‘Eated?’ said Morgan le Fey, moving away from the boy. ‘Eated? Oh my God. Was you attacked by cannibals?’
‘No, no, we all eated him,’ said Romeo.
Morgan le Fey moved further away and turned white.
‘The crackling was delicious,’ said Romeo.
Seeing the expression on Morgan le Fey’s face, the Cook explained that Geoffrey was not a small boy, but a large pig.
‘So now I has the family I always dreamt of,’ the Cook said, putting one arm round Romeo and the other round Morgan le Fey. ‘We will celebrate with gristle pie and mulled cabbage water.’
If I had sat down and written a plan, it wouldn’t have been any better than this, thought Morgan le Fey.
She soon discovered that what Lady Petaluna had told her about Romeo’s amazing abilities was true. She stood open-mouthed as he climbed into the red-hot ovens and scraped them clean. Not only did Romeo Crick glow gold, he was also worth his weight in it. She had to get him away from the Cook and up into her quarters before her stupid brother found out about him.
It didn’t take long for the opportunity to arise. The Cook adored the boy and rarely let him out of her sight, but now she adored Blossom Scroggins too.
Of course, the easiest thing would be to knock the Cook out with a sleeping draught, but the woman was crafty and forever on her guard. She would neither eat nor drink anything that she hadn’t prepared herself, yet it seemed she made an exception to that rule whenever Romeo made chocolate truffles for her. It was simple enough to slip something into them as the boy was making them. He was a total innocent and never suspected anyone would do stuff like that. So when Morgan le Fey offered to help him, he was only too happy to let her.
Each night the kitchen staff went back to their hovels, leaving only the Cook, Morgan le Fey and Romeo behind, for their beds were in the kitchen itself. So every night the three of them would eat their dinner at the huge pine table that during the day was the centre of all the cooking activity.
And after they had dined on the finest pig’s knuckles and fish bladders filled with shredded weasel, they would sit back and relax, and it was then that the Cook would finish her meal off with a few of Romeo’s chocolate truffles.
‘I do believe, my little angel, that these are the best truffles you have made. They have an almost magical richness to them that almost puts me into a trance,’ she said that night.
Then she fell off her chair and lay amongst the straw, snoring like a very large pig with a terrible nasal problem.
‘Would you’m like to see outside?’ said Morgan le Fey as Blossom.
‘What, upstairs?’ said Romeo Crick.
‘Indeed.’
‘It’s not allowed. Cook said I was never to go above stairs or something terrible would happen to me and I’d be turned into a carrot.’
‘’Tain’t true,’ said Morgan le Fey. ‘People can’t be turned into carrots. Though I did see someone turned into a potato once, but they got turned back again when the new moon comed.’
‘But…’
‘Come on. Old Cookie be fast asleep. We’ll be back before she wakes up.’
She took Romeo’s hand and led him up the stairs. They passed through the storerooms and up more stairs until they reached ground level, where Lady Petaluna was waiting.
‘What’re you doing here?’ said Romeo Crick.
‘You haven’t told him yet, then, my lady?’ said Lady Petaluna.
‘No, I thought I’d wait until we got back to my quarters,’ said Morgan le Fey in her proper voice.
‘Why are you talking different?’ said Romeo, looking frightened. ‘I don’t want to be here no more. I want to go back down to Cookie.’
Morgan le Fey picked the boy up, slung him over her shoulder and she and Lady Petaluna hurried back along the corridors until they were safely back in the North-West Wing. She sat Romeo Crick down and explained who she was.
‘So you’re not Blossom Scroggins?’ said the boy and, turning to Lady Petaluna, he added, ‘And you are not a serving wench?’
‘No,’ said Morgan le Fey. ‘I am Morgan le Fey, the King’s sister, and Lady Petaluna is my lady-in-waiting.’
‘Oh,’ said Romeo Crick a little sadly.
The first time he had set eyes on Lady Petaluna, he had felt a little flutter in his heart. Even with her serving wench disguise and face mask of soot and squashed slugs, she had made his pulses race. Of course, being only eleven, he didn’t know why his pulses were racing. He thought it was probably indigestion caused by a particularly delicious lump of gristle, but every time he looked at Petaluna the feeling came back. He had sort of fallen in love with Lady Petaluna, in the only way an eleven-year-old boy can fall in love with an eleven-year-old girl, but now he had discovered she was a lady and not a simple serving wench, he felt his heart sink for he knew she would never be able to love someone as humble as him.
‘You deserve better in life than being stuck down in the kitchens with that awful Cook,’ said Morgan le Fey.
‘But she is like a mother to me,’ said Romeo.
‘No she isn’t,’ said Morgan le Fey. ‘She was quite happy to chuck you into the ovens to clean them and don’t forget that the first time she did she didn’t know you were fireproof. She only pretends to love you because you are so useful to her.’
‘I suppose so,’ said Romeo.
‘You know so,’ said Morgan le Fey. ‘Now you are free of her.’
‘But won’t she come looking for me?’
‘She may indeed, but she can only leave the floors below ground level on pain of death and I don’t think she loves you enough for that.’
‘She might.’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Morgan le Fey. ‘But tomorrow morning Lady Petaluna will put her serving wench disguise back on and go down and check.’
She did and came back to report that the Cook had woken up with a terrible headache and screamed her head off until everyone else had a terrible headache and then when she had discovered Romeo was missing she instantly swore to kill Blossom Scroggins, who she suspected had taken him away. She had then cursed Romeo with the Curse of the Bagpipes and finally, to console herself, she had eaten the rest of the chocolate truffles, which had sent her back to sleep.
While she had been asleep one of the kitchen staff, who by chance was second cousin to Clynk the jailer, sent down for him and he had rolled her down the three flights of stone steps to the dungeons and locked her up in a cell with Potion the Mad Nun, so she could not do anyone, apart from Potion, any harm when she woke up.
‘Fair enough,’ said Romeo Crick. After all, he had seen his own family and beloved pig Geoffrey killed before his eyes. This had made him philosophical about life and realise that you should never waste time thinking about things that you could actually sort out quite satisfactorily in half a minute.47
‘Now you follow my advice and not only will you never have to go near a kitchen again,’ said Morgan le Fey, ‘you will actually become a great knight.’
Of course, Romeo Crick was very taken with this idea and instantly started being in love with Lady Petaluna again. If he was a great knight, she would be sure to love him back. For her part, Lady Petaluna had fallen deeply in love with Romeo Crick in the only way an eleven-year-old girl can fall in love with an eleven-year-old boy, the first moment she saw him. She had told herself that because he was just a humble kitchen minion – even though he was fireproof, which was very attractive and all that – she could never love him. Now that he was going to become a great knight, everything would be wonderful and she instantly started being in love with him again.
Morgan le Fey explained about the dragon problem and the blocked drains and told him how the Royal Messengers were scouring the Kingdom for a Brave Knight to kill the dragons and save the day.
‘Though when I say save the day,’ she said, ‘I mean save the humans’ day. Not so much the dragons’.’
‘But aren’t dragons an endangered species?’ sai
d Romeo.
‘Thankfully, yes,’ said Morgan le Fey. ‘And now we must throw away your rags and attire you in clothes fit for a great knight.’
There was one thing that Romeo Crick had owned for as long as he could remember and it was the piece of string that he wore tied round his waist.
‘I will need to keep my magic string,’ he said, ‘but I can always wear it underneath my new clothes.’
He lifted his arms and Morgan le Fey removed his rough hessian tunic, his best one with ‘Finest Potatoes’ written on the back.
Then she fainted.48
Lady Petaluna held an onion under Morgan le Fey’s nose until she came round. Then the Princess looked at Romeo again and fainted some more.
‘My lady,’ said Lady Petaluna in a scared voice, ‘what ails you?’
‘His back, look.’
‘He bears a strange birthmark,’ said Lady Petaluna.
‘You do not know what it is?’
‘No.’
‘It is the Mark of the King,’ whispered Morgan le Fey. ‘This boy is the true King of Avalon.’
‘But your brother…’ Lady Petaluna began.
‘Is not my brother. Romeo is my brother,’ said Morgan le Fey.
She fell to her knees and kissed Romeo’s feet.
‘I always knew something was wrong,’ she said. ‘Petaluna, go as fast as you can and bring Merlin to me.’
‘Bring Merlin here?’ said Lady Petaluna. ‘Are you sure, my lady?’
‘Of course I am sure. Everything is different now,’ said Morgan le Fey. ‘Absolutely everything.’
‘Go to the North-West Wing?’ said Merlin when Lady Petaluna found him. ‘Go to the rooms of Morgan le Fey? Surely you are mistaken?’
‘No, my lord,’ said Lady Petaluna. ‘I thought so too, but my lady insists. She says, my lord, it is more important than your dislike of each other. She says it is above all that and the whole world is changed.’
As the old wizard followed Lady Petaluna back to the North-West Wing, he suspected there was only one thing it could be. He felt his heart begin to soar with happiness, but his brain told his heart to grow up and calm down. If his thoughts were right, this was the biggest thing to hit Avalon since an extremely big asteroid had landed on a remote hilltop and turned it into an extremely deep lake.
No, no, he told himself. The King is the King and he was not swapped at birth. Oh that it were true and we are to be rid of the idiot boy who rules over us all. It cannot be. It is too much to hope for.
But it was true.
It had always been true, the suspicion that had haunted him from the day of Arthur’s birth, and here was the evidence before his own eyes.
He fell to his knees and kissed Romeo’s feet.
‘Your majesty,’ he said. ‘I always dreamt of this day, but feared it was just a wishful dream.’
Morgan le Fey reached down and touched the old man on his shoulder. They did not need to speak. That simple touch told them both that they were no longer enemies. The Dark Ages were at an end and the Nice Bright Sunny Ages were about to begin.
‘Excuse me,’ said Romeo Crick, who everyone had forgotten to tell what had happened. ‘Is this, like, what happens when someone gets made a great knight?’
‘A great knight? My lord, you are the greatest knight of all,’ said Merlin. ‘You are the true King Arthur, ruler of Avalon.’
‘Um, OK,’ said Romeo Crick, assuming it was all some sort of practical joke.
Lady Petaluna brought a mirror so that Romeo could see the royal birthmark on his back.
‘Oh,’ said Romeo/Arthur. ‘In the village they all told me it was the Curse of the Haddock, which I bore because I had been fished out of the river.’
‘No, no, the Curse of the Haddock is completely different,’ Merlin explained. ‘That looks like a big crown, whereas the Mark of the King looks like this.’
‘A big fish?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Let me tell him. Let me tell him,’ Morgan le Fey insisted. ‘I am SO going to enjoy this.’
The King Arthur who wasn’t King Arthur was sitting in the middle of the floor with his back to everyone and was so absorbed playing with his toy soldiers that he didn’t hear them come up behind him.
‘I am the greatest King who has ever lived,’ he said. ‘And you are powerless against the Great Knights of Camelot, the greatest of whom, of course, is me.’
He leant forward and with a sweep of his arm sent the rows of toy soldiers flying, leaving only a small group of toy knights on horseback standing in front of him.
‘Actually, you are a nasty spoilt little brat,’ said Morgan le Fey. ‘You are not a knight. You are not great and you are not even a king.’
As the King Arthur who wasn’t King Arthur spun round, Morgan le Fey stepped forward and flattened his toy knights under her foot.
‘GUARDS! GUARDS!’ the boy shouted at the top of his tiny voice, but no one came.
Merlin had told Captain of the Guard what was happening.
‘NANNY! NANNY!’ he shouted, but Nana Agnys did not come either.
Merlin had spoken to her too and she was having counselling for having devoted her heart and life to a fake king.
‘How dare you talk to your King like that?’ cried the King Arthur who wasn’t King Arthur. ‘You may be my sister, but I will not stand for such insubordination. I will send you to the Island of Vegetables with Mother.’
‘Mother is dead because of you,’ said Morgan le Fey. ‘But the point is that you are not actually King Arthur.’
‘Don’t be stupid, of course I am.’
‘No, you and the real King were swapped at birth,’ said Merlin. ‘I have suspected it since you first spoke. The midwife who attended your mother saw a large bird flying away just after you were born and we now know it was carrying away the baby that is the true King Arthur.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Who has put you up to this?’ said King Arthur who wasn’t King Arthur. ‘I will have you all sent to the Island of Vegetables for this treason.’
‘There is a simple test,’ said Morgan le Fey. ‘Take off your shirt.’
‘And reveal my perfect body to you lowly commoners? Never.’
‘If you don’t,’ said Morgan le Fey, ‘I will take it off for you.’
‘I don’t think so,’ said King Arthur who wasn’t King Arthur. ‘You may be a Top Royal Princess, but even you may not touch one hair of my supreme person.’
‘Rot,’ said Morgan le Fey and pulled the boy’s shirt up over his head.
‘See, there is the proof,’ said Merlin. ‘The boy has no Mark of the King on his back.’
‘Oh well, yes, of course not,’ said King Arthur who wasn’t King Arthur. ‘My body is a perfect sacred temple. It does not even have so much as a tiny mole to mar its unparalleled beauty.’
‘Quite so,’ said Merlin, ‘But every single King of Avalon since time immemorial has had the Mark of the King on his back.’
‘Oh, that,’ said King Arthur who wasn’t King Arthur. ‘The horrid crown thing. I had that removed.’
‘It is not a crown,’ said Morgan le Fey. ‘If you were the true King you would know that.’
‘Oh, yes, of course. I meant to say the other mark, the, er, um, you know.’
‘Yes, we know, but you do not,’ said Morgan le Fey. ‘Guards, take him away. Take him down to the dungeons and put him in the cell with the Cook. I think she may have need of a new assistant.’
Word soon spread that the King Arthur who wasn’t King Arthur had been replaced by a King Arthur who was the proper King Arthur and that he was not only much nicer and more intelligent than the impostor, but that his legs looked even better in mauve tights.
‘Not that I actually want to wear tights, mauve or otherwise,’ said the Romeo Crick who was the real King Arthur.
It was Lady Petaluna’s twelfth birthday and as Romeo Crick, who henceforth will be called King Arthur, didn’t know when his birthday was, he decided it wa
s his twelfth birthday too, and because he was King everyone agreed.
Now he was King and on the same level as Lady Petaluna, the wonderful indigestion feeling came back and he had to turn away to hide his blushes hoping that no one had noticed them.
Nobody had, apart from Morgan le Fey, Merlin, Lady Petaluna and Fremsley the Royal Whippet, who had just walked into the room to complain that he wasn’t getting nearly enough attention or doggy treats.49
And because Romeo Crick was now King Arthur, the old pretend King Arthur needed a new name. No one knew who he really was or where he had come from.50 It was assumed he was from a poor peasant family because if he had been someone important, there would have been an outcry when he had been stolen, whereas in the old days, peasant babies got lost all the time. Some got eaten by dragons or squashed under sleeping cows. Some were carried away by giant birds to be raised as bird babies, which only worked until they tried to fly for the first time, and some really tiny babies simply blew away in the wind. The peasants just accepted it as part of life.
‘Plenty more where that one came from,’ they said and got on with their lives.
‘We will let the Cook decide what he shall be called,’ said Merlin. ‘She is, after all, going to be the closest thing he’s got to a family.51 Better tell her that this one isn’t fireproof, too, otherwise there’ll be no point in giving him a name.’
To say the ex-King was angry was like saying crocodiles are cuddly. When the Cook was let out of the cell and stuck the boy under her arm to carry him back up to the kitchen, he kicked and screamed so much that the hairs in her armpit caught fire.
‘I can see we’re going to have to make some changes here,’ said the Cook.
‘Don’t talk to me like that, you big, fat ugly stupid peasant,’ the ex-King screamed.
‘Quite a lot of changes, I reckons,’ she said.
‘Put me down this minute or I’ll have you thrown in jail and tortured and poked with pointy sticks!’ he yelled.
The Cook reached up and took a large wire basket down from a hook in the kitchen ceiling. It was where she kept the hens’ eggs and was just the right size to keep a small ex-King safely locked up. He smashed the seven eggs in the basket, which did no one any harm except himself.
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