Keys To The Kingdom_ Sir Thursday Part 16

Chapter Twenty-two

Arthur was too recent a product of recruit school. Even as his mind tried to tell him to think about it, his legs reacted like a galvanized frog to the wo rd of command. He took one pace forward. So did Fred and, after a slight hesi tation, Suzy. Peering across from the corner of his eye, Arthur could see at least another ten had stepped forward too. But that meant half the Piper's ch ildren hadn't volunteered.

"Dismiss the rest," ordered Sir Thursday. "Get them out of my sight! If any of them hold rank, strip it from them! And find some stars for Mister Green. "

As the RSM bellowed commands at the non-volunteers, the Trustee paced to t he narrow slit window and looked out. Arthur couldn't see what he saw, but since it was a westward-facing window and they were high up, it was likel y to be a huge host of New Nithlings, preparing for another a.s.sault on the outer bastions.

Arthur was probably going to see a lot of New Nithlings soon. But he was l ess worried about that than he was about Sir Thursday. Anyone capable of t he berserk rage he'd just displayed after merely talking about something t hat made him angry was dangerous to be around. Even if you weren't the Rig htful Heir, intent on removing him from his position and taking his Key.

No sign of the Key anyway, thought Arthur. Or the Will, for that matter. The Key is probably a weapon, I would think. The Will could be anywhere, maybe not even in this demesne of the House.

"Mister Green's stars, sir," said the RSM to Sir Thursday, interrupting Arth ur's train of thought. The sergeant-major handed Sir Thursday a small velvet box.

"Four paces forward please, Second Lieutenant Green," said Sir Thursday. A rthur marched forward and halted. Sir Thursday came up close, opened the b ox, and took out two diamond-shaped badges of gold. He pressed them to the epaulettes on Arthur's shoulders, which instantly turned black and grew g old b.u.t.tons, the "stars" st.i.tching themselves in near his shoulders.

"Congratulations," said Sir Thursday. "You will be my second-in-command fo r this a.s.sault on the spike. Now, stand to my left and two paces behind me . You can't go back in the ranks now."

Arthur marched around and stood at attention behind Sir Thursday. Suzy slow ly dipped one eyelid in what might have been a wink. Fred stared at a point above Arthur's head and the other Piper's children looked directly at him without apparently seeing him.

Now that he was able to see them, Arthur noticed that several of them were c orporals, and there were even two sergeants. They would not be happy to disc over that he was really only a partially trained recruit with one battle und er his belt and that after a mere six weeks of training.

"My plan is straightforward," said Sir Thursday. "We will emerge as close to the spike as is possible. I will need several minutes to destroy it and mus t not be interrupted in that time. You will hold off any enemy that may inte rfere. When the spike is destroyed, we will return via the Improbable Stair to the Citadel. Given that we will have complete surprise, we have a very go od chance of success. Any questions?"

One of the sergeants, a serious-looking boy with flaxen hair and what appea red to be a painted-on yellow mustache, snapped to attention and raised his hand.

"May we equip ourselves with our choice of weapons, sir?"

"The central armory is at your disposal," said Sir Thursday. "Nothing-powd er weapons included. Though I must ask that you do not overburden yourselv es. I cannot carry a dozen soldiers and a cannon up the Improbable Stair."

He smiled to show this was a jest, and there was a ripple of dutiful laughter . Arthur smiled too, a bit late, but the smile was wiped off his face as Suzy snapped to attention and raised her hand.

No, Suzy! thought Arthur. Don't ask him anything that'll make him mad!

"Sir, this spike. It's made of Nothing? A lot of Nothing?"

"Yes," said Sir Thursday. "I believe I already said that."

Don't say anything more! Since Arthur was behind Sir Thursday, he made a qu ick zipping motion with his hand over his mouth, only to turn it into an od d little nose-scratch as he saw the RSM's eyes flicker in his direction.

Wisely, and for possibly the first time since Arthur had met her, Suzy held h er tongue.

"Any other questions?" asked Sir Thursday. There was barely repressed men ace in his voice. He did not want any more questions. He wanted instant, unthinking obedience.

Arthur shivered. He would not want to be the bearer of bad news to Sir Thu rsday. Or any news for that matter, since it would be impossible to know h ow the Trustee would react.

There were no more questions.

"Sergeant-Major McLameth, carry on!" snapped Sir Thursday. "Second Lieu tenant Green, follow me!"

Arthur looked at Suzy. She rolled her eyes up several times but he had no i dea what this meant. Fred, on the other hand, gave him a smile when the RSM wasn't looking, the smile of someone who is pleased by the success of a fr iend.

I hope Fred doesn't get killed, thought Arthur as he marched after Sir Thurs day. He doesn't really know what he's getting into, with his dreams of being a general. That one battle, we were shielded from the worst and it was stil l awful "Marshal Noon's study," said Sir Thursday, opening the door to a smaller r oom.

Noon's study was a surprisingly small room, only thirty feet long by fifty feet wide. To Arthur it looked more like an armory than someone's study, as every wall was bedecked with weapons. Interspersed with the weapons wer e paintings and etchings of martial scenes, battles and skirmishes with Ni thlings. All of them featured the same red-haired, debonair Denizen who Ar thur understood must be Thursday's Noon.

There was a large mahogany desk supported on three pedestals in the middle of the room. The desktop was bare, save for a gold and ivory-inlaid marshal 's baton right in the middle.

"There are some matters we need to speak of, Second Lieutenant Green," sa id Sir Thursday. "Or perhaps I should say, Second Lieutenant Penhaligon?"

"That is my real name, sir," said Arthur. He stood at attention, but his eyes flickered to the walls. If Sir Thursday attacked him, he would spring that w ay, grab that savage-sword off its pegs there "I did not plan to draft you," said Sir Thursday. "Indeed, I did not know ab out it until the recruiting officer made his report through his chain of com mand. He should have come straight to me, of course. He is Private Crosshaw now."

After the furniture-demolishing episode I can see why he didn't go straight to you. I bet no one ever does if they can avoid it.

"As soon as you were drafted and became one of my soldiers, I was limited i n what actions I might take against you," Sir Thursday continued. He began to pace around the room, but he kept looking back at Arthur. "But then it o ccurred to me that you were similarly limited in what you might do to relea se the Will and claim the Fourth Key. You see, Arthur, we find ourselves in a curious position.

"I am a soldier. Even though I command the Glorious Army of the House, I a m not the ultimate commander-in-chief. The Architect was, and when she dis appeared I was convinced that Lord Sunday had the proper authority to a.s.su me this role, with Superior Sat.u.r.day as his deputy. Sat.u.r.day pa.s.sed on Sun day's orders for me to take a portion of the Will and hide it and to a.s.sum e custodianship of the Key. As always, I followed those orders. Until I he ar otherwise from Lord Sunday or his deputy, those remain my orders."

He paused and took a clockwork ax from the wall. Arthur tensed, ready to gr ab a weapon to defend himself, but Sir Thursday didn't move to attack. He s tarted to bend the haft of the ax backwards and forwards, even though it wa s made of gravity-condensed steel. The ax's clockwork mechanism shrieked in protest as the cogs and gears within the haft were bent, and the flywheel at the end of the haft burned itself to a stop, smoke wafting around Sir Th ursday's arms.

"I have followed those orders for the last ten thousand years," said Sir Th ursday, speaking through gritted teeth. "Even though the Will constantly se eks to escape and is always complaining and scheming and I can never never rest!"

The ax broke apart and springs richocheted around the room. Arthur ducked r eflexively but immediately stood at attention again.

"I can never rest, for if I rest, the Will may escape," continued Sir Thursd ay. "It makes me a little irritable. But I have my orders. So you see, Lieut enant, I am not going to release the Will and I am not going to give you the Key until I am directly ordered to do so. Which, though I do not have a lot of communication with the Upper House, seems extremely unlikely."

Sir Thursday brushed his hands to remove the last bits of powdered metal an d stalked over to Arthur, leaning close.

"You may have plans, Arthur, to try to free the Will yourself. But you are not Arthur Penhaligon here, Master of the Lower House, the Far Reaches, a nd the Border Sea. You are a commissioned officer in my army and I am orde ring you to do nothing to free the Will. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," said Arthur.

"Disobeying orders on active service is considered mutiny," said Sir Thursd ay. "For which the penalty is death. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Then the matter is concluded, at least for the remainder of your service. " Sir Thursday's mouth curved up on one side, in what he probably imagined was a grin. "Much can happen in ninety-nine years, MisterGreen."

"Yes, sir!" said Arthur, thinking, More like the next twenty-four hours. You' re going to get me killed on this suicide mission.

"You had best join the a.s.sault unit and prepare yourself," said Sir Thursday . "We shall enter the Improbable Stair in eighteen minutes. Dismiss!"

Arthur saluted and did an about-turn. But as he spun around on his heel, he heard a distant voice speaking directly into his mind. It was very faint but clear, and he recognized the tone. All the Parts of the Will had a kind of monomaniacal directness, even in mental speech.

Arthur, I am here, hound to the Key. I can free myself if Sir Thursday's atte ntion and power are sufficiently diverted.

Arthur gave no sign he had been contacted. He continued marching, his mind juggling many plans, fears, and notions, constantly dropping, picking up, and throwing them about.

To hear what was said and to speak to his mind, the Will must have been in the room with Sir Thursday. It said it was bound to the Key, so that must h ave been there as well. But Sir Thursday carried no visible weapons. He wor e a private's uniform but without a cartridge bag or bayonet frog to put an ything in.

But there was that badge, Arthur thought. That weirdly oversized badge on his cap. A sword with a snake wound around the hilt

Chapter Twenty-three

Arthur found a sergeant waiting for him. It felt strange to be saluted by h im instead of being shouted at, but it was a pleasant kind of strange. Arth ur thought he would quickly get used to being an officer. The sergeant led him down a winding stair to a vast, echoing armory that occupied a cavern h ewn from the rock under the Star Fort. There were racks and racks of weapon s and armor, in eight rows that each stretched for at least a hundred yards . The eleven Piper's children were clattering about, collecting their equip ment. They were watched with resigned suspicion by three grizzled Denizen A rmorer Sergeants. One of the sergeants, catching sight of Arthur and his ne w badges of rank, shouted, "Stand fast!"

The Piper's children stood at attention, but not very fast or very smartly. O ne 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-barreled musketoons. She had a sav age-sword buckled onto a wide, nonregulation leather belt. On the cross-belts above, she carried four small Nothing-powder pistols in holste rs.

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 arro w 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 Skinl ess 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 plast ic box with the sc.r.a.p of material in it. "Leaf got the pocket, but she coul dn't get back to the House. She telephoned from your home, and I nipped thr ough the Seven Dials, but by the time I got there that brain fungus had tak en her over. I didn't have time to stick around, so I flew into the Front D oor. Only I got stopped by Superior Sat.u.r.day's Noon, who would have had my guts for garters if the Lieutenant Keeper, bless his white hair, hadn't lob bed in "

"I'll have to get the full story later," Arthur interrupted. He was desperat e to hear all the details, but he had to concentrate on the problems immedia tely 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 we ars. 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 w ho'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 ki lled anyway, during this attack on the spike."

"He's bound to," agreed Suzy, which wasn't very encouraging. "What are yo u 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 Thursd ay 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 bitnervous 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 m y head when I think about disobeying orders, and find it hard to even imagin e 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 wh y Sir Thursday made me an officer."

"I'll distract him," said Suzy. She had a thoughtful look in her eyes. "I rec kon 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 comman der," said Arthur. "I know they're the enemy, but they're not like normal N ithlings that just want to kill and destroy. Who knows what these ones real ly want? Maybe I could negotiate with them."

"Negotiate with Nithlings?" asked Suzy. "You can't negotiate with Nithling s "

"Five minutes!" called the sergeant who'd shown Arthur to the armory. "Fiv e minutes!"

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

He ran over to a rack of Legionary armor and, after a moment's hesitation, pulled out a junior centurion's bronzed cuira.s.s rather than the segmented a rmor of an ordinary Legionary. He put it on, and wedged the plastic box wit h the sorcerous pocket into the sheath under the armhole of his cuira.s.s, me ant 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, cuira.s.s straps flapping loose. Sir Thursday had entered the armory. He was still wearing his scarlet Regimentals but had on an iro n 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 co uld feel its power through his bones, a kind of shivery ache that traveled 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 ha nds or by one if the wielder was very strong. There was a decorative metal snake wound around the plain bra.s.s 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 e quipment."

"Yes, sir!"

Arthur hurriedly fastened the cuira.s.s straps up under his arms, buckled on t he savage-sword that Suzy handed him, and slapped on an officer's helmet, co mplete with its scarlet horsehair crest. For a few seconds after that he was n'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 q uickly 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 Art hur. He was a bit fl.u.s.tered, talking to a sergeant like this, after his week s 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 no ticed. 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!"