The Queen and the Nobody Boy

by Barbara Else

  After another sip of coffee, Ogg’ward stood, picked up a red hold-all from the chair beside him and slung it over his shoulder. He tugged the beanie down to his eyebrows and tried to tiptoe to the door. He wore huge boots, not at all good for tiptoes, but Hodie saw that the other rebels didn’t notice him clomp out. They were too busy laughing, and one of them was doodling on a paper napkin.

  “Soon we can retire from being rebels, by ransom of slipper!”

  “Yes, covered in emeralds and fluff from chin of mountain dove. Worth many thousand of dolleros. We can buy weapon for overpowering very bad Emper … (cough-cough) … you-know-who. Or, yes, we could give up being rebels – run to Fontania and live as lazy as their royal family.” The rebel seemed to think it a great joke.

  Murgott put an arm round Sibilla’s shoulders. It looked as if she was crying silent tears into her hot chocolate – by now it would be cold and salty chocolate.

  The duffel bag on the back of Murgott’s chair showed the bulge of the probably matching slipper he had picked up back at the Depot. Perhaps he too planned to sell it to retire on thousands of dolleros.

  Someone opened the door. A thread of wind stole in and under the rebel’s table napkin, and it fluttered to the floor. The three men hunched over and muttered again. They hadn’t noticed the fallen napkin, but the squirrel had – it scuttled over and punctured it in its sharp claws.

  “Boy, let’s have a squizz at that scribble,” Murgott murmured. “Never know, it could be useful.”

  Hodie eased the napkin from the squirrel’s grubby paws and passed it over. Sibilla tried to see too, but Murgott squinted at the napkin close to his nose. He let out a trembly sigh. Sibilla tugged his arm down, and Hodie had a good view.

  The rebel had sketched Lu’nedda’s slipper – flat heel, pointy turned-up toe, a jewelled butterfly ornament with bird fluff for wings. He had drawn it lying on top of Ogg’ward’s hold-all.

  “I know you picked up Lu’nedda’s other slipper at the Depot, Murgott,” Sibilla said in an undertone. “You think I didn’t notice.”

  The edges of Murgott’s ears flared purple-red. The napkin crumpled in his fist. Sibilla took it and tried to uncrumple it. Hodie had another glance. Definitely, Lu’nedda’s slipper – the emerald pair.

  The door banged open. A tall Um’Binnian officer stood there, a pistol in his holster. “Attention! Important news!” he announced. “Telegraph is fixed!”

  Everybody stopped mid-sip, mid-bite, mid-grumble. Hodie felt as if something knocked into his chest. He should have paid more attention – he had noticed the wind had dropped, but he hadn’t thought about the telegraph.

  “War with Fontania!” the officer shouted. “Hoo-rah for Emperor Prowdd’on! Give me big Hoo! Give me big Rah! War is declared!”

  “Hoo-rah!” cried half the crowd in a scattery way. “Hoo-hoo. Rah!”

  Sibilla was still holding the napkin flat and staring at the officer. Hodie glanced at the sketch again – the pencil lines had blurred and were beginning to show something inside the hold-all the rebel had drawn. Then Sibilla screwed the napkin up and popped it in her empty chocolate mug.

  “Stop …” Hodie grabbed the napkin out. It was soggy with dregs. Bits stuck to his fingers. Sibilla stared at him as if he’d gone mad. So did Murgott.

  Hodie thought he had definitely gone mad. For a moment he’d thought he’d seen, stuffed into the red hold-all in the sketch, a bag like the one stolen from his lean-to. He must have imagined it. Anyway, now the napkin was shredded and torn.

  The squirrel leaped onto Hodie’s lap. Wind pounded the roof.

  “I’ll distract the officer,” Hodie muttered to Sibilla. “Get behind Murgott. I’m off on my own.” Then he stood up so fast the squirrel screeched. “Thanks for the chocolate, Corporal.”

  “Oi!” said Murgott.

  “Boy!” shouted the officer. “Come here and take your cap off!”

  Hodie kept his hands on his cap, ran for the door, ducked under the officer’s arm and darted out into the wind.

  He had a last glimpse of Sibilla and Murgott, and the scrawny lady with the suntan jumping up in front of them.

  ~

  16

  not plenty of choice

  outside either

  The gale slapped Hodie from every direction, and he pressed himself against the station wall to get his bearings. The officer ran out after him, but didn’t see him and kept running down to search the platform. The wind bowled the man into a nook behind some machinery.

  Wind-trains and wind-cars bucked and jerked in their tethers. A small, sleek wind-car was still being lashed down by soldiers. It bore the sunburst sign of Emperor Prowdd’on. Muzzles of guns poked out its sides. Another military wind-car buffeted into the station and landed behind it.

  Now how could Hodie get away?

  There was Ogg’ward in his beanie on a side platform. Hodie took a step in that direction and the gale nearly made him fall over. He had to go down on one knee, and closed his eyes. Again, he saw the picture on the napkin changing under the Queen’s fingers. No – he was so tired his mind had played tricks. Ogg’ward had nothing to do with his mother’s stuff. All Hodie wanted was a way south out of the Stones. The little Queen had Murgott – two people had more chance of hiding than three. And Hodie deserved the chance of a good life.

  He pulled his collar up, held his cap on with one hand and, with the other, held tight to a rope barrier. But he couldn’t stop himself from taking one last look back at the canteen door.

  The door flung open again, shouts sounded inside and the rebels came tumbling out. They hauled themselves along the ropes, bullied past Hodie and reached Ogg’ward.

  All of them seemed to be gesturing to the military wind-cars. One of them pointed to a small battered wind-car, urging them all to pile in and get away (Hodie could tell from the way the rebel’s arms waved). Ogg’ward slipped the red hold-all from his shoulder and opened it to let them peer in. The gale snatched at the hold-all. Ogg’ward kept it tight in his fist, but the wind scooped out a newspaper, a glittering green slipper and half a pie. The slipper flew towards Hodie. His hand went out automatically. He gripped the slipper – help, the jewels made it heavy! The four rebels turned, but the wind swallowed whatever they shouted.

  “Hey!” a voice yelled behind him. “That boy!” Hodie glanced round. It was the Um’Binnian officer, fighting towards him. “Boy, take your hat off!”

  Hodie flung his cap into the wind and it scudded away.

  Behind the officer, a man and a fat lady in a big blue coat tottered out of the canteen. It was Murgott – but who was he with? Where was the Queen? The storm howled and scattered grit. The officer had to put both hands over his eyes.

  Staggering on the spot, Hodie still held the slipper. Ogg’ward shouted and beckoned to him. The wind strengthened every moment – it tugged a piece of roofing and hurled it away like a broken bird. The fat lady was holding her long coat over her belly, and Murgott steadied her.

  “Clear platform!” roared a voice through a loudspeaker. “Force Ten gale! Take cover! Risk of severe damage! Everyone inside very fast! That means army too! I am in charge here!”

  Hodie would have said the wind was actually in charge. But his insides clenched. Where was she – where was Sibilla?

  “Clear platform!” roared the loudspeaker. “Clear platform! Even those rebels!”

  The three rebels from the canteen began running for the small, battered wind-bus. Soldiers struggled after them in the gale. Lights along the station began to pop and go out. Another piece of roof tugged free and soared away.

  Ogg’ward avoided the soldiers and came right at Hodie. Hodie expected him to grab the slipper, but it was his arm that Ogg’ward was after. He yanked Hodie over to a smaller, even more battered wind-bus.

  “Inside!” Ogg’ward ordered. “Keep head down!” H
e thrust Hodie in, and hauled himself towards the tethers at the front of the wind-bus. Through the window Hodie saw the man’s hands in thick black fingerless mittens loosening the hooks.

  Hodie fell into a seat, still with the slipper. He was getting away! At last! He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

  The wind swirled in through the door. But the Queen, he thought, there’s room for her and Murgott too!

  He took in a huge fresh breath, then scrambled to the back window and waved the slipper to catch Murgott’s eye. “Where is she?” he shouted. “Over here! Quick!”

  Murgott waved back. He gave the fat lady a kiss on the cheek, the fat lady flung open her coat, and Hodie saw it was actually the scrawny lady. The fatness had been Sibilla (still with her cap on) in excellent hiding.

  The loudspeaker was going crazy. Guards and more Um’Binnian soldiers began pouring out of the canteen. Hodie heard Murgott’s voice, and Sibilla tumbled into the wind-bus, flat onto the floor.

  “Stay out of sight!” Murgott yelled. He stayed in the open doorway, hanging on.

  The wind-bus bucked. Any second it would jerk up into the gale. There was no need for pulleys here – the wild wind of the Stones would do the job.

  Ogg’ward barrelled into the wind-bus, and shoved Murgott back onto the platform. The wind-bus rose into the air, its door still open. Ogg’ward grabbed the slipper from Hodie and slung the red hold-all under the driver’s seat, slipper on top, then he flung himself at the controls.

  “Murgott?” Sibilla clambered up into a seat. “Where’s Murgott!”

  The wings of the wind-bus gripped the storm. The Um’Binnian officer drew his pistol and fired, fired again –

  But the wind-bus was high in the night, a glow from the engine, a glimmer of moonlight and stars. The few lights of Shattered Rock were no more than a glittering patch in the canyon below.

  “Murgott!” screamed Sibilla. “We’ve lost Murgott!’”

  There was a yell right underneath. Murgott’s hairy hand appeared over the step. Sibilla sprawled on the floor again and grabbed his wrist. Hodie sprawled too and grabbed Murgott’s sleeve. With struggling and various curses, Murgott squirmed into the wind-bus. The ugly squirrel was clamped to his left leg.

  ~

  Ogg’ward kept hold of the controls, let out curses of his own and clapped a hand to his moustache. How awful if the chief rebel got air-sick. Hodie shuffled away a safe distance.

  Murgott lay on a bench seat, eyes closed, mopping his forehead and neck. The wind had scuffed up the little squirrel so that its fur looked stuck on back to front. It sent a disgusted look at Hodie, then leapt into the luggage rack. Hodie actually did feel a bit ashamed that he’d been thinking he might run off, but he had saved Sibilla in the end. He scowled at the squirrel.

  Sibilla ducked down behind a seat, took her cap off and combed her fingers through her hair. She crammed the cap on again and mouthed something to Hodie – Did Ogg’ward notice? Hodie didn’t think so. She sat up properly again.

  The wind-bus flew on over the darkness of the Stones.

  Nobody ever wanted Hodie’s opinion, but still, the chief rebel had helped out.

  “Er … thank you,” he called to Ogg’ward.

  “What for?” the rebel growled.

  “Er … for saving us?” Hodie said.

  “Oh!” Sibilla sat up straighter. “Of course. Thank you.”

  Hodie knotted his eyebrows. “Disguise,” he muttered.

  She did her little-boy buck-teeth at once. “I was scared as any-fink, mister! Fank you a lot!”

  Ogg’ward locked a lever into place, then jerked his head at Hodie. “Him, I save. You other two were big mistake.” His voice was muffled by that moustache and the creaking of the wind-sails. He peered into the darkness behind the wind-bus. “We are low on fuel for such heavy passengers. Wind carries us up, but once we get to edge of the Stones we need Toad Oil to stay up. Also need engine to land without crashing.” His eyes glittered beneath the black beanie. “Tell me if we are followed. It is very important I am not followed.”

  He wiped sweat from the back of his neck. One hand worked on the levers while he held the other to his moustache again. Air-sick for sure.

  Hodie eased over to whisper to Murgott. “Where’s he taking us?”

  “If I knew that,” Murgott rumbled, “I’d have an answer.”

  “Just ask him,” said Sibilla.

  “Wait,” Murgott muttered. “I’m not in uniform.”

  “So?” Sibilla asked.

  “Listen, if Um’Binnia realises who I am, I could be shot for spying.” Murgott shone with sweat again. “Even though I’m not a spy.”

  “I thought things couldn’t get worse,” Sibilla breathed.

  “My rule is never say that,” Murgott said. “It’s tempting fate.”

  “Surely we’re sort-of safe,” said Hodie. “Ogg’ward’s a rebel.”

  Murgott grumbled. “We’re safe from the rebels, maybe. But who’s after them?”

  A bright light flared behind the wind-car. Ogg’ward glanced back. “Military wind-car! Keep heads down!”

  “That’s my point,” Murgott growled.

  The wind-bus soared up with a scream from the sail struts. An arm’s-length on either side, in a glimmer of starlight, Hodie saw the rocks of a narrow canyon. A swerve, another swoop, and they coasted just above the tops of the Stones. He had no idea in which direction they were flying, but the lights of the military wind-car were left far behind.

  The wings of the wind-bus creaked with effort. There were squeaks as well, very worrying till Hodie realised the squirrel was snoring.

  At last Sibilla spoke in her little-boy voice. “Excuse me… Mr Ogg’ward, I don’t understand. You’re a webel, yes? Why did you save Hodie? Why didn’t you save the uvver webels?”

  Ogg’ward’s teeth showed underneath that thick moustache. “Any answer is too difficult for tiny-boy mind.” He bent down and shoved Lu’nedda’s slipper into his hold-all.

  Sibilla’s face was furious, scared and frustrated. Hodie tried to laugh like an older brother would. She scowled at him.

  “Don’t argue, boys,” said Murgott. “Uncle says.”

  “That is right. Or I drop little one in Great Salt Moat,” snarled Ogg’ward.

  Sibilla was silent for a moment … “What’s the Great Salt Moat?”

  “Dumbo,” Hodie said (it was all right to be rude to a Queen if she was pretending to be your little brother). “It’s the sea around the Mountain of Um’Binnia. That’s what Um’Binnia is – a mountain. The Um’Binnian capital city is there.”

  “On the mountain?” Sibilla asked.

  “Actually,” he began, then realised – Ogg’ward must be flying to Um’Binnia. It felt as if his heart and stomach plunged together into the canyon.

  Murgott sat up. “All right, man! Where are you heading? Where’s your secret hide-out?”

  “My secret hide-out?” Ogg’ward laughed. “Yes, I have secret. But I do not exactly have hide-out.”

  No hide-out in Um’Binnia? Hodie wanted to lie under a seat and simply die.

  Ogg’ward was still talking. “We will be over Great Salt Moat when sun rises in forty-five minutes. Boys must shut up.” He gripped the controls. “One boy I want. Squitty little boy and uncle, I do not wish for! I must concentrate on old-model wind-bus. If we are not on target first time, we have to ditch into dangerous sea.”

  “No!” Murgott looked exactly like a terrified soldier in disguise. “Not into the Moat!”

  Ogg’ward nodded. “Just when Ocean Toads are seeking breakfast.”

  It was not reassuring for Hodie to see Murgott break out into a new sweat on top of all those old ones.

  ~

  In the blue glow from the engine, Murgott breathed heavily. His bristly eyebrows drew together.
He whispered to the little Queen and Hodie. “Boy, if you betray the little Queen I’ll make you eat your own head, garnished with parsley. Now, the pair of you, listen hard. An old pirate’s trick: step one, be nice till you’ve quelled suspicion. Step two: grab the helm yourself.”

  “Do you know how to fly a wind-bus?” Hodie whispered back.

  Murgott’s face was sickly grey. “No. But it’s got sails and I know sails. It’s the first step that is hardest – being nice.” He cleared his throat, gave Hodie his darkest look yet, and stumbled down the bus to sit near Ogg’ward.

  Sibilla grabbed Hodie’s sleeve. “What else do you know about Um’Binnia?”

  He felt so afraid and sick he lost his temper. “I couldn’t listen to all your lessons! I had to mend taps and fix hinges and sweep horse droppings!”

  “Keep your voice down,” she hissed.

  He couldn’t stop. “You were too lazy to learn things that a Queen needs to know. But you had plenty of time for your tantrums.”

  Her eyes brightened with anger. “Watch out or I’ll punch you!”

  “Shut up or I throw out two boys!” Ogg’ward yelled.

  “Don’t you lay a finger on the … er … squitty one!” shouted Murgott.

  “All shut up!” bellowed Ogg’ward. “Sit down now!”

  Murgott grumbled to himself. Hodie huddled in the back corner. His head ached with the noise of the wind, the creaking wings, the sputters from the oil-chamber.

  Sibilla looked furious and scared. If the Um’Binnians discovered who she was, she’d have no escape. Hodie felt sick again but in a different way. He should tell her about the way he thought the sketch had changed beneath her fingers. It had simply been a trick of his eyes, but it might make her feel more hopeful, and that might help her go on. If she believed him. If she would even listen to him now.

  He slid over anyway. “In the canteen …” Sibilla turned away, but he kept going – the possible small flash, the first hint that maybe she had come into her magical abilities after all. But his voice was wobbly and flat, the way it always was when he didn’t really believe in something. She’d gone all wooden – so she too didn’t think that magic could be real.