Borgon the Axeboy and the Prince's Shadow
Page 5
‘I asked Borgon to come to the palace, but he refused,’ said Madreesh.
‘Is that right, Borgon?’ asked Fulma.
Borgon nodded.
‘Why would he do that?’ demanded Fulgut.
Madreesh was staring at the pie.
‘Your camel-hump pie might have something to do with it,’ she said. Her long nose was twitching hungrily. ‘We never get anything like that at the palace.’
‘They only get to eat nuts and roots,’ said Borgon. ‘And they have perfume baths.’
‘What?’ gasped Fulgut. ‘That’s disgusting! I wouldn’t let my son go to that palace if you begged me.’
‘There you are, Fulgut!’ laughed Fulma. ‘You said the palace wouldn’t let Borgon in, but it turns out it’s you who wouldn’t let him go!’
‘Yes, well … maybe that’s true,’ said Fulgut sheepishly. He looked down at his new sock and wiggled his toes. ‘Sorry if I was a bit rude,’ he said to the dame.
‘That’s quite all right,’ sighed Madreesh. She was still looking at the pie. ‘Well, I’d better be going. I’ve got my nuts and roots waiting for me.’
‘Hang on,’ said Fulgut.
He quickly took a great spoon and scooped a huge dollop of pie on to a palm leaf. He held it out towards the dame.
‘I can’t,’ said Madreesh. ‘I’m not allowed to.’
‘Go on,’ said Fulma. ‘Take it.’
The dame’s nose took a deep sniff.
‘Scorpion gravy!’ she gasped. ‘I haven’t had that in years.’
‘Then ride back slowly,’ grinned Borgon. ‘You can eat it on the way.’
‘We won’t tell if you don’t!’ laughed Fulgut.
Madreesh quickly took the pie, then stepped back up on to her chariot.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘And especially thank you, Borgon. It was the best Shadow Trials we’ve ever had!’
The dame gave her horse a slap on the bottom, then with a smile and a wave she was gone.
Fulma looked at Borgon with a puzzled expression on her face.
‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘You won the competition, so why did you ask her to bring these things for us?’
‘Because when you wake up tomorrow, you’ll have a comb and Dad will have his other sock,’ said Borgon.
‘So what?’ said Fulma.
‘So then you can stop worrying about the stupid things, and you can concentrate on being proper barbarians again!’ said Borgon.
‘Ho ho ho!’ laughed Fulgut. ‘You’re right, son. And I’m very proud of you.’
‘I still think it’s a shame that you didn’t get a prize for yourself,’ said Fulma.
‘Oh I got the best prize of all,’ said Borgon.
He opened his bag and a little head popped out.
‘Quammy!’
Who’s the Mummy?
As the evening fire died down to a warm red glow, the little duck toddled round the cave to check on everybody. The big old savage was snoring away with his feet warmly wrapped in his socks. The lady had dozed off by the mirror having tried out twenty new hairstyles, and the small chubby barbarian was stuffed full of pie and lying fast asleep by the fire.
The little duck needed to sleep too. She had started the day inside an egg, then ran round the mountains, then helped to fight a giant bear and finally she’d had some scorpion gravy for tea. Not many little ducks have a first day like that, so no wonder she was tired!
She knew that she should be looking for a nest and a mummy duck, but it didn’t matter because she knew where she would be warm and safe. She toddled over to where her new friend was lying. As softly as she could, she climbed up on to Borgon’s head and nestled down in his hair.
‘Quammy,’ she said happily, then she closed her eyes and went to sleep.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
KJARTAN POSKITT is the well-loved author of many hilarious books for children including Agatha Parrot and the Murderous Maths series, translated into over 30 languages. With a background in children’s television, he is a tireless and brilliant performer.
ABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR
PHILIP REEVE is an award-winning illustrator and author whose books have won the Carnegie, Guardian and Smarties Prizes.
ALSO IN THIS SERIES
Borgon the Axeboy and the Dangerous Breakfast
Copyright
First published in 2015
by Faber & Faber Limited
Bloomsbury House
74–77 Great Russell Street
London WC1B 3DA
This ebook edition first published in 2015
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Text © Kjartan Poskitt, 2015
Illustrations © Philip Reeve, 2015
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A CIP record for this book is available from the British Library
978–0571–30736–4