongue and brains?”

  “They took the whole head, except for the eyes...”

  “So that's all you got?”

  “Well they promised me a protector like unto Madadh-Allaidh Neartmhor which is Ru Talorg's wolf deity, but they didn't say which one...”

  “Ocker!” she awked as she stood up. “You're letting them play you for a fool. You don't need a deity. You're already Bran-Hoodie to them, at the very gates to their underworld. Besides, you're the Deal Maker. You're a wizard. You knew Changing Woman. You're the one who hung the stars in the sky.” And with that, she turned square about and sat again with her back to the eyes.

  “Well they have been offering me things like half eaten sandwiches again,” he said, going through the feathers of one wing. “But I've got my mind on other things...”

  “When's Minuet getting rid of them for us?”

  “Yea,” he said, going after his other wing. “Things like that. Hit's complicated.

  You're really asking?”

  She lifted her beak.

  “Six weeks ago, on the day after tomorrow, I went all 'round by spell to Loxmere, Balley Cheerey, Dark's Castle, as well as Gerddi Teg and Mount Bedd and let them know that Minuet's ships had set sail from the Black Desert. Now reckoning that their voyage should be about six weeks, I've been scrying the whole blooming Gulf of Orin, every day for a week, and I've finally found the fleet on the west coast of Pirate Isle. Now I'm watching for Captain Bernard's ship to run up a red flag. When I see hit, that means he's going ashore on the coast of Niarg and King James and Queen Mary are sailing here to go with the Beaks to take Goll. And while that's a-going on, I have to travel all over again to Loxmere, Balley Cheerey, Dark's Castle and Gerddi Teg and Mount Bedd and tell them that the hour's come. And then I have to tell Minuet that I did all of this.”

  “I suppose you realize that the little blue meanies tattoo the one with the new deity?”

  “So?”

  “I will not preen anywhere near some ugly bald spot with a hideous tattoo.”

  ***

  Spitemorta was particularly proud of her castle's solar, which faced south at the top of a tower adjoining her great hall and rivaled the opulence of her throne and her bower. Her south wall was almost entirely a row of tall leaded glass windows hinged to a palisade of gothic arches, so that the entire room was warmed and bathed in sunlight on a clear day. She was especially fond of lounging in the sun on her upholstered daybed, admiring herself in the tall mirror at her feet which had cost the taxpayers three large ships. Today she practically felt like purring as she lay there in the redolent frankincense, rubbing the ermine collar of her robe and stealing furtive glimpses of herself as she studied Abaddon, propped up on the bolsters of his daybed on the far side of the tea table.

  “Don't you trust me?” she thought, “As if you'd have the room not to.” But she couldn't quite tell. “So what about James?” she said, keeping her eye on him as she ran the fur along her lip. “You've not said one teensy word. You have spent the last twenty years with him, haven't you?”

  “I've stayed clean away from him,” said Abaddon with a shrug. “After all, it was he who had me kidnapped. I'd have been back here, free as a bird all these years if it weren't for him. And he didn't do you any favors either, did he? He stole me and then left you expecting twins. Right? I mean, I wouldn't mind watching his death while I had supper. Would you?”

  “We could plan that,” she said, suddenly sitting up. “But it'll be much easier to plan the most entertaining death for him if I know just what is most dear to him, these days.” This was exhilarating, even if there was a need to be cautious.

  Now Abaddon was sitting up. “What do you need to know?” he said.

  Spitemorta stared into the distance for a moment, tapping at a tooth.

  “It's probably important that he remarried, then. Isn't it?” he said.

  “What deceit! He's still married to me. And who's the strumpet? Rose?”

  “Rose?” said Abaddon. “She's been married to Fuzz the whole time.”

  “Fuzz?”

  “He was Niarg’s Captain of the Royal Guard before Bernard.”

  “Rose married an old man?” she said. Suddenly she screeched out and slapped her knee. “Good for you Rose! A doddering old man with no ding-doodle!”

  Abaddon dropped his jaw. He had never known her to have a sense of humor.

  “Yes...” he said, recovering at once. “I suppose. In a way. But Fuzz isn't exactly an old man. He was bear at one time...”

  “A bear?” she said, looking right at him. “A skinwalker from the Chokewood Forest?” She was on her feet at once to open a window.

  “He's no skinwalker,” said Abaddon. “It's actually a family story, the way I understand it. Grandmother Ugleeuh changed him into a bear. And he stayed that way for years until she died. When he changed back, he was as young as when he first became a bear. Rose married a man in his prime.”

  “So he really is Thorn Bushman,” she said, nibbling a thumbnail.

  “I've never heard that name,” said Abaddon. “He's supposed to be Karlton Strong.

  Sir Karlton Strong before he was a bear. You've met him? Did he tell you that his name was Thorn Bushman?”

  “Never mind. So who's this tart that your father married?”

  “James's tart is Mary. She's a white…”

  “Witch!” cried Spitemorta. “Mary the White.”

  “Sounds like you've met her, too.”

  “Oh I have indeed,” she hissed. “I just can’t believe James would go and marry her after he met her...”

  There was a knock. Spitemorta drew a breath to find that Coel had already stepped in.

  Coel caught her sudden look of ire. “Your Omnipotence, I have tidings which you may wish us to discuss in private,” he said, glancing at Abaddon.

  “Then report, General,” she said with a haughty flourish fit for shaming the daft.

  “You can speak in front of my son.”

  Coel eyed her doubtfully. “A fleet of four and twenty ships has been spotted sailing for the coast,” he said.

  “So it has begun,” she said, more excited than alarmed. “Are all of your forces in place, General? And you’ve alerted our government in Darcastle about Azenor as well as my first steward in Gwael?”

  “They certainly are. And I have indeed.”

  “How about this castle? How are we set?”

  “The best men are posted throughout as we speak.”

  “The blowpipe, General. And the four darts and the box of poison grease to dress them, which I picked up off the carpet out of the ashes of Talorg's son. Have you found someone? As I said, those darts could stop the magic of two sets of twins, if they're well placed.”

  “Sergeant Lagasek, who happens to be the sharpest eyed soldier under my command, is posted with them outside your door right now,” said Coel. “His orders are to shadow you wherever you go until the threat subsides.”

  “And he'd better. We would view his failur
e as a capital offence.”

  “Shall I have him step in?”

  “No need.”

  “Is there anything else?”

  “You're dismissed,” she said without so much as a glance at his face.

  “Your Omnipotence,” said Coel, stepping out at once and closing the door without so much as a bob of his head.

  Abaddon was fascinated. His mother's face convinced him that she and this General had quite a history together indeed, just as the snippets he had been hearing about the castle had suggested. When she turned back to him to continue their discussion of contemptible parties and their spouses, he was ready.

  ***

  Old Peredur spit his chaw into the dying kitchen fire and picked up a candle from the table and was shuffling off to bed when a loud knock on the kitchen door stopped him short in the hallway. “Well cachu tan!” he said, turning right about. “Who is it?” he hollered.

  “Razzmorten Dewin!” came the call through the door.

  “I'll have to come open it!” he cried, shoving aside chairs in the dark kitchen as he came. “I have to bar it with a blooming two-by-four, these days!” He took down the bar and opened the door. “Well if it ain't Razzmorten, King Neron and my dear child, Queen Minuet,” he said with a gasp. “Now, I don't reckon I know this pair of handsome young Elves.”

  “My grandchildren, Daniel and Ariel,” said Minuet as the pair gave their bow and curtsey.

  “And you still have the popinjays,” he said as Hubba Hubba and Pebbles flew over his head and landed on the table.

  Razzmorten lit the kitchen's handful of candles with a fling of his wrist and set about turning loose a succession of mage lights until the room was bright enough for everyone to see.

  “Everyone, have 'ee a seat,” said Peredur as he peered out into the black night.

  “Now what in all thunderation is that commotion outside? What in blazes did you ones ride in on?”

  “We flew here on dragons,” said Neron. “In fact, this dragon is Smoke Sparkson, who bore me here.”

  “At your service,” said Smoke, squeezing his way inside.

  “And I understand from King Neron that Momma Bethan's been taken by Spitemorta,” said Minuet.

  “To be her head cook, I'm afraid,” said Peredur. “She just swooped in and took her at the same time that she laid claim to this entire manor. She owns me. Can you believe? And she gave every last blooming acre of Razzmorten's farm ground to her big mercenary from Gwael, a General Coel. I hope to Fates that I live long enough to see that witch brought down.”

  “I expect you will,” said Smoke with a grin, “for we've come with thirteen of my dear brothers and sisters...”

  “And three hundred military trained fire head dragons and their dragoon riders,” said Neron, “who happen to be setting up a bivouac in the orchard as we speak. Will it bother your sheep?”

  “Spitemorta's day is done...!” crowed Hubba Hubba, bristling up and flapping his wings.

  “Whee-ooo!” cried Peredur, giving a leap to click his heels and stumble against the end of the table. “Get her, oh get her!”

  Everyone lunged to keep him from falling.

  Razzmorten sat down to study his scrying ball. “Good!” he said, thumping the table with his fist. “Bernard's fleet has weighed anchor and is half way across the gulf.”

  “Then there's not a moment to lose,” said Minuet, turning to Hubba Hubba and Pebbles. “Are you ready for your stately black?”

  “As long as you're not a-swinging your sword, Queen-o...” said Hubba Hubba.

  “And as long as I've not fixed all your favorite dainties. Aye?”

  “Something like that,” said Hubba Hubba.

  “Ready?” said Razzmorten as he came to the table and gave each of the birds a good scratch. And the instant he stepped back, they were crows.

  “We look for Bernard's ship Lostgwyns, what?” said Hubba Hubba, running his black beak down a flight feather.

  “That's right,” said Razzmorten. “And tell them we're here. Then make sure that they remember to run up the red flag so that Ocker knows that the fleet is coming ashore.”

  And with that, Hubba Hubba and Pebbles leaped up from the table and swooped out into the night.

  “Do be careful!” called Minuet after them. “Now comes the waiting.”

  “Might not be too much of a wait,” said Razzmorten, patting her shoulder as he walked by her chair. “They'll fly right back with tidings, one way or the other.”

  With a scuff on the steps and a peck on the door jamb, Herio and Sulacha stepped inside. “We have no idea what to make of this,” said Herio, “but Edward and Laora spotted a host of trolls headed right this way...”

  “How many?” said Minuet.

  “They're a-coming through the timber,” said Sulacha. “And with them down in the shadows of the trees, they could only guess...”

  “And what was their guess?” said Razzmorten.

  “Above two hundred, they said.”

  “And whose side are they on?” said Minuet.

  “Ours, according to you all,” said Razzmorten, looking from Neron to Sulacha.

  “Aye?”

  “Yea,” said Minuet. “Our side perhaps. But how would they ever know to find us?”

  “That would be my fault,” said Neron with a sigh. “And a long and awkward story it is, I'm afraid.”

  Chapter 203

  Hubba and Pebbles left Peach Knob and flew with everything they could muster across Niarg Bay in utter darkness.

  “I hate flying at night,” said Hubba Hubba after some hours. “We can't see a thing.”

  “We see stars,” said Pebbles. “We know that we're going south.”

  “Yea? And with no stinking moon, we'll never see the ships. The only way we even know that we're flying over water is that when we get low enough, we can hear it.”

  “Look 'ee there! Someone's got a campfire. We must have reached the north coast of Swydd Dyfnaint.”

  “Well great,” said Hubba Hubba. “But it's further across Dyfnaint to Pearl Shoals and the gulf than it was across the bay to where we are now.”

  And it was indeed a very long way for them, over mile upon endless mile of isolated meadows and gnarly pines, much too dark for them to make out as they flew, though occasionally they heard wolves. When they were beyond halfway across, Hubba Hubba's pulley bone began bothering him, but he wasn't saying anything.

  “What's that light in the east?” said Pebbles.

  “Why that must be the moon about to rise.”

  It certainly was. Before they had gone on very many more miles, a silvery white half moon had climbed into the starry heavens, bathing the countryside with pale light.

  “What's all of that down yonder?” said Pebbles. “Could that be Spitemorta's army?” They flew low to see.

  “They've got soldiers all along Pearl Shoals, far enough inland from the water to be hidden from any ships...” said Hubba Hubba.

  “Yea!” said Pebbles. “And what else could they possibly be doing but waiting for our ships?”

  “I'll bet that campfire you saw 'way back across Dyfnaint before the moon rose was some of them,” said “Hubba Hubba. “We've got a spy amongst us! Now it really is a life and death matter, telling Bernard and getting back to Peach Knob.”

  “And I'll bet it was too dark for us to notice troops between the bay and Peach Knob,” said Pebbles. “And I can't imagine anyone amongst us who might be a spy.”

  “Could one of the refugees from Goll have stayed loyal to Spitemorta all these years?” said Hubba Hubba. “I mean, I can't imagine it, but who knows?”

  They were much too winded for talking, and it was a good number of leagues out over the Gulf of Orin before either of them said another word. “There!” cawed Pebbles.

  “Ships.”

  “The one in front must be Bernard's ship, Lostgwyns,” said Hubba Hubba. “Let's land there.”

  They landed on the top yard and rested for a moment
, sorting through their flight feathers as they strained to find anyone they might recognize. “The only one down there is that sailor,” said Hubba Hubba. “Let's go.” And down they swooped to hover in front of the man. “Philpott!” he cawed. “You're no sailor...”

  “And you're the Pitmaster!” cried Philpott. “No damned crow falls out of the sky in the wee hours.”

  “Where's Bernard?” cawed Hubba Hubba.

  “I'm not telling anything to the Pitmaster!” he shouted, drawing and swinging his sword with a whoosh.

  “Cawk!” cried Hubba Hubba and Pebbles at once, as they frantically flapped out of his reach.

  “Over here!” hollered Bernard, giving a slap to the railing he was leaning against.

  “Calm down Philpott! I was expecting them. They're the queen's popinjays. Razzmorten's turned them into crows.” He slapped the railing again. “Right here!”

  Hubba Hubba and Pebbles landed beside him at once, but had to take a panting moment before they could manage going through their feathers or saying anything.

  “The queen and Razzmorten said for you to run up your red flag for Ocker,” said Hubba Hubba, still catching his wind. “But we saw enemy soldiers waiting inland for you along Pearl Shoals and the north coast of Dyfnaint. And they're probably waiting for you across the bay, between the Port of Niarg and Tnassip, too, except that there was no moon when we went through there, so we couldn't see.”

  Bernard looked out across the reflected fragments of moon riding on the black waters. “Did you get here with the dragoons?”

  “All three hundred fire heads, fourteen of Spark and Liperella's mob and all their riders,” said Hubba Hubba.

  “Good,” said Bernard. “I'll run up the flag, but an ambush is an ambush. I'm staying out of sight of the shore until I hear from Queen Minuet. When we come ashore it'll have to be at night and we'll need support from the dragoons.”

  “Is that it?” said Hubba Hubba.

  “I believe so,” said Bernard. And the moment he saluted, Hubba Hubba and Pebbles leaped from the railing and vanished amongst the stars.

  ***

  It was nearly sunrise. A great crested flycatcher called from the treetops at the foot of the bluff. Ocker yawned, stood up from where he had slept beside Urr-Urr's nest and stretched out a foot under first one wing and then the other. He ruffled up to go through his feathers and stopped short to listen to a wood thrush. “First one this year,” he thought. He resumed preening himself, gave himself a conclusive shake and dove off the edge to glide down to a little ledge not far down the face of the bluff, in front of a hole where he was keeping his things these days. He fished out his scrying marble and chain and flew back up with them to his spot beside the nest where Urr-Urr was still asleep. He rolled the marble about, pecking at it this way and that as it winked and flashed and swirled with colors. Suddenly he quacked out: “Awk!”