Magical Molly and her family's treasure
Chapter One
Battle at Symonds Yat.
The battle at dawn was drawing to a close; the two families of
the kingdom had been fighting for what they each believed was theirs. The final
gong sounded as the Crogg family from St.Clears retreated, their tall hats
dishevelled on their bald heads as they reluctantly acknowledged that they had
lost. Although they had caused mayhem, they had fewer members left standing.
Thus, Owain Glyndwr, Head of the Welsh family of Wales, and owner of the “Welsh
Wizard Weekly” magazine had declared the competition won by the Hugglett
family.
Tudor Llewellyn, moving quickly despite being injured, had
grabbed the treasure chest, one of the three contested treasures, checked the inside
for the rare Hugglett love spoon, and slammed the lid shut. He caught Ivor’s
eye from a distance and they exchanged a brotherly message. Tudor went ahead
with urgency towards the oval glass coach, where he would be flown back to his
castle, with two of the treasures, safe in the hands of the Huggle-Puggle
family.
Ivor, even though equally injured, was rounding up his closest
allies as his warriors saw to the dead and wounded. An immense amount of dead
and wounded even though they had won. Elijas lay on the ground as Ivor bent to
check if he was alive. There was no point trying to utilise his magic, it was
diminishing. After three hours fighting he couldn’t remember any spells. Ivor
could hardly get up as he checked Elijas for a pulse and as he looked around for
his other companions, Geraintus came puffing up to him, his breath as green as
his giant frame.
“Garibaldi is unable to walk, Ivor. Use the golden coracle to
transport both Elijas here and Garibaldi. I can pull them back to the
coach.”
“That’s kind of you Geraintus, where is he, is he
alright?”
“He is frightened; the last spear caught his long beard and
brought him to the ground. If he had been of wizard proportions and not a dwarf,
it would have killed him, Ivor. None of our spells are working anymore; maybe we
are all too exhausted. At least we have won; we are the first family of
Wales.”
“It doesn’t feel like it, Geraintus,” said Ivor getting up
gingerly from the side of Elijas who was in a poor
condition.
“He’s alive, we need to get him home to administer a few
potions, and let’s hurry. I don’t trust the Croggs, they may come back and
counter attack.”
Bedivere came into Ivor’s view, more or less dragging a shaking
dwarf with the look of death on his face, his eyes swollen and his floor length
beard torn in places, making it look like an unevenly knitted
jumper.
“Geraintus, get the coracle and put Elijas and Garibaldi in it.
I know you are a giant, but can you manage to pull it, we need to get to the coach.
Tudor is already striding ahead but he will wait for
us.”
Ivor, with Bedivere, his trusted friend by his side, wearily
walked towards the glass coach, which had been hiding, to collect the wizard
family. Geraintus, the green giant, robes torn and chunks of flesh weeping from
his massive torso, pulled the remaining treasure which had Elijas and Garibaldi,
Ivor’s servant and dwarf, placed inside.
“Did Tudor check the treasure chest for the paperwork,
authenticating the love spoon to the coracle,
Ivor?”
“Yes, we have it. I’m too old for this nonsense Bedivere, we can
at least relax now in our kingdom and claim all those castles as
ours.”
“I know the crest of the Crogg family is close to ours, Ivor,
but we are the rightful owners of this treasure. Surely, Owain wouldn’t have
allowed a group of three foot carpenters wearing tall hats, to run the
kingdom?”
“Strange as it seems, Owain is sometimes too fair for his own
good, he only thinks of his reputation, which is a great one. We must remain
fair to the people, we owe them that. Trust me, the treasure was always ours. I
can tell you another day, Bedivere.”
“You obviously have something to share with us,
Ivor.....”
“What the devil is that?”
Without advance warning a gang of armed and hooded warriors
surrounded the wizards as Ivor quickly threw his flamboyant cloak over the
coracle, hiding Elijas and Garibaldi, but more importantly covering the
remaining treasure, from being spotted.
Bedivere, at an equally grand old age, as Ivor, of a hundred and
forty-two years, responded as
quickly as Ivor and started calling out spells to stop the spears from hitting
them.
“Benialli, benalli,”
they both shouted and repeated, as they had no spears or
arrows.
“Geraintus go ahead and check on Tudor, he isn’t to be seen,
we’ll deal with this lot,” ordered Ivor sounding more confident that he
felt.
The heavily armed soldiers spoke rapidly, throwing spears
at the wizards and the coracle. Missing Ivor by inches, both Ivor and Bedivere,
continued to chant spells, the spears responding by returning to the sender,
confusing the warriors. As they retreated, Geraintus came puffing back from the
side road, his green skin even darker, splattered mostly with new blood, as his
giant frame had been like a wall, the spears bouncing off
him.
“Tudor has disappeared along with the treasure chest,” he panted
blood pouring from his cheek as he whispered a spell which stopped the
bleeding.
“Goodness me, has he gone by coach, or has he been kidnapped?”
queried Ivor, desperately wanting to sit in the coracle himself but knowing they
had saved it by covering it with their cloaks.He checked Elijas and Garibaldi
again, they were both out of it, but alive.
“No idea, Ivor. The glass coach is hovering over the oak tree,
we are minutes from it, we’ll have to pebble him to find out, once we get
inside.”
“Hurry then,” Bedivere commanded, out of breath and positively
shaking with the mere fact that the last lot of spears had
tested their resolve. They needed to source someone who could help
strengthen their magical capabilities. He cast this notion aside as he helped
Ivor and Geraintus move the coracle to the steps, now
dangling out of the coach which had whirled towards
them.
The oval coach
came to a halt, its spindly claws grabbing the ground for balance. The slipper
glass steps hovered in the morning breeze as Ivor checked Elijas and Garibaldi
once again, covered the coracle with his silver and blue moon cloak and murmured
another spell,
“Velez Rubio,
Veles-Roobi-oh”
The doors slid open and the coracle rose in the air, moved up
over the steps and flew inside the coach. Geraintus, Bedivere and Ivor, head of
the immediate family followed. He checked over his broad shoulders, for
enemies, soldiers or Tudor even. There was no sign of anyone; the warriors had
disappeared as quickly as they had sprung upon them.
“Vamos, adref , Vah-mos Ah-drev”
Garibaldi was asleep Elijas was in a coma, Bedivere started
attending to them as Ivor and Geraintus repaired his torso and cloaks. Ivor’s
wounds were superficial as he had a thick skin and had spelled invisible armour
on his body ahead of that morning’s contest. He wasn’t going to allow a bunch of
carpenters get the better of him. He sighed as the coach
whirled softly above the hedgerows, flying from Symonds Yat to a cave in
Saundersfoot, Ivor’s
headquarters.
Ivor watched the dashboard of the coach, and then he realised
that he had forgotten the password to change the route if he needed it. That was
the final straw; he knew that he must summon Magical Molly to assist. He would
suggest this to his comrades once they had returned and had checked if Tudor
were indeed kidnapped or alive at any rate.If this were the case the family had
a problem and they would need help.More to the point, had the treasure chest
been stolen from the very hands that had saved it?
The dials within the dashboard of the coach winked as if in
response to Ivor’s thoughts. The three communication feathers on the roof,
twitched as if knitting a scarf while talking to
itself.
“Shall I get the pebble sack out for you, Ivor?
Bedivere’s busy with Elijas and Garibaldi so we might as well send out
messages whilst we are travelling,” suggested Geraintus, who realised Ivor seemed to be
pre-occupied.
“Yes, yes Geraintus. I have a plan, that’s
all.”
The pebble sack was always on the shelf above the coach
dashboard, within reach to whoever was driving the ship. Thankfully for Ivor he
had registered the instructions in the memory box much earlier. Ivor knew that
help was needed as a matter of urgency for at this moment he couldn’t remember
any spells.
“Find the most important pebble of all, Geraintus. We need to
ask Kester, Tudors bat if he is dead or alive.
“Which one is it, I always forget the colour codes of these
things?” said Geraintus going greener than usual with slight
embarrassment.
“Don’t worry Geraintus, I have a list on the back of my front
door to help me remember, or Gari does it for me,”chuckled Ivor, giving himself
a few extra seconds’ thinking time..
“Send the feather - bound one, Geraint,” whispered Garibaldi
from the coracle and promptly went back to
sleep.
“Yes, he’s right. Kester will need to respond to it immediately,
it would be useful to know that Tudor is safe before we get
home.”
Geraintus quilled a message back to front and placed the pebble
in its own
pouch, then flung it through the communication exit muttering the postal
spell the family used when sending pebbles,
“Boh-st
ee-boh-st,” repeating it three
times.
“Send the next one to Merlin as a matter of extreme urgency, we
need Molly at once,” said Ivor as Geraintus scribbled
furiously.
“Why, Ivor? ”exclaimed Bedivere rising from his kneeling
position as he finished administering potions to Elijas
and Garibaldi. He came and sat next to Ivor as Geraintus finished
writing.
“Bedivere, something has happened to Tudor. We therefore have to assume we’ve lost
the treasure chest and, as you are very well aware, our Hugglett spoon was
insdie it.. Without the spoon, the coracle will not function nor will they be able to cast the spell on us, and so
to continue to make us superior to the rest of the kingdom. I only hope the
parchment inside the treasure chest hasn’t been taken, to registering the
treasure as ours. We need to file the paperwork at the town hall, in order to
make the announcement official in the Welsh Wizard Weekly that we have kept the
title of “First Family of Wales.”
“Where is this pebble being sent, Ivor. It’s
ready.”
“Merlin is in Spain, send it to him there. He will summon Molly
over by moonbeam at first light tomorrow.”
“What if Tudor is okay and the chest is with him?” asked
Bedivere.
Plop.
“From Slobbers. We’ll know right away,” said Geraintus as he
picked up a slate pebble from the dash of the
coach.”
Geraintus went a paler green than usual as he read Slobbers’
message.
“What is it?” said Ivor
anxiously.
“Tudor attacked, in a coma, treasure chest missing. Arrive
through secret passage, spelled in readiness.”
“Slobbers, efficient as usual”
“Tudor wasn’t attacked by the Croggs, Ivor, they were much
bigger and taller,” said Geraintus trying to work out who they had
been.
“I have no idea, who they were either, they spoke Welsh but I
couldn’t grasp what they were saying as I was too busy, as was Bedivere,
protecting the coracle, and of course Elijas and
Gari.”
“Send a pebble back to Slobbers, Geraintus. Inform him that
Molly will be arriving tomorrow and that we’ll need to make room for Elijas to
recover along with Garibaldi. Make sure he understands that his master is more
shocked than injured.”
Geraintus completed the messages and sent them through the
feathered exit as Ivor and Bedivere sat together, making plans for their
next move. The treasure had been stolen from them. However, they had the golden
coracle but they both knew that without the spoon the coracle was pretty
useless. They, as a family, needed the treasures together, to instal the spell
they needed to keep them magical and
powerful.
“We will worry about who tried to attack us, once we get home,
Ivor. I’d concentrate on preparing some magical lessons for Molly. I hope you
have warned Slobbers, Garibaldi even. After all Ivor, Garibaldi’s cat has his own
powers.”
“Yes, yes, Bedivere, I know what you are implying, but Garibaldi
and I have already spoken last week regarding magical Molly. He’ll be okay about it,
leave Slobbers to me”
The coach started to shudder as it descended and disappeared
from the outside world as it shrank into the dunes of the beach of Saundersfoot,
where Ivor’s cave was nestled into the skyline, sand in colour and quite hidden
from the average naked eye.
“Datrys ar unwaith( Dah
treece ah een-waheeth),”murmured Ivor several times as the coach doors
opened and the coracle slid out, the steps acting as a slide.
“Gari!”
“
It’s okay, Slobbers, he’s in shock, he’ll be fine. Help us get them into their
beds and then we need to plan what we do next. We have a problem,”reminded
Bedivere.
The glass coach twitched, clicked its three feathers
communication system and excused itself away from the living room through the
back passage until it was needed again. Geraintus with Bedivere helping, placed
Elijas in a hammock in the parlour and Garibaldi, was placed on the coracle
couch, his shocked condition needing the warmth of the fire that
Slobbers had lit earlier.
Slobbers, thankful that he was still the top cat, was even more
grateful that his master was alive and not in a coma. Kester had messaged him
much earlier than the Wizards, he could see that their spells were diminishing,
as Garibaldi had told him in confidence. It was now very apparent that they
needed to locate the lost treasure, but what was this about the top dog? He made
the Aloe Vera special brew and took the teapot into the dining room, where the
two wizards and Geraintus were discussing their imminent
problem.
Slobbers poured tea into three large mugs and returned to the
kitchen to find the chocolate biscuits, Bedivere’s favourite, and Welsh cakes
which Garibaldi had made fresh that morning, prior to the
battle.
“We cannot wait for Tudor to recover and ask him, Bedivere,”
said Ivor, a bit agitated with him.
“Tudor may be the eldest but I am still head of the family. I am
the one living in a magical cave with rights to live in most of the castles.
Tudor may already be living in Caernarfon Castle, but he was given that as an
inheritance. I can reside with my comrades in all the castles that are empty.
Having the treasure, gives the Hugglett family the right to live in these
castles, I surely don’t need to remind you, Bedivere?”
“Ivor, our problem is that we have lost the spoon and the
parchment in the treasure chest. Bedivere is only trying to remind you how
urgent this is,” whispered Geraintus as he raised his giant eyebrow at Slobbers,
who shook his long black and silver striped tail in
acknowledgement.
“Is there something you are not sharing with us, Ivor?”quizzed
Bedivere sipping his tea.
“No, no it can wait. The most important thing now is to prepare for Molly and hope Garibaldi
recovers to help us organise her imminent arrival party,” said
Ivor.
“In the meantime, Ivor, I shall go and check out a few of the
creatures in the neighbourhood and report back later. Whoever took the chest
will still need the coracle. They might not know that, but surely we need to
hide the coracle, just in case someone decides to come looking for it,” said
Geraintus, needing to return to his own home, to prepare for Molly’s arrival.
The family would need extra support with Elijas out of it and now Tudor in a
coma too.
“Geraintus is right, Ivor. I’leave too. I shall see if I can
shed some light on who attacked Tudor. This will give you time to organise some
lessons for the dog, bring her up to speed with our spell system and our coded
lanterns and family protocol. Geraintus, no one can register the treasure unless
they have it all. I suggest we keep the coracle hidden until we can regroup
tomorrow.”
Ivor closed the door on his two friends, very weary indeed, as
he made his way to the couch and sat near his friend and dwarf servant, who had
been loyal to him for over a century. Garibaldi knew Ivor had
made a mess of things in his life. However, he wasn’t going to allow his past to
affect the rights that his family had earned. His past had nothing to do with
recovering the treasure and Molly would help them. She was the most magical
creature that had been born unto the Huggle-Puggle family of late. Her skills
and intuitive gifts were needed at once. Tudor would have the treasure returned
before he came round from his coma, Ivor was convinced. It was only a matter of
tactical thinking and logical planning with Bedivere and they’d soon locate the
whereabouts of the chest that housed the
spoon.
Chapter One
Battle at Symonds Yat.
The battle at dawn was drawing to a close; the two families of
the kingdom had been fighting for what they each believed was theirs. The final
gong sounded as the Crogg family from St.Clears retreated, their tall hats
dishevelled on their bald heads as they reluctantly acknowledged that they had
lost. Although they had caused mayhem, they had fewer members left standing.
Thus, Owain Glyndwr, Head of the Welsh family of Wales, and owner of the “Welsh
Wizard Weekly” magazine had declared the competition won by the Hugglett
family.
Tudor Llewellyn, moving quickly despite being injured, had
grabbed the treasure chest, one of the three contested treasures, checked the inside
for the rare Hugglett love spoon, and slammed the lid shut. He caught Ivor’s
eye from a distance and they exchanged a brotherly message. Tudor went ahead
with urgency towards the oval glass coach, where he would be flown back to his
castle, with two of the treasures, safe in the hands of the Huggle-Puggle
family.
Ivor, even though equally injured, was rounding up his closest
allies as his warriors saw to the dead and wounded. An immense amount of dead
and wounded even though they had won. Elijas lay on the ground as Ivor bent to
check if he was alive. There was no point trying to utilise his magic, it was
diminishing. After three hours fighting he couldn’t remember any spells. Ivor
could hardly get up as he checked Elijas for a pulse and as he looked around for
his other companions, Geraintus came puffing up to him, his breath as green as
his giant frame.
“Garibaldi is unable to walk, Ivor. Use the golden coracle to
transport both Elijas here and Garibaldi. I can pull them back to the
coach.”
“That’s kind of you Geraintus, where is he, is he
alright?”
“He is frightened; the last spear caught his long beard and
brought him to the ground. If he had been of wizard proportions and not a dwarf,
it would have killed him, Ivor. None of our spells are working anymore; maybe we
are all too exhausted. At least we have won; we are the first family of
Wales.”
“It doesn’t feel like it, Geraintus,” said Ivor getting up
gingerly from the side of Elijas who was in a poor
condition.
“He’s alive, we need to get him home to administer a few
potions, and let’s hurry. I don’t trust the Croggs, they may come back and
counter attack.”
Bedivere came into Ivor’s view, more or less dragging a shaking
dwarf with the look of death on his face, his eyes swollen and his floor length
beard torn in places, making it look like an unevenly knitted
jumper.
“Geraintus, get the coracle and put Elijas and Garibaldi in it.
I know you are a giant, but can you manage to pull it, we need to get to the coach.
Tudor is already striding ahead but he will wait for
us.”
Ivor, with Bedivere, his trusted friend by his side, wearily
walked towards the glass coach, which had been hiding, to collect the wizard
family. Geraintus, the green giant, robes torn and chunks of flesh weeping from
his massive torso, pulled the remaining treasure which had Elijas and Garibaldi,
Ivor’s servant and dwarf, placed inside.
“Did Tudor check the treasure chest for the paperwork,
authenticating the love spoon to the coracle,
Ivor?”
“Yes, we have it. I’m too old for this nonsense Bedivere, we can
at least relax now in our kingdom and claim all those castles as
ours.”
“I know the crest of the Crogg family is close to ours, Ivor,
but we are the rightful owners of this treasure. Surely, Owain wouldn’t have
allowed a group of three foot carpenters wearing tall hats, to run the
kingdom?”
“Strange as it seems, Owain is sometimes too fair for his own
good, he only thinks of his reputation, which is a great one. We must remain
fair to the people, we owe them that. Trust me, the treasure was always ours. I
can tell you another day, Bedivere.”
“You obviously have something to share with us,
Ivor.....”
“What the devil is that?”
Without advance warning a gang of armed and hooded warriors
surrounded the wizards as Ivor quickly threw his flamboyant cloak over the
coracle, hiding Elijas and Garibaldi, but more importantly covering the
remaining treasure, from being spotted.
Bedivere, at an equally grand old age, as Ivor, of a hundred and
forty-two years, responded as
quickly as Ivor and started calling out spells to stop the spears from hitting
them.
“Benialli, benalli,”
they both shouted and repeated, as they had no spears or
arrows.
“Geraintus go ahead and check on Tudor, he isn’t to be seen,
we’ll deal with this lot,” ordered Ivor sounding more confident that he
felt.
The heavily armed soldiers spoke rapidly, throwing spears
at the wizards and the coracle. Missing Ivor by inches, both Ivor and Bedivere,
continued to chant spells, the spears responding by returning to the sender,
confusing the warriors. As they retreated, Geraintus came puffing back from the
side road, his green skin even darker, splattered mostly with new blood, as his
giant frame had been like a wall, the spears bouncing off
him.
“Tudor has disappeared along with the treasure chest,” he panted
blood pouring from his cheek as he whispered a spell which stopped the
bleeding.
“Goodness me, has he gone by coach, or has he been kidnapped?”
queried Ivor, desperately wanting to sit in the coracle himself but knowing they
had saved it by covering it with their cloaks.He checked Elijas and Garibaldi
again, they were both out of it, but alive.
“No idea, Ivor. The glass coach is hovering over the oak tree,
we are minutes from it, we’ll have to pebble him to find out, once we get
inside.”
“Hurry then,” Bedivere commanded, out of breath and positively
shaking with the mere fact that the last lot of spears had
tested their resolve. They needed to source someone who could help
strengthen their magical capabilities. He cast this notion aside as he helped
Ivor and Geraintus move the coracle to the steps, now
dangling out of the coach which had whirled towards
them.
The oval coach
came to a halt, its spindly claws grabbing the ground for balance. The slipper
glass steps hovered in the morning breeze as Ivor checked Elijas and Garibaldi
once again, covered the coracle with his silver and blue moon cloak and murmured
another spell,
“Velez Rubio,
Veles-Roobi-oh”
The doors slid open and the coracle rose in the air, moved up
over the steps and flew inside the coach. Geraintus, Bedivere and Ivor, head of
the immediate family followed. He checked over his broad shoulders, for
enemies, soldiers or Tudor even. There was no sign of anyone; the warriors had
disappeared as quickly as they had sprung upon them.
“Vamos, adref , Vah-mos Ah-drev”
Garibaldi was asleep Elijas was in a coma, Bedivere started
attending to them as Ivor and Geraintus repaired his torso and cloaks. Ivor’s
wounds were superficial as he had a thick skin and had spelled invisible armour
on his body ahead of that morning’s contest. He wasn’t going to allow a bunch of
carpenters get the better of him. He sighed as the coach
whirled softly above the hedgerows, flying from Symonds Yat to a cave in
Saundersfoot, Ivor’s
headquarters.
Ivor watched the dashboard of the coach, and then he realised
that he had forgotten the password to change the route if he needed it. That was
the final straw; he knew that he must summon Magical Molly to assist. He would
suggest this to his comrades once they had returned and had checked if Tudor
were indeed kidnapped or alive at any rate.If this were the case the family had
a problem and they would need help.More to the point, had the treasure chest
been stolen from the very hands that had saved it?
The dials within the dashboard of the coach winked as if in
response to Ivor’s thoughts. The three communication feathers on the roof,
twitched as if knitting a scarf while talking to
itself.
“Shall I get the pebble sack out for you, Ivor?
Bedivere’s busy with Elijas and Garibaldi so we might as well send out
messages whilst we are travelling,” suggested Geraintus, who realised Ivor seemed to be
pre-occupied.
“Yes, yes Geraintus. I have a plan, that’s
all.”
The pebble sack was always on the shelf above the coach
dashboard, within reach to whoever was driving the ship. Thankfully for Ivor he
had registered the instructions in the memory box much earlier. Ivor knew that
help was needed as a matter of urgency for at this moment he couldn’t remember
any spells.
“Find the most important pebble of all, Geraintus. We need to
ask Kester, Tudors bat if he is dead or alive.
“Which one is it, I always forget the colour codes of these
things?” said Geraintus going greener than usual with slight
embarrassment.
“Don’t worry Geraintus, I have a list on the back of my front
door to help me remember, or Gari does it for me,”chuckled Ivor, giving himself
a few extra seconds’ thinking time..
“Send the feather - bound one, Geraint,” whispered Garibaldi
from the coracle and promptly went back to
sleep.
“Yes, he’s right. Kester will need to respond to it immediately,
it would be useful to know that Tudor is safe before we get
home.”
Geraintus quilled a message back to front and placed the pebble
in its own
pouch, then flung it through the communication exit muttering the postal
spell the family used when sending pebbles,
“Boh-st
ee-boh-st,” repeating it three
times.
“Send the next one to Merlin as a matter of extreme urgency, we
need Molly at once,” said Ivor as Geraintus scribbled
furiously.
“Why, Ivor? ”exclaimed Bedivere rising from his kneeling
position as he finished administering potions to Elijas
and Garibaldi. He came and sat next to Ivor as Geraintus finished
writing.
“Bedivere, something has happened to Tudor. We therefore have to assume we’ve lost
the treasure chest and, as you are very well aware, our Hugglett spoon was
insdie it.. Without the spoon, the coracle will not function nor will they be able to cast the spell on us, and so
to continue to make us superior to the rest of the kingdom. I only hope the
parchment inside the treasure chest hasn’t been taken, to registering the
treasure as ours. We need to file the paperwork at the town hall, in order to
make the announcement official in the Welsh Wizard Weekly that we have kept the
title of “First Family of Wales.”
“Where is this pebble being sent, Ivor. It’s
ready.”
“Merlin is in Spain, send it to him there. He will summon Molly
over by moonbeam at first light tomorrow.”
“What if Tudor is okay and the chest is with him?” asked
Bedivere.
Plop.
“From Slobbers. We’ll know right away,” said Geraintus as he
picked up a slate pebble from the dash of the
coach.”
Geraintus went a paler green than usual as he read Slobbers’
message.
“What is it?” said Ivor
anxiously.
“Tudor attacked, in a coma, treasure chest missing. Arrive
through secret passage, spelled in readiness.”
“Slobbers, efficient as usual”
“Tudor wasn’t attacked by the Croggs, Ivor, they were much
bigger and taller,” said Geraintus trying to work out who they had
been.
“I have no idea, who they were either, they spoke Welsh but I
couldn’t grasp what they were saying as I was too busy, as was Bedivere,
protecting the coracle, and of course Elijas and
Gari.”
“Send a pebble back to Slobbers, Geraintus. Inform him that
Molly will be arriving tomorrow and that we’ll need to make room for Elijas to
recover along with Garibaldi. Make sure he understands that his master is more
shocked than injured.”
Geraintus completed the messages and sent them through the
feathered exit as Ivor and Bedivere sat together, making plans for their
next move. The treasure had been stolen from them. However, they had the golden
coracle but they both knew that without the spoon the coracle was pretty
useless. They, as a family, needed the treasures together, to instal the spell
they needed to keep them magical and
powerful.
“We will worry about who tried to attack us, once we get home,
Ivor. I’d concentrate on preparing some magical lessons for Molly. I hope you
have warned Slobbers, Garibaldi even. After all Ivor, Garibaldi’s cat has his own
powers.”
“Yes, yes, Bedivere, I know what you are implying, but Garibaldi
and I have already spoken last week regarding magical Molly. He’ll be okay about it,
leave Slobbers to me”
The coach started to shudder as it descended and disappeared
from the outside world as it shrank into the dunes of the beach of Saundersfoot,
where Ivor’s cave was nestled into the skyline, sand in colour and quite hidden
from the average naked eye.
“Datrys ar unwaith( Dah
treece ah een-waheeth),”murmured Ivor several times as the coach doors
opened and the coracle slid out, the steps acting as a slide.
“Gari!”
“
It’s okay, Slobbers, he’s in shock, he’ll be fine. Help us get them into their
beds and then we need to plan what we do next. We have a problem,”reminded
Bedivere.
The glass coach twitched, clicked its three feathers
communication system and excused itself away from the living room through the
back passage until it was needed again. Geraintus with Bedivere helping, placed
Elijas in a hammock in the parlour and Garibaldi, was placed on the coracle
couch, his shocked condition needing the warmth of the fire that
Slobbers had lit earlier.
Slobbers, thankful that he was still the top cat, was even more
grateful that his master was alive and not in a coma. Kester had messaged him
much earlier than the Wizards, he could see that their spells were diminishing,
as Garibaldi had told him in confidence. It was now very apparent that they
needed to locate the lost treasure, but what was this about the top dog? He made
the Aloe Vera special brew and took the teapot into the dining room, where the
two wizards and Geraintus were discussing their imminent
problem.
Slobbers poured tea into three large mugs and returned to the
kitchen to find the chocolate biscuits, Bedivere’s favourite, and Welsh cakes
which Garibaldi had made fresh that morning, prior to the
battle.
“We cannot wait for Tudor to recover and ask him, Bedivere,”
said Ivor, a bit agitated with him.
“Tudor may be the eldest but I am still head of the family. I am
the one living in a magical cave with rights to live in most of the castles.
Tudor may already be living in Caernarfon Castle, but he was given that as an
inheritance. I can reside with my comrades in all the castles that are empty.
Having the treasure, gives the Hugglett family the right to live in these
castles, I surely don’t need to remind you, Bedivere?”
“Ivor, our problem is that we have lost the spoon and the
parchment in the treasure chest. Bedivere is only trying to remind you how
urgent this is,” whispered Geraintus as he raised his giant eyebrow at Slobbers,
who shook his long black and silver striped tail in
acknowledgement.
“Is there something you are not sharing with us, Ivor?”quizzed
Bedivere sipping his tea.
“No, no it can wait. The most important thing now is to prepare for Molly and hope Garibaldi
recovers to help us organise her imminent arrival party,” said
Ivor.
“In the meantime, Ivor, I shall go and check out a few of the
creatures in the neighbourhood and report back later. Whoever took the chest
will still need the coracle. They might not know that, but surely we need to
hide the coracle, just in case someone decides to come looking for it,” said
Geraintus, needing to return to his own home, to prepare for Molly’s arrival.
The family would need extra support with Elijas out of it and now Tudor in a
coma too.
“Geraintus is right, Ivor. I’leave too. I shall see if I can
shed some light on who attacked Tudor. This will give you time to organise some
lessons for the dog, bring her up to speed with our spell system and our coded
lanterns and family protocol. Geraintus, no one can register the treasure unless
they have it all. I suggest we keep the coracle hidden until we can regroup
tomorrow.”
Ivor closed the door on his two friends, very weary indeed, as
he made his way to the couch and sat near his friend and dwarf servant, who had
been loyal to him for over a century. Garibaldi knew Ivor had
made a mess of things in his life. However, he wasn’t going to allow his past to
affect the rights that his family had earned. His past had nothing to do with
recovering the treasure and Molly would help them. She was the most magical
creature that had been born unto the Huggle-Puggle family of late. Her skills
and intuitive gifts were needed at once. Tudor would have the treasure returned
before he came round from his coma, Ivor was convinced. It was only a matter of
tactical thinking and logical planning with Bedivere and they’d soon locate the
whereabouts of the chest that housed the
spoon.
