Prince of Hazel and Oak s-2

by John Lenahan

  I had no idea what she looked like two days previously, but by this conversation new shoots and small, almost fluorescent leaves covered all of her boughs. She may be the oldest thing in The Land but to me, she looked brand new.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mother Oak,’ I said.

  ‘Oh now, don’t listen to me, with all of the excitement in Duir I probably would have scolded you if you had not awoken me. But my, my, your father was a rude awakening. I have never seen a man with such energy. It was hard to keep up with his so many thoughts.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m sorry about him too. He’s been pretty embarrassing lately.’

  ‘From what I can tell, it seems that it is a father’s responsibility to embarrass his offspring.’

  ‘Maybe so but he is taking it to a whole new level.’

  Dad had jumped out of his deathbed with the energy of a five-year-old who had just eaten an entire bag of Halloween candy. What really spooked me was that he looked my age – some said he even looked younger. After lots of hugging and kissing and jumping and stng into mirrors – and way too much loud whooping – he insisted I tell him everything that had happened since he had been paperweight-ed. When I finally finished the whole adventure, he ordered new clothes (he had been listening to my story wrapped only in a sheet, like some Roman emperor) and horses. We eventually convinced him that travelling in the pitch dark would be a bad idea, so he ordered a crack-of-dawn departure for the Hall of Knowledge. I really could have used a lie-in and a day off but Dad had lost the meaning of ‘lie-in’ along with his grey hair. I tried to convince Tuan to give me a lift but he made it clear that he was not an air taxi service.

  We rode to the Hazellands in record time. (There was none of that stopping and resting stuff.) We were greeted by Dahy and Queen Rhiannon. The Pookas had arrived with reinforcements only a day after I had left. Red/Moran had made peace with the Queen and had flown around long enough to make sure that Cialtie and his army had really retreated back into the Reed and Alderlands. Then he flew back to his island.

  Dad, despite his newly imposed adolescence, acted mostly kingly. He visited the wounded and held meetings about future defences and the allocation of the kingdom’s resources, but at other times he acted annoyingly juvenile, usually by challenging me to arm wrestles or grabbing Mom and dragging her kissing and giggling into any nearby tent.

  ‘I am sure he will calm down soon,’ Mother Oak said, reading my thoughts. ‘I have never grown young, but I have certainly grown old – it must be an exciting thing for him.’

  ‘I know. It’s just a bit – freaky.’

  ‘But enough about your father, Prince of Hazel and Oak, how went your winter?’

  How went my winter? Gods, now there was a question.

  ‘Busy,’ I said with a sarcastic laugh. ‘You know, the first time I came to The Land I was just trying to stay alive. This time I spent the whole time trying to keep my father alive. For once I would love to spend some time here having… fun.’

  ‘Oh my my,’ Mother Oak said and I could feel her sad smile. ‘Oh, I have heard that grumble before. Responsibility is what you complain about. As far as I can tell, as you get older, responsibility is what replaces fun.’

  ‘That sounds like a bad deal to me.’

  ‘To me as well, but I can tell you this. The ones that do not shoulder their responsibilities may stay young but – they never stay happy.’

  ‘So what,’ I said, ‘I should grow up, do my duty, and stop cracking jokes.’

  ‘I am not here to tell you any such thing,’ she said forcefully. ‘Who am I to give advice? I do nothing but stick in the ground and bathe in the sunlight all day. If you are looking for advice there are countless better than me. But it seems to me that you do not need advice. You did what needed to be done. You saved your father from death and the Pookas from extinction. You reunited Moran and Rhiannon, and were victorious against Cialtie and Turlow’s forces in the face of overwhelming odds. I have known men centuries older than you who have grown less. No one need counsel you on responsibility.’

  ‘You know, Mother Oak, I hink if I burned down a house you would probably compliment me on what nice ashes I made.’

  ‘As long as the house was not made of oak,’ she said and in my mind I felt her wooden smile.

  Maybe it wasn’t just hollow praise, maybe I had grown up a bit. I wasn’t sure I liked it. What had been bothering me most lately was the pain of Spideog’s loss. Not that it hurt too much but that it hurt too little. I knew war and death had become too commonplace for me, but even after all I had been through, I should have had tears for Spideog.

  ‘Do not worry that you have yet to grieve for the archer,’ Mother Oak said, interrupting my thoughts. ‘The tears will come soon, or perhaps not for a year, but they will come. Grief makes its own appointments.’

  I hugged her and hoped that she was right.

  ‘Conor,’ she said before I left, ‘although I never understand them, I think it would be a shame if you no longer told your jokes.’

  I whistled for my horse, gave Mother Oak one last hug and dropped directly into the saddle.

  I rode quickly back to Castle Duir. All this talk of responsibility made me realise I had one more thing to do.

  The cold thin air bounced off the warm woollen cap that Mom insisted I wear. At first she forbade me to go on this trip. Like almost everyone, she was dead set against me making this journey. When I put my foot down she actually threatened to have me locked in the dungeon. When I finally convinced her and everyone else that I would probably be OK, considering my travelling companion was a fire-breathing dragon, she insisted that at least I wear long underwear and the woollen cap. The cap I must admit was nice and toasty – the underwear itched a bit.

  I patted Dragon Tuan on his green scaly back and shouted, ‘You sure you’re not lost?’

  In reply he banked sharply to the left and bucked. I grabbed tight onto the makeshift dragon reins that the stable master and I had quickly invented earlier that day.

  ‘OK, OK,’ I shouted. ‘You lose all sense of humour when you’re in reptilian form.’

  I looked down at the passing Tir na Nogian topography below. Winter was in its last clutches. Every once in a while brave crocuses or a tree defiantly popped a dab of colour into the dying season’s grey and brown landscape. It wouldn’t be long before it was shorts and tee-shirt weather. I was looking forward to that.

  I breathed deeply and collected my thoughts. It was good to be alone for a moment – without Dad around. Since his re-adolescence, every time he saw me he challenged me to a sword-fight or, worse, a wrestling match. A couple of days ago, as he was pinning me with my arm twisted up my back, I asked him if we could talk without violence. I finally impressed on him that I would like it if he acted more like my father and less like an annoying younger brother. He promised he would be more fatherly and then punched me hard in the arm – this was going to take time.

  Dahy vehemently didn’t want me to go. The old master wasn’t big on giving succour to enemies. He also thought this trip was a waste of resources. Dahy was g ho about putting together an attack force to storm the Oracle on Mount Cas but Dad ordered him to calm down. Dahy insisted that Macha, Dad’s mother, was alive, but Dad said finding an old knife didn’t prove anything – no matter what some crazy old archer said. (Dad and Spideog had never seen eye to eye.) Dahy didn’t like it but he accepted the orders from the teenage-looking King. In fact everyone seemed to think that a king that looked like he wasn’t even old enough to drink was just fine.

  Essa and I started getting on very well indeed. I took Spideog’s dying advice and told her how I felt. I said if she promised not to try to kill me again that I would like to have a go at a relationship. She didn’t say yes but then again she didn’t say no either and we had been pretty snuggly ever since. She even said that she wanted to take a trip to see the Real World with me when we send Brendan back home.

  I looked up to the heavens and said a silent thanks to
Spideog. If anybody saw my eyes at that point I would have told them they were watering because of the cold air, but the truth was the tears Mother Oak had promised would someday come – came. I finally felt the loss of that strange but sweet old archer.

  I took out my white flag when I saw alder trees below. Our first pass over Fearn Keep was high, out of crossbow range. As we circled lower the Brownies showed uncharacteristic restraint and didn’t fire at us. Tuan banked sharply to the right and dropped altitude.

  ‘Hey,’ I shouted at him, ‘I almost fell off back there.’

  Tuan wasn’t the best flyer in the sky but I wasn’t going to tell him that. He was still a bit touchy about the ribbing he had been getting after he accidentally landed on two Leprechauns, breaking one of their arms.

  We landed far enough away from the main entrance so as to not freak everybody out and so that if Tuan landed on his face, people wouldn’t see. There have been smoother landings. I jumped off when we started tipping and Tuan hit the ground rolling.

  When he finally righted himself, I patted his side and said, ‘How are the ballet lessons going?’

  He turned and gave me the dragon equivalent of a dirty look – and when you are stared at by someone who can breathe fire, that’s pretty scary. Tuan stayed in his dragon form until a Brownie battalion arrived. Once they knew we were here on a diplomatic mission and not to eat ice cream and Brownies, Tuan became Tuan again.

  ‘There’s a saying that pilots use in the Real World that goes, “Any landing you walk away from is a good landing.”’

  Tuan delivered another dirty look – this one, less scary. ‘You want to walk home?’

  Tuan transformed into bodyguard bear and in his arms he carried the reason we had come. At the main gate I declared who I was to the sergeant at arms and asked for an audience with King Bwika. When he told us that we would have to wait in the guest wing, I informed him that we were to see the Brownie King now or we were going home. He came back ten minutes later and informed us that we were, ‘in luck’, and the King would see us immediately.

  We were still made to wait a short time outside the throne room but were then escorted on a long wa between two rows of hastily dressed Brownie honour guard. They did not look kindly on me or my bear. I am sure they had all heard by now that he was one of the dragons that incinerated many of their comrades. I felt like an away-team supporter in a crowd of home-team football fans. King Bwika sat on a dais in his Alder Throne. I approached and bowed my low bow.

  Before I could start my practised royal protocol speech, the King said, ‘You have a cheek coming here.’

  ‘This visit is neither diplomatic nor is it some sort of victory lap; I come on a sorry task.’ I threw back the blanket that covered Tuan’s burden and then carefully took the shrouded body into my own arms. ‘I have come to return to you the body of your son.’ I stepped up on the dais and laid Frank at his father’s feet.

  Bwika was speechless as I backed away down the steps.

  ‘Did you kill him, Faerie?’ came an angry voice from behind the throne that made me and the King jump. I hadn’t recognised the voice but when he stepped into the light I of course knew the face.

  ‘No, Jesse,’ I replied.

  ‘My name is Codna.’

  ‘Of course, Prince Codna,’ I said, bowing. ‘I did not kill him. If I had arrived earlier and had recognised your brother I would have done all that I could to prevent it. But I was too late.’

  ‘Who did kill him?’ the King asked.

  ‘If it is vengeance you seek, Your Highness, then you should know that the one that killed your son was also killed by him.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Spideog, Your Highness.’

  ‘My son killed Spideog – the warrior archer?’

  ‘He did.’

  King Bwika sat higher in his seat. ‘Then he did indeed die a noble death.’

  ‘He certainly was brave,’ I said, ‘but I don’t think I can call anything about this war noble. I knew your son, Your Highness, and even though we had our differences, I liked him. I am very sorry for your loss and I am here to try to make sure that no other fathers lose their sons. What can I do to persuade you to stop this aggression against Cull and Duir?’

  The Brownie King sat back in his chair and said, ‘Give us what is our due. Give us Castle Duir and the mines beneath.’

  ‘You know I can’t do that.’

  ‘Your audience is ended, Son of Duir. Returning my son to me has saved your life today but in the future you will no longer be welcome in the Alderlands.’

  I had also rehearsed a royal-style exit speech but since he was no longer being nice I just said, ‘I want my horses.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I left my horses at Fearn Point. I assume that you now have them.’

  The King came as close to standing as his hulking frame would allow. ‘Are you accusing…’

  ‘The horses are in our corral,’ Jesse said, ‘I will take you to them.’

  The King turned to his son. ‘You most certainly will not.’

  ‘Prince Conor has been good to me in the past, Father. He brought Demne back to us and now I am going to give him his horses.’

  I don’t think I ever really knew the definition of flabbergasted until I saw the look on King Bwika’s face. Jesse turned and walked out between the honour guard gauntlet and we followed. I’m sure that all three of us expected a crossbow bolt in our backs at any time. I know I did.

  Jesse didn’t say anything until we reached the gates of the corral. When he turned, his face and collar were drenched with silent tears. As soon as we looked at each other he flew in to my arms and buried his face into my chest.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Codna,’ I said while stroking his hair. I know it was silly and he was probably older than me but he felt like the little brother I never had.

  His crying jag didn’t last long and when he finally straightened up and wiped his eyes he said, ‘You can still call me Jesse if you want.’

  I smiled at him and he tried hard to return it. ‘I wish things were different,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah, Jesse, me too.’

  Cloud, Acorn and Araf and Turlow’s horses had, by this time, made it over to where we were standing. Jesse ordered the stable boy to fetch two saddles but Tuan said, ‘Just one,’ and then changed himself into a horse.

  ‘You keep The Turlow’s mount,’ I said to Jesse. ‘His name is Fluffy. He’s a good horse and he deserves a better master than his last one.’

  ‘Will I ever see you again, Conor?’

  ‘I hope so,’ I said.

  ‘And if I do, will we still be friends?’

  ‘Ah, Jesse, wouldn’t this place be so much better if it was run by smart people like us?’ I said, flashing a Fergal-esque smile. ‘Others can make us enemies, Jesse, but no one can unmake us friends.’ I patted him on the shoulder. ‘Be safe, my Brownie friend.’

  As I rode away I felt worse with every step. Poor Jesse, stuck alone in that castle without his brother and with a stupid misguided father. I toyed with the idea of turning around and taking him with me but I was certain that that would only end in more tears.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Get a Room

  ‘Why don’t you two get a room?’

  ‘We have a room,’ Dad said while coming up for air after kissing Mom‘As a matter of fact, we have a whole castle.’

  ‘Well, why didn’t you do all of this in your room?’ I asked.

  ‘We did,’ Mom replied with a smile I wasn’t all that comfortable with. ‘Sorry if we embarrass you, I’m sure your father will calm down in a couple of years.’

  I looked over to Brendan for support, but he and Nieve were lip-locked as well.

  ‘Oh for crying out loud,’ I protested.

  ‘Conor,’ my aunt said, ‘I do not know when I will see Brendan again.’

  ‘You’ve decided to stay in the Real World?’ I asked.

  Brendan shook his head. ‘I still don’t
know, Conor.’

  ‘So what, you’re going to go back to being a cop?’

  ‘I was a good cop.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ I sneered. ‘The last bit of detective-ing you did was to accuse me of killing him,’ I said, pointing to Dad.

  ‘Well, I knew there was something squirrely about your family and I was right about that.’

  Dad untangled himself from Mom and walked over to Brendan. ‘You are forever welcome in Duir. The job of armoury master is vacant at the moment.’

  ‘Brendan, Master-at-Arms of Duir,’ Nieve said, ‘I like the sound of that.’

  ‘I do too,’ Brendan replied, looking at his feet, ‘but my first responsibility is to my daughter. Until I see her, I have no idea what to do.’

  We all turned when we heard horse’s hooves coming from the corridor. Essa and Fand appeared at the archway followed by Tuan leading Essa’s horse.

  ‘I thought you were going to be my horse on this expedition,’ I said to Tuan.

  ‘Your mother did not think that was a good idea,’ the Pooka said.

  ‘Well then come as a dragon – we can be on television and freak the whole world out.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Tuan said but he smiled and his ears fuzzed up for a moment as if he liked the idea. ‘Be careful in the Real World, my friend.’

  Fand walked up to Brendan and said, ‘I am very pleased to have met you, pool-eece-man. It does my heart good to see that at least one of the exiled ones is so well. May the blessings of the Fili live with you – Druid.’ Brendan bowed and Fand placed her hands on his head. ‘And give my regards to your tree-hugging mother.’

  Brendan smiled. ‘I will, Your Highness. I can’t wait to tell her that I know the Queen of the Druids.’

  ‘Are you sure you are up to this?’ my mother asked Essa.

  Essa nodded. She had volunteered to act as our sorceress for this journey to return Brendan to the Real World. I was going too.