The King's Key by Cameron Stelzer Page B

Marmalade interrupted. ‘You can’t expect our prisoners to remember everyone’s names. Why don’t you skip to the execution bit?’
    â€˜What a splendid idea,’ the King said, rubbing his paws together. ‘What shall it be today? Hmm … how about a … beheading.’

    â€˜A BEHEADING!’ gasped the Pie Rats.
    â€˜Boo,’ chorused the crowd.
    â€˜Boring,’ muttered the Prince.
    The King’s crown sagged further over his face.
    â€˜Don’t take it personally, my dear,’ the Queen said, gently patting his shoulder. ‘We had a beheading last week. What about some variety? I’m partial to a hanging myself. It takes twice as long and the squirming is so entertaining.’
    â€˜A HANGING!’ cheered the monkeys. ‘We want a hanging!’
    â€˜FREEDOM,’ pleaded the Pie Rats. ‘Please let us go.’
    The Prince and Princess both folded their arms and frowned.
    â€˜No one ever asks what I want,’ Prince Marcabio complained.
    â€˜Me neither,’ Princess Mayenya added.
    â€˜So what do you want?’ Horace shouted over the noise, ‘A royal pardon?’
    â€˜I want what daddy dearest wants,’ the Princess replied, grinning angelically at her father.
    â€˜Brilliant,’ Horace groaned. ‘We’re back to the beheading …’
    â€˜Due-Esda!’ Marcabio cried.
    The cheering stopped. The entire tribe froze. Only Mimp’s tiny bells rang through the silent forest. Whisker held his breath and stared expectantly at the Prince, hoping Due-Esda was Mimp’s gibberish for a swift release.
    â€˜Great gardens of garlic!’ the King exclaimed. ‘What a smashingly stupendous idea.’
    â€˜Due-Esda!’ cheered the ecstatic crowd. ‘Due-Esda! Due-Esda!’
    â€˜Err, what is Due-Esda?’ Whisker whispered to the Captain.
    â€˜I haven’t the foggiest idea,’ the Captain said, dumbfounded.
    Ruby shrugged. ‘Never heard of it.’
    â€˜It sounds sinister,’ Horace moaned.
    â€˜Ask M-M-Mr Tribble?’ Eaton stuttered.
    The captives’ eyes turned to Mr Tribble.
    â€˜Ooh my!’ he gasped. ‘I’m not sure you want to hear this, but Due-Esda is an ancient ball game played by two teams of five players. It uses a hard rubber ball and is commonly known by a different name …’
    Whisker’s tail went icy cold. He knew the sport. He knew the name. They all did. It was the most brutal, barbaric and bloodthirsty ball game ever invented.
    â€˜Fellow prisoners,’ Mr Tribble gulped, ‘are you ready for a match of Death Ball?’

Death Ball
    Death Ball, as its name suggests, involves death and a ball. In its modern form, the losing team receives a certificate of participation and a box of bandages. In its ancient form, losers were beheaded, burnt at the stake or exterminated using any method in vogue at the time.
    â€˜Pathetic prisoners,’ the King cried excitedly. ‘I hereby challenge you to a match of Due-Esda, the ancient game of death.’
    â€˜Death Ball, Death Ball, Death Ball to the death!’ chanted the crowd.
    The King continued, ‘If you are victorious, you will be released into the wild jungle. If you are defeated, you will be hanged and beheaded.’
    â€˜A double execution!’ roared the crowd. ‘Our King is a genius!’
    The Pie Rats looked at each other with a mixture of dread and bewilderment.
    â€˜We’re in with a chance,’ Horace said optimistically. ‘Death Ball is a popular Pie Rat pastime, not a jungle sport.’
    â€˜I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Horace,’ Mr Tribble said gravely. ‘The rubber ball is made from latex sap from the Castilla elastica tree – a tree found in this very jungle. Historians believe that monkeys invented Death Ball. They’ve played it for centuries.’
    Horace turned pale.
    â€˜Ah, excuse me, your royal