The Great Troll War

King Mathew Speaks

His Supreme Royal Highness King Mathew of all the Kingdoms, defender of the free and rightful ruler of all that anyone might survey, anywhere, didn’t waste much time once he had assumed power. He at once dissolved all Conclaves, cancelled all outstanding plans and strategies that the Princess or I might have instigated, and at once convened a King’s Court which I, as Court Mystician, was invited to attend – but I suspected really only to be fired.

‘Thank you all for gathering,’ said King Mathew as soon as we were assembled in the Queens Hotel ballroom, ‘and my wife the Queen and I thank you for the kind notes of congratulations on our nuptials and the many pledges of allegiance and IOUs regarding presents which we have seen fit to embrace rather than publicly ridicule, as we first thought we might.’

No one said anything, so he continued.

‘I’ve only got a few things to say, and I shall be brief. Firstly, I am to wield absolute power in all the Kingdoms, and anyone who has not signed the book of allegiance in the foyer will be considered an enemy of the Crown. But, to show my caring nature, they shall not be executed, but banished: thrown forcibly across the Button Trench in the direction of the Trolls after being painted with gravy. My Queen, your Queen, the only queen in what I am now calling the United Kingdoms, is currently resting in her suite upstairs, and will not be troubling her tiny female brain on anything more onerous than domestic affairs – and has passed all her powers to me. Any promises you made to her are now mine, all loyalty granted to her is with me, any promises the Queen made to anyone else will be looked at on a case-by-case basis. Any questions?’

Again no one said anything.

‘It’s now Saturday evening, and the deal with Shandar will go ahead as planned on Monday at dawn. We have until then to find the Quarkbeast, muzzle it and have it ready for the handover. Anyone who tries to stop us in this endeavour will find their life and property forfeit.’

‘I have a question,’ I said.

‘Ah,’ he said, ‘Court Mystician and ex-knight of the realm. My wife has told me that handing out honours willy-nilly was a grave mistake that has now been retracted. You should really say “Your Majesty” when you speak to me, but I’ll settle for “Sire”. Now, what is the question?’

‘The Mighty Shandar cares nothing for humans or Trolls,’ I said. ‘After you hand over the Quarkbeast, Shandar will be more powerful than any sorcerer has ever been. The only course open to you right now is not to do what he asks and try to figure out his plan – and a way of stopping him.’

King Mathew seemed unimpressed.

‘Thank you, Court Mystician, for your valuable input, but you are totally wrong. This Mighty Shandar seems a reasonable man. We will give him what he wants, and if he breaks his word then we will be in the same state as if he hadn’t got rid of the Trolls. All that it will cost us is a Quarkbeast, which is no biggie – I never liked the mangy little cur anyway.’

‘You have no idea the evil that you are tackling, Sire,’ I said. ‘He will—’

‘Are you loyal?’ he asked suddenly.

‘I am loyal to the wishes of the Princess Shazine,’ I said.

‘And her wish is that I am in charge, Miss Strange. Are you loyal to me?’

‘I am loyal … to a just belief.’

‘I’ll take that as a no. You are to relinquish the Quarkbeast to my care. This is the way you are to serve the Crown. Your tenure as Court Mystician ends now, and the position will not be filled until there is some sense of loyalty from those in the magic profession.’

‘You’re making a huge mist—’

‘That’s all agreed, then. Miss Strange, you have until midnight tonight to surrender the little beast, and if you refuse I shall have you executed. Following on from that, all members of your entourage will be asked, in alphabetical order, to reveal the whereabouts of the Quarkbeast – and if they refuse, they too will be executed. Are we clear?’

‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ I said as tartly as I could, and left the conference.

Tiger and Boo were waiting for me in the dining room. The King, never one to shy away from publicity, had called in the local TV station to broadcast his every move and so, he hoped, cement his legacy as a great statesman who saved the Kingdoms from the Troll.

‘Well,’ said Tiger as I sat down between him and Boo, ‘that could have gone better. Does that mean I’m not an earl any more?’

‘I think it does.’

‘Good,’ he said. ‘I never much cared for it.’

I looked at my watch. Midnight was still two hours away and Shandar’s deadline the day after tomorrow at dawn.

‘What are we going to do?’ asked Tiger.

‘I’m not giving the Quarkbeast to anyone,’ I said, ‘but I also like my head where it is. Round up everyone loyal to our cause and we’ll meet in the Globe Late Night Scone Joint – there’s a room at the back. Only take care: the King’s spies will be everywhere, although they’re unlikely to be any good.’

I got up.

‘Where are you going?’ asked Boo.

‘To see the Princess.’

‘You’ll probably need this,’ she said, and passed me a glass globe about the size of a ping-pong ball.

‘It’s a 20:1 Quickener,’ she said. ‘Use it wisely.’

Boo, although a poor sorcerer herself owing to the loss of her index fingers, could still perform a few remote enchantments. Storing spells in globes has a long tradition as they only require you to break them open and the latent spell is activated – and then does instantly what it was intended to do.

I took the elevator to the hotel’s top floor, which had been requisitioned so the Royal Couple wouldn’t have to rub shoulders with ordinary people. I was going to have to speak to the Princess directly to get my head around her sudden turnaround.

The doors opened to reveal Princess Jocaminca, who was now head lady-in-waiting, responsible for helping the royal mind navigate its way around clothes, banquets, who to be friends with, that sort of thing. The best curtain-makers of Penzance had all been summoned, along with the local Farrow & Ball paint stockists and palace-designers so the Princess could make far-ranging and important decisions regarding the decor of the Royal Palace, wherever they decided it should be built, and of what.

‘The King has commanded you do not speak to our Queen,’ growled Princess Jocaminca.

‘I just want her to confirm to me her mind,’ I said. ‘Ten minutes.’

She raised an eyebrow provocatively – princesses do that – and four of Sir Matt Grifflon’s bodyguards started moving towards me, the wiry one with the wide-set eyes at the front. I wasn’t here to chat so crushed the globe containing the Quickener in the palm of my gloved hand. At that precise instant the world – with Princess Jocaminca and the guards in it – suddenly slowed down as time ground to a near-halt, the noise captured at that precise moment now a low hum. The Quickener was fixed at 20:1, so although it appeared to me as though everything had slowed down it was only because I had sped up: the next twenty seconds of my time would take a second of anyone else’s. It was the first weaponised use of magic, and the first to be banned. Not by the military leaders, obviously – they loved it. Armed with a Quickener even the most ham-fisted of swordsmen could kill ten others as they hurtled through time. No, they were banned by wizards themselves, who, unlike scientists and physicists in particular, often gave scant thought to whether if such a thing could be done, it should.

The Quickener had other uses, too, and not just to escape bears, for which it was originally intended. Move fast and you became a blur. It’s not invisibility but about as close as you are likely to get. I dashed forward as soon as time ground almost to a standstill and ran down the corridor, knowing that the only hint I was there at all would have been a faint smear of colour as I moved past. I had to waste precious seconds weaving past people and then more time figuring out which was the Royal Suite, but when I found it, I quickly darted through the open door and locked it behind me. Inside was another princess-now-lady-in-waiting so I swiftly bundled her stiff and unmoving form into the cupboard, just as the Quickener ran out, and time returned to normal. The sound rose from a low hum, and outside, the seagulls that had been frozen on the wing continued their flight. I walked through to the bathroom, where the Queen was in a large onyx tub, filled with milk.

‘Your Majesty,’ I said in greeting, ‘goodness – where did you get that much rabbit’s milk?’

‘It’s actually long-life milk from cartons,’ she said, ‘bought from the Co-op. But in times of need, we all have to slum it a little. Who are you and what do you want?’

‘It’s Jennifer Strange.’

‘So it is,’ she said, suddenly looking nervous. ‘My mind is made up, so you’d better leave. Guards!’

It looked like her, but it patently wasn’t. Boo had been unable to detect any spelling around her, so whatever was making the Princess act like an idiot, it wasn’t magic. There was only one possible explanation.

‘I get it,’ I said, suddenly realising. ‘Where did Sir Matt find you?’

‘It’s not Sir Matt, it’s King Mathew,’ she replied in a huffy tone, ‘and I think you are going to come to a very sticky end if you don’t reveal where your Quarkbeast is.’

‘It is Sir Matt Grifflon,’ I said. ‘He only gets to be King if he marries the Princess, and that’s not you, nor ever will or can be. So again: how did he find you?’

‘Very astute,’ said the impostor, realising that I would not be swayed. ‘I made myself known to him as soon as I heard my sister’s body complete with royal interloper had made it all the way to Cornwall. I had to make a few sacrifices of my own, you know, so don’t say I don’t deserve this.’

She raised her right arm from the bath of milk. The real Princess had lost her right hand to Hollow Men a couple of weeks before and the impostor had severed her own hand too – if she hadn’t, she could never have hoped to pass for the Princess. Judging by the level of healing, it looked as though she had used a rapid-healing balm, and that would have cost the same as a house. No one had been doing those spells for years, and the cost of old stock rose higher each year.

‘That’s commitment to a cause,’ I said, ‘and you’re going to be sorely pissed off when you find it was all for nothing.’

But the fake princess seemed to be made of sterner stuff, and wasn’t going to be easily beaten.

‘No one will believe you,’ she said in an arrogant tone, ‘and no one will believe the Princess even if she can escape and presents herself at court. I am the Queen, my husband is the King, we have the authority and the government and the army – and that’s really all that matters. Give up the Quarkbeast, Miss Strange – it’s the only play you have left.’

‘This isn’t over,’ I said, as the shouts from the princess in the cupboard had alerted the guards, who were now banging on the bedchamber door.

‘It is for you,’ said the pretend Princess, ‘but I’ll throw you a bone. Give us the Quarkbeast and I will have the King reinstate you as Court Mystician. It will be mostly ceremonial, but even so – it’s a job. So be a good little girl and do as we ask, okay?’

I said nothing, and without having thought of an exit plan, simply lifted up the sash window and stepped outside onto the roof, meaning to find the fire escape and go down that way. I didn’t have to as Colin was waiting for me, seated on the roof parapet and reading a copy of Mortal Engines.

‘I’m so sorry about your brother,’ I said. ‘He gave his life to me and the cause.’

‘It’s a worthy cause, Jen,’ he said, wedging the book behind his ear. ‘It’s up to us to ensure his sacrifice – and that of others – was not in vain. Boo said you could do with an escape plan. Where to?’

‘Just fly,’ I said, feeling tired and lost and without ideas. ‘Take me to Land’s End to see the moon reflected in the sea. After that I need to contact William of Anorak – and then we’ll hit the meeting at the Globe.’