The Queen and the Nobody Boy

by Barbara Else

  “That’s all right.” Hodie began to step down from the platform.

  “Now boy,” Murgott continued. “Bury any other food you have. At once.”

  Hodie sighed, but saw it as one last odd job. He started to prise up stones to make a hole.

  Another metal howl came from the east.

  “Now, the news, Your Mm – ah …” Murgott looked past Sibilla at the crowd on the platform. He lowered his voice, but Hodie could still hear him. “The King sent a message to hurry back to the Grand Palace. Did it arrive?”

  “I missed it, did I?” She blinked at Murgott with those blue eyes.

  Hodie couldn’t stop a grin. The Queen’s words were not a lie because she’d simply asked another question.

  The metal bird squawked inside her bag. She jostled it into silence again.

  Murgott frowned at the Queen as he must have done before his pirate ship went into battle against twenty others – resolutely, but not with much hope. “So it’s as the King suspected. You need another copy of the message. It’s spoken. By me. Er-hem: ‘The old dragon-eagle visited the King. King Jasper and your mother Lady Helen need you to hurry home at once.’”

  The Queen’s eyes were troubled. “I’m really fed up and sorry, Murgott. But I’m no use at home. I’m helping Hodie.”

  Hodie opened his mouth to say he didn’t need help, there was no way he was climbing on a wind-train, and all he wanted to do was head south! But Murgott spoke again, firmly. “The bad news is that the young dragon-eagle has been captured. We don’t know how or why, or who has got it. The worse news is that King Jasper says the other dragon-eagle is very ill and dying. Magic is at its lowest ebb for ten years. Very soon the old dragon-eagle will need the King, or the Queen, and most definitely will need the missing Ties.”

  Sibilla clutched both hands in fists over her heart. Murgott’s voice was a low rumble. “The very worst news is what we have always known – if The Ties are not found in time, it is the end of the dragon-eagles and the end of magic.”

  Hodie bit down a snort of disbelief and stomped the last scraps of stale banquet into the hole he had dug. He stole another glance and saw Queen Sibilla’s eyes glisten with tears. She held them back but she was trembling.

  “And the other worst news is that Um’Binnia still intends to declare war, ma’am.” Murgott almost saluted but scratched behind his ear instead.

  Sibilla wiped her nose on her sleeve. “But we let the Emperor and Princessa Lu’nedda stay with us for a whole week. Not even he would be so mean as to declare war after sitting in our chairs. Eating our porridge and bacon. Sleeping in our beds. And they already have the biggest and best of everything. Why would they want Fontania?”

  Hodie stood up and dusted his hands – he couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Because they’re greedy. They spent that week snooping and spying. King Jasper knew. He asked me to fit new locks on his workshop door and …”

  “Boy, your observations are not needed,” Murgott growled. “Her Mm – ah … somebody has important duties back in Fontania, so we’ll say goodbye. Her Mm – ah … somebody and me will sneak off without being noticed. We might catch up with that horse.” He glared at the squirrel, which squinted back, then turned to chase a flea through its ratty tail.

  Please stop chattering and arguing, thought Hodie. Just go, and I’ll make my own way however I like!

  The little Queen stood as tall as she could (not very) and looked straight ahead, which happened to be at a sweat stain in the armpit of Murgott’s jacket. Hodie saw her eyes take on a strange unfocused stare. It must be a trick royal parents taught their children very young.

  “Very well,” Sibilla said. “I’ll go home. But Murgott, Hodie is brave, setting off on his own to face the Emperor. He’s been kind and done his best to protect me, though I didn’t need it. So I’ll do one last thing for him. Hand over all the food you’ve brought. I don’t want a bite myself. Hodie must have it.”

  The Corporal put both arms round his duffel bag. “I made the picnic with my own hands. I’m not …”

  “And give him money for a ticket,” Sibilla said. “We’ll see him onto the wind-train and wave goodbye.”

  ~

  12

  nobody should do this

  Hodie’s pocket clinked – with ten dolleros! He’d never had one dollero in his life, let alone ten. His satchel bulged with the Corporal’s entire picnic: bacon and egg pie, six fresh cold sausages, several slices of chocolate brownie, a blue glass bottle of lemon cordial. The smell of the pie made his stomach gurgle. Murgott was the best cook in the Grand Palace, even better than the actual cook – perhaps he scared the ingredients the same way he got the best out of new recruits.

  “Thank you.” Hodie was careful not to bow. He stepped back and walked away along the platform. He couldn’t wait to eat one of those sausages but knew the little Queen would be as hungry as he was. It was kinder to wait till she couldn’t see. Besides, it had better look as if he was going on the wind-train, or Murgott might demand the picnic back.

  Hodie leaned on a crate against the Depot wall. A nearby poster said, Tell police and army at once about any rebel. Over it someone had scribbled, Tell rebel about police and army too, and pencilled a sign like the sunrise crown lopsided over a snooty face and spiky moustache.

  Corporal Murgott looked like an uncle, the Queen like a small nephew in a big cap explaining about his sore feet. It was astonishing how Queen Sibilla hadn’t grizzled about the blisters. Nor had she moaned about having to eat stale banquet, or not having a bathroom. Poor her – now she had to set off without lunch, back to a country that was protected only by fragile magic. If you believed in magic. Which of course Hodie didn’t. He’d seen a bird sort of thing in the garden, late at night. That bird with a body and paws rather like a lion’s, covered in feathers that rustled like leaves made of metal. But that was nothing to do with magic. It was very likely all a result of the drugged custard. If King Jasper thought the thing had spoken to him, that was the King’s business.

  The wind strengthened, and Hodie felt splatters of rain. The people on the platform stared at the sky and down the dark canyon to the east. More people crowded from the waiting room, listening for another howl from the wind-train. The Um’Binnian soldiers and station guards shifted from foot to foot. If Sibilla didn’t leave soon, it was more and more possible someone would recognise her. She turned now and gave Hodie a smile.

  Wind thrummed in the pylons. Dust flew harder and faster from the east.

  Then came the long metal howl. In the canyon mouth, Hodie saw a bright blur. Next moment a wind-train shot out of the canyon and snaked above the valley floor towards the Depot. Lamps shone at the front. Four large swivelling wings on the engine made it shift this way and that to catch currents of wind. Larger wings were spaced along three carriages, one of which looked like a dining car, and a van that must be for luggage. Concertina metal cages linked the carriages.

  The wind-train slowed, hovered for a moment, then swooped to land beside the platform with a grinding roar (and several bumps). It rolled for a moment as a grille at the front scooped up rubbish. Hodie guessed that was to stop stuff being sucked into the engine. All kinds of rubbish stuck there: shreds of plants, feathers, food wrappings, something with a green glint, even a hat.

  The wind-train came to a stop. Valves in the engine puffed and gasped. The whole train was brass and wood, dulled with the buffeting of grit and sand. Along the sides were dents where it must have bashed against canyon walls. A window slid open in the engine. The Um’Binnian driver poked his head out, looked back along the wind-train, reached up and pulled a handle. A high whistle sounded. Carriage doors began to open and passengers piled out to stretch their legs.

  Railway workers unhitched the luggage van, and pushed it well back so the two carriages Emperor Prowdd’on had left could drop down from the pulleys to link up be
hind the dining car. More workers scrambled onto the carriage tops to check the wind-sails and do repairs. Hodie squizzed at the sails, held in place by brackets, hinges and metal ropes, and at how the sails themselves were different shapes depending on where they were along the train: triangles, hexagons, rectangles.

  Sibilla and Murgott still hadn’t moved off – but then they hadn’t seen Hodie climb aboard yet. This could be tricky.

  The Corporal said something to the little Queen, ran up to the engine and hopped down beside the metal scoop. He straightened and shoved the glinting thing into his bag. Was it a satin slipper? One with emeralds that Princessa Lu’nedda had worn in the Grand Palace? They certainly made big slippers in Um’Binnia. With a slightly red face, the Corporal sauntered back to join the Queen.

  The waiting passengers were trying to pile in now. The station guard kept shouting. “Be orderly in lines! Show tickets! Not to shove!” The crowd didn’t pay a blind bit of attention.

  Murgott and Sibilla still stared at the wind-train. Dodging elbows and luggage, Hodie moved further up the platform, hoping it would look as if he was trying to climb aboard. He made sure the Queen noticed him again. Now, how best to wriggle backwards through the crowd? He would hide behind the Depot till the train had gone, and so had Murgott and Queen Sibilla.

  A man carrying a long and awkward piece of luggage had struggled off the wind-train. “Carriage to border!” he cried through his Um’Binnian moustache. “Where is transport? By order of Emperor!”

  The long piece of luggage swiped Hodie’s shoulder. “Ow!” He rubbed the bruise.

  An Um’Binnian officer forced through the crowd. “Are you scientist?” he called. “Show me Silver Medal of Discovery.”

  A woman with more pieces of strange-shaped luggage joined the man. She wore a medal on a coat with button-down pockets.

  “Yes, yes, I am Master-Professor Glimp,” the man said. “And here is Madame-Professor Winterbee. Is Fontania invaded yet?”

  Hodie listened so hard he almost felt his ears expand.

  “King Jasper and Queen Sibilla are not yet in our control,” the officer said. “Emperor’s plans have …” He put a finger to his lips and lowered his voice.

  Down the platform, Sibilla began to turn her head. The officer was still talking.

  “… and King Jasper has sped from City of Spires on flagship-steamer, Excellent Eagle.”

  Hodie felt himself being pushed along by the crowd. He edged back to catch the officer’s next sentence.

  “… telegraph not working at moment. The wires very tangled by the storm. Urgent to fix it. Moment it is A-OK again, war will be declared. Then you examine little Queen for magical ability.” The officer clicked his heels and marched back into the Depot.

  A scary sense of duty tried to grip Hodie. But none of this was his problem. It really wasn’t.

  “Typical kerfuffle.” The Madame-Professor tapped her fingers on her luggage. “We interrupt our holiday to rush over, but there is no war.”

  Master-Professor Glimp sucked on his moustache. “We will go to City of Spires as Emperor ordered. Find good hotel. Then wait.”

  Hodie found he’d shuffled closer to hear more.

  “Remember, we will each win Gold Medal of Discovery in next Imperial Honours List.” Glimp looked very pleased with himself.

  “Hmph,” said Madame-Professor Winterbee. “What if rebels get rid of Prowdd’on in meantime? What if rebels become new government while we are examining little Queen?”

  Rebels? Yes, the rebels against Emperor Prowdd’on! Hodie wanted to give a cheer, and kept on listening.

  “Then we say we examine royal Fontanians for honour of new government. There is always very good answer in science.” Glimp heaved up various bits of baggage and struggled off across the platform.

  The Madame-Professor glanced at Hodie. He pretended he was on a quest for ear-wax (and actually found some). She took a notebook from one of her pockets, scribbled a few lines, looked at him more closely, then spoke to him. “Boy, are you Fontanian or Um’Binnian? Little brother here is definitely Fontanian.”

  Little brother …? Sibilla was at his shoulder! Hodie made a go-away face at her. She wiped her nose on the back of her hand and grinned like a small boy being curious. Down the platform, Murgott was looking in his duffel bag at something.

  The scientist scrawled a last line and showed Hodie and Sibilla the sketch. “There! Fontanian ethnic rags, all very quaint.”

  She had drawn two ragamuffins with dirty faces: a taller boy with a straight dark fringe sticking out under a cap, a smaller boy in a huge cap with no hair showing. Both urchins stared wide eyed at the wind-train (there was a hint of a carriage and one sail, to give the idea). The scientist had also drawn the pendant peeking out from Sibilla’s collar. What’s more, she had written a caption: Fontanian urchins agog at Um’Binnian progress, while their royal family undergoes Um’Binnian examination and investigation.

  “Examination?” Sibilla asked – luckily in a high voice that could belong to a little brother. “Investigation?”

  Winterbee nodded. “To track and trace magical ability. Myself, I doubt they have it. But scientist keep open mind.” She tucked the notebook away. “If it is true, we discover how to make stronger abilities in Um’Binnia.” She picked up her luggage.

  “Excuse me?” Hodie said. The Professor stopped. “Are you going to hurt the – um – Queen?”

  Madame-Professor flicked a hand. “Pain cannot stop progress of Um’Binnia. Little Queen is most interesting, because she is just at age of twelve when abilities appear – if there are any. Her, we will examine very hard.”

  ~

  Sibilla stared after the Madame-Professor, blood draining from her face, then dashed off to Murgott.

  Hodie watched as the two scientists loaded their boxes and bags into a carriage on metal runners (so that’s how carriages managed over the stones), hopped in and set off with a crunching of gravel.

  At the far end of the Depot, a troop of soldiers was being handed out polishing cloths. Big double doors were hauled open behind them. Inside, Hodie saw rows of army carriages bearing the crest of Emperor Prowdd’on. There were brass and iron cannon on sleds too.

  Thank goodness, any moment Hodie would be heading south to a job on a farm with quiet sheep, where the most scary thing would be a friendly cow.

  Something chittered. The ugly grey squirrel crouched at his feet. It blinked at Hodie.

  “All aboooaard!” cried the station guard.

  The ropes that held the wings began to tighten. Station workers at the pulleys fitted enormous hooks to the engine and carriages. When the wind caught the sails, the whole thing would take off. The height of those pulley towers sent a chill through Hodie’s lungs.

  Sibilla and Murgott were near the last group of passengers, obviously arguing. Hodie put his bet on Sibilla winning. She looked scared and angry, and who could blame her? Hodie would refuse to go home now if he were royal.

  “Oi!” called the guard to the driver. “Have you good supply of Toad Oil to safely land all extra carriages?” The driver nodded. “Enough food for extra passengers?”

  “No,” the driver shouted. “But no matter, because there is no cook.”

  Passengers popped their heads out of the windows. “No cook? No cook?” They sounded like a row of fussy poultry. “I will complain to Emperor!” a plump man cried.

  More passengers popped their heads out. “Must have cook! Must have cook! Big appetite! Cook! Cook!”

  Sibilla bashed Murgott on the back and waved at the driver. “Oi! Over here! This man’s a cook!” She whirled around and beckoned Hodie. He saw fear and relief in her eyes. “Us boys is the cook’s two helpers!”

  Hodie felt as horrified as Murgott looked. Climb on a wind-train? The very thought made Hodie’s knees weak. But now everyone had noticed him
. They’d think it very strange if he didn’t give a goofy grin, trudge over and look keen.

  “Train already is at overload!” shouted the driver.

  “Cook!” the passengers roared. “Must have cook!”

  It looked to Hodie as if the engine driver said a bucketful of strong curses. “Close windows and shut up! I will take cook and one boy only!”

  “Hodie has to come!” Sibilla grabbed Hodie’s arm and hissed at him. “You can get your stolen stuff!” He felt her shaking – she was terrified. Again, how could he blame her?

  Murgott strode over and spoke to her through clenched teeth (very spitty, and it landed on Hodie). “The boy’s belongings are not your problem. Your safety is at stake. I am carting you home to your mum.”

  “But I’ll be examined by a scientist!” she hissed back.

  “I have orders from the King,” insisted Murgott.

  She began behaving like a naughty little boy. “Raise right foot, so!” She grinned at the passengers, acting like mad. “Swivel on left foot, so! Kick right foot! So!”

  She pretended to kick Murgott, tangled her legs deliberately and fell over. The passengers laughed through their windows. Murgott closed his eyes and clenched his fists, and Sibilla scrambled up and leaped in the wind-train.

  Murgott opened his eyes. He let out a piratical curse (to do with bilges) and jumped after her. Hodie cursed like mad in silence, and stayed where he was.

  Along the carriage, Sibilla stuck her head through a window. “Hodie! Hurry up!”

  “All aboooaard!” The guard slammed the door.

  The pulleys strained and graunched. Wind whistled over the Depot roof and stung Hodie’s eyes. The wind-train lifted high above the ground.

  The guard came up beside him and spoke kindly. “Urchin-boy, you are better off here. They head into Force Nine gale.”

  The ugly squirrel was crouched on a crate. Gusts parted its scruffy fur this way and that, no doubt whisking fleas to goodness-knew-where.

  There was a crunching noise, and Hodie turned. Down the hill behind the Depot, the scientists’ carriage came sledding back. It skidded to a stop, and out jumped Professor Glimp. “Stop!” he called. “Stop wind-train!”