Prince of Hazel and Oak s-2

by John Lenahan

  ‘No, I have learned my lesson. Ona’s will is not to be denied. I now only seek to regain the Oak Throne. As long as I am the King of Castle Duir, I will be safe. That is why I must do this.’ He reached into a pouch on his belt and took out the gold-rimmed glass vial. I looked down to where Graysea had sealed the vial of dragon’s blood into my robe. There was a slit cut into the living fabric. Cialtie undid the stopper and began to tilt.

  ‘No, please,’ I begged.

  He stopped. ‘Turlow told me that you sought dragon’s blood, but he told me you failed. Where did you get this?’

  ‘I stole it,’ I lied. I didn’t want Graysea to be dragged into all of this.

  ‘From where?’

  ‘Duh – from a dragon.’

  He looked as though he was going to hit me again but then just said, ‘No matter, my spies in Castle Duir have told me that Oisin is much worse. It will not be long.’ Then he lifted the corner of the carpet and poured the blood into the dirt below.

  I tried to scream, I tried to tell him that I was going to kill him but nothing would come. As if I had been punched in the solar plexus, I had no breath. When finally I could speak, I found I had no strength to do it. You can only lose hope so many times before life is no longer worth fighting for. I dropped my head to my chest and waited for the sword that I knew was going to come, not even caring.

  I think I actually dozed off then. I had a vision that I was dead – riding a dragon off into a heavenly sunset filled with red and gold clouds and beams of light like you see in the paintings on the walls of Italian churches. I sputtered awake as hot liquid slipped down my throat and exploded my senses. I opened my eyes to see Cialtie holding a bottle of poteen.

  ‘I thought you had killed me already,’ I said with the husky voice of an alcohol-burned throat.

  ‘I have not decided what to do with you yet,’ he said, sitting back into his chair. ‘I’ve won you know. The Brownies and the Banshees are loyal to me. The Faeries, without your father, will splinter back into a squabbling mess. The Pookas will all turn again into dogs once I destroy the Tree of Knowledge. That only leaves the Imps and the Elves. The Elves, as usual, will scamper up their trees and wait to see what will happen – and the Imps… well, the Imps fight like farmers.’

  ‘We’ll stop you.’

  ‘Or you could help me. You know I’m right, you know I will win. You don’t have to like me but you can see that if you stand by my side we can avoid this war. You can save your friends and The Land much heartache.’

  ‘What do you know about heartache? You have to have a heart for that.’

  Cialtie stood and returned Ona’s book to its box. Without looking around he said, ‘When one’s entire lifetime is presented to you in an afternoon then one experiences a lifetime of pain – in a day. Oh, nephew, I know heartache.’ He turned back to me. ‘Think about what I have said,’ and then he left.

  As much as I wanted not to do as he commanded, thinking is pretty much the only thing you can do when left tied to a pole. I didn’t believe it was possible but I felt a little sorry for my uncle. I tried to imagine what life would be like if I knew everything that was going to happen to me and I had to admit it would be a nightmare – especially if my life was like Cialtie’s. I also had to admit that he had a point about my family and friends being in trouble – things didn’t look good. I wanted to laugh at the cliched ‘Join me and together we can rule the universe’ speech but I’d be lying if I wasn’t tempted. Don’t get me wrong, the idea of spending any time with Cialtie made my stomach churn but the thought of all my loved ones getting massacred in the Hazellands made it churn more. I had seen the young troops that Dahy had put together, I had trained with them and if I was brutally honest – they weren’t up to much. They were no match for a well-trained armyf Banshees and Brownies. If I was certain my friends were going to be killed, wasn’t it my duty to save them? But then I imagined Essa and Dahy’s faces as I rode in at Cialtie’s side. It wouldn’t make any difference – they would never give up. The only difference would be that before they died they would hate me and I was pretty sure that Essa would find a way to haunt me for the rest of my life.

  Cialtie knew what he was doing; he had left me alone to think and that was the cruellest cut of all. In the end I came to the conclusion that, preordained or not, Cialtie was a monster I could never join with. I had failed my father, my friends were almost certainly doomed and I would soon die. Cialtie didn’t need to torture me – I was doing it to myself. I would like to be able to say that at that moment I welcomed death but the truth is I was afraid. I decided that when my uncle returned that I would accept his offer just so I could survive the day and maybe find a chance to escape later.

  ‘You were not thinking of accepting his offer were you?’ I heard a familiar voice say from behind me and then I felt the ropes being cut from my wrists.

  ‘Not me,’ I said, as a spark of hope returned to my soul and blood returned to my hands. I silently groaned as I stood and turned to see a very welcome face covered with camouflaging dirt.

  ‘I myself would have accepted,’ he said, his white teeth shining in his dark face, ‘and then looked for a chance to escape.’

  I started to say, ‘Actually that’s what I was going to do,’ but then just decided to say, ‘That’s why they call you Master Spideog.’ I bowed and then hugged him.

  ‘I think we should get out of here,’ he said, crossing the tent and opening Cialtie’s wardrobe.

  ‘What are you looking for?’

  ‘You need to wear something that is a bit darker than that bathrobe.’

  ‘Hold on, let me try something.’ I concentrated. This time the robe cooperated and turned a dark bark brown.

  ‘Impressive,’ the old archer said while throwing me a pair of my uncle’s shoes.

  I was still putting on the left shoe when he grabbed me by the collar and I hopped out of the slit he had cut in the back of the tent. There was more moon than we would have liked as we tried to keep the vegetation between us and the roving soldiers. Spideog held a staff but no bow. Seeing him without a bow was like seeing a zebra without stripes. It made me want to ask what had happened to him in the Yewlands but this was no place for a chat.

  He led me through the spooky vegetation and then pointed into the gloom. In the distance I made out a horse corral with two guards. We snuck in closer, then Spideog offered me a knife and pointed to the guard on the left. I looked at the deadly weapon.

  ‘Can’t I have your stick?’ I whispered.

  His face showed his displeasure at the breach of silence, then he surprised me by saying, ‘No.’

  ‘I can’t just stab a man in the back.’

  ‘Conor, we are at war.’

  ‘Because it is mine. Now do you want to get out of here or not?’

  I knew by the tone that this was the end of the conversation. I took the knife and as I crept up on the guard I repeated to myself, ‘We are at war… we are at war.’ But the closer I got, the less my resolve became. While I was still in the open, the clueless soldier bent down, picked up a rock and batted it into the night with his staff. This was just a kid and then when I got closer still I realised it was a kid I knew. What were the odds? Like he was the only Brownie in all of the Reedlands – it was Frank. I came up behind him and placed the knife onto the front of his neck but I couldn’t kill.

  ‘Make a sound, Frank, and I’ll slit your throat from ear to ear.’

  Frank let loose a tiny childish squeal.

  ‘That would be a sound. Would you like to try me again?’

  I took his silence for a ‘no’. I instructed him to plant his staff in the ground and take a step forward. I held the knife to his back and picked up his staff.

  ‘You should have said “thank you”,’ I whispered as I clocked him in the side of his head. He went down with a slow wobble of the knees. I took back the green-handled knife but then had an image in my mind’s eye of poor worried Jesse and replaced it in his so
ck. ‘Stay out of trouble, Frank.’

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  War

  We rode out on two mares. I wanted to stampede the herd but Spideog thought getting out of there unnoticed was more important than making them round up horses for a couple of hours. We galloped into the night.

  Since we couldn’t find any saddles, we rode bareback. And since all I was wearing was my stupid kelp robe thing, I really was riding bareback. Last summer Mom had taught me the basic techniques of riding without a saddle but on that occasion I didn’t have to hoik up a robe exposing my bare bottom to horsehair and the rest of my lower parts to a winter breeze. Spideog rode in front of me and to be honest, I couldn’t blame him. I wouldn’t want to be confronted with that view for a prolonged period of time either.

  Kidding aside, it was a profoundly uncomfortable ride. Riding bareback is twice the work than in a saddle. I was already exhausted from being knocked out and trussed up, and my legs (as well as my nether regions) were going numb with the cold. Spideog was determined to get far away from Cialtie’s camp before I was discovered missing and he wanted to reach the Hazellands as soon as possible to warn of the imminent attack. So we travelled fast and only stopped to rest the horses. I couldn’t disagree with his logic but I would have loved to curl up in a pile of leaves for an hour or twenty.

  The sky was dark and overcast during our entire escape. A couple of snow squalls made it almost impossible to see our way but then again, it made us also impossible to spot. All the while I practised the Fili mind-calming chant that Fand had once tried to teach me. I decided on and repeated a mantra ‘Would you like fries with that burger?’ over and over again until my mind and body were almost separate. Spideog said it took a full twenty hours to get out of the Reedlands but I hardly remember anything except the cold.

  There were two Banshee guards at the border path leading into the Hazellands. Spideog spotted them before they spotted us. I waited while he snuck up and dispatched them. All that could be heard were two quiet thumps.

  In the Hazellands we found our first clean stream. The horses drank greedily and I fell into it face down. My robe had been getting lighter and colder the longer it had been away from water; after the bath it dried and warmed itself and me. I noticed that the slit that Cialtie had cut in the fabric had healed so I decided to give something a try. I slit the robe down the middle from my crotch to the floor and wrapped the dangling pieces of fabric around my legs and then willed the fabric to join together like trousers. It worked – my butt still hung out of the back but I was much warmer for the rest of the trip.

  A day into the Hazellands I could go on no longer. Spideog decided we were not being followed. He caught a rabbit and risked a small fire.

  ‘Do you have enough energy to tell me what has happened to you since we parted?’

  I had dreaded that question. The Fili chanting had not only helped me endure the cold, it had also stopped me from remembering how badly I had failed and how many friends I had lost.

  ‘Brendan is dead,’ I blurted, hoping that if I said it fast it wouldn’t hurt so much.

  The archer gave a deep sigh that was the only grieving he allowed himself. ‘And the rest?’ he asked.

  ‘Araf is dead too, along with a Pooka prince who was our guide. Essa left for the Hazellands, I don’t know if she made it or not. Turlow betrayed us.’

  ‘I gathered that from what Cialtie said.’

  ‘You heard our whole conversation?’

  ‘Most of it,’ he said. ‘I had already cut a slit in the back of the tent when your uncle came in. If I had had a bow, he would be dead now.’

  ‘So the yews didn’t give you a bow?’

  ‘The yews do not give bows, Conor, the yews give wood for a bow – if they find you worthy.’ To answer my question he held out the staff he was holding – it was of course yew wood.

  ‘So the yews told you that you were worthy, eh? I could have told you that.’

  ‘They also told me something else. They say that someone has killed one of them.’

  ‘But I always thought a yew could kill anybody before they could chop one down.’

  ‘That is how it has always been.’

  ‘Then who did it?’

  ‘I do not know, nor do I know what this means, but I do know that it does not bode well.’

  I asked Spideog if I could have his knife to cut some roast rabbit and he asked, ‘Did I not see you take a knife from that Brownie in the corral?’

  ‘I did but then I gave it back to him,’ I replied.

  ‘Why in The Land would you do that?’

  So I told him the story about how I had first met Frank and how I had given the worried Jesse the knife that had been thrown at us on Mount Cas.

  That sat the old guy up. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘You know – the knife with the message that was thrown at Brendan when we were up at the mountain.’

  He shook his head. He looked confused and very concerned.

  ‘Oh yeah, I forgot, you were a bit out of it when it happened and you were gone when I found the knife.’ So I told him the whole story about finding the message in the sheath of the knife, which then led us to the Pinelands. I wanted to get some rest but he insisted I tell him everything in detail, especially describing the knife.

  ‘It was a gold-tipped throwing knife with a green glass handle with a spiral of gold embedded in it. It was almost identical to the one that Queen Rhiannon gave me.’

  Spideog was on his feet now. ‘Where did Rhiannon get her knife?’

  ‘Ah…’ I said, not knowing what could possibly have gotten the old guy so worked up. ‘She said my grandfather Liam gave it to her.’

  ‘We must go now,’ Spideog said, kicking out the fire and knocking my half-eaten rabbit into the dirt.

  ‘What? I thought you said we are safe for a bit.’

  ‘You have had your bit – we leave now.’ He picked up his yew staff and jumped on his horse before I even stood up.

  I struggled onto my horse. It took some hard riding but I finally caught up with him. That didn’t mean he was answering any questions. Whatever I had said that was making him ride at that break-neck speed was not up for discussion. I mumbled back in to my McMantra, clamped my thighs to my poor frightened, overworked mount and zoomed into the remainder of the afternoon.

  As the sun got low in the sky I started recognising landmarks – we were at the outskirts of the Hall of Knowledge. Every bone in my body screamed for rest and every cell of my skin yelled for a bath, but I also dreaded arriving and having to tell the Imps that their prince was dead. I thought about how Essa would take it and then it hit me that I wasn’t sure if she had even made it out of the Alderlands. I kicked my poor horse and bent my back into the wind.

  At dusk, Spideog dropped in next to me, grabbed my horse’s mane and gestured for me not to speak. We dismounted but were spotted by a group of riders in the distance. Spideog looked around for options, cursed under his breath and braced himself for what was to come. We were definitely under-armed. The old guy handed me a throwing blade and held his yew staff in readiness for a fight. I knew that the knife wasn’t going to save me from being killed but at least I would be able to take one down with me.

  As they drew closer Spideog seog said, with relief and then waved. I recognised one of them, a Leprechaun from a training session in the Hall of Knowledge. Fortunately they recognised us as well.

  ‘Did Essa return safely?’ I asked, waving away all of the saluting and bowing. This question confused the senior officer.

  ‘I do not think so,’ he said.

  ‘She never returned from the Alderlands?’

  ‘Oh yes, ages ago. I thought you meant now.’

  ‘Where is she now?’

  ‘She should be a league east of here.’

  ‘Is Turlow with her?’

  Confusion once again crossed the Leprechaun’s face. ‘We are seeking The Turlow.’

  ‘Explain,’ Spideog comma
nded.

  ‘A pair of Brownie swiftriders arrived this morning, waited outside our embattlements and demanded a parley with The Turlow. Turlow wanted to go alone but Dahy insisted he bring a guard. When they met the swiftriders at the bottom of the windward knoll, the guard was killed and The Turlow was taken.’

  Spideog and I exchanged knowing looks. ‘Are you in contact with Essa?’

  ‘I have a whistle but it is only to be used in an emergency.’

  ‘This is that emergency, soldier,’ Spideog said. ‘Blow it.’

  Ten minutes later we heard the thundering hooves of a company in full gallop. Essa saw me and dismounted without even slowing her horse. She hugged me while still at a run and almost knocked me over.

  ‘I thought you were dead.’

  I allowed myself a momentary return hug before I told her my grim news.

  Essa spoke before I could say anything. ‘The Brownies have taken Turlow.’

  ‘No, Essa, they haven’t.’

  ‘What do you mean they haven’t? I saw them.’ She looked around. ‘Where is Araf?’

  Which question should I answer first? Neither was good news. ‘Turlow hasn’t been taken – he has escaped. The Brownies knew that I was coming and they rode here to warn him.’

  Essa threw her shoulders back. ‘Warn him of what? Where is Araf? Where are Brendan and Tuan?’

  ‘Dead,’ I said bluntly, there was no other way. ‘Turlow betrayed us.’

  ‘You lie.’ Her eyes blazed.

  ‘No, I don’t. Turlow is working with Cialtie. Because of his treachery Araf, Brendan and Tuan are dead. I barely escaped with my life.’

  ‘That’s not true.’

  ‘It is true, Princess,’ Spideog said.

  Essa turned to the archer as if she had only just noticed he was there. ‘What do you know, you crazy old hermit! You’ve spent the last hundred years dusting baticks.’ Then she turned on me. ‘You never liked him. You’re jealous, you’re making this up.’

  ‘I’m not, Essa. Use your Owith glass if you don’t believe me.’