The Accidental sorcerer

CHAPTER ELEVEN

'To get you all primed to spy on her brother, I'll bet,' said Reg.

Princess Melissande gave her a haughty look. 'Must you retiuce everything to the crudest possible motive?' Reg smirked. 'Told you, sunshine.'

'Then perhaps you'd like to tell me what else I'm supposed to do?' the princess demanded.'Since you're such a font of wisdom. I have to know what happens in that meeting, this kingdoms future could depend on it, and since Lional refuses to let me be there — '

'All right, all right,' said Reg. 'I never said you were wrong, did I? No need to get your bloomers in a twist, ducky'

'What she means. Your Highness,' Gerald said quickly, 'is that you're in a very difficult position and — ' 'And I don't wish to talk about it here,' said the princess, still glaring at Reg. 'You're looking claustrophobic, Professor. I thmk you're overdue for some fresh air. Meet me downstairs in the east wing forecourt in twenty minutes.' 'Why? Where are we going?'

'Where do you think?' she said, sounding resigned. 'Sightseeing, of course. Didn't you know? On top of everything else, I'm New Ottosland's Minister of Grand Tours!' Half an hour later they were seated in a scarlet and gold touring carriage pulled by a pair of flashy dapple grey horses, bowling along a wide, tree-lined avenue. The sky was cloudless and deeply blue, the air flower-scented and fresh. Delightful.The carriage, unfortunately, was rococo in the extreme, all gilded carved fruit and simpering cherubs with hideously love-struck expressions. Gerald squashed himself into one corner, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Thank God Monk can't sec me now.Thank God no-one I know can see me now. It was bad enough that the pavement strollers and passengers in passing carriages and street-corner vendors and impressively uniformed policemen on foot patrol could see him.

Sitting opposite, the princess noticed his discomfit and snorted. 'Welcome to my world, Professor.' 'Thank you,' he said. 'I think.'

She smiled wickedly and pointed her predictably no-nonsense green parasol over the side of the carriage. 'Now, to your left you'll see the Royal Music Hall. Isn't it pretty?'

He considered the Music Hall's impressive marble steps and its honour guard of pigeon-splattered dead composer statues lining the entrance. 'I was going to say familiar. In fact, everything looks familiar.'

'You noticed? It's quite simple. We never got over being a colony. There isn't a street or a building here whose original you won't find back in the Old Country.' The princess grimaced. 'It's ghastly, like living inside an echo. What I wouldn't give to just once see somebody else's idea of architecture!' 'What's stopping you?'

She looked at him. 'Nothing much. Just a small matter of running the kingdom.'

'But you've got staff. And what about His Majesty?' 'Yes?' she sighed.'What about him?'

Gerald opened his mouth to answer but was stopped by Reg whacking him over the head with her wing. She was sitting behind him on one of the cherub's plump bottoms and humming a risque ditty under her breath in time to the dip-clop of the carriage horses' hooves. 'Ow!' he exclaimed, and turned. 'Now what?'

She pointed at the driver sitting high above them on his box. 'Discretion, Gerald! Muggins up there is probably taking notes.' 'No, he's not,' said the princess.'He's deaf

'"Deaf as a post" deaf, or "I'm a loyal servant and it'll cost a lot more than that to loosen my lips, squire" deaf?' Reg demanded.

'Deaf as a post deaf, of course. Why do you think I chose him to drive the carriage? Oh, look,' the princess added, and waved the parasol. 'There's the Royal Zoo! Do you know, Professor, I'm sure they have a spare birdcage in there somewhere. Would you like me to ask?'

He patted spluttering Reg on the head. 'She'd only teach the other parrots rude words.'

Princess Melissande sat back amongst the carriage's overstuffed cushions and considered Reg thoughtfully.'I'm sorry but I have to ask. Where did you find such a singular creature? If there's another one in existence anywhere in the world I swear I'll eat my parasol. With mustard.'

'Good idea,' said Reg. 'You've the look of a woman who doesn't get enough roughage.' Gerald winced.'Reg!'

'Well what do you expect? She called me a singular creature!' 'It was a compliment.Wasn't it, Your Highness?'

The princess looked down her nose. 'Not intentionally'

'Rightl' squawked Reg. 'I've had this. You and me, madam, parasols at twenty paces, and — '

He grabbed her and pushed her beak-first among the cushions. We seem to have strayed from the topic. I believe Your Highness was wondering how Reg and I met…'

'Well, yes, I was,' agreed the princess. 'But now I'm wondering what the wretched bird's lung capacity is.'

He rescued Reg and dangled her in front of his face.'Have you quite finished?'

She spat out a beakful of cushion fluff, gasping. 'Gerald Dunwoody!' 'I'm sorry, Reg, but Her Highness — ' 'Oh, call me Melissande,' said the princess.

'Thank you, Your — Melissande,' he said, surprised.'And you can call me Gerald.' Her lips quirked in a wry smile. 'Yes, I know' She was the most irritating woman…

Wriggling free of his grasp, Reg hopped onto the nearest cherub's dimpled buttocks and scowled. 'If you must know, madam, and not that it's any of your business, Gerald and I met when he helped me out of a sticky situation.'

Remembering, he laughed. 'Literally. I was in the local woods, looking for fresh wizard's beard for one of my First Year assignments, and practically fell over her. She'd managed to get herself gummed up in some bird lime and was swearing so hard she didn't hear me coming. So I ungummed her and we've been stuck with each other ever since.'

'Gracious,' said Melissande, dryly. 'It sounds positively romantic'

'Romantic?' screeched Reg.'If you don't mind, I'm old enough to be his — ' 'Yes?'

'Aunty,' said Reg, eyes gleaming. 'Gerald's problem is he can't resist a damsel in distress.'

'Well then," said Melissande, 'lucky for him I'm not in distress.' 'Or a damsel.'

'Anyway…' he said quickly, 'about the Kallarapi delegation…'

Melissande drummed her fingers on her knee. 'Yes. About them. Prince Nerim is Sultan Zazoor's younger brother; his official title is Blood of the Sultan. I get the feeling if there'd been another brother to send he'd have been spared a long camel ride. Shugat is the sultan's holy man. He's the most important religious figure in Kallarap. Nerim's a lightweight. Shugat's the one to look out for.'

'And what do you think they're hoping to get out of this meeting?"

She pulled a face. 'From the number of camels they brought, I think they're expecting to take a lot of our money with them when they go.'

'Are there enough funds in Treasury to cover the entire debt?'

Melissande hesitated, her expression troubled. 'Barely,' she said at last. 'But it pretty much wipes us out. Since he took the throne Lional's been a bit… extravagant, in places. If we could just get terms for an extended period of payment… I'm sure Zazoor would agree, he's not unreasonable.' 'And what about His Majesty?'

'I don't know. He — ' She stopped, distracted by the delighted cries and excited hand-waving from a long crocodile line of schoolgirls out for an airing. Gritting her teeth she smiled a professional, painted-on smile and waved back. 'Sometimes,' she muttered, as the schoolgirls squealed and clutched at each other despite their scandalised mistress, 'I think I should just put myself in the zoo and be done with it.'

'Good idea,' said Reg. 'You can have my cage, I won't be using it any time soon.'

Melissande glared. 'Don't count on it.' The carriage rounded a corner into yet another tree-lined avenue of stately buildings, leaving the schoolgirls behind. She heaved a sigh of relief and stopped waving.

'All right,' he said. 'Let's assume the worst and say the king categorically refuses to pay up. What are the chances of the Kallarapi deciding to, I don't know, take back New Ottosland in lieu of monies owed?'

'I haven't a clue. But let's hope it doesn't come to that,' Melissande replied. 'If they did decide to invade we'd have no hope of stopping them.'

Disconcerted, Gerald considered her grim expression. 'Why not?'

'Because quite apart from the fact that the Kallarapi have an ancient and sophisticated warrior tradition and we don't, the only army we've got is Rupert's old tin soldiers in the nursery'

Reg choked. 'What do you mean, you've got no army? What self-respecting kingdom doesn't have its own army?'

'We did have one, once," the princess said, defensive. 'But nobody ever attacked us. All the soldiers did was sit around eating and playing dice. They were costing the crown a fortune, so one of the Lionals — number twenty-seven, I think — pensioned them off.We never missed them.'

Until now. Gerald shook his head. Deary, deary me, as Reg would say. This lot really are in a pickle. Wliat a pity they can't pension off the current King Lional…

'So let me get this straight, Your — Melissande,' he said carefully. 'In all the centuries since New Ottosland was established the Kallarapi never once tried to invade you or — '

'Never. They're a scrupulously honourable people, Gerald. When they signed the treaty that established New Ottosland they swore an oath to never attack us, and they take their oaths seriously.'

'How seriously? I mean, what's the penalty for breaking one?'

'You don't want to know,' said Melissande. 'Vomiting in public is so uncouth.'

This was just getting better and better. 'So if His Majesty doesn't pay up then as far as the Kallarapi are concerned he's an oath-breaker?'

'Well, nobody's actually come right out and said it, but…'

'If the crown fits,' Reg concluded, and ruffled her feathers.'Glory gumboots.And if the Kallarapi do declare him an oath-breaker then all bets are off. Deary, deary me, you lot really are in the privy, aren't you?'

Melissande sighed. 'Yes. To be honest, I'm afraid this audience today might be a case of too little, too late. I've tried to convince myself it's not, but — '

Reg gave a snort of disgust. 'But in fact, ducky, the light at the end of the tunnel is most likely the sun glinting on a million righteous Kallarapi swords!'

'I know!' said Melissande, freckles pronounced against her sudden pallor. 'Why do you think I'm so worried?'

'You're worried?' Reg retorted. 'What about my Gerald? Your nincompoop of a brother is obviously under the misguided impression his wizard's a one-man army in disguise!'

In which case King Lional was destined to be bitterly disappointed.'It's out of the question,' Gerald said, leaning forward. 'I'm not an oath-breaker either, Melissande. I won't be a party to — '

'Violence, I knowV she shouted.'But Gerald, you have to do something! You said it yourself! It's your duty!'

'His duty?' shrieked Reg, before he could protest on his own behalf. 'And what about yours? What kind of prime minister lets matters get sucked this far down the gurgler, eh? Well, don't just sit there like a soggy pudding, madam. Answer me!'

Melissande's face now burned a dull red. 'You don't understand. It's not as — '

'Oh, I understand, all right!' snapped Reg. 'You and your idiot brother have made a complete mess of things and now you expect Gerald to pull your bacon out of the fire before it's burned to a crisp! Well let me tell you something, ducky, I won't have it! I won't have you — '

'Oh, shut up, you stupid bird!' cried Melissande, and threw the nearest pillow.

'Hey!' said Gerald, catching the pillow and tossing it out of the carriage. 'Don't you tell her to shut up! She's got a point! I'm a wizard, not a miracle-worker, and I've only been here a day. Now you expect me to solve an international crisis with one snap of my fingers? What are you, crazy?

'Of course she is,' said Reg, nodding vigorously. 'Didn't I tell you it runs in the family? Perhaps next time you'll listen when I — '

'If you don't shut up,' hissed Melissande,'I swear I'll feed you to Boris! For your information I am not crazy, I'm desperate! In fact I am so desperate I'm prepared to entrust the fate of my kingdom and all its subjects to a Third Class wizard who takes advice from some freakish mutated parrot with terminal verbal diarrhoea!' She laughed, somewhat wildly. Which means I must be crazy!' Abruptly, the laughter exploded into a loud sob. 'Oh damnV she cried, threw herself face down into the remaining cushions, and burst into tears.

Horrified, Gerald stared at Melissande's heaving shoulders. Oh, God, what do I do now? She's royalty and we're in public, I can't cuddle her…

Reg jumped over to the seat beside the weeping princess and poked her in the behind with her beak. There was an eruption of cushions as Melissande wrenched herself upright. 'How dare you? You are the most repulsive creature I've ever met!'

'In that case you need to get out more,' Reg retorted. 'Now just you get a grip on yourself, Madam Watering-Pot. Yours aren't the kind of looks that are improved by blubbering. Besides, this isn't the behaviour I expect from a princess. Or a prime minister. You've got to walk the walk, ducky, not just talk the talk.'

As Melissande gaped, speechless, Gerald fished out a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. 'She means well, you know. And she's right.'

'Really?' said Melissande, snatching the handkerchief and pressing it to her wet face. 'What about? The fact I'm a frump or that I'm a failure?'

Hello, my name is Gerald and I'm between a rock and a hard place… 'You're not a failure,' he said after a difficult pause.

'Yes I am,' she retorted, glowering. 'I never should've let Lional start this stupid game of brinksmanship with Zazoor, I knew it'd end up pear-shaped.' She looked at the soggy handkerchief. 'Do you want this back?'

'Not particularly. Besides, I've got another one somewhere.'

She shoved it up her sleeve and heaved a shuddering sigh. 'I'm sorry, Gerald. I never should have dragged you into this.'

Yes, she was bossy. But she wasn't so bad, really. He shrugged.'It's all right. 1 let myself be dragged.'

'Well, for what it's worth…' She managed a watery smile.'I'm glad.'

'Oh pleaseV cried Reg, and dove headfirst into the cushions.

Melissande stared at her kicking toes. 'She's muttering about arses and tea-kettles. Should we take her to a vet?'

'Doctor, if you don't mind!' snapped Reg, sitting up. 'And no. I'm not the one who needs his head examined!'

A rancorous silence fell.'Look,' said Gerald at last, 'there's no point getting all worked up over what might happen, Melissande. I'll do whatever it takes to keep His Majesty from doing something… regrettable… in the meeting. I promise.'

'Whatever it takes. I hope those aren't famous last words.' She sniffed. 'AH right.Thank you. Now, we'd best get back to the palace. I've got appointments scheduled all afternoon and that's before Lional gives me his daily list of Things I Can't Be Bothered Doing Myself So Just Take Care Of Them For Me, Would You?' 'As you wish, Your Highness.'

Extracting her parasol from beneath the cushions, Melissande turned and poked the driver between his shoulder blades. When he looked round, expression enquiring, she bawled, 'Home, William!'William touched his fingers to the curly brim of his coachman's hat and took a left-hand turn along yet another tree-lined street.

'You know,' Gerald mused, 'when you think about it, the underlying cause of all this kerfuffle is the fact you're totally reliant on Kallarap for getting things in and out of the country. Why not just arrange for some industrial-grade portals and bypass the Kallarapi altogether?'

Melissande slumped against the carriage cushions. 'We can't afford them.The only reason we've got any kind of portal at all is because Pomodoro Uffitzi constructed one for us.'

What? Wliat? He'd travelled halfway across the world in an amateur unsanctioned portal? 'But — but that's illegal]' he protested. 'There's international law governing portal installations. They're supposed to be constructed by a specially certified thaumaturgical company and inspected regularly. If something went wrong someone could — ' She appeared surprised.'Nothing's gone wrong.'

'No, not yet! But if your portal's a do-it-yourself job by some smart-alec nobody wizard then it's only a matter of time!'

'Oh, but — Pomodoro Uffitzi — he wasn't a nobody, he had pages of commendations and awards and references, he wouldn't — '

He could easily have shaken her silly. 'Melissande! Portal installation is a specialist's job.' He stared at her, aghast, but she didn't seem to realise the gravity of the situation. 'Look, I do know what I'm talking about, I used to be a thaumaturgical compliance officer!'

'Well you're not one now,' she snapped, flushed. 'Now you're an honorary New Ottosland citizen. And you can't report us, it'd be treason.'

/ take it back. She's as bad as the king. 'I was an oath-sworn wizard before I was a New Ottoslander, honorary or otherwise, and — '

'So you keep saying,' she said impatiently. 'Fine. I'll hang a great big Out of Order sign on the portal door. Happy now?'

'Oh yes,' he said. 'I can just see your brother paying attention to that.'

Reg broke the crackling silence with a pointed rattling of her tail feathers. 'Yes, well, I suggest we worry about this little hiccup after we've dealt with the Kallarapi. What d'you say?' 'Fine,' muttered Gerald. 'Excellent,' snarled Melissande. 'Oh, please,' groaned Reg.

After that there was nothing more to be said. During the forty-five minute journey back to the palace they clip-clopped over the picturesque Canal Bridge, past the fountain-studded Art Gallery, the Mint, the recently vacated House of Ministers, an Academy for Young Gentlemen, a Seminary for Young Ladies, the Royal Playhouse, the Royal Opera House and down the full length of fashionable King Lional High Street where all the important people bought their necessities, apparently.

Eventually they arrived at the palace's rear entrance. Various servants bustled in and out with messages and packages and a constant stream of tradesmen's wagons trundled further along to the loading bay, where another servant was ticking off their deliveries and arguing about payment. They alighted from the carriage and stood looking at each other.

'Well,' said Melissande. 'That's that, then. You'll come and see me, after the meeting?'

Gerald made sure Reg was secure on his shoulder, and bowed.'Certainly, Your Highness.' 'Good. Excellent.'

She turned on her heel and marched away. He watched her go, frowning. 'I can't believe she let me travel through an unregulated portal. I could've been killed!

' We could've been killed,' Reg pointed out. 'But we weren't, so let's worry about it later. Right now there are far more interesting things to worry about.'

Yes. Like spying for the princess. He swallowed a groan. 'Fancy a walk? I need to air my brain, and those look like gardens over there…'

They were indeed gardens. Beautiful ones, spreading out from the palace in a lake ot colour and perfume. If they were Lional the Forty-Second's legacy, well, royalty had surely done worse. Like now, for instance.

Reg whistled approvingly as they wandered among the flowerbeds. 'Very nice. If more kings stuck to harmless pursuits like weeding and fertilising, the world would be a better place.' 'I say!' cried an excited voice.'I say, ProfessorV

Gerald turned — and there was Prince Rupert, bouncing up and down in the middle of a neighbouring pansy patch. Both hands were filled with plucked blooms.

He smiled and waved. 'Good morning, Your Highness.'

'Rupert,' said the prince. 'Remember? I'm just collecting a few treats for my butterflies. Since you're out and about would you like to come and see them?'

No. I've got better things to do with my time, like panic about this stupid meeting where I'm single-handedly supposed to avert a full-scale international invasion, complete with camels.

Reg leaned close to his ear. 'Say yes,' she muttered. 'He may be a prat but he's a royal prat. Never get on the wrong side of royalty, sunshine. It always ends badly.'

Swallowing a groan, he made himself smile. 'That sounds lovely, Rupert,' he said. 'I'd be honoured.'

Rupert beamed. 'Splendid! Come along, then! Follow me!' Rupert's butterfly house was situated on the far side of the gardens. Flooded with light, it was filled with beautifully maintained cages, a variety of aromatic mini-habitats and an immaculately arranged workroom containing butterfly food, magnifying glasses, three crammed bookcases, two microscopes and a wide array of nets and other butterfly-catching paraphernalia.

Gerald was surprised. Given Rupert's scatterbrained demeanour he'd not expected such clutterless order and pristine attention to detail. As for the butterflies… there were hundreds, in every colour, shape and size imaginable. They were riotously beautiful… and he hadn't been expecting that, either. Whoever noticed butterflies?

Rupert was still beaming. 'Don't tell Lional, but I call this butterfly house "my little kingdom",' he confessed. 'And a well-run little kingdom it is too.'

'Well, you know, the butterflies rely on me, don't they?' said Rupert, as they wandered past cage after cage of jewel-bright insects. 'If I didn't look after them properly they might get sick, or die, and that would be unforgiveable.'

He nodded. 'You're right. It would be.' He stopped in front of a cage neatly labelled: Vampirella Majcsticas. Danger: Do Not Touch. The savagely scarlet and black insects clustered on their hunks of fresh raw meat and waved ominous antennae at him. Safely anchored to his shoulder, Reg burbled like a kettle with a sock shoved down its spout. He stroked her wing with a reassuring finger. 'So… they really are dangerous, then?'

'Everyone's dangerous, Gerald,' Rupert said gently. 'Or they can be, if you're not careful. I mean, you seem like a terribly nice chap and all that, especially for a wizard, but I expect you could do a mischief or two if you put your mind to it.'

'Well, yes, I could' he admitted reluctantly 'Only I wouldn't.'

'No, you wouldn't,' said Rupert. 'You're a thoroughly decent chap, I can tell. But some wizards aren't so scrupulous, Gerald. I've heard stories…'

The sight of the Majesticas sucking blood from the raw meat was… unsettling. He turned away. 'Old stories from our distant past, Rupert. It's true that once upon a time there were wizards who abused their powers, wizards who ran amok doing unspeakable things. But not any more. My colleagues and I are closely monitored. There are terrible penalties for the irresponsible uses of magic these days. Modern wizarding is about humanitarian advances and scientific discovery, not subjugation and warfare and dark deeds in the dead of night.' Rupert beamed.'Well, that's a relief!'

'Honestly,' he insisted as they continued to wander past more butterfly enclosures. 'Wizardry's perfectly safe and reliable these days. Those other kinds of wizard are history'

'I'm very pleased to hear you say so,' said Rupert earnestly. 'Because when you get right down to it there's something not very nice about a person who likes other people to be afraid of him. A person like that bears very close watching, don't you agree?'

'Er… yes. Probably' he said, after a moment. Was it his imagination or was Rupert trying to tell him something…

Rupert, his watery blue eyes wide, smiled his foolish, tremulous smile. 'You're staring, Gerald. Was it something I said?'

'What? Oh! No! Sorry. I just — I was off with the butterflies.'

Rupert chortled. 'I say. that's a good one! "Off with the butterflies"! I must remember that! Now, I expect you'll want to be on your way. Busy, busy, busy. I'll see you again soon, though, yes?'

'Yes. Yes,' said Gerald. 'And thanks for showing me around.'

Outside in the gentle sunshine, Reg cackled. 'Hard to believe he's related to the other two, isn't it?'

'Practically impossible,' he agreed as they headed back to the palace. 'He's such a fluffy, harmless man I feel guilty for getting impatient with him.'

Reg snorted. 'He's such a fluffy, harmless man that after five minutes in his company I want to rush to the nearest park and find some pigeons to poison!'

'Oh, come on, Reg! You don't! I mean, isn't that practically mur-'

'Why hello, there. Professor,' said King Lional, stepping out from behind one of the large, flowering trees that lined the path. 'Fancy meeting you here.'

Gerald stopped, heart pounding, and managed a ragged bow. 'Your Majesty! Ah — you startled me.' Lional smiled. 'I'm sure I did.' 'Is there something I can do for Your Majesty?'

'Indeed there is,' said the king. There was something… unsettling in that smile. 'You can introduce me to your loquacious little friend!'