Jurassic Carp

by Mo O'Hara

  We climbed down and followed a trail of green slime that was dripping from the side of the castle walls, pulling bits off for Frankie to chew on. Zombie goldfish only eat green food, the mouldier and slimier the better, but Frankie also has a thing for green sweets. We were so busy collecting slime that we didn’t even notice that we had walked up to the Night Knight until we were standing right next to him.

  ‘Er, hello, Sir Night Knight,’ I said in surprise. Frankie’s eyes flashed green, so I quickly pushed him into the flagon and covered the top with my hand.

  The Night Knight didn’t even look at us.

  ‘Um, could we just get to that bit of green wall behind you please?’ Pradeep added as we tried to squeeze past. ‘We’re collecting slime for . . . er, a project . . .’

  Just as we started scraping off some really gooey bits, The Knight-Mare walked up and tapped the Night Knight on the shoulder.

  The black knight didn’t move.

  ‘Um . . .’ began the Knight-Mare. ‘Sir Night Knight . . . I just wanted to say that I admired your shooting out there. Excellent aim. You deserved to win.’

  The Night Knight just stood there – his helmet visor covering his face. Then he shoved past the Knight-Mare and marched away.

  The Knight-Mare’s shoulders slumped and a little sigh came out of his visor. ‘Oh . . . OK,’ he mumbled.

  Pradeep looked at me, then said, ‘Excuse me, Sir Knight-Mare, your shooting was brilliant. In any other contest – you would totally have won.’

  ‘And you definitely have the coolest name,’ I added.

  ‘Oh, thanks.’ The knight lifted up his visor, and we could see that he wasn’t a big scary bearded man like I’d imagined. He looked really young actually. Like a teenager.

  ‘It’s my first tournament,’ he admitted. ‘I was a squire until last week in medieval club. I thought the name would make me sound, you know, tough. More tough than my real name,’ he added.

  ‘What is your real name?’ Pradeep asked.

  ‘Sebastian,’ the knight mumbled. ‘Not exactly a name that strikes terror into the heart of your opponents, is it?’

  ‘It probably depends how you say it,’ I said. ‘Sebaaaaastiiiiaaan!’ I tried. ‘SEB – AS – TI – AN.’ I shook my head. ‘Nope, you’re right. It just doesn’t work.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter anyway,’ said Sebastian sadly. ‘With the Night Knight on the scene there’s no way I’ll win.’

  ‘Do you think there’s something a little bit weird about the Night Knight?’ Pradeep asked Sebastian.

  ‘He’s not very friendly, that’s for sure,’ said Sebastian. ‘Right, I have to go and practise for the boulder lifting. It’s not my best event.’

  ‘What is?’ Pradeep asked.

  ‘The jousting.’ Sebastian smiled. ‘I have the best horse ever for the joust. Guinevere. That’s why I wanted to be a squire in the first place – to look after the horses. Then the people who ran medieval club found out I could shoot really well so they trained me up to be a knight.’ He pulled a paper bag from a pocket under his chest plate. ‘I got Guinevere some special sugar cubes in different colours as a treat. Look,’ he opened the bag. ‘Pink, yellow, orange, green . . .’

  As soon as Sebastian said ‘green’, Frankie shoved my hand away from the top of the flagon and burst out, landing on Sebastian’s armoured gauntlet.

  ‘Arrrrgggggghhhhh!’ the Knight-Mare screamed, dropping the sugar cubes and Frankie to the ground.

  ‘Frankie!’ I shouted at him.

  ‘Please excuse our goldfish’s manners,’ Pradeep said, scooping up Frankie and popping him in the flagon again.

  ‘He just really, really likes green food,’ I added, scrambling around on the floor for the fallen cubes.

  ‘I can see that,’ Sebastian said. ‘He dropped a green sugar cube into the flagon after Frankie.’ A satisfied burp came from inside.

  ‘Did your fish . . . Oh, no. You’ll think I’m going crazy,’ Sebastian started.

  ‘Did he what?’ I asked.

  ‘Did he fire pebbles at one of the trumpets just before the archery tournament started?’ Sebastian asked.

  Pradeep and I looked embarrassed. ‘Oh. Yeah, that was him,’ I said.

  ‘Thank goodness!’ said Sebastian. ‘I thought the nerves had got to me and I was seeing things! He’s not bad.’

  Frankie popped his head out of the flagon and glared at Sebastian.

  ‘OK! He’s very good.’ Sebastian smiled. ‘I’ve never seen a pet fish do that before. Actually I’ve never seen a pet fish do anything before but swim in circles.’

  ‘Frankie’s kind of special,’ I said.

  Just then I heard Mrs Richards behind us. ‘Boys!’ she called. ‘You are going to be late for bread making. It’s about to start!’

  ‘We’ve got to go,’ I said, popping the cork back into Frankie’s flagon.

  ‘See you at the next event, Sebastian,’ Pradeep said. ‘I mean, Sir Knight-Mare!’

  Sebastian waved us off and headed towards the stables.

  I shot Pradeep a look that said, ‘Whatever is going on with the Night Knight must have something to do with Mark and Sanj. We can’t waste our time making bread when there is investigating to do!’

  ‘Wait until we get to the kitchens,’ Pradeep’s look replied. ‘I think I have a plan.’

  ‘Eacheth morsel of bread on the table of the King once started as a grain of wheat crush-ed herein,’ Motley Fool explained.

  ‘You said you might have a plan?’ I whispered to Pradeep as we sat at a work bench, pounding at some wheat with some grinding stones.

  ‘While everyone is busy, we get Frankie to hypnotize Motley Fool so he won’t notice if we slip away,’ Pradeep whispered back. ‘No one will notice a couple of peasants running errands around the castle. We’re already wearing the perfect disguise!’

  We waited until Mrs Richards had stepped out to take some kids to the castle loos.

  ‘Now’s our chance!’ Pradeep said.

  I opened the flagon. ‘Are you ready, Frankie?’

  He nodded.

  I hung the flagon from a beam that was directly in Motley Fool’s eyeline. Frankie peeked out and his eyes started to swirl in glowing, zombie green circles. The fool started talking more and more slowly. ‘The process of swishy fishy kneading the swishy fishy dough into loaves swishy fishy is a long and . . .’

  ‘It’s working,’ Pradeep whispered. ‘Now make him fall asleep, Frankie.’

  Everyone else was busy kneading their bread dough, so not many kids even noticed when Motley Fool started napping instead of speaking.

  Pradeep and I got up, unhooked Frankie’s flagon and tiptoed out of the kitchen. Just as we stepped out of the door we saw a familiar little kitten disappear around the corner of the corridor ahead. Frankie thrashed in his flagon.

  ‘Fang!’ Pradeep and I said at the same time.

  ‘I should have known that Mark’s evil vampire kitten would be involved,’ I said. ‘This definitely means Mark and Sanj are up to something evil.’

  ‘Maybe she’ll lead us to their secret medieval lair?’ Pradeep said.

  As we followed Fang around the corner, we could hear Mrs Richards’s voice coming from the top of the staircase ahead. ‘The historically accurate privies are part of the castle exhibition. You may look at them but DO NOT USE THEM!’ she boomed. ‘No. Use the modern toilets in the block next door like everyone else. Hurry up. Have you washed your hands? Well go back and wash them. We are using these hands to make bread, aren’t we? WASH THEM. NOW.’

  ‘Ohhh, a kitten!’ a girl’s voice squealed.

  Fang must have run past her and into the toilets!

  ‘In medieval times, cats were kept not as pets, but as pest-control, to keep the mice in the castle at bay,’ Mrs Richards said. ‘They have really thought of everything.’

  We skidded to a halt at the top of the stairs.

  ‘Now everyone’s hands are clean, let’s go back down to the kitchens,
’ said the teacher.

  ‘She’ll see us,’ I said, looking around for a hiding place. ‘Quick . . . let’s hide on that ledge.’

  I put down Frankie’s flagon and pushed open an old metal and glass window that pivoted around a bar in the middle. I squeezed out first and then Pradeep scrambled out on to the first-floor ledge after me. We shuffled along so that we were standing on either side of the window out of sight.

  Pradeep looked down, then over at me with wide eyes. ‘We are balanced on a ledge outside a castle over a moat, hiding from a teacher and chasing an evil kitten,’ he whispered. ‘This is exactly the kind of thing I didn’t want to be doing today.’

  We heard footsteps as Mrs Richards and the kids walked past.

  ‘Miss,’ said a girl’s voice. ‘Someone’s left their drink behind.’

  I looked at Pradeep with a look that said, ‘She doesn’t mean Frankie’s flagon, does she? You picked that up, right?’

  Pradeep shook his head.

  ‘It must belong to someone at the castle,’ said Mrs Richards. ‘Hang it up there in the historical privies and someone will find it.’

  We waited for their footsteps to fade away and had just started shuffling back towards the window when we saw two small furry paws pushing the window closed and heard the sound of a latch snapping into place.

  ‘Nooooo!’ we both cried.

  ‘I can’t believe that evil kitten just locked us outside!’ I huffed. Suddenly we heard the sound of Fang screeching and the thwacking of fins against stone.

  ‘I think Fang and Frankie have found each other!’ said Pradeep. ‘We’ve got to get in there!’

  ‘Look, there’s another open window over there.’ I pointed along the ledge.

  Carefully we shuffled along until we reached the opening. Pradeep sniffed the air. ‘Pine-scented bleach . . . this must be the toilet window!’

  Inside we could still hear the sounds of miaows and fins flapping.

  ‘Frankie’s been out of his flagon for ages now!’ I said. ‘He must need water. Why doesn’t he just jump into one of the toilets?’

  Pradeep had one of those moments where you could tell he was going through all the files in his head, flipping past all the unlikely explanations until he came to the only reasonable answer. He does this a lot faster than me because I tend to get distracted by things that probably wouldn’t ever happen but would be funny if they did.

  His face switched to his ‘Got it!’ look. ‘Because these are drop toilets,’ he replied. ‘They must be the historically accurate ones that Mrs Richards was talking about. No running water, just a drop to the moat below.’

  We scrambled in through the window. Frankie and Fang were locked in combat. Frankie was looking tired, while Fang seemed ready for another pounce. I quickly grabbed the flagon from where it had been left and flung it at Fang. It only startled her for a second, but that was all Frankie needed.

  ‘Head for the toilet!’ Pradeep shouted to Frankie. ‘We’ll find you in the moat later!’

  Frankie looked over at us.

  ‘Go, Frankie,’ I shouted.

  Frankie heaved himself over the edge of the stone toilet and tumbled down through the hole. Fang sprang after him, but when she realized there was nothing but a drop to the moat below she soon changed her mind.

  There was a splash as Frankie hit the water and disappeared underneath.

  Fang spat angrily from her perch on the top of the stone toilet. ‘Hiiiiiiiissssssss!’

  ‘What on earth is this racket?’ Mrs Richard’s voice boomed around the historically accurate privies.

  Fang jumped in terror and shot straight past the teacher and down the stairs, screeching as she ran.

  ‘Just what are you two doing?’ Mrs Richards tutted at us. ‘Even though Motley Fool fell asleep, that’s no excuse to go roaming the halls.’

  ‘We were . . . ummm . . .’ Pradeep started.

  ‘We were rescuing the cat,’ I lied with my fingers crossed behind my back. ‘We heard miaowing and . . . er . . .’

  ‘Came in here to find the cat in distress,’ Pradeep continued. Which was technically true.

  ‘And then she nearly fell through the toilet hole but didn’t,’ I added. Which was also true.

  ‘Oh, really?’ Mrs Richards looked at us as if she was trying to decide if we were telling the truth. ‘I suppose that is very chivalrous of you.’

  ‘Huh?’ I said.

  ‘Chivalry is one of the principles of knighthood,’ Pradeep said. ‘It means gallant and well-mannered.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess we were being that,’ I said, crossing my fingers again.

  ‘Right, well, it’s lunchtime now,’ said the teacher, ‘so come with me to the great hall. Motley Fool has already taken the rest of the class in.’

  ‘Umm, I think I dropped something down the historically accurate toilet while we were . . . um . . . saving the cat,’ I said.

  ‘If you dropped something in the moat then it’s gone, sorry.’ Mrs Roberts had a stern look on her face. I knew I couldn’t push it. Frankie would have to wait.

  I picked up the flagon from the floor where I had thrown it very unchivalrously at Fang, and followed Mrs Richards down the stairs and through the castle.

  Inside the great hall, all the peasants were already sitting down at simple tables along the walls. The merchants, soldiers and traders were sitting in comfy chairs at long tables in the middle of the room, and the Lords and Ladies and special guests were all at the top tables on a raised platform at the front.

  The trumpeters started playing again and everyone stood up as the four competing knights took their places at the centre of the top table. All of the knights removed their helmets as they sat down, except for the Night Knight.

  I could see Motley Fool trying to talk to him, but the Night Knight was totally blanking him. Pradeep nudged me and pointed at Sanj who was once again fiddling with his wand.

  Motley Fool tried again. This time the Night Knight shook his head, and Motley Fool bowed and waved away the plate of bread and soup that a servant was about to put down.

  The other knights were already tucking in, and baskets of bread and platters of fruit and meat were being placed on their tables as well.

  I looked at the slop in the wooden bowl in front of me. ‘Frankie would love this,’ I said, stirring my green gruel. ‘I hope he’s OK.’

  ‘Just because we haven’t been able to go and look for Frankie doesn’t mean he won’t be able to find us,’ Pradeep said. ‘I’m sure he’ll find a way.’

  I looked over at the top tables to see the goblets being filled by people pretending to be servants. Sebastian held out his cup.

  As a servant poured his water, I could have sworn I saw a fleck of orange tumble out of the jug and into the Knight-Mare’s goblet.

  ‘I think I just saw Frankie,’ I whispered to Pradeep.

  Sebastian quickly put his hand over the cup and looked around, searching the crowd until he spotted Pradeep and me. His look said, quite clearly, ‘Excuse me but I believe your fish is in my goblet?’

  We gave him the thumbs-up and my look said, ‘Hang on, we’ll come and get him.’

  At that moment Motley Fool raised his glass and motioned for everyone else to do the same.

  ‘A toast,’ he said. ‘To all the noble Ladies and Gentlemen who hast provided us this feast.’

  The Knight of the Crown, the Knight of the Rose and Sebastian all raised their glasses. The Night Knight didn’t move.

  ‘Will you not toast our hosts, noble sir?’ Motley Fool asked him, but again, the Night Knight was still.

  ‘That’s a huge insult,’ Pradeep whispered. ‘And really unchivalrous too. No real knight would do that.’

  ‘They are all pretend knights, Pradeep,’ I said. ‘Sebastian is a horse trainer at a medieval club, the Crown guy is probably a dentist, and the Rose guy probably works in a garden centre. This is all pretend.’

  ‘Chivalry is real,’ Pradeep muttered.

&nb
sp; Just then Mark grabbed Sanj’s wand and the Night Knight jerked his goblet upwards.

  Motley Fool smiled. ‘To our noble hosts!’

  Everyone repeated what he’d said, then sipped their drinks. Well, everyone but the Night Knight, who lifted his goblet up to his visor and then poured the contents all down his front. Sanj grabbed the wand back off Mark and they started bickering in whispers.

  For a second I thought I saw a spark and a twitch from the Night Knight, before a servant dabbed at the spill with a cloth.

  ‘That was strange,’ I whispered to Pradeep.

  ‘Strange and suspicious,’ he said.

  ‘Strange suspicious and mostly evil,’ I added. ‘We’ve got to get a closer look at the Night Knight.’

  ‘And that magic wand,’ Pradeep said.

  ‘We’ve got a bigger problem right now though,’ I said, looking at Sebastian, who looked exactly like he had a mouthful of unhappy goldfish!

  Pradeep smiled. ‘Of course! The toast. It would have been unchivalrous not to drink, even if you have a zombie goldfish in your cup. That’s the sign of a true knight.’

  ‘I think that true knight needs our help,’ I said. ‘Come on!’

  We raced up to the top table and held Pradeep’s hat in front of Sebastian’s face just as he ‘belched’ the water and fish into the hat.

  I quickly covered the contents with my cloak.

  ‘Thank you, young peasant.’ Sebastian gave us a relieved look. ‘I suddenly felt very unwell.’

  Then he whispered, ‘I didn’t think when I sipped from the cup the fish would jump into my mouth!’

  ‘No worries . . . um . . . I mean . . . it is our duty to help you, Sir Knight . . . Person.’ I bowed and then whispered, ‘Sorry, he does that. I think he just wanted to get back to us.’

  Pradeep added, ‘Thanks for not giving Frankie away. Good luck with the boulder lift!’