Sir Thursday

Twenty-three

ARTHUR FOUND A sergeant waiting for him. It felt strange to be saluted by him instead of being shouted at, but it was a pleasant kind of strange. Arthur thought he would quickly get used to being an officer. The sergeant led him down a winding stair to a vast, echoing armoury that occupied a cavern hewn from the rock under the Star Fort. There were racks and racks of weapons and armour, in eight rows that each stretched for at least a hundred yards. The eleven Piper's children were clattering about, collecting their equipment. They were watched with resigned suspicion by three grizzled Denizen Armourer Sergeants. One of the sergeants, catching sight of Arthur and his new badges of rank, shouted, "Stand fast!"

The Piper's children stood at attention, but not very fast or very smartly. One of them was even on the brink of slouching. Arthur ignored this.

"As you were," he called. "Carry on. Corporal Blue!"

Suzy appeared from behind a rack of bell-barrelled musketoons. She had a savage-sword buckled onto a wide, non-regulation leather belt. On the cross-belts above, she carried four small Nothing-powder pistols in holsters.

Arthur gestured at her to go back behind another rack, then joined her there, where they were shielded from the others by a line of eight-foot-high arrow shields known as pavises.

"Arthur, I've got the pocket!" whispered Suzy. She tapped her tunic.

"The pocket? My shirt pocket?" asked Arthur, taken aback. He'd been about to tell her about Sir Thursday. "You mean the one used to grow the Skinless Boy?"

"Well, I ain't talking about just any pocket," said Suzy. "Do you want it now? I reckon you can stick it in that spike thing, if it's made of Nothing."

"Yes," Arthur said quickly. He held out his hand. "But how did you get it? Did Leaf … is my family all right?"

"Dunno." Suzy rummaged around inside her tunic and pulled out a clear plastic box with the scrap of material in it. "Leaf got the pocket, but she couldn't get back to the House. She telephoned from your home, and I nipped through the Seven Dials, but by the time I got there that brain fungus had taken her over. I didn't have time to stick around, so I flew into the Front Door. Only I got stopped by Superior Saturday's Noon, who would have had my guts for garters if the Lieutenant Keeper, bless his white hair, hadn't lobbed in –"

"I'll have to get the full story later," Arthur interrupted. He was desperate to hear all the details, but he had to concentrate on the problems immediately at hand. "We've only got a few minutes. Sir Thursday knows who I am. He's ordered me not to free the Will, which I think is in that cap badge he wears. The snake. And the Key is the sword."

Suzy scratched her head. "That's a bit of a poser. I thought he'd be the sort who'd just cut your head off."

"He follows orders and regulations," said Arthur. "But I reckon if I show any insubordination he will kill me. Besides, I think he's planning to get me killed anyway, during this attack on the spike."

"He's bound to," agreed Suzy, which wasn't very encouraging. "What are you going to do?"

Arthur looked around to check that no one had come within hearing distance.

"The Will spoke to me, in my head. It said it could free itself if Sir Thursday is sufficiently distracted. Once it's free, I guess it can help me get the Key. Only … I have to admit, even if I do get the Key and the Will helps, I'm a bit … nervous … about taking on Sir Thursday."

"I know what you mean," said Suzy.

"Also, since I've been ordered not to try to free the Will, I can't even try to distract Sir Thursday myself," said Arthur.

"Why not?" asked Suzy. "Just disobey orders. I do it all the time, with Old Primey."

"I don't think I can," Arthur explained. "I can feel a sort of pressure in my head when I think about disobeying orders, and find it hard to even imagine going against a direct order from Sir Thursday. I think it's from recruit school, and it's gotten even worse since I was commissioned. That must be why Sir Thursday made me an officer."

"I'll distract him," said Suzy. She had a thoughtful look in her eyes. "I reckon I've had so much practice disobeying orders I can manage."

"It's not as simple as that," said Arthur hurriedly. "We have to wait until Sir Thursday has destroyed the Nothing spike. If it isn't destroyed, we won't have a chance against the New Nithlings … though now that I think about it … "

"What?" Suzy took a power-spear from a rack and mimed throwing it, to test its weight. Arthur ducked as she swung it around but kept talking.

"I wonder if anyone has tried talking to the New Nithlings and their commander," said Arthur. "I know they're the enemy, but they're not like normal Nithlings that just want to kill and destroy. Who knows what these ones really want? Maybe I could negotiate with them."

"Negotiate with Nithlings?" asked Suzy. "You can't negotiate with Nithlings –" "Five minutes!" called the sergeant who'd shown Arthur to the armoury. "Five minutes!"

"Five minutes!" repeated Arthur. "I'd better get ready."

He ran over to a rack of Legionary armour and, after a moment's hesitation, pulled out a junior centurion's bronzed cuirass rather than the segmented armour of an ordinary Legionary. He put it on, and wedged the plastic box with the sorcerous pocket into the sheath under the armhole of his cuirass, meant to hold a last-resort dagger. "Can you get me a savage-sword, Suzy? One of the medium-sized ones."

"Yes, sir!" said Suzy, snapping a salute.

"You don't have to –"Arthur started to say. He stopped when he saw Suzy's eyeline. She was looking over his shoulder. At the same time, someone shouted, "Atten-hut!"

Arthur spun around, cuirass straps flapping loose. Sir Thursday had entered the armoury. He was still wearing his scarlet Regimentals but had on an iron Legionary helmet instead of a beret, without the badge. He was holding a very long, broad sword that Arthur instantly knew was the Fourth Key. He could feel its power through his bones, a kind of shivery ache that travelled from his fingers to his backbone and down his legs.

The sword had a very wide hilt and handle, so it could be swung with two hands … or by one if the wielder was very strong. There was a decorative metal snake wound around the plain brass hilt. All in all, the sword was a much larger twin to the one that had been on Sir Thursday's cap badge.

"Mister Green!" snapped Sir Thursday. "Fall the troops in and check their equipment."

"Yes, sir!"

Arthur hurriedly fastened the cuirass straps up under his arms, buckled on the savage-sword that Suzy handed him, and slapped on an officer's helmet, complete with its scarlet horsehair crest. For a few seconds after that he wasn't sure what to do. Then he remembered what the officers always did: Tell a sergeant to take care of it. He looked around and located the closest Piper's child sergeant, a Borderer with three black chevrons on her arm. Arthur quickly marched over to her.

"What's your name, Sergeant?"

"Quicksilver," said the sergeant. "Sir."

"You'll be the troop … platoon … whatever-we-are sergeant, Sergeant," said Arthur. He was a bit flustered, talking to a sergeant like this, after his weeks in recruit school on the receiving end of orders. "Have everyone fall in, and we'll both check their equipment."

"Very good, sir," said the girl. She looked quite a lot like Suzy, Arthur noticed. She had the same kind of narrow face, though Sergeant Quicksilver had very short black hair and her eyes were brown. "Suggest we call the unit a raiding party, sir."

"Good – carry on, Sergeant," said Arthur. That was what officers said when they didn't know what to do.

"Raiding part-eeeee!" yelled Quicksilver. "Fall in! One rank!"

The Piper's children quickly formed up, automatically sorting themselves into line in order of height and shuffling sideways to get the right separation, measured by holding out a clenched fist against the shoulder of the soldier to the right. They were an odd-looking bunch. Nearly all of them had combined different kinds of armour, weapons, and equipment from the various standard items used by soldiers of the Regiment, Legion, Horde, or the Borderers. Arthur realised that all of them except for him had at least two weapons, and often three or four. He also realised that none of the Artillerists had volunteered, which perhaps explained why that unit was called the Moderately Honourable Artillery Company.

"Raiding party ready for inspection, sir!"

Arthur exchanged salutes with Quicksilver, then walked along the line, looking over each soldier. If he'd felt more confident he would have commented on their weapons or equipment, but instead he just asked their names. He didn't feel like a real officer, but even as a fellow soldier he wanted to know who they were. After the battle at Fort Transformation, he knew that at least some of them would probably not be coming back. He wanted to know the names of his comrades, and he tried to fix their faces in his mind as well, so he would have something to remember if he survived the coming battle and they did not.

He repeated the names in his head as they were spoken, memorising them. He'd always had an excellent memory, particularly for words and music.

The eight Piper's children apart from himself, Suzy, Fred and Quicksilver were Gluepot, Yellowbristle, Awning, Jazebeth, Halfcut, Sable, Fineold, and Ermine. They didn't tell him their first names. Four were girls and four were boys, and they looked between the ages of nine and thirteen.

At the end of the line, Arthur wheeled around and marched over to Sir Thursday, who was waiting patiently. Again, there was an exchange of salutes as Arthur declared the raiding party ready. Sir Thursday nodded, then marched over to address the soldiers directly.

"I will enter the Improbable Stair first," announced Sir Thursday. "You will bring up the rear, Mister Green. The soldier following me will hold the back of my belt, and the soldier behind him his belt, and so on. If anyone lets go, he or she will fall out of the Improbable Stair wherever we happen to be at that instant, and anyone holding on will also go. Therefore it is essential that everyone keep a good grip.

"The Improbable Stair is … improbable … so though we are travelling a very short distance within the House, it is possible that we may emerge upon a landing of the Stair, which may be anywhere and anywhen. If this occurs, do not let go! We shall embark upon the Stair again immediately. No one must let go until I give the order. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir!" shouted the raiding party.