Sir Thursday(73)

Arthur heard the Denizen behind him scream and felt him let go. Sir Thursday was trying to rip the snake that was Part Four of the Will from his hand. The Marshals were drawing their swords. Everyone else was huddling back against the walls, some drawing weapons, but most just watching in stunned amazement and fear.

Arthur knew what to do. He spun around, reached up, and, exerting every last ounce of his strength, pulled the sword out of the wood. It clanged onto the ground, because it was too heavy for him to hold up. Arthur knelt beside it and gripped the hilt.

Then he spoke in the clearest voice he could muster.

‘I, Arthur, Anointed Heir to the Kingdom, claim this Key and with it …’ Sir Thursday howled in rage, plucked the snake from his hand, and threw it across the room. Then he snatched a sword from the nerveless hands of a staff major and, still howling like a beast, ran at Arthur.

His path and his swordplay were blocked by the Marshals. It took all three of them to do it, their blades clashing and weaving as they fought to hold off the ravening monster that Sir Thursday had become.

Arthur spoke faster and faster, his gaze on the lightning-fast interplay of swords.

‘With it command of the Glorious Army of the Architect, and mastery of the Great Maze. I claim it by blood and bone and contest. Out of truth, in testament, and against all trouble!’

Something touched his leg and Arthur shrieked, rather spoiling the momentary silence that had fallen as he finished claiming the Key. He looked down and saw the snake spiralling up and around his leg.

The Marshals took advantage of Sir Thursday’s momentary distraction, backing him into a corner, but he was neither disarmed nor defeated. It was all the three Marshals could do to keep him there and protect themselves from his lightning lunges and cuts. He might no longer have the Fourth Key, but he was still extremely dangerous.

‘Point the Key at him and order him to stand to attention,’ hissed the Will. It had coiled most of its body around Arthur’s upper arm and stretched up from there so its diamond-shaped head was unnervingly close to his ear.

‘I don’t want to use the Key,’ whispered Arthur.

‘What!?’ hissed the Will. ‘I know you’re the Rightful Heir! I can tell!’

‘Yes, I am,’ Arthur whispered back. ‘But … look, we’ll talk about it later.’

‘So you have my Key,’ called out Sir Thursday. He lowered his sword, but the Marshals did not press home their attack. ‘However, it takes more than that to command my Army, particularly when the enemy is at the gates. I take it the enemy is still at the gates?’

‘Yes, sir,’ said a colonel uncertainly. ‘But we are confident that when the tiles start to move again, the enemy will lose heart –’ ‘The tiles will not move,’ said Sir Thursday. ‘Due to treachery, I failed. The spike was not destroyed.’

His words were met by gasps, suppressed moans, and even one or two outright cries of despair. Several officers looked away; only a very few looked to Arthur. Their behaviour indicated that the situation was very bad, and now that Arthur thought to listen, he could distantly hear the sound of battle, though there was no cannon fire.

Which was either good or bad, depending on whether it was due to lack of Nothing-powder or because whatever attack was in progress wasn’t that serious.

‘I am Lord Arthur, the Rightful Heir of the Architect,’ Arthur announced. ‘I am assuming command. Marshals Dawn, Noon, and Dusk, I want you to disarm and arrest the Denizen formerly known as Sir Thursday.’

‘I command the Army by order of Lord Sunday, conveyed in writing by Superior Saturday,’ countered Sir Thursday. ‘Perhaps I was hasty in demanding the Piper’s children be executed, but we are at war. Surely you all know that I am the only one who can lead us to victory over the New Nithlings. Arrest this Arthur, and in due course we can look into his claims and hold a proper court of enquiry.’

‘Use the Key!’ hissed the Will.

‘The Will of the Architect has chosen me,’ said Arthur desperately. He raised his arm to show the snake. ‘This is Part Four of Her Will.’

He could feel the mood of the Denizens in the room changing. They would so easily fall back into the familiar pattern of obedience to Sir Thursday.

‘What Will?’ asked Sir Thursday. He took a step forward, and the three Marshals stepped back, their weapons lowered. ‘That is merely a sorcerous snake, a thing of the Upper House. An embellishment to the Key. Colonel Repton, you are close there. Arrest Lieutenant Green, as he actually is. You see that he cannot use the Key, don’t you?’

‘Use the Key!’ hissed the Will again, desperation coming through in its soft serpent voice.