Chapter 2 #4
Over the old ladies’ shoulders, a fluffy purple exclamation point suddenly launched into the air. Protect the mistress! the voice attached to it cried, as invisible claws latched onto the would-be sword-thief’s face. He waved his hands frantically, trying desperately to get Tilly off.
A brawl? Mr. Scruffles cried in delight. He let out a fierce battle yowl audible even over the din and threw himself into the fray.
Ember knocked over an abandoned bottle of liquor on the bar top and set the spill alight with a delicate cough. Oops, she said to anyone who might be listening.
“Ma?!”
“Pip?” Katherine looked up from putting a boot in a groin to observe Mrs. Chrysler’s son pushing his way through the throng.
He had a black eye and was shoving people left and right. “Auntie Kat,” he panted when he finally reached them, “Ma, you gotta get out of here! What are you doing here??”
“We wanted a drink,” Mrs. Chrysler grunted, still struggling to pull her sword.
“I thought I heard you shout my name,” he said. “That’s why I clocked that clod. This is no place for the two of you.”
“I agree!” Katherine thwacked the nearest head with her purse. “But we don’t need you to save us, thank you very much! We’re doing just fine!” She took another swing with her handbag and then raised her arms out of the way as a small man, projectile-like, sailed past her.
Then a voice rang out nearby, full of terror: “Look out! She’s got a wand!”
Katherine beheld a crowded room now frozen in fear, and looked up at the knitting needle still in her hand—the object of everyone’s sudden fascination. An idea struck her, and she waved the needle overhead with a flourish. “Alakazam!!”
Dozens of people in various stages of fight or flight hit the floor as one with a resounding crash. That no magic had actually happened was immaterial.
“Quick!” Pip grabbed Mrs. Chrysler’s elbow, and Mrs. Chrysler grabbed Katherine, and Katherine called, “Kitties!” and the six of them were out the door, overwhelming Peat and Marmalade, who were finally making their way inside to break things up.
“What were you doing in there, really?” Pip demanded as he hustled them down the street, against a small tide of people who were gathering to see what was going on.
“Trying to relive the good old days,” Mrs. Chrysler said in an injured tone. “And what were you doing there?”
“I like a pint on a Monday night,” Pip said, quite unabashed, “and Mary doesn’t mind. She’s got cribbage club.” He sighed, looking them over. “You shouldn’t have brought your magic sword, Ma. It’s dangerous to wander around with valuable things like that.”
“Why should it be?” she spat back. “What would the world be coming to if a woman couldn’t wear her valuables without fear of someone stealing them? Who would even dream of doing such a thing?”
“Evidently a lot of people,” Katherine said. Her cats were trotting along behind her, no worse for wear.
Mr. Scruffles looked particularly smug. I got a tuft of that man’s hair, he was boasting.
Pip sighed again. “Let’s get you home,” he said. “I’ll make you some tea.”
Back at the Chrysler family yurt, Pip helped his mother to replace Chauncey in the armoire and then busied himself in the kitchen, indulging her by accepting, with a minimum of fuss, the small, pink pleated apron she supplied him.
Katherine sat across from her friend at the kitchen table and could only imagine what Pip must think of them now.
Somehow, in the last forty years or so, she realized, they seemed to have gotten… old.
Until today, Katherine hadn’t been able to fathom why Pip hadn’t fledged this nest until this past summer.
But now, as his thick fingers fastened the apron around his weathered leather jerkin, she believed she understood.
He would do anything for his mum; he had been extremely reluctant to leave her on her own since his father passed away.
And he would probably swoop in with some well-meaning plan if he knew Mrs. Chrysler was concerned about her property taxes going up, undoubtedly prompting her to give him a mortified reprimand.
Clearly, he believed she needed looking after.
Yet, Pip underestimated his mother, Katherine thought.
If he’d seen her in her youth, he’d have been slack-jawed.
Blonde hair flying, sword flying, other people’s bits flying…
Imogene had known how to handle herself.
And her weapons. And other people. The old swords were just a bit too heavy now.
And people were perhaps a bit harder to deal with, because so few of them had manners, or respected their elders. And whose fault was that?
Mrs. Chrysler absently ironed out the tablecloth with her hand, looking rather sullen, and Katherine didn’t blame her.
She realized that she was still holding on to the knitting needle she’d drawn out of her friend’s hair, and she rolled it back across the table.
“Thank you, Katty,” Mrs. Chrysler said primly.
She tucked the needle into her bun, and it seemed to restore a bit of lost dignity.
Imogene still has the old fire in her, Katherine thought.
If she’d been able to get that sword out of its scabbard, she probably would have inflicted some serious damage on that young man in the pub.
Well, if she’d been able to hold it up properly, that is.
Maybe instead of being so fixated on drawing it, she should have just spat her dentures in his face.
Mrs. Chrysler sighed angrily, still deep in recollection. “Tried to rob me. Right there, right under my nose!” she muttered.
“I know, Imogene,” Katherine said, with sympathetic indignation.
“As if private property didn’t mean a thing.”
Katherine nodded.
“And he didn’t even say please! What an ill-mannered idiot.”
Katherine stifled a laugh. “Yes,” she agreed.
“No respect.”
Katherine nodded again. Tilly was on her lap, and Mr. Scruffles and Ember were seated on a windowsill nearby. Occasionally they would shout encouraging things to Harvey, who was outside stoking a water boiler despite his runny nose and headache.
Pip turned a tap and poured several cups’ worth of hot water into the tea service.
“Well, what do you expect?” he said, turning away from the sink and putting the cozy on the teapot, the way his mother liked it.
“People try to steal things all the time in places like that. And I’ve heard some of your stories from the old days.
You can’t complain too much when you live under the benevolent blind eye of a pirate king. ”
“Former pirate king,” Katherine said. “He hasn’t been to sea in ages.”
“That’s right,” said Mrs. Chrysler. “And I can complain anytime I want, thank you very much.”
“That’s my point,” Pip said. “Anyone can do pretty much anything they want to in Ipswich. As long as they don’t do anything that violates the International Magical Accords, of course, and they don’t disturb the public peace too much, or forget to pay their taxes.”
“Hmph, especially taxes on waterfront properties,” Katherine grumbled.
“They don’t even ask for your name on the tax rolls as long as you don’t do anything stupid.
” Pip counted on his thick fingers. “Bribery? Fine. Using magic if you can afford it? Fine. Using magic items that aren’t sorcerer-sourced?
Not fine. Magical mind-control? Definitely not fine.
But stealing? You shouldn’t be surprised by that, Ma.
You stole things, lots of things. Why, one time, didn’t you—”
“That was different,” Katherine interrupted with a quiet defiance. “We never robbed innocent people.”
“That’s right,” Mrs. Chrysler said hotly. “We were honest thieves. We didn’t take things just because we wanted them. And we certainly never fleeced senior citizens. We only burgled people who deserved it.”
Katherine nodded sharply. It was true. “Imogene and I were known, and constantly in demand I might add, for our finesse, Pip.”
“Well—” Pip opened his mouth to argue, but Mrs. Chrysler shot her son a stern look, and there was no more to be said. He closed his mouth again.
“The world has moved on without us while we’ve been out of the business, Katty,” Mrs. Chrysler went on. “There’s no class anymore.”
“No respect anymore.”
“Not even for women of a certain age.”
“Not even for them…” Katherine felt a chill run up her spine and she shivered.
The recollection of Todd’s message struck her and she frowned.
She looked up at Pip, who was now steeping the tea attentively.
“Pip, dear,” she said, “would you please fetch some lemon balm for mine? I think I saw some by the back door.”
“Ma?”
“Yes, hun, that’s where it is.” Mrs. Chrysler eyed Katherine closely, a smile creeping over her face. “Lemon balm.” When Pip drifted out of earshot, she said, “When was the last time you used our code word for privacy, Katty? ‘Lemon balm’… What are you up to?”
Katherine took a deep breath. “I think we have to go back, Imogene,” she said quietly, brushing Tilly’s tail gently out of her face. At the mention of lemon balm, the small cat had grown agitated, and her tail was the only part of her visible now.
“Where, the pub?”
“No, no. This whole thing tonight… The way things seem to be now… We couldn’t help Fergie, or the Howards, but…
what about the old people at Saint Percival’s?
I’m sure Todd was asking for our help. Why else would he have sent the message to us?
Maybe we can help them somehow. I really feel… we have to go back to our last job.”
“What, the nuns? The rest home? Merchants Lane? Are you serious? You’re coming out of retirement?”
“Not retirement, no. But we left that last job undone. I want to finish it.”
“Heck, I’m all for that. But, Katty.” Mrs. Chrysler’s eager eyes searched Katherine’s face. “Are you sure? You’ve balked at every new job I’ve brought you. Why this? Why now?”
“I… I just think we owe it to them… Don’t you?
The older folks we let down… Todd sent a message all the way from Burnt Umberland to tell us how bad things have gotten there.
Times have changed, Imogene. That was just shoved in our faces all too clearly tonight.
Who’s going to fight for them? Who’s going to fight for us, when we can’t fend for ourselves anymore? ”
“Well, if it’s a fight you want, count me in.”
“No, no, Imogene. I meant what I said, I’m done with the jabby-pokey.”
“All right, all right. Fine, fine, fine.”
“But I want to go back.”
“Then let’s do it.”
“Pip won’t like it, though.”
“Well, nuts to him.”
“Ma, I couldn’t find the lemon balm.” Pip was back now, rubbing his large hands on the apron.
“Oh, well, never mind, dear. Listen, Auntie Kat and I have decided that we’re in need of a holiday. All the nasty business from this evening really ruffled our feathers. We want to treat ourselves to the things we enjoy.”
“You enjoy knitting, gardening, and cooking. Why do you need to go on a holiday to do that?”
Oh, no. No, no, no, Tilly muttered, diving off of Katherine’s lap. What she really enjoys is an adventure. Oh, I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.
“No, Pip,” Katherine said. “Your mother means travel. We enjoy travel.”
“Since when? And not out of the king’s jurisdiction, surely? He doesn’t extradite!”
Mrs. Chrysler unleashed another one of her stern looks. “Pip, Auntie Kat and I will be going on a trip for several days, maybe a week. I’d like you to look after the place here, please, to mind Harvey and the sheep.”
Mr. Scruffles and Ember joined Tilly under the table and were arguing audibly.
“And mind her cottage too. Look in on her cats.”