Revolting Rose

Chapter 22/Part 2 - Food Fight

It was no small relief that Vrye had been allowed to ride a portable organ in the soldier chase. He was under no illusion that his knees would not be up to all that running about, though he was not terribly fond of being dragged along behind a splutter-carriage either. The only consolation was that it was Vasherri's ornamental model, rather than Saloonka's with that infernal rodent at the helm.

And by their beards, Grumbie was a dream at the wheel. His Mastery of steering boats showed in his handling of the mechanical beast, taking the bends and wobbles of the city stalks like a leaf in a stream. All the while Vrye did his best to follow their movements with his melody. Dear Sally was so adamant that he not stop playing, and for the most part he did not disappoint, but for the brief pause while a low-hanging house was lifted out of the way.

The horde pursued the soldiers from the city, across the Alphodel Meadows, and all the way to a grove of old trees that should not have been there. He recognised some of those gnarled old sticks from the Waning Wood, at least so far as he could recognise a tree.

Vrye lifted his fingers from the keys and rested them in his lap while he waited to see what Sally would do about this hiccup.

"Call back the parsnips!" Saloonka commanded over the din of murmured confusion.

Feidai answered the call with the Tyvern farmers, but as soon as the crotchety crops were caged, the trees locked their limbs into an impenetrable tangle.

"I've had it up to here with filthy, rotten trees!" Sally shouted and strode up to them. He inspected the barrier, nodded, then spun and addressed the horde again, "Do any of my Underlings speak Tree?"

"I can only speak a wee bit o' shrub, and leafy shrub at that. With nay wind or leaves there's nay words fer them tae make," said one of the Drakuur, making some peculiar rustling sounds with a crusty patch of hair. "That's 'git off me roots, ye leafless sod'."

"I only know how to communicate with my veggies, but I think they're too far in to call," added a farmer, with another nodding along.

The pair went as near as they dared get to the tree line and shrieked, whistled and clicked loudly, but there was not so much as a creak of reply from the trees nor the lost vegetables. Then slowly but surely, from the back of the horde came what was surely the oldest of the Underlings. A Lady, so withered and dry that she rather resembled the thicket herself.

"What shall I ask of them precisely?" she rasped. "The trees around these parts are a particular lot."

"Ask them to kindly return the vegetables to us, and the others too if they feel so inclined. No harm will come to any of them," said Saloonka with a pensive chin stroke. "Or a simple sod off will do."

Duskerro was sizzling something in his ear, so Vrye hoped for the Grove's sake the trees would be reasonable.

"I'll give it a crack, but my Tree might be a bit out of practice," said the Dame, giving her arms and back a good stretch before stomping up to the edge of the woods with her arms flared out like her own set of boughs.

Vrye gave her complete silence from the organ for what she had to say, while the drumming Goblins kept their rhythm going, though softer than before. Almost all of the underlings were scrambling for a good vantage point to watch the mysterious exchange unfold, which resulted in quite a few teetering stacks of all sorts, using one another's shoulders just as Sally always used Franz'.

The Lady began when the horde had settled, raising both her arms up to her full extension before slowly drooping down to touch her toes. A loud groan resonated from her back, which seemed to get the trees' attention. With a few more slow twists and stretches, the trees untangled their branches and the thinnest twigs started to crackle some kind of response.