Quen Nim (9 page)

“Citizens, our destruction is complete. Though I rave wildly, there will be no peace ever more for me. My cruel sister has tasted her revenge. It is not to be borne willingly. I bear it willingly, singing lightly and dancing. There is nothing left of me but the shadow of a forgotten merry sprite. There is nothing left to do but leave in humiliation. My wish is to leave you, citizens, with one last look at my benevolent and radiant smile.”

So saying, she raised herself almost perceptively and stared blankly straight ahead. The Kinng nodded again to the cartjaggers, so such the signal to move. The cartjaggers sprang to their shafts, and the procession proceeded out and away from the Castle. The nester musicians played until the last of the carts was lost from view. They lowered their instruments, embarrassed and confused. The Castle Boad was without Royalty! Citizens and others, hutters and all, looked one at the other. Toes of boots scraped at the cobbles. Sculgers and crapes shrugged and returned to the kitchens. Where else could they have gone?

Hutters wandered into the fields and took up hoes and clippers as if dazed. Stackers, brushers, washers, brickers, everyone all slowly returned to duty, but moving in the so such newly common dazed way. A single thought was soft syrup oozing through each mind. No Royals ruling the Boad, All Fidd and Leee Combined? No Royals ruling?

In Cloud Castle City, floating in seeming serenity above a nearby oat field, a smaller bustling frenzy took place in Lady May's Throne Room. Lady May herself flew about flapping her wings with such vigor and force that the tapestries lifted in flutters from the walls.

“What about the Boad, All Fidd and Leee Combined?” asked Jay Dot of no one in particular.

“Do ye know your own daughter?” snarled Rindle Mer, pacing, pacing, pacing, flexing and relaxing, flexing and relaxing, her webbed-fingered hands.

Old Dabber, deep in thought, sat, chin resting on the palm of his right hand.

Directly beneath Cloud Castle City, a softly smiling hutter, who was in fact not a hutter, slept on, unaware of and unaffected by the newly hatched dismay attending the stunning reality of the Boad, All Fidd and Leee Combined stripped in a sudden shocking flash of its Royalty.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Zootch Ponders

Zootch sat up, yawned and stretched. He was momentarily surprised to see himself wearing hutter field boots and tannerbritches. Huh? …Oh … Ah, yes. He touched the invisible Cap of Cloak on his head.

She should give up and come flying in today if I calculate correctly, and of course I do, thought Zootch. Now where should I plant myself to be found? She'll probably head straight for Cloud Castle City to confess her defeat. Hmmmm … Or maybe she won't. She might go straight to the Queeeeeeeeeeeeeeen. I need to find a spot where it won't matter and I can see her wherever she goes. More important, where she can see me. Yes, just this side of the drawbridge will do nicely. When she appears, I'll lift the Cap of Cloak, give her a peek, then jam it back on. That'll plant the future, true and bold, no turning back. Whew … Gives me a shiver. I'll be Kig.

Zootch melted on his tongue the last of the gadapple blossom petals he'd brought away from the Outerest Orchard. He sprang jauntily to his feet and stepped to the path. He whistled an old Blossom pruning tune as he strolled with his thumbs thrust in the waistband of his tannerbritches. He nodded to hutters combing, clipping, and raking the fields. The hutters blinked and smiled vaguely.

An oddment, thought Zootch. Ah well, early morning drowsiness, I suppose. The hutters mayhap do not perk up until later in the day. Logical it is, with all of their singing, dancing and storytelling at night. When I'm Kig, I should do something to brighten their mornings. Dawn fireworks, perhaps? Dawn fireworks. Hmmmm … A certainty. I'll decree it!

Zootch puffed out his chest and walked taller. He so such already felt himself to be Kig. He could almost feel the elegance of the crown. He wore a smile of benevolence.

I will be known throughout forever as Good Kig Zootch. Zootch, the Good. Zootch, the Kind. Zootch, the Most Intelligent. Zootch of the Agile Mind. I shall eat ladgecake every day and snack on gadapple blossom petals in season.

Down the path stumbled and staggered a wild herd of fleece tended by a pair of wild miffens. The little puffball miffens, one orange, one purple, zoomed through the air banging at the waddlers of the darbeast flooce in front, prodding him to lead the others on. Zootch stepped aside to let ‘em pass and spoke to a pair of honeytraders trailing in their wake.

“Rare day for wild fleece, eh?” he said amiably. He even bowed, so such almost doffing his Cap of Cloak, but checking himself in time.

“To be sure, hutter. Rare day for more than one reason. Isn't it delicious? Won't we have a story to tell when we get home to Honeygold?” eagerly gossiped the trader on the left, the one wearing a white and yellow striped jerkin. “Did you ever see or think a thing like that could happen?”

“What happened? I've been away,” asked and explained Zootch, a weed patch of worry sprouting in his snapjaw mind.

“Oh, then, don't you know?” said the other trader, the one on the right, the one wearing yellow cap, yellow shirt, white vest, yellow leggers. “The Castle Boad is without Royalty!”

“How do you mean?” asked Zootch, feeling weak in the knees.

The first trader nudged in front of his partner and dramatically announced, “Gave up! Gone off! Zilp and Forr! We sold all of our pots of honey as well as our cart! They needed all of everything they could get for the journey.”

“Let me tell, Thim!” said the other, nudging forward.

“Do tell. You tell best, Boots!” agreed Thim, giving way.

“The Kinng and the Queeeeeeeeeeeeeeen left today at dawn for retirement!” spouted Boots importantly. “Yes! No wedding! No Royals! The Cloud Castle Princess with the snapjaw mind has disappeared! The Blossom Prince has disappeared! Run off scared, they say. Gone! No Royal to rule the Boad, All Fidd and Leee Combined!”

“But Cloud Castle City is …,” offered Zootch.

“Still there, yes, one wonders,” said Thim, nudging forward. “If we weren't duty bound to return to Clover, we would stay and wait to see what happens.”

“Yes,” agreed Boots, nudging forward. “Business comes first. Honey can't go hauling itself around, can it?”

“No, I suppose not,” mumbled Zootch, his snapjaw mind having truly left the conversation to race in circles, chasing answers.

I should announce myself instantly. No, I shouldn't. I should wait for Nimble Missst to appear. No, I shouldn't. I'll take the Cap off right here now! No, I won't! I'll go to the Castle and … No, I won't. Cloud Castle City is there. I will demand that it … No, I won't. I will chant the Cap to take me to Aunt Zilp! NO!! No, no, no, not that. I will …

By this time the miffens had turned the wild herd of fleece onto an easterly path. The honeytraders headed south, having completed their satisfying gossip-filled conversation with Zootch, a conversation Zootch efficiently took part in without so such even knowing it. Rooted to the road, he froze with snapjaw indecision.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Motty Complains, Nimby Explains

“Is it morning? Are we gone? Is it sunsink? Are we wrong?” sang Motty, emerging so such from sleep in confusion.

“Ridiculous! Up! This game is over. The ridiculous Zootch is waiting for me to find him at the Castle Boad. Come along, Motty. Gather yourself. We fly now to end this ridiculous trifle,” said Nimble Missst merrily, so fizzed was she with bubbles of confidence.

Motty rolled her eyes, looped her tongue around her neck and said, “Gaaaaacckk!”

“Ah, ye are tired then. Is that it?” asked Nimble Missst, still merrily, still fizzed.

“Gaaaaacckk!” answered Motty.

“Oh, I see. Ye can't fly another ounce without more rest, ye say. Well, I say ye can. Ye can and ye will. Do ye know why ye can and ye will?” continued the chatty, light-hearted Nimby.

“Gaaaaacckk?” said Motty.

“A fine guess, but not correct. Now unwind your ridiculous tongue and stash it where it belongs, and put this silver cape back into your pocket while I explain to ye all and everything,” said Nimby, and though she wasn't smiling, her eyes were sparkle bright and her eyebrows arched as she handed the cape to Motty. “Possessed of a snapjaw mind, I know much and more about all kinds of sorts of things. Such like as for example, wind currents. There is a thick and powerful river of wind high above these Woods just now. Ye have not sensed it, of course, have ye?”

Reeling in her tongue, Motty shook her head.

“As expected. I say to ye it will be a thrill to ride! Where is it racing? Straight to above the Castle Boad! Ye merely spread your wings and it carries ye fiercely swift! Not one flap will ye need to spend from here all the way to the Castle! Except of course right now to get up to it. I'll tell ye what, ridiculous old Motty. Ye grasp my ankles and I'll pull ye up to the current. What about that? It will be ridiculous fun!” said the now almost too giddy Nimble Missst.

“Ankles?” Motty managed to say, not sing, so such fuddled was she at her little Nim's extraordinary behavior.

“No No song? I want ye to sing. I want to hear ridiculous songs as the river of wind carries me to victory! Here is how it will be,” said Nimble Missst, and she raised her hands like as if to frame a picture. “The ridiculous Prince, the Zootch, ridiculous name, will be watching for my return. He thinks that I will arrive drooping with defeat. Hah! He will reveal his true form, casting off his hutter disguise. No, no, that must not happen. It will not! I must creep up and unmask him, unCAP him, myself. He'll be searching the sky. He'll be … Hmmmm … at the drawbridge. Yes, definitely, at the ridiculous unnecessary drawbridge.”

Nimble Missst paced as she spoke, throwing out her hands left and right in gesture. Motty followed her every move and listened to her every word with wonder and pride.

“So we'll drop from the wind river to the oat field one span beyond his scope of sight. I calculate … Hmmmmm … taking into account the full possible range of Blossom Royalty visionary sharpness … Hmmmmm … the blue and gray striped hutter cottage we passed over on our earlier way will do nicely. Yes, we'll land at the blue and gray. Ye will remain in the oats. I will creep as low green fog into the ridiculous unnecessary Castle moat. I'll circle around to under the drawbridge, seep up through the planks and uncap him from behind! Grasp my ankles, Motty. Grasp my ridiculous ankles!”

Motty sprawled forward to obey without a word. The powerful thrust, flap and whump of Nimble Missst's powder blue wings lifted the two of ‘em off the ground. Whump, whump, whump, whump, Nimby circled up and up and up until the rushing river of wind swept ‘em into its flow. Motty spread her stubby yellow wings and instantly lost her grip on Nimby's ankles. She pitched forward, waving all of her legs and arms in a wild sort of a panic. Eyes wide and mouth gaping, she learned to ride the rush. She quickly gained knowledge of how to kick her legs, under, out, bend or straighten, in order to remain on track. She began to enjoy herself so such and sang out loudly her favorite Cloud Castle songs. Ahead her Nimby Nim bounced along, slapped by the wind. She raised a wing, left, right, level, ever adjusting to maintain straight flight.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Nimby and Zootch

Motty rested at ease in the blue and gray striped conical cottage. Ever was she welcome in any hutter home so such because of her eagerness to sing, her eagerness to make clumsy amusing attempts at dance, and more so truth because of her glad spirit. She was greatly admired by hutters throughout the oat fields. Hutter hospitality to any and all was, so said, widely known, but they especially prized visits from Motty. Thus when Motty plopped down in the field near the blue and gray cottage, she marched without hesitation to its door, knocked once, sang out “Here's Motty!”, opened the door, and entered without invitation. Thus was she that at ease with hutters. She supposed properly that the hutters were away at work in the oat fields. She knew without doubt they would be delighted to find her there when they returned for midday meal. Motty went to work straightening and smoothing her trouser legs, so bunched and wrinkled had they been by the buffeting gusts of the churning wind river. She selected which song she would sing to greet the hutters. She practiced it humming and wondered how Nimby was faring.

Nimby was faring well, alert with snapjaw mind crispness. Flowing low through the oat stalks, she approached the Castle moat from the side opposite the drawbridge. Down she seeped to the water and spread in a long thin finger of green fog around to under the drawbridge. She gathered into a dense green cloud and rose to seep between the planks. She expected to sense Zootch sitting and gazing skyward. She found instead an unoccupied drawbridge. Was she alarmed? Did her confidence sag? I tell you Nimby's mind blazed so such with precision that she wasn't bothered at all.

So. Something other happened. What? she thought, and she knew what it was in a snapjaw flash. Where are the carts? Hah! The ridiculous Zilp gave up on me. She left to retirement … Hmmmm … The tracks say dawn … I'll turn her back soon enough. Ridiculous. Else? Else? Of course the ridiculous Prince was turned by the news from the path which would have led him to be sitting here looking for me. He, of course, was unable with his primitive version of a snapjaw mind to deal efficiently with an unexpected event. Well, let's see, he would have spent the night … Hmmmm … sleeping in an oat field. Yes, and not far off. He woke up late. Yes. On his way to the drawbridge he learned the news of the departure from some gossipy hutter or … Hmmmm … better yet, a Clover honeytrader. They are the chattiest. What did Zootch do when he heard? Why, the ridiculous Blossom Prince froze on the spot, plagued by his inadequate mind's indecision! Hah! I'll seep low in the oats beside the path south. There, of course, is where honeytraders would be traveling on their way home to Clover.