Roland's Castle (30 page)

“Seems like everything is set
then,” said Oliver.

“The odds are still against us,”
Roland said, “Very much so. Do we fight?”

“We must,” said Savitri.

“Yes,” said Oliver, “I am sure that
the villagers will be behind you.”

“So when do we go?” asked
Savitri.

“Not yet,” said Roland.

When?” Oliver pressed.

“There will be a sign,” Roland
said.

That evening there was indeed a
sign. A bright streak of light shot downwards through the sky,
making straight for the top the hill of the Scary Oak. Lumenfarge
had returned.

With a bagful of inspiration
Roland, Oliver and Savitri made their way down the staircase to the
visible part of the tower. Firebrace’s rescue could only have
tipped off the Spirus that there was some danger within the castle.
They would now be alert and on guard, and the trio were going to
have to tread carefully.

Looking over from the safety of the
invisible part of the tower they could see no sign of any Spirus so
they stepped across and cautiously made their way down the stairs
to the doorway at the base. They moved carefully and quietly,
checking ahead in case of ambush. It seemed there were no Spirus in
the tower. Presumably they had chased up the stairs and then come
to a very puzzled halt at the topmost step of the visible bit,
searched the rest and then gone away to wonder about it.

The door at the base had been
broken in. Roland stuck his head out of the doorway and saw that
two Spirus were standing guard on it. Oddly, the two Spirus
sentries seemed to be guarding against people going into the tower
rather than coming out of it. Roland and Savitri stepped out of the
doorway without being seen and swiftly knocked their heads off. As
they did there was the rushing-whooshing sound that Roland had
heard when Savitri had dealt with the guards outside the command
tent. Roland now saw it was accompanied by a jet of red mist
erupting out of their necks and heading skywards as their armour
collapsed into heaps.

“Two down,” Roland said.

“Two down,” Savitri confirmed.

There were no other Spirusses in
the courtyard, just the scuttlers and the prisoners. The scuttlers
had gone back to sleep and the way to the kitchens did not take the
trio near them.

One of the doorways to the kitchens
opened directly onto the courtyard. They passed through it to find
only human chefs and kitchen hands, busy at their tasks. Roland
struck a large pan with his sword to get their attention. They all
looked towards him, startled. Plainly they were working under
threat and in fear, and it showed.

“Have the land surveyors been fed
yet?” Roland asked.

One of the chefs stepped forwards,
“My liege! it is good to see you again! So good! Thank goodness you
are here!”

“Good to see you too,” Roland said,
and nodded at the man, although he did not recognise him. He made a
mental note to pay more attention to the staff in future — it might
be important when it came to knowing whom he could trust in such
situations.

“This meal is for the Land
Surveyors, I take it,” he said, pointing at what had been
prepared.

"Yes, they are the only ones we feed now,"
said the chef, confirming what the prisoners had already told,
“They are always eating, there is always food being made for them.
If not they call out for it – very loudly, and ring the bells! The
meal is finished and ready to be taken to them.”

“We will take it to them. Stay here
until we’re finished. We’ll come back for you and take you to
safety.”

The trio donned aprons and got out
the bag of inspiration, sprinkling a good dose on every dish. Then
they grabbed trays and piled the plates onto them. When all was
ready they headed for the throne room trusting that any Spirus they
met wouldn’t think twice about them whilst they were dressed as
servants and

carrying trays of food. They were
correct in the assumption too. A squad of Spirus marched past them
on the way, not noticing that they were intruders.

The trio entered the throne room to
find the land surveyors squabbling over their latest plans. “What
about the centre piece,” one was saying, “We really must have a
central focus!”

“We should definitely have a
sculpture park!” said a second, “Sculpture parks are so very
now!”

“They were then,” said a third,
bitingly.

“What about fountains?” said a
fourth.

“Oh you and your fountains! You’re
always on about fountains,” said a fifth, “If we are to have a
proper centre piece we must try harder, and all agree!” Said the
first one.

“We need something of use to
everyone,” the third objected, “like a multi—storey stable.”

“Not everyone rides,” said the
second.

“It could have spaces for carts and
carriages,” The fifth put in.

“Think of the revenues!” the third
insisted, “Pay and display, charging by the hour! The Town Council
will love it — and aren’t they the ones we answer to?”

“We are the rightful arbiters of
taste and efficient design!” said the fourth, “They can sort the
revenues out afterwards! I am king today!”

“Oh no you’re not,” sad the fifth
one, trying to pull the fourth one off the throne, “It’s my turn
and has been for ages!”

“We still haven’t decided where to
put all the new houses,” the third protested.

“We mustn’t use green spaces – we
must reuse the land already built on first,” the first said.

“But the green spaces are where
people actually want to live!” the second objected.

“What about the Nimbys?” the third
said, “They have powerful magic and can certainly put a stop to
housing development with a simple wave of their wands!”

“My magic is stronger,” said the
fifth one, who had finally succeeded in pulling the fourth one off
of the throne and was sitting on it himself. He stuck out his hand
as if he was waving a wand, “I have a large invisibility cloak
which will hide the real purpose of any plans until it is too late
to file objections!”

“You are interfering with local
democracy!” the first objected.

“I am!” the fifth confirmed,
gleefully.

“Good!” said the third, “We should
decide what happens, and people will just get what they get, like
it or lump it!”

“Ahem,” said Roland, “Gentlemen,
dinner is served!”

The trio moved forwards with their
dishes, offering the
inspiring
feast to the surveyors.

“Would you like some of this?”
asked Savitri, “It’s very delicious…”

“Have some of this,” Oliver offered
another, “It’s wonderful! Fresh in today!

“This looks good,” said Roland,
offering some to the fourth surveyor, who had by this time regained
the throne, to the protests of the fifth one.

“Well, I must say,” the first
surveyor commented, “the serving staff are far more helpful and
civil than usual. Normally you can’t get a word out of them! They
must have been taking customer service training!”

“It seems you
can
get the
staff, if you try!” the third commented.

Roland knew that the serving staff
were supposed to be silent when serving a meal but this wasn’t the
time to behave correctly. As he had noted, they needed to make sure
that all the land surveyors, everyone of them, ate the inspiration
and that they were fully inspired.

It was not long before the effects
began to tell…

The third surveyor leapt onto the
table and started building his stable with imaginary bricks, “I am
going to build the biggest multi—storey stable in the entire world
– right here! Look! I am building it now!”

Then he impersonated a horse,
whinnying and trotting to show how the horses would go up ramps to
the different levels.

“I am going to build the biggest
sculpture park ever,” said the second, showing how it would be laid
out by sprinting around the room and waving his arms a lot, “It
will the centrepiece of the entire universe!”

“My fountain!” said the fountain
enthusiast, “will reach the stars – you will be able to travel to
the moon on it!”

“I think he knows something,”
Oliver said.

“And he’s having a
whale
of
a time!” Roland laughed.

“Nice one!” said Oliver

“I am building the biggest housing
estate in planning history,” said the first one, getting started
with a make-believe hod full of fantasy bricks “– a housing estate
consisting of palaces for everyone on a brownfield site that’s
never, ever been developed in a city centre that’s right out in the
country and has never been touched by a developer’s grubby
hand!”

“And I am building a special prison
just for Nimbys!” Said the fifth, with an evil gleam in his eye, “A
huge one! We will lock them all away forever and do whatever we
want, so there!”

“Job done, I think,” said Roland,
“All land surveyors thoroughly inspired!”

Oh my goodness!” Said Oliver,
shaking his head, “The fools! Is that what we were like when we
were inspired?”

“I don’t want to think about it,”
said Roland, “Let’s press on – we have work to do!”

The trio left the land surveyors to
their inspired fantasies.

It was now time to act and act
quickly, before the inspiration wore off. They gathered the staff
from the kitchen and hurried them up into the tower. Then it was
time to put the main plan into operation. In the main hall of the
Knights Fortressers the fifty sun warriors were ready, together
with a company of archers from the village. Roland stood before
them and spoke, “I cannot lie to you. The odds against us are poor,
but if we do not fight we will have to live in slavery under the
Spirus – or run from them. I ask you now: do we fight?”

“Yes!” said Oliver.

“Yes!” said Savitri.

One by one the villagers answered:
“Yes! Yes!
Yes
!…” until they all started to chant “Yes!” at
the top of their voices so that it resounded to the very top of the
invisible tower and beyond, and the very stones rang with it.

“Very well then,” Roland said. He
took his place at the head of his army with Oliver and Savitri by
his side. Together they led the way through the widened corridors
to the new lifts, descending in them to the top of the hill of the
Scary Oak. At the bottom the doors opened to reveal a group of
knights already mounted and ready for battle. Oliver and Savitri
recognised them immediately — it was Count Og-dra-gob and his
tourneyers!

Behind them was Lumenfarge, tall
and burning brilliantly, even in bright sunshine.

The count rode across to meet
them.

“Thank you for coming,” Roland
said

“Thank you for inviting us!” said
Og-dra-gob, “There are far too few battles these days to pass up
the invitation to a skirmish! Besides, how could I resist a summons
delivered by such a splendid messenger?!”

“Great! Are you ready?” Roland
asked.

“For battle? Always!” Roared
Og-dra-gob, and brandished his sword.

The trio rode over to Lumenfarge
and Roland asked him, “Have you got the other thing we spoke
of?

“Yes,” Lumenfarge replied.

“Good.”

Lumenfarge opened his side and the
three entered.

“An Ogleforth boat!” Oliver
exclaimed in surprise, looking at the vessel.

“And yee-hove-hees!” said Savitri.
They look like the same ones that helped us win on the moon.”

“They are,” said Roland, “I asked
for them specially – and the same boat.”

“But why?” Oliver asked, “I mean
why an Ogleforth boat?”

“I have an idea – it is just an
idea, but bear with me and we shall put it to the test.”

They boarded it and Roland ordered,
“Yee-hove-hee!” and the yee-hove-hees propelled them through the
opening in Lumenfarge out onto the hilltop.

“It seems strange to be aboard one
down here,” said Oliver.

“We seem to be moving a lot more
slowly than on the moon,” said Savitri.

“We are. It must be gravity,” said
Roland, “We are heavier down here — we will have to get used to it
and practice a bit. I just hope that the yee-hove-hees are up to
it.” He turned back to the Sentinel, “Lumenfarge, I take it then
that the mistress of the lighthouse agreed to my offer?”

“Yes, indeed. You must all return
to the moon regularly to compete in the Ogleforth matches, at least
twice a season and on special cup days.”

“It won’t be much of a burden,”
said Roland.

“Sounds like fun,” said Oliver.

“I think I can make time in my
schedule” said Savitri.

“Good. Thank you,” said Roland, “ I
thought I could count on you both, although it was naughty to
commit you without asking…”

“We’ll overlook it on this
occasion,” said Oliver, with a wink.

“On this
one
occasion,” said
Savitri, with a smile.

Lumenfarge told them, “I will
gladly take you to the moon and bring you back when you need to go.
Just call. There is one other thing; I would like very much to help
in the battle, but if I do it will bring the wrath of the Great
Council upon all of us. They limited you to those fifty warriors
and that was what they meant. I would make fifty one. That was not
what they meant.”

“When they mean something they
really mean it, eh” said Oliver.

“Yes,” confirmed Lumenfarge,
dolefully.

“You have done quite enough for us
already,” said Roland, “Do not bring your masters’ anger down on
yourself.”

“I had better leave now,” said
Lumenfarge, “before they consider me “involved””

With that he departed as a blazing
streak upwards into the sky.

The trio took the Ogleforth boat
for a few turns around the top of the hill practising and trying it
out in the stronger gravity. It was slower, but it became clear
that the yee-hove-hees were strong enough to cope with it.