The Queen and the Nobody Boy

by Barbara Else

  “It’s what everyone expects.” He tried to be more convincing. “You know – that you’ll be like your brother, that you’ll have a special link with the dragon-eagles, that there is magic.” He actually felt a bit sick when he said this, because it it would be really wonderful if only it was true.

  She turned and stared at him, just for a moment. “I can’t stand it. Please, go away.”

  He’d tried at least. The sky had turned the same shade Hodie felt from lack of sleep, a sickly grey-yellow. Below, in the sour dawn, the craters and canyons of the Stones of Beyond were a greyish yellow too.

  “But why?” It exploded from Hodie and he jumped up from his seat. “Ogg’ward, I’m nobody. Why did you help me?”

  Ogg’ward gave a bitter chuckle. “Who is this nobody boy? Somebody’s son.”

  His father? Did Ogg’ward mean it was something to do with his father?

  Sibilla sat up and spoke without her little-boy lisp. “Dardy’s alive?”

  “Dardy? Ha, yes, alive in Um’Binnia.” Ogg’ward gave an odd laugh. “So is boy’s mother.”

  The words circled around Hodie’s head but didn’t go in.

  “Hodie said he didn’t have a mother,” Sibilla said.

  “His mother,” replied Ogg’ward in a gruff voice, “is best friend of Princessa Lu’nedda.”

  Hodie tried to say that must be nonsense, but all that came out was a failing squeak.

  “Now shut up again. All stay shut!” Ogg’ward cried. “I must concentrate completely or we ditch in Great Salt Moat!”

  ~

  17

  fat chance of any choice right now

  The wind-bus hurtled on. Hodie’s father was alive? It was difficult to learn this and know any minute he might drown in the Great Salt Moat. And he still had a mother! But … best friend of the Princessa? That would be why she hadn’t bothered about her baby son and sent him away. The best thing might be for Hodie to drown.

  The squirrel scrambled along the luggage rack and chittered like mad above Hodie’s head.

  “Hold on!” Ogg’ward cried.

  The sky grew lighter each moment. The wind-bus passed a line of cliffs, where wreckage littered a wild shore, then soared out over churning grey sea. Wind leapt from every direction. The wind-bus tossed and tilted. A huge gust knocked it down towards the waves. Ogg’ward yanked on the controls, and the engine fired with a grinding roar. The sails screamed. Hodie gripped a safety rail. Sibilla’s cap bounced and wriggled but at least stayed on her head.

  “Grab oil-can!” Ogg’ward yelled to Murgott. “Squeeze last drop of Toad Oil into hole under controls!” The Corporal staggered up. You could tell he was used to taking orders in windy conditions.

  In front of the wind-bus, a mountain, its head wreathed in mud-coloured clouds, reared from the waves. The wind-bus sped on, thrown this way and that. Hodie felt sicker every minute, sick in stomach, heart and soul. A few huge industrial pipes jutted into the sea. He saw no other sign of a city on the mountain, nor even a town. There was only cliff piled on cliff, on top of more cliffs scarred by gullies choked with rock falls. As they flew closer, he glimpsed small terraces and patches of golden waving stuff like corn. Tiny houses dotted valleys far below …

  The wind-bus swerved closer, closer to the mountainside. Hodie saw moss on the rocks, the puff of a rabbit’s tail vanishing into a burrow. The wind-bus hovered for a moment and the engine rose to a high pitch. Hodie waited to crash.

  Then a flock of birds spiralled past, riding the wind …

  I haven’t had enough of this world yet, Hodie thought. I want to see every last moment. I am going to face my death with my eyes open.

  He expected a smash, then utter darkness. He caught a last sight of cliff lilies, a trace of scent so sweet it was like somebody saying they loved you. A true mother’s voice might be as sweet … He wasn’t usually as soppy as this. It was probably because he was going to die.

  ~

  many shocks

  and many temptations

  18

  moustache

  Hodie gripped the seat in front of him so hard his hands cramped. Then, under the whine of the engine, he heard a deep groan that sounded like the rocks themselves – and actually, it was. The cliff in front of them moved open like a great door sliding – and actually (again) it was a door.

  The engine sputtered, and Ogg’ward eased a lever. Jerking to and fro, the wind-bus flew inside the mountain and landed in a parking space in an enormous cavern. With another groan, the stone door began to roll shut. There was a screel and a clank of machinery. The slab was stuck. A crack of morning sky showed down the side. In light from fittings on the cavern walls, figures in overalls milled about, dropping oil-cans and screwdrivers, scratching their heads (and sometimes armpits).

  Ogg’ward swore again in a high voice. It meant he hadn’t thought they’d make it, and quaked with relief. The squirrel said chit! and stayed in the luggage rack. Hodie stayed where he was too, so shaken he didn’t trust his legs. Sibilla looked pale as milk (but dirtier).

  Murgott struggled to his feet and peered through the back window. “No chance of getting out again that way, I’d bet my parrot.”

  “You haven’t got one,” Sibilla said in a thready voice.

  “Not any more. Green and yellow. Sat on my shoulder, dropped seeds in my ear. Got rid of it.” Murgott called to Ogg’ward. “What’s the best way out of here?”

  “Unimportant hanger-on, we must not draw attention.” Ogg’ward turned up his coat collar and tugged the beanie down to his eyebrows. “Be quiet and trust me.”

  In half a second Murgott had out his pocket-knife. “I’ll trust you at the end of this!”

  “You’ve opened the little pliers,” Hodie said. “Are you going to pluck his moustache?” He still felt wobbly, otherwise he would never have dared give Murgott cheek. Sibilla’s laugh sounded more like a frightened chirp.

  Murgott folded the pliers away. “You’re funny, boy,” he growled at Hodie. “But I don’t trust Ogg’ward. And I’m not sure I can trust you. I’ll be honest, boy, and admit there have been days when I’ve looked in a mirror and I wouldn’t even trust myself.”

  The cave entrance shut at last with an echoing bump, and ragged jubilation from the workers. A soldier hurried across. Sibilla put on her toothy-boy smile. Ogg’ward swore again under his breath. He rolled open the door of the wind-bus and popped out his head (mostly beanie).

  The soldier touched a finger to his cap in a sloppy salute. “Very good parking. Do you carry uncertified baggage? Please, hurry up.”

  Ogg’ward pressed a hand over his moustache and shook his head.

  The soldier peered into the wind-bus and under the seats. “No animal? No bird? No animal or bird allowed today. By order. Biggest order, by Emperor.” He peered up at the luggage rack. “What is that?”

  “A … beret for my muvver,” said Sibilla. “Made of cat fur.”

  “Looks more like dead squirrel,” the soldier said. “And let us hope mother suits grey. Ah, more thing – Princessa Lu’nedda has been kidnapped. Did you see strange behaviour over Stones of Beyond?”

  A gleam showed in Ogg’ward’s eyes. The moustache twitched. “Prowdd’on is terribly upset? There is reward?”

  “Prowdd’on upset! Ha, not at all. Very good joke. There is no reward, either.” The soldier turned on his heel.

  Ogg’ward’s chin trembled.

  The soldier swung back. “Ah – extra thing again. Smallish bag went missing with Princessa Lu’nedda. Emperor is furious. Big reward for finding that.”

  A buzzer sounded. The soldier touched a finger to his cap and sprinted off to join some of the Um’Binnians looking extremely busy at the cavern entrance. A few others were clearing a space in the centre of the garage.

  Ogg’ward muttered dark things and pressed two fi
sts to his huge moustache.

  Sibilla looked worried for him. “Cheer up,” she said. “You don’t have the Princessa, but you have her expensive slipper …”

  Hodie kicked her ankle to make her shut up.

  She scowled and made her lower lip tremble. “Big bruvvers ought not kick uvver bruvvers.”

  “He knows you’re not my brother,” muttered Hodie.

  Ogg’ward hadn’t taken any notice, which was lucky. The rebel leader was peeling off his fingerless mittens. He shoved them in his pocket and clenched his hands into big fists – not hairy like Murgott’s, but most men’s weren’t. “I am calm now,” Ogg’ward said. “All follow me, and say nothing.”

  There was a chitter from the luggage rack. The furry beret raised its tail and was again a dusty squirrel.

  “The ugly thing must not stay here,” said Ogg’ward. “Emperor’s orders.”

  Sibilla hoisted her bag over her shoulder and scooped up the squirrel. It wiped its grimy face on hers. Murgott took it from her and popped it inside his jacket.

  Ogg’ward poked his beanie out the door and looked about. “I must get us all to my apartment without fuss.”

  The rebel leader had his own apartment? Hodie was impressed.

  “I must clean self up.” Ogg’ward continued. “Then we discuss how to get rid of you two tag-alongs and hideous animal.” He stepped down to the wind-garage floor.

  That didn’t sound exactly friendly. Perhaps Hodie was very wrong to be impressed.

  Sibilla jumped down after Ogg’ward, wiped her nose with her wrist and sniffed loudly like a boy with no manners.

  “Um … ’scuse me, Mister Rebel?” Her voice shook. Ogg’ward looked as if he’d like to squash her with his foot. “A lady said the Emperor wanted his scientists to examine… um … Fontanian children. Um … do you know why?”

  “You are safe, runny-nose boy.” Ogg’ward clutched the red hold-all to his chest. “Scientists want to examine little Queen at age of twelve. Not ordinary child, not rag-tag oik such as you.”

  Sibilla paled, and Hodie’s heart jolted. With one bad choice after another, he had brought the little Queen into terrible danger.

  “We must go quickly before we draw attention.” Ogg’ward frowned down at Hodie. “Also, I warn you. Soon you meet your mother. I have no way to tell her you are coming.” He strode off towards a big inner door. His boots echoed on the cavern floor.

  Hodie stumbled after him. Behind them, the buzzing and activity at the cavern door had grown louder. A mechanical groan made Hodie turn around. He was already so shaken that his eyes could hardly focus. Light through the opening door dazzled him too – but maybe he and Sibilla should dash towards it and try to escape …

  The thought dwindled as a huge wind-truck covered in canvas entered slowly as if it carried precious cargo. He heard Sibilla give a little gasp. Hands to her heart, she stared at the truck as if she sensed what was inside.

  The truck settled on the floor in the centre of the garage. Officers and soldiers edged forward with rifles, pikes, swords at the ready. At an order from an officer, workers began to fold the canvas off the top and sides of the wind-truck. There, through stout iron bars, Hodie saw something moving, something alive, something that glowed like silver. He heard the softest chime, as if the wind breathed through silver leaves. It was – it had to be – a dragon-eagle.

  Hodie saw Sibilla take a step towards the truck, but her knees gave way. Corporal Murgott gathered her up. She was as floppy as a squirrel that had been squeezed.

  ~

  19

  bad choice, bad choice

  and bad choice leads to...

  Murgott, the little Queen in his arms (and the squirrel peering out up by his collar), kneed Hodie on after Ogg’ward, through the inner exit of the wind-garage. Dizzy, heart racing, Hodie realised he stood on a landing inside the cavern city. This was Um’Binnia.

  Ogg’ward grabbed his arm and yanked him down a flight of steps. After two more flights they reached the street, and how strange it was with the cave roof high overhead. Murgott set Sibilla on her feet, straightened her cap and let her lean on his soldierly bulk.

  Shops and houses were stacked against the cavern walls, and street stalls sold ice cream, second-hand clothes, and pickled cabbage. It was all chatter, clatter, rowdiness, the whirr of work and business, the clang of carriage bells. Some people strode about importantly in their best clothes. Various untidy ones loitered, picking on their friends and picking their (own) noses.

  “We walk,” Ogg’ward said. “Very long way.”

  “The boys can’t walk, they’re all worn out,” growled Murgott. “Where is your heart?”

  Ogg’ward thumped a fist onto his chest as if he had a sudden ache. “Do not question my heart, tag-along man. It is in right place and very big.”

  An open carriage pulled by an ogre was rattling past. Ogg’ward glared at Murgott and beckoned it to stop. He hustled Hodie up and into the front-facing seat. Murgott and Sibilla (and the squirrel) climbed in the other seat (which faced backwards).

  “Take us to Imperial Palace.” Ogg’ward had a hand on his moustache again. “At once. Be quiet. No fuss.”

  To the Palace? Hodie tried to pull away, but his arm was in Ogg’ward’s tight grip.

  The ogre adjusted the harness over his chest and set off. Here and there, trolls carried packages, washed windows or pasted up signs. A pair of dwarfs were digging a little trench next to a roadway. A smallish ogre sold pies at a street stall.

  “So noble of you to travel in humble taxi-carriage.” The ogre talked over his shoulder, not even puffing. “You are travellers? Big news. Yesterday the Great Prowdd’on return in triumph. We have not had bigger procession in Um’Binnia since last time!”

  “But his daughter has been kidnapped.” Ogg’ward sat up and clenched his fists. “The Emperor in good temper? You must be wrong.”

  “Oh, not in good temper,” the ogre said. “In terrible rage. But still in triumph. War is declared. Why should we share Stones of Beyond? Why should we not own Beaches of Summerland? Soon, pretty little Fontania will be under foot of Great Prowdd’on.”

  “His very big foot,” muttered Hodie. He saw how pale Sibilla was. She must be terrified someone would see through her disguise. Murgott obviously thought so too, because he gave the little Queen one of those shakes that is really a comforting hug. But Murgott himself looked grey and drawn. Hodie wished he had a way to help the Queen, but she was hardly an odd job where all he needed was a hammer, an oil-can or a spanner. Besides, round about now he would have rather liked a hug himself.

  They rode through interlocking caverns. Ogg’ward kept his tweedy collar up, the beanie down. Several people looked curiously at Hodie and Sibilla. Most people stared at Murgott, then quickly away. He was very off-putting – a balding ex-pirate who hadn’t shaved, and who looked as if he’d punch anyone who even blinked at the grimy blue-eyed boy on the seat beside him.

  How long till they reached the Palace? It was hard for Hodie to breathe, only partly because of the stuffiness of the mountain city. He felt Murgott’s boot give his a nudge. The Corporal’s expression was as grim as ever but this time it included a wink.

  “Brace yourself.” He gave Hodie’s knee a gentle pat – well, Murgott might have meant it to be a pat, but it was more like a huge dry animal falling on Hodie’s leg. Actually, the pat jarred the wound on Hodie’s calf – the one from the spikes on the Bridge of Teeth. Actually, his entire leg felt sore now.

  The ogre had begun to puff and pant. “Nearly there,” he said. “Almost at Imperial Palace …” There was a clunk, a pop, and his harness broke. “Oh, sorry. You must walk last steps to Supreme Door of Imperial Palace.”

  “Then no payment for ride that is too short.” In one stride Ogg’ward was out of the carriage, dragging Hodie behind him. Hodie stumbled. Murgott helpe
d Sibilla out and settled her cap again. The squirrel shook its fur and stretched its hind legs.

  “Pay for nearly there?” the ogre said. “Be fair to ogres?”

  “I could report you to Emperor,” muttered Ogg’ward. “But all right – I give half dollero.”

  The ogre trudged off as quietly as anyone can when they’re trundling a carriage.

  “Ha,” said Ogg’ward, “we are not going in Supreme Door anyway. We use small private door right here.” He rummaged in a pocket and brought out a key.

  How did the chief rebel come to have a key to the Supreme Palace? Hodie exchanged a worried look with Murgott. The Corporal’s eyes had narrowed. Yet what choice did they have but to follow Ogg’ward?

  Inside, there was just room for them all in a tiny foyer. Ogg’ward shut the door again and locked it from the inside. Then he shrugged off his heavy overcoat and hung it on a fancy hook. He pulled off his beanie and shook out his hair – it turned out to be black and ringletty like the Princessa’s (though the ringlets were very much flattened). He undid a few buttons around his waistband, shook his trouser legs, and they billowed out to become a long skirt with straps and frills. Then he peeled off the furry moustache and cried, “Ouch!”

  Ogg’ward, chief rebel, was Princessa Lu’nedda.

  ~

  20

  choosing how to say hello

  Hodie blinked several times, but the rebel really was Lu’nedda. Murgott let out a long quiet whistle. It looked as if Sibilla nearly curtsied, as she’d been taught when greeting another royal person. Luckily she turned it into a sniff and wiped her nose on the arm of her jacket. Luckily, too, the Princessa still didn’t seem to have recognised Sibilla or the Corporal. Hodie blinked again and muttered to himself, Please let it stay all right.