by John Lenahan
‘Oh my,’ came that lovely voice in my head, ‘who is this in such a rush?’
‘It’s me, Mother Oak – Conor.’
‘Oh my, my, the Prince of Hazel and Oak; I have been worried about you.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Oh, but your father is not,’ she said, reading my thoughts. ‘Climb up higher and tell me all about it.’
I climbed a bit and she brought branches in behind me to rest against. I told her about what had happened to Dad, and what Mom and Fand had done.
‘Oh, I had feared as much. I knew something was wrong with your father the last time he came to visit with me. But try not to worry yourself too much, my dear, your mother is a very clever witch. If anyone can find a cure it will be her.’
I knew that already but Mother Oak has a way of turning knowledge into belief. I hugged her again.
‘I have to go,’ I said, ‘the others are waiting for me.’
‘Take good care of yourself, Conor. Come and see me in the spring.’
‘I will.’ I started to leave and then added, ‘By the way your foliage looks beautiful.’
‘Do you really think so?’ she asked. ‘The fashion among the other trees these days just seems a bit gau#8217; me.’
‘Well, I think you look elegant.’
I hugged her one more time and I know it sounds impossible for a tree but I think she blushed.
I walked over the knoll. It always takes me some time to clear my head after talking to a tree. I saw a small group standing around someone on the ground. As I got closer I saw it was Brendan unconscious on his back.
‘What happened?’ I asked the throng.
‘I don’t know,’ a guard said. ‘Ask him.’
Spideog crested the knoll with a bucket of water in his hand. Ignoring my questions, he poured the whole thing onto Brendan’s face. The detective popped up spluttering, tried to stand and then dropped back down holding his head.
‘Has someone hit me with a stick again?’ Brendan asked.
‘Did you hit him with a stick?’ I asked Spideog.
‘No,’ he said, ‘a rock.’
‘Why?’
‘I would like to have a word with you in private, if I may.’
Spideog and I walked out of earshot and he said, ‘Our friend Brendan was about to shoot a tree with an arrow. I was too far away to stop him so I threw a rock. It was either that or place an arrow in him.’
‘Thank you, Spideog; he didn’t know what he was doing.’
‘I have spent many a year in the Real World, Prince Conor, and I know how mortals treat trees but there are others here who might not be so understanding. Remember he is under your protection. Make sure he does not do it again.’
We walked back. Brendan was on his feet.
‘You have to stop your friends from hitting me in the head with sticks.’
‘It was a rock.’
‘OK,’ he said. ‘You have to stop your friends hitting me with sticks and rocks.’
‘You promised you would keep your hands in your pockets. What were you doing when Spideog threw the rock at you?’
‘Spideog hit me? What for?’
‘What were you doing?’
‘I got bored waiting for you so I notched an arrow and was about to do a bit of archery practice.’
‘And what were you aiming at?’
Brendan pointed to a young oak. His misfired arrow was about ten yards behind it.
‘Come with me,’ I said, grabbing him by the arm and leading him to Mother Oak.
‘Hug that tree,’ I demanded.
‘What?’
‘Hug that tree.’
‘I’m not going to hug a tree.’
‘Hug that tree or I will have you dragg="5%"›Wek to Castle Duir in chains and you can stare at Frick and Frack for the next year.’
He looked at me and then tilted his head. ‘You mean it, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say my mother put you up to this.’
‘Hug!’
Brendan approached the tree and with an if it will make you happy attitude, wrapped his arms around Mother Oak. His smirk disappeared in an instant. I wish I could have heard Mother Oak’s side of the conversation ’cause all I heard from Brendan was ‘Yes, ma’am’ and ‘No, ma’am.’ His conversation finished with, ‘It won’t happen again, ma’am.’ Then he let go of the tree and staggered.
I caught him by the arm. ‘Steady, Detective.’
He tried looking me in the eyes but wasn’t focusing well. ‘I’m still concussed, aren’t I?’
‘I’m pretty sure you’re not.’
‘Yeah,’ he said, regaining his balance, ‘I was afraid of that.’
I waited for him to say something else but he just stood there. Finally I asked, ‘So what did you think of Mother Oak?’
‘That’s a heck of a tree.’
I laughed. ‘That’s what I said when I first met her.’
A group of soldiers had galloped ahead and had started cooking so that dinner was ready to be served almost as soon as we made camp. Other soldiers pitched tents for Mom and me. As I have said I’m not a big fan of the royal treatment I get around here but after a hard day of riding – well, it would be rude of me to complain about a meal and a clean bed.
Brendan wolfed down his supper and then disappeared. I had a silent meal with Araf and then decided to hit the hay in the luxury of my own royal tent. As I approached it I heard a strange noise coming from inside. I unsheathed the Lawnmower and pushed open the flap only to find Brendan snoring in my bed. No amount of shaking and then kicking could get him to move so I grabbed a blanket and slept out under the stars on a lumpy piece of ground next to Araf. I fell asleep thinking of ways to strangle Brendan as he slept.
I was having a dream about Essa talking to an invisible man when I was awoken by a ruckus at the edge of the camp. I saw Mom heading towards the commotion. Araf and I followed. At the perimeter of the paddock we found Mom tending a wounded soldier. Next to him was a dead wolf with an arrow through its chest.
Mom stood up and walked over to the wolf. ‘Who shot the beast?’ she demanded.
‘I did,’ came a response from the shadows. It was Spideog.
‘Explain yourself.’
‘It was a last resort, Lady Deirdre. I arrived as the wolves were harassing the horses. The guards were shooing them away when they attacked. This man went down and lost his banta stick. I only fired when the wolf went for him on the ground. I had no choice.’
Mom looked at the wounded guard, who nodded in agreement. Mom placed her hand on the neck of the wolf and then began to run both her hands over the animal. She paused for what seemed to be the longest time, turning her head from one side to another, and then suddenly reached into her boot and pulled out a knife. She cut a long incision deep into the creature’s abdomen and reached inside. When her bloody hand emerged she held a short wire necklace with a small flat gold disc attached. She held it up and displayed it to Spideog. The look on both of their faces made me feel very afraid.
Chapter Ten
The Athru
I didn’t get a chance to talk to Mom until we were back on the road the next day. I slid Acorn up next to her and asked, ‘What was that thing you pulled out of the wolf last night? It looked like it really spooked you.’
‘Yes, I was certainly freaked up.’
‘Out.’
‘Damn, I thought I had that one right,’ she said with a smile. ‘No matter. The necklace I pulled out of the wolf was an athru.’
‘An athru?’
‘Do you remember the Pooka that died when you were first in the Fililands?’
‘How could I forget.’
‘Do you remember the piece of gold I placed in his mouth before he died?’
‘I do, it scared the hell out of me. You put the disc in his mouth, then he changed into a wolf, howled, died and changed back.’
‘Well, the disc I put in hi
s mouth was his athru – a Pooka amulet. The Pooka wear them around their necks, it helps them change. The wire it hangs from expands and contracts so it doesn’t fall off during the metamorphosis.’
‘Like Banshee blade wire?’
‘Exactly,’ Mom said. ‘The wolf that Spideog killed had an athru in its stomach.’
‘That wolf was a Pooka?’
‘No, if it had been a Pooka it would have changed into a man when it died.’
‘So where did the wolf get the amulet?’
‘I can only conclude that that animal ate a Pooka but that just does not make sense.’
‘Why not?’
‘The Pookas are very secretive with their lore but I know a small bit.’
‘You once told me that one of your tutors in the Hazellands was a Pooka.’
‹216; Well remembered, son; yes, she was. She told me some things she probably should not have. One thing she taught me was that each athru has a marking for each creature. The athru I found in the wolf was marked Gearr. It was worn by a Pooka that could change into a hare.’
‘So a crazy wolf accidentally wolfs down a Pooka hare. That sounds plausible to me.’
‘But it is not,’ Mom said, looking perturbed. ‘Pookas have an almost telepathic control over animals, and the Pookas that change into small creatures always change back when threatened.’
‘So what’s the answer?’
‘I do not know, my son. I do know that no Pooka has come to Castle Duir since your father took the throne and you said you were attacked by boar in the summer.’
‘So you think there is something wrong in Pookaville?’
Mom gave me her quizzical look, ‘How do you come up with these words?’
The Land’s fall colour spectacular continued throughout the day. Brendan, it turned out, was quite the equestrian. It made me regret letting him ride Cloud. Don’t get me wrong, Acorn is a great horse and the best mount a man can have when the chips are down, but Cloud is a much easier ride, like having power steering in a car.
Our second night’s camp was uneventful. I kept an eye on Brendan at dinner and followed him when he left early. As he approached my tent I said, ‘That would be my tent.’
‘Oh,’ he said, ‘I thought it was for guests.’
‘Yeah, right. It’s mine and if you steal it again, I’m going to tell my mother.’
‘Oh,’ Brendan said, ‘I guess I’ll find somewhere else.’
Sometimes it’s handy having a warrior queen for a mother.
Acorn got jittery when we crossed the border into the Hazellands but it wasn’t as bad as the last time. Mom rode up next to me and spoke into my horse’s ear and settled him down. I think another reason why Acorn calmed down was because the Hazellands were starting to look a lot better. The first time I was here it seemed as if the life had been sucked out of it – now it felt as if the place was on the mend. Like fresh new skin growing on a bad wound. Fallen trees had been cut for wood and charred branches had been cleared away. As we climbed a small hill I remembered where we were. The top of the rise was the spot where Araf had first laid eyes on the destruction of the Field – the Imp garden where Araf had lost so many kinsmen. The last time he had seen the Field it had been trashed so badly he nearly fell out of his saddle. This time he crested the hill and said, ‘Will you look at that.’
It is so rare for Araf to spontaneously make any noise that it always startles me when he does. I pulled up next to him and saw what he saw. What was once a scorched and blackened patch of land had been cleared and tilled. A team of Imps were planting trees and tending gardens. Araf looked on like a dog sighting a bird in a bush.
Spideog rode next to us, taking in the wide-eyed Araf and the Field.
‘Master Spideog,’ I said, ‘I wonder if Prince Araf might be able to be released from his bodyguard duties for a few hours.’
Araf looked at me like a boy getting permission from his mother to go swimming on a hot day.
‘I think we can spare his stick for the rest of the afternoon,’ Spideog said. ‘Prince Araf, you are relieved.’
A rare ear-to-ear smile erupted on the Imp’s face as he reached for the whistle hanging around his neck. He simultaneously kicked his mount into a gallop and blew. All of the Imps in the distance immediately stopped what they were doing and then began to cheer as they saw their prince speeding towards them. We watched as a mob of Imps practically dragged him from his horse. How anybody can get excited about spending an afternoon covered in dirt is beyond me but I knew Araf was now as happy as a pig in muck.
As we got closer to the outbuildings it became obvious how much work had been done. All of the rubble had been cleared away or stacked for later repair. Several of the smaller buildings had been rebuilt and then there was the landscaping. Those Imp guys sure can plant stuff. Hedges, young trees and flowerbeds were everywhere.
As we approached what looked like a guard house, Spideog kicked his horse and sped ahead. Just before he cleared the building, he notched an arrow in his bow and performed a magnificent full speed dismount. He hit the ground running using his horse for cover, then pulled his bow to full length and let his mount go on. He stood stock still, menacingly aiming a deadly arrow at something or someone that I couldn’t see. I drew my sword and looked to Mom but she seemed more annoyed than concerned. She kicked her horse into a canter and I followed. Mom casually went behind Spideog – I on the other hand peeked around the building. Standing there with a crossbow pointed directly at Spideog’s head was Master Dahy.
‘Boys,’ Mom said in a reproachful tone.
‘Tell this old man to drop his weapon. His clumsy reconnaissance has been exposed,’ Spideog said.
‘First of all,’ Dahy replied, ‘I am younger than you.’
‘In age maybe, but not in spirit.’
‘Boys,’ Mom said again. This time she sounded impatient.
‘Secondly,’ Dahy continued, ignoring the interruption, ‘I have a Brownie crossbow aimed at your head. I’ll drop you before you can even let go of that string.’
‘Would you like to put that to the test, Old Man?’
Mom dismounted and walked between the two Masters. No matter how much they wanted to kill each other (and it sure looked like they did) their duty kicked in as soon as the Queen of Duir stepped into the line of fire. They immediately lowered their weapons.
‘Now that is better,’ Mom said in an overly calm tone. ‘I’m going to return to my mount. I shall assume you two will not again raise your weapons to eac other after I leave.’ When she got no response, she said, ‘Master Spideog?’
‘Yes, my lady,’ Spideog said, replacing his arrow in his quiver.
‘Master Dahy?’
‘Of course, Lady Deirdre,’ Dahy replied, removing the bolt from his crossbow.
I don’t know how many years those two had between them, probably thousands, but at that moment they sounded like eight-year-olds.
‘Master Spideog, you are with me,’ Mom commanded. ‘Master Dahy, I have royal bodyguard duty for you. He is over there hiding behind that wall – I think you may have met.’
I stuck my nose around the building and waved.
‘Conor!’ Dahy said as he approached and placed his arms on my shoulders. ‘When did you get back?’
‘About a week ago; I would have thought someone would have told you.’
‘News is slow around here. I don’t have an emain slate. The Leprechaun who made them was killed when Cialtie blew out the east wing. The new ones don’t work very well. I’ve had to rely on couriers. Tell me, how is your father?’
We mounted up and I told him what Mom and Fand had done to Dad and about Mom’s magic Shadowbook paperclip. He took it all in without surprise like I was telling him the latest football scores. I guess if you’re as old as Dahy and have lived all of that time with witches and oracles, it’s easy to take news like this in your stride.
‘So you are going to be with us for a while then?’ Dahy asked.
&
nbsp; ‘As long as it takes.’
‘Good, I can use you.’
‘Use me for what?’ I asked suspiciously.
We passed one of the Hall’s outbuildings; I recognised it as the one where Lorcan clothes-lined me so long ago. Just past that we rounded a bend and I saw a large group of soldiers standing around a pair of duelling banta fighters in full protective gear.
‘You finally got your security force for the Hall of Knowledge,’ I said.
‘Yes,’ Dahy replied, ‘I imagine even your grandfather wouldn’t have minded, given the circumstances. I wanted a more ecumenical group but they are mostly Imps, Leprechauns and Faeries.’
‘Faeries?’
‘Of course. There are a few Banshees but I couldn’t get any Elves or Brownies to join and nobody has spotted a Pooka in ages. This lot are all very green. I could use your help to train them.’
I was just about to ask what a Faerie looked like when the banta stick duel captured my attention. The one guy wasn’t doing very well. Every time he mounted an attack his opponent seemed to know in advance exactly where it was going to come from. His opponent’s parries and counter-attacks were minimal and effective to the point of perfection. But what really caught my attention was the posture and footwork. There was only one person that moved like that and it made my heart race even before she took off her head protector and shook even youavy black hair over her shoulders like a model in a shampoo commercial. Essa turned and our eyes locked. She was definitely surprised to see me but, as usual with that girl, I wasn’t sure if she was happy about it or not.
All eyes turned to Dahy and me as we approached. Essa’s duelling partner took off his headpiece and for a moment I was hit with deja vu. As he revealed his black hair with a white tuft in the front, I momentarily thought it was Fergal but then the Banshee’s sharp facial lines and broad chin broke the illusion.
‘Attention, Soldiers of the Red Hand,’ Dahy shouted.
The group snapped to attention. I smiled. Dahy had held onto the same name as the army that last occupied the Hazellands.
‘I give you Conor, Prince of Duir!’