Ruler of the Realm

Seventy-eight

‘What do we do now?’ Pyrgus whispered. He felt really stupid having to admit it in front of Nymph, but he hadn’t an idea in his head. He’d been so thoroughly focused on finding the crystal flowers that it never occurred to him they might have been moved.

‘I’m not sure,’ Nymph whispered back. They were lying side by side in tall grass staring at the remnants of the Ogyris glasshouse. The broken glass and flowers were gone, but the foundation wall and portions of the skeleton structure remained. Their men were sprawled out in various concealments behind them. ‘Do you think Mercer Ogyris may have stored them in the house?’

Pyrgus didn’t know, but it occurred to him that if Merchant Ogyris had taken his flowers into the house, they’d need a lot more men to mount a successful attack. He decided suddenly that while commando raids were fun, he wasn’t really cut out to be a military leader. He turned on his side to look at Nymph and opened his mouth to say something when Nymph asked, ‘How did you find out about the flowers in the first place, Pyrgus?’

He couldn’t have felt more chilled if Hairstreak’s whole army had marched over the horizon. To his hideous embarrassment, he felt himself suddenly blush crimson.

‘Happened to be visiting the estate,’ he muttered. Then added quickly, ‘Do you think it would be a good idea to -?’

‘Mercer Ogyris is a Faerie of the Night, isn’t he?’ Nymph interrupted.

‘Yes,’ Pyrgus said. ‘I was just thinking -’

Nymph’s face was expressionless. ‘Why would a Prince of the Light just happen to be visiting a Nighter estate?’ she asked.

Pyrgus gave up his attempt to divert the conversation and went back to muttering. ‘Bit of business,’ he said. He looked away, unable to hold her eye.

Nymph wouldn’t leave it alone. ‘With Mercer Ogyris?’

‘If is orter,’ Pyrgus mumbled into a nearby bush.

‘I’m sorry?’ Nymph said politely.

‘With his daughter,’ Pyrgus said, marginally more clearly.

‘Oh,’ said Nymph, ‘Mercer Ogyris has a daughter?’

This was turning into a major disaster. First the time flowers were missing and now Nymph was on the point of finding out about Gela. He decided to brazen it out.

‘Oh, yes, I believe so. I mean, I know so. Met her. Once or twice. Not often. Plain little thing. Very plain. Quite young. Just a child, really.’

Nymph said, ‘And what… business did you have with this very plain little young child thing?’

‘Oh, you know…’ Pyrgus shrugged.

‘No, I don’t know,’ Nymph said coolly. ‘Why don’t you tell me?’

To Pyrgus’s intense relief one of the soldiers wriggled through the grass and came to a halt beside them. He snapped off an awkward salute.

‘Channel, sir,’ he said.

‘Channel?’ Pyrgus echoed. It had been fun while it lasted, but he definitely wasn’t cut out to lead a military operation.

‘Yes, sir. Channel, sir,’ the soldier repeated. He was a small, wiry man with sunken eyes. He may have seen the blank look on Pyrgus’s face, for he added, ‘Incoming, sir.’

Nymph must have seen the look as well. She leaned over to whisper in Pyrgus’s ear. ‘He’s a communications medium. There must be a message from the palace. Or possibly my mother. Tell him to go ahead.’ She hesitated, then added, ‘You call him CC. Official title. Stands for Communications Channel.’

‘Go ahead, CC,’ said Pyrgus briskly.

‘Have to sit up, sir – can’t do it lying down.’

Pyrgus glanced around. Thanks to the cock-up about the crystal flowers, there wasn’t a guard in sight. They’d probably be safe doing a Circle Dance, let alone just sitting up.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Woodfordi, sir.’

‘Go ahead, Woodfordi.’

The little CC sat up and crossed an ankle over each thigh in an impossible contortion. He placed his hands palm upwards on his lap and circled his second fingers to touch his thumbs. His eyes squinted alarmingly as he focused on the tip of his nose. He breathed deeply and his eyelids began to droop.

After a moment he trembled, then announced in a deep, booming voice, ‘Military Guide Communications Headquarters here, acting as Spiritual Gatekeeper to this human vessel. Incoming message for His Royal Highness Prince Pyrgus Malvae.’

‘Go ahead,’ Nymph instructed, apparently giving up on Pyrgus entirely.

The CC trembled again and his features sagged. ‘Is that you, deeah?’ he asked.

Pyrgus looked at Nymph who nodded encouragingly. ‘Yes,’ he said uncertainly.

‘Have you secured the flowers yet?’

‘Actually…’ A pained expression locked itself into Pyrgus’s features.

‘Never mind that for the moment, deeah,’ said Madame Cardui’s voice, deepened a little by the CC’s vocal cords. ‘There’s been a small change of plan. Are you alone?’

‘Nymph’s here,’ Pyrgus said. ‘And the CC, of course.’

‘The CC won’t remember anything,’ Madame Cardui said. ‘I’m glad Nymph’s there – how are you, deeah?’

‘Fine, thank you, Painted Lady,’ Nymph said easily.

Even through the Channel, Madame Cardui’s tone turned crisp. ‘Now, Pyrgus, the situation has changed since you left the palace. The Faeries of the Night have launched a pre-emptive strike against our forces, and -’

‘What!?’ Pyrgus exclaimed; and even Nymph looked shocked. ‘We’re at war? A civil war?’

‘Believe me, I was taken as much by surprise as you are, deeah. I’m afraid fighting has already started. It’s a tragedy, but now we have to deal with it. What -’

‘Where’s Blue?’ Pyrgus interrupted.

‘She’s here beside me, deeah. She’s safe and completely -’

‘I want to talk to her,’ Pyrgus said.

Blue’s voice came through immediately. She sounded brisk as well. ‘Pyrgus, I want you to -’

‘How are you?’ Pyrgus asked.

‘I’m fine,’ Blue said. ‘Henry was… look, that doesn’t matter now: I’ll tell you all about it when you get back. I want you to listen to Madame Cardui. We’ve spotted something that may be important to the war effort.’

War effort, Pyrgus thought. It had happened. The greatest disaster in the history of the Realm and now they summed it up in two words.

‘Yes, OK,’ he said.

Madame Cardui’s voice replaced Blue’s. ‘I take it you haven’t found the flowers?’

‘Not really,’ Pyrgus admitted, thinking it sounded a little better than Not at all.

‘That doesn’t matter for the moment. This is more important. Do you know how to get to the Eastern Desert?’

‘I do,’ Nymph whispered.

‘Yes,’ Pyrgus said loudly, glaring at her: he wasn’t a complete idiot.

‘How long will it take you to reach it from where you are now?’

Pyrgus frowned. ‘Not very long – we’ve flyers inside the estate and we’re right inside Yammeth City. Once we get back to the flyers, it’s only fifteen minutes to the wasteland.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ said Madame Cardui. ‘You’re the closest people we have. Now, this is what I want you to do: fly to the desert at once. You and Nymphalis and your CC. No one else. This mission is top-secret – above top-secret, really. I’d prefer it was just you and Nymphalis, but you must get word back to me as quickly as possible, so the CC goes too. The rest of your people will just have to find the time flowers on their own – appoint a temporary officer commanding and leave them to it.’

‘Madame Car-’ Pyrgus began, but Madame Cardui wasn’t listening.

‘Your triangulation is 38/17/105. Will you remember that?’

‘Yes, of -’

‘I will, Painted Lady,’ Nymph put in, interrupting him.

‘Good. Thank you, Nymphalis: it’s such a relief to have someone mature and experienced on this mission – I did clear it with your mother, of course.’ Even from the CC’s mouth it was possible to hear the change of tone as a worried note crept in. ‘You can land at that triangulation, deeahs, but I’m afraid you’ll have to make the rest of your way on foot. I would have preferred you to stay in the flyer, but the volcanic thermals make it quite impossible for you to travel further by air. But this is a dangerous mission and I want you to be extremely careful.’

‘I’ll look after him,’ Nymph promised, to Pyrgus’s fury.

‘Thank you, deeah. Now, from your landing coordinates, you should proceed north-east – directly north-east. The good news is it isn’t far – an hour’s march, two at most, and you may get some help from the nomads, although I wouldn’t count on it. The worst will be the hills: there’s a range of low, volcanic hills. But once you top that, you should have a clear view of what is happening.’

‘But what is ha-?’ Pyrgus tried to ask.

‘I want no heroics, Pyrgus. No guerrilla tactics, nothing like that. In fact, I want you to make sure you aren’t even seen. Just use the CC to report back to me at once.’

‘What am I reporting on?’ Pyrgus blurted desperately.

‘It looks as if Lord Hairstreak may have found some allies,’ said Madame Cardui.