Sir Thursday drove the bayonet into the mapboard with his last words, ripping and tearing at the wood with unbelievable ferocity. When he had reduced it to pieces, he impaled the remains with the bayonet, leaving the weapon quivering in a broken board.
He took a deep breath before turning back to face the parade.
‘I find this annoying, as you can see. That spike has sorcerously frozen a tile at point five hundred/five hundred. This is the master position of the maze, and if it is unable to move, no tiles can move. Consequently, I will be leading a force via the Improbable Stair to point five hundred/ five hundred. As the vast majority of Denizens are simply rejected by the Stair, I must take Piper’s children, who the Stair always accepts, and I am looking for twelve volunteers. We will go via the Stair, destroy the spike, and return on the Stair. Sergeant-Major!’
The RSM marched back out the front, drew in a deep lungful of air, and bellowed, ‘All those wishing to volunteer for a special assault via the Improbable Stair take one pace forward!’
Twenty-two
ARTHUR WAS TOO recent a product of recruit school. Even as his mind tried to tell him to think about it, his legs reacted like a galvanised frog to the word of command. He took one pace forward. So did Fred and, after a slight hesitation, Suzy. Peering across from the corner of his eye, Arthur could see at least another ten had stepped forward too. But that meant half the Piper’s children hadn’t volunteered.
‘Dismiss the rest,’ ordered Sir Thursday. ‘Get them out of my sight! If any of them hold rank, strip it from them! And find some stars for Mister Green.’
As the RSM bellowed commands at the non-volunteers, the Trustee paced to the narrow slit window and looked out. Arthur couldn’t see what he saw, but since it was a westward-facing window and they were high up, it was likely to be a huge host of New Nithlings, preparing for another assault on the outer bastions.
Arthur was probably going to see a lot of New Nithlings soon. But he was less worried about that than he was about Sir Thursday. Anyone capable of the berserk rage he’d just displayed after merely talking about something that made him angry was dangerous to be around. Even if you weren’t the Rightful Heir, intent on removing him from his position and taking his Key.
No sign of the Key anyway, thought Arthur. Or the Will, for that matter. The Key is probably a weapon, I would think. The Will could be anywhere, maybe not even in this demesne of the House.
‘Mister Green’s stars, sir,’ said the RSM to Sir Thursday, interrupting Arthur’s train of thought. The sergeant-major handed Sir Thursday a small velvet box.
‘Four paces forward please, Second Lieutenant Green,’ said Sir Thursday. Arthur marched forward and halted. Sir Thursday came up close, opened the box, and took out two diamond-shaped badges of gold. He pressed them to the epaulettes on Arthur’s shoulders, which instantly turned black and grew gold buttons, the ‘stars’ stitching themselves in near his shoulders.
‘Congratulations,’ said Sir Thursday. ‘You will be my second-in-command for this assault on the spike. Now, stand to my left and two paces behind me. You can’t go back in the ranks now.’
Arthur marched around and stood at attention behind Sir Thursday. Suzy slowly dipped one eyelid in what might have been a wink. Fred stared at a point above Arthur’s head and the other Piper’s children looked directly at him without apparently seeing him.
Now that he was able to see them, Arthur noticed that several of them were corporals, and there were even two sergeants. They would not be happy to discover that he was really only a partially trained recruit with one battle under his belt and that after a mere six weeks of training.
‘My plan is straightforward,’ said Sir Thursday. ‘We will emerge as close to the spike as is possible. I will need several minutes to destroy it and must not be interrupted in that time. You will hold off any enemy that may interfere. When the spike is destroyed, we will return via the Improbable Stair to the Citadel. Given that we will have complete surprise, we have a very good chance of success. Any questions?’
One of the sergeants, a serious-looking boy with flaxen hair and what appeared to be a painted-on yellow mustache, snapped to attention and raised his hand.
‘May we equip ourselves with our choice of weapons, sir?’
‘The central armoury is at your disposal,’ said Sir Thursday. ‘Nothing-powder weapons included. Though I must ask that you do not overburden yourselves. I cannot carry a dozen soldiers and a cannon up the Improbable Stair.’
He smiled to show this was a jest, and there was a ripple of dutiful laughter. Arthur smiled too, a bit late, but the smile was wiped off his face as Suzy snapped to attention and raised her hand.