Prince of Hazel and Oak. John Lenahan
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‘Ah. I pay little attention to the gossip of the castle but I now remember hearing of you.’ Spideog turned to me. ‘If I may, my lord, all that you say is true but that is not why I fired on the voyager. The reason I stopped him was because he looks uncannily like a Fili.’
‘Why would you attack a Fili?’ I asked.
‘These bows belonged to Maeve’s Druid archers from the Fili war.’
‘Oh my gods,’ I said, ‘these are from the soldiers who were killed when Maeve’s massive Shadowspell backfired.’
‘That is correct.’
‘But why were they not buried with the dead?’
‘Who said they are dead?’
‘Ah – everybody.’
‘I was there, Prince, I saw no bodies.’
‘What?’
‘Everyone presumes the Fili died when Maeve performed her foul witchcraft but I saw no dead. I saw an amber wave, I saw the Fili scream and writhe in pain but then they vanished. Behind them they left their clothes and weapons, in fact all of their earthly possessions – but no bodies.’
‘No body, no murder,’ Brendan mumbled.
‘Gosh,’ I said, ‘where have I heard that before?’
‘Most think I’m mad,’ said Spideog, ‘but I live here in the armoury and guard against their return.’
‘He is a bit mad,’ Mom said later that night when I told her about my adventure in the armoury. (I left out the part where Spideog aimed an arrow at my neck. You know how Mom gets when somebody tries to hurt me.) ‘But there is no better fighter in The Land. He has even bested Dahy. While Cialtie was on the Oak Throne he lived deep in the Yewlands and reportedly waged a pretty effective one-man resistance war against Cialtie’s Banshee patrols.’
‘Apparently Dad doesn’t like him.’
‘Oh, he drives your father crazy. To be honest, that’s one of the things I like best about Spideog,’ Mom said with a mischievous grin that quickly changed into the frown that she seemed to always be wearing these days.
‘And he keeps that armoury so tidy.’
Chapter Nine
Mother Oak
I didn’t see much of Brendan for the next couple of days. He spent almost all of his time in the armoury with Spideog and I spent most of that time sitting with Dad. Mom said maybe he could hear us, so I read him stories from books I found in the library. Even if he couldn’t hear, it was good for me. Many of the tales were about Duir so it helped me bone up on family history and it also improved my ancient Gaelic reading skills. Mom said we were going to be doing a lot of research when we got to the Hazellands.
I read a chronicle of the Fili war. Fand’s mother Maeve really did lose it. She not only decimated much of the Rowan forest but took out a lot of alder trees as well – another reason why the Brownies shun everybody in The Land. I read nursery rhymes about not killing animals because they might be Pookas, not sleeping under alders and a story about a bunch of guys who sailed away from The Land and got old. I even tried to decipher Elven poetry. I needed a dictionary for that.
As I sat by his bed conjugating a verb I started to laugh. ‘Gosh, Pop,’ I said aloud, ‘I probably shouldn’t do this in front of you. The shock of me doing language homework, on my own, could kill you.’ I stared through the amber to see if I could detect the slightest of smiles. I thought I saw something move but maybe that was just the water welling up in my eyes.
When I wasn’t with Dad I spent the rest of my time in my room throwing a knife I found in the armoury. If this knife had once had a gold tip it was now well worn off. Let me tell you, without Dahy’s magic points, these suckers are hard to throw.
Aein came in while I was practising my knife-play. She gave me a dirty look and said, ‘Like father like son,’ then informed me that my mother and her entourage would leave at dawn. I went looking for Brendan to tell him. I found him in the armoury practising archery with Spideog. They already knew – Spideog was heading up the Queen’s guard.
Every time I go on a trip in this place the person who plans it says, ‘We leave at dawn.’ What is it with that? Why doesn’t someone say, ‘Let’s leave ten-ish,’ or ‘Whenever you get up will be fine.’ No. Dawn it always is. And leaving at dawn means just that, so you have to get up at least an hour before dawn! I’m not very good before noon, so getting up before dawn means the majority of my day is useless.
Brendan was awake and ready when I got to his room.
‘You’re late,’ he said.
‘So shoot me. Oh wait, you already tried that.’ I’m not only useless in the morning, I can also be a bit testy.
‘I was going to make my way to the stables by myself but I didn’t want your mother to ju-jitsu me into a wall when she saw me. What did she say when you told her I was coming?’
‘Eh – I haven’t quite told her yet.’
‘Oh great.’
‘You see, my motto is it’s always easier to apologise than it is to ask permission.’
‘That’s a fine philosophy if it’s not you flying butt over noggin in the air.’
‘Fair point,’ I said. ‘I’ll protect you – just don’t touch her.’
‘The thought of you protecting me fills me with so much confidence,’ Brendan said sarcastically. ‘Don’t worry. My hands won’t go near your momma.’
As is usual for these crack-of-dawn riding parties, everyone was pretty much saddled up and ready to go by the time I arrived. Being a royal personage means that most people don’t give me any verbal grief for tardiness but that doesn’t stop the dirty looks.
Mom of course is the exception to that rule. She was just about to chew my head off for being late when she saw Brendan.
‘What is he doing here?’
‘Chill, Mom, he’s with me.’
‘I most certainly will not chill, whatever that means – I will not have him coming with us.’
I took a deep breath and said, ‘I am a prince of Duir and this man is under my protection. He travels with me.’
Mom and I stared into each other’s eyes. I had never stood up to my mother and I was pretty sure pulling a royal card on her wasn’t going to work. We glared at each other for about five seconds – the longest five seconds of my life – before she said, ‘Very well. Hurry up, you have made us late.’
When I started breathing again and my heart rate dropped down to a manageable rhythm, I was addressed by a Leprechaun I remembered from the ruined stables in the Hall of Knowledge.
‘Greetings, Lord Conor. It is good to see you again. When Lady Deirdre told me you needed your horse I was not sure which one she meant, so I saddled both.’
A stable-hand led out two sights for sore eyes. ‘Acorn! Cloud!’ I yelled. I didn’t know which one to hug first and I certainly didn’t want to insult one over the other. A woman scorned is trouble but a jealous horse can pitch you into a ravine. I patted both snouts simultaneously. Since Cloud is the easier ride, I suspected that she was the less