Herbie Brennan - Ruler of the Realm

‘I note, sirs, that the gate is wide open and the estate appears to be unguarded,’ Kitterick said.

Pyrgus turned to him frowning. ‘What would you deduce from that, Kitterick?’

‘From our knowledge of Lord Hairstreak, I would say that appearances may be deceptive.’

‘There’ll be guards,’ Henry predicted grimly. ‘Just maybe not at the gate.’

‘So do we go in or what?’ asked Pyrgus.

‘We go in,’ said Henry firmly. ‘Cautiously and stealthily, hiding in the bushes. We creep up to the house and peer through the windows until we find Blue. If there’s the slightest hint of danger, we attack. We will succeed due to the element of surprise. Once we have her safe, you can flatten the whole place the way you flattened that glue factory. Spell bombs or whatever it was.’

‘Alternatively, sir, we could simply walk down the avenue.’

They both turned to look at him.

Kitterick said, ‘It might be argued that we are all here in a precautionary capacity. On the face of things, Her Majesty seems to have embarked on a diplomatic mission. We have – as yet – no reason to believe she is in any degree of personal peril. Should we approach covertly, and be discovered, Lord Hairstreak might appear justified in claiming we were engaged in espionage. On the other hand, an open approach has the benefit of complete transparency. If we are halted by guards – as I assume we will be at some point – we simply say we are a part of Her Majesty’s retinue. We will then be escorted to the mansion where we can easily determine Lord Hairstreak’s attitude towards the whole business. If we are not – halted by guards, that is – then we present ourselves at the front door and request audience with His Lordship and Her Majesty. Either way, we avoid all possibility of a diplomatic incident, show solidarity with Her Majesty, remain on hand to protect her physically, should that need arise, and simultaneously send a clear message to Lord Hairstreak that Her Majesty’s whereabouts are known and any action he might be tempted to take against her would have… consequences. Thus it would seem that walking down the avenue appears to be the most fruitful course of action.’

After a moment, Pyrgus shook his head. ‘Oh, no, that’s rubbish.’

Henry said, ‘Complete nonsense. Wouldn’t entertain it.’

They were creeping through the bushes when the first of Hairstreak’s trackers took out Pyrgus.

Hairstreak eased his thumb back off the red button. ‘That flyer is showing the royal crest,’ he murmured, as much to himself as Pelidne.

‘Are we expecting an emissary from the palace?’ Pelidne asked.

‘No, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t sent one.’

‘What are your orders, sir?’

Hairstreak pulled off his goggles. There was a thoughtful expression on his face. ‘Standard procedure, Pelidne. Have our visitor escorted to the landing pad and treated with every courtesy. Alert me once his identity is established. If he has legitimate palace credentials, try to find out the purpose of the visit.’

‘Then stall him?’

‘Yes, exactly,’ Hairstreak said. ‘Offer him refreshment, get him drunk – whatever. Report back to me at once with any information. I shall be in my office.’

‘And the flyer, sir?’

‘Search it thoroughly once the pilot is clear.’

Pelidne hesitated. ‘A royal flyer will have security spells in place. There would be no way of concealing the fact we’d searched it.’

Hairstreak shrugged. ‘They’ll expect us to search it – we’d be fools not to.’

‘Yes, sir.’ As Hairstreak pushed past him, Pelidne asked, ‘The security system, sir?’

‘What about it?’

‘Shall I leave it armed?’

‘Of course. Our visitor isn’t likely to wander. And if he does, he deserves anything he gets,’ Lord Hairstreak told him. He stood up. ‘Contact my office once the craft is down.’

But he never reached his office. Halfway down the stairs to the main hall an excited servant caught up with him.

‘Sir,’ she said breathlessly, ‘Lord Hairstreak, sir. It’s Her Majesty!’ Hairstreak turned to stare at her, his face expressionless. The girl waved her arms in something approaching panic. ‘It’s the Queen, sir. Outside, sir. Come in a flyer, sir, fastest landing I ever seen. Queen Blue, sir. What’ll we do, sir?’

Hairstreak stared at her for a long moment. ‘Queen Blue?’ he said. ‘That flyer was piloted by Queen Blue?’

‘Yes, sir. The Queen, sir. She’s standing outside now, sir. What’ll we do?’

Hairstreak smiled chillingly. ‘Get out of my way, girl. I shall welcome Her Majesty personally.’

‘That was the worst flyer landing ever,’ Flapwazzle whispered.

‘Were you frightened?’ Blue asked.

‘Petrified. You’re the scariest queen since Quercusia.’

‘I had to get out from under the missiles,’ Blue said, grinning.

‘Might have been more difficult if he’d fired them.’ Flapwazzle made a peculiar movement and it took her a moment to work out that he was scratching himself. ‘I’d like to know why he didn’t.’

‘Maybe I’ll get the chance to ask him.’ Blue said. ‘Now hush – there’s somebody coming.’

She was expecting the servant girl again, but the door swung back to reveal Hairstreak himself. He was a small man, dressed, as usual, in black. He made an elaborate bow and contorted his features into a smile.

‘Your Majesty,’ he said fulsomely, ‘if you had let me know you were coming I would have made proper preparations.’

‘Like shutting down your ground-to-air missiles?’ Blue asked innocently.

Hairstreak smiled slightly. ‘Standard security precautions, I’m afraid. Regrettable, of course, but in these troubled times…’ Something flashed in his eyes as he added, ‘So fortunate they weren’t actually launched.’

‘For me or for you, Uncle?’

‘For us both, my dear.’ He squared his shoulders. ‘But what am I thinking of, leaving you standing on the doorstep? Please come in. You grace my humble home with your presence.’ As he stepped to one side, Blue suddenly noticed a slim young man standing in the shadows behind him. There was nothing untoward about his appearance, but for some reason she shuddered. Hairstreak may have caught the direction of her glance, for he said softly over his shoulder, ‘Pelidne, have the servants prepare a meal for Her Majesty. In the main banquet hall.’

‘That won’t be necessary,’ Blue said quickly. Now they were here, she was very aware she’d set a Countdown in motion. Three days was a good safety margin, but even so there was no sense taking any more time than she needed. ‘This is a just a brief visit. But I would appreciate a few minutes in a secure room.’

‘Of course,’ Hairstreak said smoothly.

He led her down a corridor beside the main staircase and opened a heavy door. The chamber beyond was tiny and furnished only with two chairs and a small table, but it smelled strongly of privacy spells.

‘The matter is confidential,’ Blue said firmly when the Pelidne person tried to follow.

Hairstreak shrugged slightly and gestured with his head. Pelidne left at once. Throughout it all he had not spoken a single word.

As Hairstreak closed the door he said, ‘I take it this concerns the offer I sent by way of your brother?’

‘Yes,’ Blue said.

‘Then let us sit and discuss it.’ He hesitated momentarily. ‘Perhaps your endolg would be more comfortable on the floor than squashed up against the chair back.’

Blue froze. For a second she considered trying to bluff it out – Endolg? What endolg? – but Flapwazzle said audibly, ‘He knows I’m here, Blue,’ and slid out from under her shirt.