Sir Thursday(74)

Twenty-six





‘ I AM THE Rightful Heir, you know,’ said Arthur, with weary resignation. He lifted the Fourth Key. It shrank as he raised it, transforming itself from a sword into a slender Marshal’s baton of ivory wreathed in tiny golden laurel leaves. The baton began to glow with a green light reminiscent of the Great Maze’s moon as Arthur held it up. He levelled it directly at Sir Thursday, keeping it in line with the Trustee’s now strangely yellow-tinged eyes.

‘Atten-hut!’

Everyone in the room stood at attention, except for Arthur and Sir Thursday. The Trustee’s eyes grew even more yellow, and a vein stood out and began to throb upon his forehead as he tried to resist the power of the Key. Then, ever so slowly, his boots began to slide across the floor, coming together with a loud click of his heels. His hands went to his sides, and the sword he’d taken angled back to rest on his shoulder.

‘You are stripped of all rank and privileges,’ said Arthur. His voice echoed with power, sounding deeper, stronger, and much scarier than any boy’s should.

Sir Thursday’s epaulettes flew off and his buttons rained upon the floor. His sword snapped into three pieces and the hilt became rusty powder in his hand.

Arthur lowered the Fourth Key.

‘Marshal Dawn, take whoever you need with you and get Sir Thursday locked up somewhere safe. Make sure he can’t escape, but also make sure he is guarded from outsiders too. Somebody is killing all the former Trustees.’

‘Yes, sir!’ snapped Dawn. She took off her belt and used it to bind Sir Thursday’s hands. He did not resist, but he glowered at Arthur, his deep-set eyes staring at the boy with undisguised hatred. Dawn gestured at two colonels to help her, and together they led Sir Thursday from the room.

‘Good riddance,’ said the Will. ‘Now, Lord Arthur, the situation is quite grave. I believe that our first step should be to try Sir Thursday in a properly constituted court so that he can answer for his many crimes –’ ‘Marshal Noon,’ said Arthur, using two fingers to hold the snake’s mouth shut, ‘has anyone tried negotiating with these New Nithlings?’

Marshal Noon looked at the frustrated Will coiled on Arthur’s arm, then back at the boy. ‘No, sir. It has never been possible to negotiate with Nithlings.’

‘My brother is a soldier,’ said Arthur. ‘An officer. He told me once that every army always fights its current war as if it were the previous one, learning no lessons from what is actually happening.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Noon – but he looked puzzled.

‘What I mean is that we are being attacked not by the old kind of Nithling. These are New Nithlings. Everything is different about them. And they are led by the Piper. At least I guess it’s him. Sir Thursday thought so, and he’d have no reason to lie about that. Which makes me wonder what the Piper and his Nithlings actually want.’

‘To destroy us, sir,’ said Noon.

‘That’s what Nithlings usually want,’ said Arthur wearily. ‘But like I said, everything is different about these New Nithlings. Otherwise we wouldn’t even be in this situation. Which reminds me, what is the situation?’

‘It’s serious,’ Noon reported. ‘We should view the battlefield, but in essence, the New Nithlings around the Citadel continue to be reinforced. There was an assault half an hour ago, which nearly carried the outer southwest bastion. We are low on firewash, have very little Nothing-powder, and the garrison is not up to full strength. The New Nithlings are constantly reinforced, while we are not. We have a force of seventeen thousand, two hundred and eighty-six at last report in the Citadel, and about another sixty-two thousand troops at the White Keep, Fort Transformation, the Cannon Arsenal, and Irontoe Hold. But with the tiles stopped, there is no way we can be reinforced in time by marching, as it is too far. Besides, they will be beset themselves, since there are so many enemy in the Maze. The enemy force against us here numbers at least seventy-five thousand, with tens of thousands more on the march. Without tectonic strategy, we cannot prevent their arrival.’

‘Lord Arthur,’ interrupted the snake, which Arthur had let go. ‘If the Citadel is in danger of falling, then we should leave, being sure to take our prisoner so he may answer to justice –’

‘Shut up!’ ordered Arthur. ‘What is it with you Parts of the Will? You can’t see the forest for the trees. Besides, even if I was going to leave – which I’m not – I’m sure there’s no way out except the Improbable Stair, which I am not going to take, because I do not want to use the Key! Is that clear?’