Chapter 9

 

 

A low wooden platform had been set up for the wedding, complete with an archway entwined with brilliant red poinsettias and silver unicorns. Giselle had discovered that Nem-Nemon had brought them to the Kingdom of the Silver Moon and its King Roger was to perform the marriage between Mother Poinsettia and Tol-Tolin.

 

Nem-Nemon helped Mother Poinsettia up onto the platform, whilst Tol-Tolin refused any assistance.

 

‘I’m deaf, not a cripple!’ he shouted when Kil-Kilthin went to help him.

 

Then the elderly pair were standing under the arch and King Roger began the marriage rites.

 

‘Friends, one and all, wizards and witches, folk of all manner, I bid you welcome to the marriage between Mother Poinsettia and Tol-Tolin,’ he began.

 

‘What’s he saying?’ Tol-Tolin yelled. ‘Can’t hear a damn thing.’

 

‘I’ll tell you what he said later, dear,’ Mother Poinsettia said calmly to him. ‘Just pretend you can hear him. Carry on, your majesty.’

 

King Roger smiled at them, apparently used to Tol-Tolin’s outbursts it appeared.

 

‘I’m sure many of you are surprised at their decision to become husband and wife…’

 

This was greeted by agreeing murmurs from some of the witches and wizards who looked upon the marriage with some suspicion. But others smiled, happy the pair had found happiness in each others company.

 

‘… Tol-Tolin has been my kingdom’s loyal wizard for many generations and hopefully for many more,’ King Roger went on. ‘And I warmly welcome Mother Poinsettia to our family and hope she will be happy here.’

 

As King Roger spoke Giselle was a little shocked to see Stone-Fist and Iron-Ear shedding a few tears. Even though she hadn’t known them long, they had seemed a bit too rough and tough to have a cry.

 

‘I love a wedding!’ Stone-Fist whimpered through his tears. ‘Just chokes me up for some reason.’

 

She put an arm about the dwarf’s broad shoulders.

 

‘It’s okay, Stone-Fist,’ she said, a tear in her own eyes. ‘A lot of people cry at weddings.’

 

‘Troll’s breath! Now you’ve got me all misty eyed!’ Crimson Bone said with a sniff.

 

‘So,’ King Roger went on. ‘If there is anyone here who feels there is a reason why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace.’

 

A few witches and wizards muttered under their breaths that there were plenty of reasons, but no-one actually spoke up.

 

‘Then do you, Mother Poinsettia, take this wizard, Tol-Tolin as your husband to love and cherish till your days are done?’

 

‘I do,’ Mother Poinsettia answered with a tear in her white eyes.

 

‘And do you, Tol-Tolin, take this witch, Mother Poinsettia, to be your wife to love and cherish till your days are done?’

 

Tol-Tolin stood there, silent as he stared at the king.

 

‘Say I do, dear,’ Mother Poinsettia said to him.

 

‘Of course I do!’ Tol-Tolin shouted. ‘What am I doing here if I’m not going to say I do!’

 

King Roger sighed patiently.

 

‘Then by the power invested in me as King of the Kingdom of the Silver Moon, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife.’

 

At that a great cheer went up from the guests, many clapping and whistling in delight. Some rice was thrown over the pair and Mother Poinsettia tossed her bridal bouquet over a shoulder. It was caught unthinkingly by a witch in the crowd and a look of terror filled her face.

 

Folk came up to congratulate the pair and Giselle, Crimson Bone, Stone-Fist and Iron-Ear stood back a little from the throng.

 

‘Well, that was lovely,’ Stone-Fist gushed, still dabbing at a few tears with a sleeve. ‘They make an interesting couple.’

 

‘Remind me never to go to another wedding with you, Stone-Fist,’ Crimson Bone said with a wink at Giselle. ‘A pirate’s reputation… even a fake one like me can be ruined by a tear in their eye.’

 

‘Your soft side is safe with us, Crimson,’ Iron-Ear said with a grin.

 

‘I wonder where they’ll go for their honeymoon?’ Giselle asked.

 

That got the pirate and the dwarves discussing options for someone who was blind and another who was deaf. But as they talked Giselle suddenly heard a sound rising above all the guests chatter. It was a high pitched scream, of something moving through the air at incredible speed.

 

She looked up into the sky, a feeling of dread coming over her. Others were looking up too, the chatter dying away. Then Giselle spotted the figure of Henbane atop her broomstick. The witch came into land in the clearing and dismounting, strode across the grass toward Giselle.

 

‘She doesn’t look very happy,’ Iron-Ear said in some disquiet.

 

Giselle and the others could see that quite clearly, an expression of fury on the witch’s face. Her long dark hair was streaming behind her as if driven by an unseen wind and her cloak was snapping and crackling with magic.

 

Nem-Nemon suddenly appeared beside Giselle and put a hand on her shoulder.

 

‘Stay calm, princess,’ he said reassuringly. ‘There’s nothing she can do to you here.’

 

Giselle swallowed nervously, wondering if that were true as the witch looked angry enough to do anything. She stopped before them and pointed at Giselle.

 

‘Give me the girl!’ she snapped, eying Nem-Nemon with a livid glare. ‘Give me the girl or I’ll make your life a misery for the rest of your days.’

 

‘Giselle is under my protection,’ Nem-Nemon said calmly. ‘You can’t have her.’

 

Henbane’s expression turned even more sinister if that were possible.

 

‘I think I’ll just take her. You’ve left your staff behind again, wizard,’ she said with a sly sneer. ‘In fact, none of the wizards of the Dark Order have their staffs here. You might have some minor spells up your sleeves, but without your staffs you’re no match for me. And the wizards of the Wizardry Order are no threat… useless bookworms and shopkeepers the lot of them.

 

‘And these witches… these Mothers…’ she said in contempt. ‘They’ll do nothing to stop me… they’re not allowed to interfere in another witch’s affairs.’

 

Giselle’s eyes were wide with fright, terrified that Henbane would finally be able to take her. But then Mother Poinsettia’s voice was heard.

 

‘No witch can, but I can!’ she said as the crowd parted for her.

 

The elderly witch came hobbling forward with her walking stick, looking very frail Giselle thought against the imposing Henbane. But she came right up to Henbane as if she wasn’t blind or fearful at all.

 

‘Mother… Mother Poinsettia!’ Henbane said in shock. ‘What… what are you doing here?’

 

‘So… you at least know to call me Mother and show some respect to your better,’ Mother Poinsettia said in scolding tone. ‘As for what I’m doing here… why, I got married today.’

 

‘Married!’ Henbane exclaimed in revulsion.

 

‘Yes… married! But that doesn’t change the fact that whilst you wish to become an Arch-Witch… you know that I already am one.’

 

Giselle gave a start. Mother Poinsettia was an Arch-Witch herself!

 

‘You know how I became one… don’t you?’ she went on.

 

Henbane nodded numbly.

 

‘The dragons…’ she muttered.

 

‘Yes… a living scale plucked from every species of dragon,’ she said. ‘I earned the right to become an Arch-Witch the hard way… not your lazy, devious way. Lost my eyesight to the scalding dragon breath of the last one… a nasty Bloodscale he was. And as an Arch-Witch I have the right to protect Giselle.’

 

Henbane’s face went hard.

 

‘For now maybe,’ she snarled. ‘But you can’t watch her forever.’

 

‘No… but for now you can push off. Give your evil scheme some thought Mother Henbane,’ Mother Poinsettia said in an icy tone and Giselle watched Henbane bristle at being called Mother. ‘It’s a lazy way to become an Arch-Witch and laziness might see you undone.’

 

Henbane gave Giselle a withering glare.

 

‘This is not over between us, girl!’ she snapped. ‘One way or another I’ll have your eyes!’

 

Then she turned on her heels and marched back to her broomstick. She mounted and shot away into the sky, her broomstick screaming with crackling magic.

 

Mother Poinsettia turned to Giselle and smiled at her.

 

‘There, she’s gone now,’ she said reassuringly. ‘Don’t give her another thought for today. Enjoy the reception and think only of good things.’

 

‘Thank you for your help, Mother,’ Giselle said gratefully, but then added a little dismally. ‘But it seems so hopeless. Henbane will eventually capture me, no matter how much help you all give me.’

 

‘Now don’t say that, princess,’ Stone-Fist said firmly. ‘Our Society has never lost a princess to a wicked stepmother. Something will turn up.’

 

And strangely enough, something did turn up. Something quite odd and unusual.