The Great Troll War

The Princess removed the Helping Hand^™ from her wrist and placed it into sleep mode. A Helping Hand^™ was a useful magical gadget that was in effect a disembodied hand that could be utilised to help drive a car with heavy steering, reaching up to paint places you couldn’t reach and even playing accompaniment on a double bass. Since the Princess had lost her hand in hand-to-hand combat, she had come to rely on it, even though it was several sizes too big, was male, hairy, and had ‘no more pies’ tattooed on the back.

The doors to the ballroom opened at 2.20 and at 2.30 almost everyone was in place. At 2.34 Feldspar, the second Dragon, arrived, and although seemingly quite frightening, with scales and fangs and the occasional breath of fire – especially when excited – both the Dragons were so utterly non-Dragon and friendly that no one had much fear of them.

‘Sorry,’ he said apologetically, ‘I was conducting an aerial survey of the neighbouring Kingdoms. Have I missed anything?’

‘We were waiting for you,’ I said.

‘Oh,’ he muttered, then tried to get to his seat, but not without some difficulty. Both Dragons were about the size of a largish Shetland pony by now, barely one twentieth of their adult size, and very clumsy – they were happier in the air, to be honest, or curled up on a sofa binge-watching TV series. I had told them about Bergerac in an unguarded moment, and they now loved the series so much they watched it again and again.

‘Ow!’

‘Sorry.’

Feldspar had trodden on the chief marksman’s foot, and someone was sent to find a bag of frozen peas and some paracetamol. And so, after much apologising, everyone was seated. And at exactly 2.52 p.m., the Sorcerer’s Conclave began.

The Sorcerer’s Conclave

I took the sword Exhorbitus from my back-scabbard and laid it on the table in front of me, I guess to demonstrate the gravity of the meeting. Most enchanted swords had tastelessly overdecorated hilts and highly engraved blades, but Exhorbitus was more simple: perfectly proportioned and with a burnished dull finish and a ruby in the pommel, it was the weapon of a true warrior, to whom flashy presentation means nothing.

‘My name is Jennifer Strange,’ I said, ‘and as Court Mystician to the Kingdom of Snodd and director of the House of Enchantment of Kazam, I think I am best placed to chair this Conclave, although I will hear arguments on why this should not be the case.’

‘Shouldn’t the Ruler of Cornwall be in charge?’ asked Princess Jocaminca, who was clearly still a little chippy over losing her authority. ‘Agreed, it’s one twentieth the size it was, but while it remains unconquered land, the rightful ruler must still have authority.’

‘It’s a good point,’ I said. ‘Tiger, weren’t you looking into this?’

Tiger stood up.

‘All of Cornwall was bought by the Queen of Midlandia as a “second Kingdom” for her to enjoy ruling at the weekends. The Cornish Grand Vizier, charged to look after the Kingdom during the week, was also treating it more like a weekend thing, as was her deputy, the Attorney General, the Chief Judge and even the Minister for Pasties. They just governed as a kind of hobby. In fact, I can’t find a single government job that wasn’t done by someone who lives elsewhere.’

This was, sadly, all too true. After several centuries of weekend rule the indigenous Cornish now worked in a menial capacity beneath their weekending overlords. House prices were so high that the Cornish had to live in abandoned cars in fields until they were priced out of them, too, when ‘living in an abandoned car in a field for the weekend’ became the must-have holiday for Londoners with more money than sense.

‘Is this true?’ asked the Princess.

‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Tiger.

‘My first decree as Ruler of all the Kingdoms,’ she said, ‘will be to seize all land and property in Cornwall owned by anyone who doesn’t live here, and have it redistributed to the Cornish. Make a note, Tiger.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Okay,’ I said, ‘that’s Cornwall sorted. Now: any other objections to me leading this Conclave?’

There were none, so I carried on:

‘Before our discussions begin I would like to observe a minute’s silence for those who did not survive the invasion and gave their lives in the struggle for freedom.’

We bowed our heads in the silence, and once the minute was up, I continued:

‘As you all know the Trolls invaded two weeks ago led by Emperor Urdgg the Needlessly Violent. The invasion was well planned in that their strategy was very, very simple: advance through the UnUnited Kingdoms, killing and eating17 anyone who tried to resist.’