The Great Troll War

‘No problem, can do,’ said Sir Matt, getting up from where he had been on bended knee. ‘I shall do that in a jiffy and be back to claim your hand.’

‘There’s more. Once you’ve found it, you shall leap off singing “God save the Queen!” at the top of your voice.’

‘Could I jump off a lower part of the tallest building?’ he asked. ‘I’m thinking a ground-floor window.’

‘No,’ said the Princess, ‘because otherwise you’d not have enough time to sing: “God save the Queen!” on the way down.’

‘I could sing it very fast,’ said Sir Matt.

‘No, I want it clear and unhurried,’ said the Princess. ‘How far would Sir Matt need to fall to achieve that? Anyone?’

‘Sixty-four feet,’ said Tiger. ‘You’ll be travelling at about forty-three miles per hour when you hit the ground.’

‘That will sting a bit,’ said the Princess. ‘Well, toddle off, then. Let us know when you’ll be jumping so we can come and watch.’

Sir Matt Grifflon muttered something, then left the room. There was a pause and then Tiger started giggling, followed closely by Colin.

‘Do you think he’ll actually do it?’ said the Princess to me.

‘He’ll find any excuse not to. Besides—’

I didn’t get to finish as a pillar of fire opened up in the middle of room, accompanied by a clap of thunder. It was not hot, just dramatic, and in an instant the fire was replaced by two people.

I’d met them both before. One was Miss D’Argento, a woman only a few years older than myself. She was Shandar’s agent, had short bobbed dark hair, was dressed elegantly and carried a clipboard. The other person was tall, good looking and wore a dark suit with mauve pinstripes – which went, oddly, horizontally instead of vertically. He had a youthful bounce to his stride, carried a long cane and had bright green eyes.

It was the Mighty Shandar.

‘This is it!’ said Kevin Zip, suddenly becoming all animated and excited. ‘This is the Something that was about to Happen!’

The Mighty Shandar

‘All those present,’ said Miss D’Argento, ‘take heed and listen: you are now in the presence of Super Ultra Grand Master Sorcerer, mover of mountains, he-who-the-storms-obey, commander of oceans, speaker of tongues, keeper of the sacred spells, creator of beasts, wiser than the ancient ones and purveyor of fine enchantments, no reasonable terms refused, his most powerful, bountiful worshipfulness: the Mighty Shandar.’

She gave a dramatic flourish and a low bow, but if she had thought we would all follow suit, she was to be disappointed. The honorific was long winded, but correct. Technically speaking, all practitioners should be introduced this way, but it just soaked up useful time that might be otherwise spent drinking tea, or chatting. The only one of our bunch who liked this sort of nonsense was Lady Mawgon.

Nonetheless, at least one of us needed to offer the official reply, and since I was Court Mystician, it fell to me.

‘This house welcomes you, O Mighty Shandar, Super Ultra Grand Master Sorcerer, mover of mountains, he-who-the-storms-obey, commander of oceans and keeper of the sacred spells, creator of beasts and wiser than the ancient ones.’

To a sorcerer of Shandar’s power, the correct honorific was all-important. You didn’t get to this level with just skill and hard study. No, you needed ambition, a massive personal ego, a keen sense of entitlement and a streak of vanity a mile wide.

And he had all of them.

In spades.

‘We return your salutations, noble Court Mystician,’ said Miss D’Argento, going into the second line of the official salutation. I think there were four calls and returns in total. ‘Our pledge is peace, our reason here a parler,22 our fingers are bent, there shall be no subterfuge.’

She waited me to return the salutation.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘I don’t know the rest. I’ve never got this far before.’

‘I think you just repeat it back,’ said Colin.

‘You do not,’ said D’Argento indignantly, ‘but if you so require, this person can write it down if you wish.’

Miss D’Argento usually referred to herself in the third person. Out of all her affectations – jet-black suit, constant reference to her clipboard, fashionable indifference – it was the one I liked least. Shandar, however, merely glanced at D’Argento and waved away any objections, so she fell silent while he looked around carefully. His gaze paused briefly on Colin and Feldspar, then on Once Magnificent Boo, Monty Vanguard, the Princess, and finally me. He proffered me a faint glimmer of respect and stepped forward, his footprints remaining aflame for some seconds after he had moved on. That he was the most powerful sorcerer alive today was beyond doubt.