someone finds us,” said Esmeralda, tucking crown and key in among the folds of her robes.
They departed, and for the first time, Trundle felt as though he really was meant to have the sword!
T here was a key in the lock on the inside of the guardhouse door. Esmeralda took it out as they left and locked the door behind them. She lifted a cobblestone and placed the key under it while Jack and Trundle kept anxious watch.
“That should give us some time before he’s found,” Esmeralda said, stamping the cobblestone down again.
They made their way back across the courtyard and through an arched doorway into a wide oak-paneled vestibule, hung with the ancient banners of the guilds. A huge notice board displayed the names of every department and division and doctorate and seminary, set alongside a marquetry map of where everything could be found.
“Doctor Augustus Brockwise,” Esmeralda read. “Tower of the Brazen Finials, fifth floor, room 1720.”
Jack perused the map. “Got it!” he said, pointing. “We’re in luck. This is the Tower of the Brazen Wotsits , and by the looks of it, the quickest way to Brockwise’s lair is up those stairs over there.” He pointed over to an elaborate staircase at the far end of the vestibule.
“Excellent,” said Esmeralda. “And remember, we’re just three ordinary workers going about our everyday business, so try to look like we belong here.”
They encountered any number of magisterial badgers and scuttling minions on the way, but no one took any notice of them, and they eventually found themselves outside a large and magnificent oak door. A brass plaque confirmed they had reached their target.
OFFICE OF THE HIGHMOST
CHANCELLOR, PLENIPOTENTIARY,
BAGERIUS MAXIMUS BONCIUS,
DOCTOR AUGUSTUS BROCKWISE
And below, a smaller notice was pinned to the panels:
Do Not Disturb
Esmeralda stepped up to the door and rapped sharply on it.
They waited for a reply.
“Maybe he’s gone out?” suggested Trundle.
Esmeralda knocked again and turned the large brass handle. The door opened with a long-drawn creak of protest.
“Hello?” she called, poking her head around the door. “Anyone—oh!” She pushed the door wider, revealing to Trundle’s and Jack’s eyes a room as long and as lofty as a cathedral. A purple carpet ran the length of the floor, and at the far end—about three hundred feet away—they could just make out a big, dark desk in front of a tall black chair in which someone was seated.
Even more remarkable to the friends than the size of the room were the extraordinary apparatuses and machines and devices and contraptions that lined the walls. They walked along the carpet in subdued awe, the brass and copper and steel and glass mechanisms towering above them; some with swinging pendulums, other with flickering dials or with whirring flywheels and ticking cogs and revolving escapements like the workings of great watches or clocks.
As they approached the desk, they became aware of a new sound—a grumbling, grating noise like distant thunder mixed up with someone sawing wood.
“He’s asleep!” exclaimed Jack.
He was right. Slumped backward in the big black leather chair behind the desk, a portly badger snored away with his face hidden beneath a red silk handkerchief. The handkerchief fluttered and flopped with his breathing.
Apart from a blotter and an inkwell and a pen in its stand, the huge polished desk was entirely clear.
The three friends walked around the desk and stared at the slumbering Highmost Chancellor. He was wrapped in black robes, and there were carpet slippers on his feet, with red pom-poms on the toes.
“What should we do?” whispered Trundle, remembering the sign on the door and not wishing to ignore its instructions.
“Disturb him!” declared Esmeralda. She tugged at the badger’s sleeve. “Hey! Excuse me!” she shouted into his hairy ear. “Wake up, please.”
The badger spluttered and puffed as Esmeralda pulled off the
They departed, and for the first time, Trundle felt as though he really was meant to have the sword!
T here was a key in the lock on the inside of the guardhouse door. Esmeralda took it out as they left and locked the door behind them. She lifted a cobblestone and placed the key under it while Jack and Trundle kept anxious watch.
“That should give us some time before he’s found,” Esmeralda said, stamping the cobblestone down again.
They made their way back across the courtyard and through an arched doorway into a wide oak-paneled vestibule, hung with the ancient banners of the guilds. A huge notice board displayed the names of every department and division and doctorate and seminary, set alongside a marquetry map of where everything could be found.
“Doctor Augustus Brockwise,” Esmeralda read. “Tower of the Brazen Finials, fifth floor, room 1720.”
Jack perused the map. “Got it!” he said, pointing. “We’re in luck. This is the Tower of the Brazen Wotsits , and by the looks of it, the quickest way to Brockwise’s lair is up those stairs over there.” He pointed over to an elaborate staircase at the far end of the vestibule.
“Excellent,” said Esmeralda. “And remember, we’re just three ordinary workers going about our everyday business, so try to look like we belong here.”
They encountered any number of magisterial badgers and scuttling minions on the way, but no one took any notice of them, and they eventually found themselves outside a large and magnificent oak door. A brass plaque confirmed they had reached their target.
OFFICE OF THE HIGHMOST
CHANCELLOR, PLENIPOTENTIARY,
BAGERIUS MAXIMUS BONCIUS,
DOCTOR AUGUSTUS BROCKWISE
And below, a smaller notice was pinned to the panels:
Do Not Disturb
Esmeralda stepped up to the door and rapped sharply on it.
They waited for a reply.
“Maybe he’s gone out?” suggested Trundle.
Esmeralda knocked again and turned the large brass handle. The door opened with a long-drawn creak of protest.
“Hello?” she called, poking her head around the door. “Anyone—oh!” She pushed the door wider, revealing to Trundle’s and Jack’s eyes a room as long and as lofty as a cathedral. A purple carpet ran the length of the floor, and at the far end—about three hundred feet away—they could just make out a big, dark desk in front of a tall black chair in which someone was seated.
Even more remarkable to the friends than the size of the room were the extraordinary apparatuses and machines and devices and contraptions that lined the walls. They walked along the carpet in subdued awe, the brass and copper and steel and glass mechanisms towering above them; some with swinging pendulums, other with flickering dials or with whirring flywheels and ticking cogs and revolving escapements like the workings of great watches or clocks.
As they approached the desk, they became aware of a new sound—a grumbling, grating noise like distant thunder mixed up with someone sawing wood.
“He’s asleep!” exclaimed Jack.
He was right. Slumped backward in the big black leather chair behind the desk, a portly badger snored away with his face hidden beneath a red silk handkerchief. The handkerchief fluttered and flopped with his breathing.
Apart from a blotter and an inkwell and a pen in its stand, the huge polished desk was entirely clear.
The three friends walked around the desk and stared at the slumbering Highmost Chancellor. He was wrapped in black robes, and there were carpet slippers on his feet, with red pom-poms on the toes.
“What should we do?” whispered Trundle, remembering the sign on the door and not wishing to ignore its instructions.
“Disturb him!” declared Esmeralda. She tugged at the badger’s sleeve. “Hey! Excuse me!” she shouted into his hairy ear. “Wake up, please.”
The badger spluttered and puffed as Esmeralda pulled off the
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