The Great Troll War

It was a good strategy. The news spread quickly and the advancing Trolls found that their propensity for extreme violence and an imaginative flair for human-based recipes was enough to have humans falling over themselves to surrender, and the kings and queens, emperors, dictators, viziers and politburos all eagerly traded their and their family’s lives for the keys to their nation. There was a murmuring at this and I looked around the room. This was meant to be a Sorcerer’s Conclave but there were precious few wizards present. There had been talk of assistance from mainland Europe – they were quite enthusiastic to begin with, but then suddenly remembered they had ‘a long-standing engagement of a pressing nature’ and might have to ‘sit this one out’.

‘Okay,’ I said, ‘before we even begin to discuss tactics, we need to know how we stand as a potential army of resistance. Monty? Tell us what you’ve discovered.’

Monty Vanguard stood up. His once jet-black hair was now snowy white, yet combed in a manner that conveyed the appearance of a bank manager, a look reinforced by the circular horn-rimmed glasses, sensible suit, tidily knotted tie and ever-ready briefcase.

‘As you might have heard,’ he said, ‘a powerful HENRY is currently active, nullifying all spells and rendering sorcerers powerless.’

‘The more we try and damage it, the more powerful it becomes,’ said Once Magnificent Boo, who was sitting on the other side of the Princess. ‘We’ll need to take it out by physical force.’

‘Where is it based?’ I asked.

‘On Dartmoor,’ said Monty. ‘Colin took some aerial pictures. The HENRY is on the site of the TV mast, just near the prison, and surrounded by a forested enchantment – cut a bramble and two instantly grow in its place. If we want to destroy it we’ll need to figure out some sort of countermeasure.’

‘Okay,’ I said, ‘what else?’

Monty consulted his clipboard.

‘Wizard Moobin was busy with the Trench and button telepathy call, so he had Lady Mawgon and Full Price send out the requests for “Terrible Warriors” on the Low Telepathic Waveband to head to Cornwall along with marksmen and women, and anyone expert in fencing. All told, we have an army of just under two thousand.’

‘That’s good,’ I said, taking a deep breath. When we failed to negotiate a deal with the Trolls then force would be inevitable.

Fight – or be eaten.

‘Why didn’t Full Price and Mawgon put out a call for artillery and heavy armoured vehicles?’ asked Once Magnificent Boo.

‘Cannons and tanks require heavy transportation and we didn’t have the time,’ said Lady Mawgon. ‘Rifles are of questionable use as bullets simply make Trolls annoyed – but swords and rapiers are much feared, mostly because the scars can upset their intricate tattoos, of which they are hugely proud.’

‘Warriors are resourceful fighters,’ said Monty. ‘They’ll have a plan up their sleeves.’

‘I agree,’ I said. Since the UnUnited Kingdoms were so often at war, warrior was often a second profession on a part-time basis – when dentistry or carpet-fitting wasn’t bringing in enough cash. ‘Where are their representatives?’

Monty pointed towards where a woman and two men were seated between Tiger and the Mysterious X, who was cosily sealed inside his Kilner jar, his particles sparkling like glow-worms. The representatives gave me a cheery wave while I consulted the register of Conclave attendees, which also listed the number of people they represented.

‘So,’ I said, addressing the Master Fencer, ‘five hundred fencers and swordsmen and women, eh? That’s impressive and, let me tell you, most welcome – at least that gives us something to attack them with.’

‘Ah,’ said the Master Fencer uneasily, ‘I think there might have been a mix-up somewhere. We don’t fence with rapiers and swords, we fence with fenceposts and wire. Lots of us will do hedge-laying as well. There are a few bricklayers too, if you’d prefer a wall. We’re more into keeping cattle and sheep in,’ she added, ‘than keeping Trolls out.’

‘Those five hundred fencers,’ I said, trying to find a positive angle on this, ‘are any of them handy with a sword?’

‘They might be,’ said the Master Fencer, ‘but I know for sure they’re handy with a billhook when it comes to pleaching.18 I could always ask around, if you want.’

I looked at Full Price, who, along with the Lady Mawgon, had sent out the telepathic message. That was the trouble with magic. It often worked literally, and mistakes – or a misspelling – were common. If you were casting an enchantment, there was rarely any wiggle room for mistakes, and secondary spellings were quite common; even the simple incantation that runs temporary traffic lights could accidentally result in a shower of frogs.

‘I’ve never done a low-alpha telepathic hailing,’ said Full Price apologetically. ‘We’re lucky to have got anyone at all.’