“Thank you, Skipton,” Tugson said. “Dismissed.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“And may I say, Lieutenant, that you taking care of Blackpool Underground on your own today has proved to me that you are more of a man than your father ever was,” Lukeson said.
Skipton smiled and nearly burst into tears. “Thank you, Sergeant Major.” Then he wasted no time hitting ground, feeling as if he was in his own bed.
“Meng, see him to his bed,” Lukeson said.
Mengy saluted and lifted her trunk up. Skipton was up in the air like a balloon with the exception of no string to hold it and followed her wherever she went.
“Zebras, Rustom, escort the merfolk to the pipes,” Lukeson said.
“Yes, sir,” all three said. Then the merfolk followed them to the pipes.
“Guzman, get your nephew and niece to bed at once.” Then Lukeson yawned and walked off.
“Come on, kids,” Aunt Paula said to the young penguins. “It’s time for bedtime. Sergeant Lukeson has declared another day off for us so get another good lie-in.”
“Yay, no school,” Pedro cheered.
“But what about shopping?” Larissa asked. “I wanted to treat myself.”
“You can treat yourself,” her aunt said. “To those dresses you a year ago but never wore. Now, come on, to bed.”
“But, Auntie,” yawned Pedro. “It’s only one.”
“One in the morning, not the afternoon,” Paula explained.
“I still don’t feel tired,” Pedro said. “It must be the jet lag from travelling all over the world.” Then the cheeky penguin closed his eyes and fell down.
Paula and Larissa saw that there was a dart in the back of his head. Then they glared at Rustom.
“Well, Mengy’s too busy to put a sleep in his eye,” the rhino said. “And I didn’t even touch the skull.”
The female penguins muttered as they dragged Pedro forward.
“You’re welcome, by the way,” Rustom said. He went to follow the zebras and the merfolk until something caught his eye. Ignoring Lukeson’s instructions, he went into the nearest alleyway.
* * *
Stu Pot and Kathy were at the giant water pipes with Chris, James, their mer-king and Pavia. They dived into the water section where the half sunken pipes lived.
“See you later, guys,” Kathy cried.
“You guys know the way?” Stu Pot asked.
“I am Mer-King Coralbeard of the Atlantic Ocean. I know the whole thing like the back of my hand.” Then he looked at it. “Oh, I didn’t know that sea shell was there.” He took the shell off.
The zebras laughed and waved.
“Goodbye,” said the mermen together. Then they vanished into the pipes.
Then both zebras noticed Rustom wasn’t with them. Kathy spotted the rhino disappearing into an alleyway.
“Should we follow him?” she asked.
“Better to be safe than sorry,” Stu Pot replied.
They went into the alleyway. It was so dark. They just assumed that there weren’t enough security glow worms to light everything. And they didn’t have any lights on them. All they could do was arm their solar panel shotguns and keep a sharp lookout.
By the time they finished checking the whole alleyway, they found nothing.
“Well, Stu, I can’t see anything –”
Stu Pot shushed her. Then he turned and aimed for his gun. Kathy did the same and saw none other than... Rustom?
“What are you stripy idiots doing here?” the rhino demanded.
“Just checking you’re not causing trouble,” Stu Pot said. “What’s an immortal bastard like you doing here?”
“I thought I heard something in the alley and I was just checking it wasn’t a cat eating a mouse or a bear attacking a skunk,” the immortal bastard replied.
“Well, you wouldn’t have to worry about the skunk,” Kathy chuckled. “They would spray their odour before their predator would even stretch their arms and claws.”
Stu Pot yawned. “Come on, it’s very late. Let’s hit the hay.”
They started to head to the sleeping barracks. Then Rustom turned around to face the alleyway again.
“Rustom?” called Stu Pot.
“Coming,” the rhino called back. Then he rejoined the zebras and they headed back to their barracks.
BONUS SHORT STORY:
THE RISE OF PETUNIA CLOCKSON
(The story of how Anne Dunbury became
Petunia Clockson)
By
J. J. Shetland
“Shh, shh,” Anne whispered to her baby. She picked him up from his tiny wooden cot.
This was not the usual baby waking up in the middle of the night because he needed breastfeeding or needed to answer the call of nature. Anne’s five-month-old baby boy had a fever. A really serious one that he had for two months and it kept getting worse as time went on.
Even if the family could afford a doctor, Anne’s husband Simon knew no miracles could save him. Being a horse driver taking customers all over Guildford for two decades, he would know. He had never seen a feverish patient that was as bad as their baby boy come out of the doctors and then get better very quickly. Even the ones that had taken the best medicine never got better.
But they didn’t need to waste any coins on a doctor. Because Anne Dunbury was a healer herself. While her husband drove people around Guildford for a living, she made a living herself by healing strangers, human and animal alike, with her own made medicine. She kept the recipe secret from everyone. Not even her husband or children knew a single thing about it. She wouldn’t give Matthew her own medicine because she would only use it as a very last resort in case he could get better on his own or get cured by the town doctor’s medicines.
While husband and wife were working away, their small, smug, damp, wooden cottage all alone in the middle of the Surrey Hills was run by the eldest daughter Victoria of fifteen years old. Victoria was also in charge of looking after her younger siblings: sister Henrietta of eleven years old, brother George of eight years old and baby Matthew until their parents got back. Despite his age, George was the only one after his father able to spilt wood outside the cottage and hunt for food in the hills, while Victoria keep on top of cleaning the cottage and cooking for her siblings and parents. Henrietta was her apprentice.
Keeping on top of the cottage was not a very long and too tiring job as it only had one room with two beds, one for the adults and one for their three oldest children, with a small wooden table and six chairs, but it was very boring. There was nothing else for them to do. There were no dolls to play with, no books for them to read – they never even found a lost sheet paper in the Surrey Hills – and George had to take his cut wood into town to sell because there was no room for a fireplace in the cottage.
“When is he going to shut up?” moaned Victoria, who was getting stressed from Matthew’s crying.
“When he feels better!” Anne snapped. “Now, you shut up!”
She didn’t mean to snap at her oldest daughter, although sometimes she could be a little demanding. She had no sleep all night and couldn’t get Matthew to feel better or be quiet.
“Victoria’s right, Anne,” said Simon. “We don’t want attract wolves or foxes or any other pests.”
“Including the King’s soldiers?” George asked, looking through the right-side window.
“Yes, including the King’s – WHAT!”
As the family ran to the window, they made a lot of loud and worrying noises, causing Matthew to crying even louder.
“Thanks a lot, guys!” Now it was even harder for Anne to calm the baby down, thanks to all the noise they made.
Simon’s sweat was breaking when he could see flaming torches and hear the guards’ shouting coming from the distant. Then he regained his self control and turned to his children. “Victoria, get my hammer and nails. George, come and help me with the big blocks. Henrietta, keep watch.”
Anne kept holding on
to Matthew as she watched the rest of her family hustle.
* * *
Lieutenant Daleson approached Captain Tarton. “They’re in the cottage all right, sir. But the door seems to be heavily blocked from behind and the windows are blocked with strong wooden blocks. It will take all day if we continue to try to break in.”
Tarton looked ahead and saw what the lieutenant meant. Two men at each window barely made a mark on the surface of the wooden blocks with the most powerful axes the army could use. Even though the wooden door was easily being knocked down, there was a huge metal block bigger than the door frame behind it that no one could get through. He wondered what an isolated family in the middle of the Surrey Hills would do with a metal block.
“Soldiers, rally to me!” Tarton ordered. He knew trying to knock the metal block down or push it away would be a waste of time. The soldiers rallied to him and he told them his plan.
After sending the soldiers away to carry out the orders he gave them, Tarton approached the cottage. “Anne Dunbury, by the order of King Charles of England, you and your family are to surrender to us immediately! Otherwise we will be forced to burn you alive!”
He nodded to twelve soldiers holding flaming torches and they went to surround the cottage.
“You have three seconds to come out and surrender!” said the captain. “One!”
* * *
“What shall we do?” George asked. He was holding onto the left side of metal block his father found loose one day in the hills against the wooden door. Simon was glad that the metal block was finally proving itself worthy.
“Let’s go out and surrender,” said Victoria, who was holding onto the right side of the metal block.
“No!” Anne snapped.
Everyone was shocked to hear that.
“Are you screwed up in the head?” Simon demanded. “Do you want to be burnt alive? We don’t.”
“And we won’t,” Anne said.
Victoria stamped her foot. “How do you –”
“Two!” the captain yelled.
“Just trust me!” Anne insisted.
The whole family looked at each other worryingly and looked back at her.
* * *
“Three!”
There was no sound from the cottage. Not even a baby’s cry at all.
“Burn it!” Tarton yelled to the soldiers.
The soldiers used their torches to light the straw-made roof.
A whole minute later, the burning cottage made the Surrey Hills look like they were having a volcano eruption.
* * *
The cottage took three whole hours to melt into a puddle of small flames.
“Captain?” Daleson approached him.
“Yes, Lieutenant?” Tarton had not taken his eyes of the cottage should the family escape.
“Shouldn’t we check the family hasn’t gone through a secret tunnel under the cottage?” suggested Daleson.
“Why would they have a secret tunnel under an isolated cottage in this massive forest?” Tarton demanded. He was not known for suffering fools gladly.
“Well, assuming that they had lived here for many years, they might have had plenty of time to dug one underground in order to escape us. I’m just saying that’s what I would do if I were in your boots.”
Tarton pondered this. Even though the twelve soldiers hadn’t taken their eyes off since they lit the cottage to burn, he never believed in chances, especially with the king’s intolerance of failure. “Very well, then,” he said. “Throw the buckets of water onto the flames and warm ash. Then search everywhere. Leave nothing unturned. Not a single hair.”
Daleson saluted. “Yes, sir.”
Then Tarton watched his lieutenant and his chosen men throw water on the acre worth of ash and using their weapons to search through the burnt rubble. They found nothing suspicious of escapement; no trap doors on the floor, no wardrobes or anything where the bed used to be were. The only thing that was standing on the cottage remains was the giant metal block. Daleson reported all this to Tarton who seemed puzzled by this. It was a large and powerful fire so it could have burnt their bones and organs to the ground. Yet he didn’t hear so much a single cry from the trapped family during the entire burning. There was also no evidence to take back to the king as proof. Then he reminded himself that if he and his army didn’t report back soon, the king would only get worried.
“All right, men!” Tarton called. “Back to Guildford!”
He turned his horse around and trotted off with his men following him. He looked at the burnt site one last time before he vanished with his men.
Two minutes after they left, in the middle of the quick cooling ash, out of thin air appeared a ghost-like red haired woman in brown rags. Then Anne Dunbury turned fully visible. Then she went to her unconscious family who turned fully visible as well. She hoped she hadn’t overdone them with her sleeping chant while making them invisible before the cottage caught ablaze. She was glad her magical powers had successfully helped herself and her family avoid death and trick the king’s solders.
The first thing she did was pull her husband’s black beard and he woke up. As he got up and looked around feeling very puzzled about their cottage being nothing a landfill of ash, Anne stroked her oldest daughter’s black hair and she woke up. Then she stroked Henrietta’s golden hair causing her to wake up and then she move to George and pulled his ginger hair, helping him to stand up and wake up. Then she finally went to baby Matthew, picked him up and touched his forehead. The baby woke up and seemed fine. No crying, no shaking and even no soiling.
“Well, thank God the little brat has finally shut up,” moaned Victoria.
“I told you guys we’d be all right,” said Anne.
“What puzzles me is,” said Simon, “how we survived the burnt cottage without even so much a scratch, let alone a burn?”
“Well, the important thing is we survived and are unhurt,” said Anne. “Now, let’s head over to the River Wey and freshen up while we make our plans for our future.” She started walking, followed by Henrietta and George.
Simon and Victoria looked at each other like they both knew there was something mysterious Anne was trying to hide before they finally decided to follow her.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, the Dunburys arrived at the River Wey.
“George!” cried Simon. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The eight-year-old has his trousers down in front of the river. “I’ve got to go.”
“Not in the water that we have to drink and wash, son,” Simon explained. “Go and do your business behind that big oak tree there.”
“Okay.” George turned around and headed for the oak tree. Due to his trousers still pulled down, he fell over.
“And pull your pants up first!” Simon snapped.
Despite being hard working and trustworthy, George was never the brightest candle on the dinner table. After pulling his pants up, he went behind the giant oak tree.
Simon approached his wife. “You were right. Nothing like cool fresh water to make us feel good. Even though we don’t have any burns.”
A worried Anne smiled, hoping to hide her nervousness. “Great. Now, where do you think we should go? I hear there’s a lot of travel requirements in York and we can –”
“Anything you want to tell us, dear?” Simon interrupted. “About how we survived?”
Anne tried her hardest to hide her magic powers from her family and prevent them knowing about her true self ever since she met and married Simon, but deep down she knew she couldn’t keep her secret from anyone always. She never told anyone she was a sorceress due to the fact that someone, including a member from her family, could spill the beans. She assumed that was why the king was after her. She might have healed too many people with her undiscovered and unexplained magic that someone or a lot of people must have started to notice.
She sighed. “Very well. The thing is, I, uh, am a –”
Then they h
eard screaming coming from the oak tree. George was running back to them.
“Is little George scared of spiders?” Victoria teased. Then she along with her family saw it wasn’t a spider that scared him, but a royal soldier!
“Run!” yelled Anne. “Split up!”
Victoria grabbed Henrietta’s arm and they tried to run into the forest, but a volley of arrows stopped them, causing them to be arrested.
Simon tried to throw rocks at the soldiers coming to him, but he was knocked out on the head by a giant rock held by a soldier behind himself.
George dived into the lake and tried to swim, but never having took a single lesson in his life – as his whole family who never wanted anything to do with water apart from collecting it for drinking and bathing; they were never even fish lovers – he was drowning and that made him a very easy catch for the soldiers.
Carrying baby Matthew, Anne was running in the woods. They came to a pile of fallen rocks. She turned around and saw a group of soldiers gaining on her.
“Found her!” one soldier cried.
“Be careful!” warned another soldier. “And remember: don’t just wound her; kill her!”
They armed their crossbows and aimed at her. She just hugged her baby, closed her eyes and pointed to the rocks.
“Fi –” Then the leader of the group was hit by a thrown rock. As were the rest of the soldiers by a landslide of small yet tough rocks.
Anne opened her eyes and was pleased to see that her powers had successfully knocked them down with rocks. They just laid there unconscious with their massive bleedings and painful bruises.
Then baby Matthew was snatched out of her hands and she was fallen to the ground. She got back on her feet and charged for Captain Tarton, but immediately stopped when he held a knife at Matthew’s throat.
“You try anything and your baby will only have had five months of life,” Tarton warned.
The Cult of Kishpu Page 32