Simon Green - A Hard Day's Knight

“It’s you! It’s really you! You’ve come back, you’ve come back! We’ve been waiting so long for your return, Your Majesty! I mean, I’m just an old hippy in a mouse body, but I’ve read every book about you I could find. And seen all the films! Welcome back, King Arthur!”

The Doormouse pressed his fuzzy face against Arthur’s breast-plate and looked up at him adoringly. Arthur clung to what was left of his dignity.

“Does anyone happen to know whether this mouse I’m holding is male or female?”

The Doormouse let go immediately and scurried backwards to bow repeatedly. “Sorry! Sorry! Got carried away there, a bit. Sometimes I can’t help feeling I’d have been better off as a badger. They handle their emotions so much more properly. King Arthur, what brings you to my humble establishment? Everything I have is yours! Except you can’t actually take anything with you, of course. The Doors don’t move. As such. Am I babbling? It feels like I’m babbling, and that big scary woman is growling at me again.”

“Do you, by any chance, happen to have a Door that will transport us inside Castle Inconnu?” I said.

“Oh poo,” said the Doormouse, his whiskers drooping. “Someone told you.”

“It’s hard to keep a secret in the Nightside,” I said. “Though actually I was guessing. Jerusalem Stark had to get those elves into the castle somehow, and your Doors seemed the safest bet.”

The Doormouse sighed. “Knew that one would come back to bite me on my furry arse. In my defence, he did pay me an awful lot of money.”

Kae glared at the Doormouse. “You created a secret backdoor into Castle Inconnu?”

“I build Doors for people,” the Doormouse said quickly. “What use they put them to is none of my business. I’m only a craftsman. Craftsmouse.”

“You’re about to be a dead craftsmouse,” said Kae. “You’ll make an excellent rug for my office.”

“No, Kae,” said Arthur. “He has agreed to help us. Haven’t you, Sir Mouse?”

Kae was still glaring. “Where’s the Door?”

“In the display area, of course. My Doors are always here. I make them, and people make use of them, but they never leave my shop. Far too dangerous. I do have scruples, you know, even if you can’t see them past all the fur.”

“And when were you intending to inform the London Knights that you possessed a secret backdoor into their Castle?” said Kae.

“I’m almost sure I would have got round to it,” said the Doormouse. “Eventually.”

“Okay, that’s it,” said Kae. “It’s rug time.”

“Take it easy,” I said to Kae. “You can’t expect morality from a mouse.”

“Well quite,” said the Doormouse. “That’s why I became one.”

“Take us to the Door,” I said.

The Doormouse bobbed his head quickly, to all of us, and several times to King Arthur, then scurried away into the deeper recesses of his shop. The Doors were still standing there, in their ranks, waiting to be used. I kept an eye out for one particular Door I’d seen earlier and stopped before it. The others stopped with me. The Doormouse came hurrying back to see what we were all looking at. It was a Door like all the others, except for the brass combination lock in its centre.

“This is the Door that leads to alternate Earths,” I said. “All the different histories, all the ways the Earth might have gone. Can it really open onto any possible Earth, Doormouse?”

“Oh yes. You just have to enter the right co-ordinates. Of course, many of the more extreme iterations are completely uninhabitable, but ... What kind of Earth did you have in mind?”

“A completely empty Earth,” I said. “An Earth where sentient life never did develop, in any form. A living breathing Earth, where only the beasts and the birds flourished.”

“Of course,” said King Arthur. “I see where you’re going. An excellent solution for a very tricky problem.”

The Doormouse produced an impressively large book from somewhere about his person and flipped rapidly through the pages with his furry paws, muttering querulously to himself. He finally stopped at one particular page, ran a fuzzy finger down a long list of entries, then squeaked happily. He made the book disappear and advanced on the Door, muttering a bunch of numbers under his breath, before spinning the brass combination lock back and forth with practiced dexterity, then flinging the Door open with a triumphant flourish.

Beyond the Door, endless grasslands stretched away under a perfect blue sky, with no sign of civilisation or cultivation anywhere. A gentle breeze wafted through the Door, smelling of every sunny day we ever dreamed of. I could hear birds singing, and the far-away sounds of animals on the move. But otherwise, it was a very quiet, very peaceful world. We all crowded together, peering through the open Door.

“So peaceful,” said King Arthur. “Like Eden itself, before the Fall, untouched by human hand.”

“What better place for the elves?” I said. “What better place for a new start?”

“If they’ll take it,” said Suzie. “They don’t think like we do or value the things we do. They’re not human.”

“They want the Earth,” said Arthur. “And this is an Earth. Only without all those irritating humans to get in the way. They’ll take it.”

“But if they don’t?” said Kae.

Arthur looked suddenly tired. “You heard Merlin. If the elves cannot be made to see sense ... then raise the Armies of Man and lead them against the elves, until one or other of us is gone forever. I would prefer to avoid that if I can.”

“But would the elves prefer to avoid it?” said Kae. “There is a part of them that has always loved war.”

“They love survival more,” Arthur said shortly.

He gestured sharply to the Doormouse, who quickly shut the Door and spun the brass lock. He looked at King Arthur.

“I can’t recall anyone ever wanting to visit that Earth before. Calm and quiet and peaceful aren’t the kind of things people usually look for in the Nightside.”

“Their loss,” said Arthur. “Understand me, Sir Mouse; no-one is to have access to this Door until I return. Is that clear?”

The Doormouse bobbed his head in a perfect frenzy of agreement. “Of course, Your Majesty, of course. I’ll put an OUT OF ORDER sign on it. Shall we now proceed to the Castle Inconnu Door? We’re almost there, and the other large armoured gentleman is growling at me.”

“Don’t scare the mouse, Kae,” said Arthur. “That’s my job.”

We finally came to the Door, and the Doormouse opened it. Kae led the way through because it was his castle, after all. We appeared in a fairly unremarkable side corridor, with no-one round, and the Door slammed shut behind us and disappeared. Kae growled something under his breath, then led us quickly to the nearest communication point. Which turned out to be a simple office, filled with computers. Arthur was fascinated with all the technology and bumbled around, having a good look and touching things he shouldn’t, while Kae put out a general alert, ordering everyone to appear in the Main Hall, right then, no exceptions. Sir Roland appeared, on the run, and stuck his head through the door. His eyebrows practically jumped off his head when Kae introduced him to King Arthur, and he was down on both armoured knees in a moment, bowing his head to the returned King.

“Up, up, my good friend,” Arthur said easily. “You are my knights, sworn to serve my cause and my dream. I should kneel to you, for keeping it alive all these centuries.”

Sir Roland clambered quickly to his feet again and glared at Kae. “Would it have killed you to have given us a little advance warning? We could have prepared a proper welcome!”