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"You are nothing!" screamed Sir Thursday. "I demote you to nothing. I will carry out my orders myself."
He twirled, lifted his sword so that it pointed straight at Arthur's heart, and r an straight at the boy.
Arthur tried to throw himself forward to the ground, but he was held too fast . He could not avoid the thrust.
But the sword did not strike home. Sir Thursday had only taken a single step when the snake wound around the hilt suddenly uncoiled and reared back. It was made entirely of words, and one line that ran down its back suddenly sho ne silver. The letters grew to the full width of the reptile, spelling out a single phrase: Let the Will be done!
The snake's fangs gleamed in the silver light, and it struck before Thursday could take another step, its top jaw snapping down on the back of his hand, biting deep. Sir Thursday's hand jerked, lifting the sword so that the blad e whistled well above Arthur's head, sliced the ear off the Denizen holding him, and then embedded itself in the wooden paneling of the wall.
Arthur heard the Denizen behind him scream and felt him let go. Sir Thurs day was trying to rip the snake that was Part Four of the Will from his h and. The marshals were drawing their swords. Everyone else was huddling b ack against the walls, some drawing weapons, but most just watching in st unned amazement and fear.
Arthur knew what to do. He spun around, reached up, and, exerting every last ounce of his strength, pulled the sword out of the wood. It clanged onto th e ground, because it was too heavy for him to hold up. Arthur knelt beside i t and gripped the hilt.
Then he spoke in the clearest voice he could muster.
"I, Arthur, Anointed Heir to the Kingdom, claim this Key and with it"
Sir Thursday howled in rage, plucked the snake from his hand, and threw it a cross the room. Then he s.n.a.t.c.hed a sword from the nerveless hands of a staff major and, still howling like a beast, ran at Arthur.
His path and his swordplay were blocked by the marshals. It took all three of them to do it, their blades clas.h.i.+ng and weaving as they fought to hold off the ravening monster that Sir Thursday had become.
Arthur spoke faster and faster, his gaze on the lightning-fast interplay of sw ords.
"With it command of the Glorious Army of the Architect, and Mastery of the Great Maze. I claim it by blood and bone and contest. Out of truth, in test ament, and against all trouble!"
Something touched his leg and Arthur shrieked, rather spoiling the momenta ry silence that had fallen as he finished claiming the Key. He looked down and saw the snake spiraling up and around his leg.
The marshals took advantage of Sir Thursday's momentary distraction, backin g him into a corner, but he was neither disarmed nor defeated. It was all t he three marshals could do to keep him there and protect themselves from hi s lightning lunges and cuts. He might no longer have the Fourth Key, but he was still extremely dangerous.
"Point the Key at him and order him to stand to attention," hissed the Will.
It had coiled most of its body around Arthur's upper arm and stretched up f rom there so its diamond-shaped head was unnervingly close to his ear.
"I don't want to use the Key," whispered Arthur.
"What!?" hissed the Will. "I know you're the Rightful Heir! I can tell!"
"Yes, I am," Arthur whispered back. "Butlook, we'll talk about it later."
"So you have my Key," called out Sir Thursday. He lowered his sword, but th e marshals did not press home their attack. "However, it takes more than th at to command my army, particularly when the enemy is at the gates. I take it the enemy is still at the gates?"
"Yes, sir," said a colonel uncertainly. "But we are confident that when the t iles start to move again, the enemy will lose heart "
"The tiles will not move," said Sir Thursday. "Due to treachery, I failed. Th e spike was not destroyed."
His words were met by gasps, suppressed moans, and even one or two outright cries of despair. Several officers looked away; only a very few looked to Arthur. Their behavior indicated that the situation was very bad, and now t hat Arthur thought to listen, he could distantly hear the sound of battle, though there was no cannon fire.
Which was either good or bad, depending on whether it was due to lack of N othing-powder or because whatever attack was in progress wasn't that serio us.
"I am Lord Arthur, the Rightful Heir of the Architect," Arthur announced . "I am a.s.suming command. Marshals Dawn, Noon, and Dusk, I want you to d isarm and arrest the Denizen formerly known as Sir Thursday."
"I command the Army by order of Lord Sunday, conveyed in writing by Superi or Sat.u.r.day," countered Sir Thursday. "Perhaps I was hasty in demanding th e Piper's children be executed, but we are at war. Surely you all know tha t I am the only one who can lead us to victory over the New Nithlings. Arr est this Arthur, and in due course we can look into his claims and hold a proper court of inquiry."
"Use the Key!" hissed the Will.
"The Will of the Architect has chosen me," said Arthur desperately. He raise d his arm to show the snake. "This is Part Four of Her Will."
He could feel the mood of the Denizens in the room changing. They would so easily fall back into the familiar pattern of obedience to Sir Thursday.
"What Will?" asked Sir Thursday. He took a step forward, and the three mars hals stepped back, their weapons lowered. "That is merely a sorcerous snake , a thing of the Upper House. An embellishment to the Key. Colonel Repton, you are close there. Arrest Lieutenant Green, as he actually is. You see th at he cannot use the Key, don't you?" "Use the Key!" hissed the Will again, desperation coming through in its soft serpent voice.
Chapter Twenty-six
I am the Rightful Heir, you know," said Arthur, with weary resignation. He li fted the Fourth Key. It shrank as he raised it, transforming itself from a sw ord into a slender marshal's baton of ivory wreathed in tiny golden laurel le aves.
The baton began to glow with a green light reminiscent of the Great Maze's m oon as Arthur held it up. He leveled it directly at Sir Thursday, keeping it in line with the Trustee's now strangely yellow-tinged eyes. "Atten-hut!"
Everyone in the room stood at attention, except for Arthur and Sir Thursday. The Trustee's eyes grew even more yellow, and a vein stood out and began to throb upon his forehead as he tried to resist the power of the Key. Then, e ver so slowly, his boots began to slide across the floor, coming together wi th a loud click of his heels. His hands went to his sides, and the sword he' d taken angled back to rest on his shoulder.
"You are stripped of all rank and privileges," said Arthur. His voice echoe d with power, sounding deeper, stronger, and much scarier than any boy's sh ould.
Sir Thursday's epaulettes flew off and his b.u.t.tons rained upon the floor. Hi s sword snapped into three pieces and the hilt became rusty powder in his ha nd.
Arthur lowered the Fourth Key.
"Marshal Dawn, take whoever you need with you and get Sir Thursday locked up somewhere safe. Make sure he can't escape, but also make sure he is g uarded from outsiders too. Somebody is killing all the former Trustees."
"Yes, sir!" snapped Dawn. She took off her belt and used it to bind Sir Thur sday's hands. He did not resist, but he glowered at Arthur, his deep-set eye s staring at the boy with undisguised hatred. Dawn gestured at two colonels to help her, and together they led Sir Thursday from the room.
"Good riddance," said the Will. "Now, Lord Arthur, the situation is quite gra ve. I believe that our first step should be to try Sir Thursday in a properly const.i.tuted court so that he can answer for his many crimes "
"Marshal Noon," said Arthur, using two fingers to hold the snake's mouth s hut, "has anyone tried negotiating with these New Nithlings?"
Marshal Noon looked at the frustrated Will coiled on Arthur's arm, then back at the boy. "No, sir. It has never been possible to negotiate with Nithlings. "
"My brother is a soldier," said Arthur. "An officer. He told me once that eve ry army always fights its current war as if it were the previous one, learnin g no lessons from what is actually happening."
"Yes, sir," said Noon but he looked puzzled.
"What I mean is that we are being attacked not by the old kind of Nithling.
These are New Nithlings. Everything is different about them. And they are led by the Piper. At least I guess it's him. Sir Thursday thought so, and h e'd have no reason to lie about that. Which makes me wonder what the Piper and his Nithlings actually want."
"To destroy us, sir," said Noon.
"That's what Nithlings usually want," said Arthur wearily. "But like I said, everything is different about these New Nithlings. Otherwise we wouldn't ev en be in this situation. Which reminds me, what is the situation?"
"It's serious," Noon reported. "We should view the battlefield, but in esse nce, the New Nithlings around the Citadel continue to be reinforced. There was an a.s.sault half an hour ago, which nearly carried the outer southwest b astion. We are low on firewash, have very little Nothing-powder, and the ga rrison is not up to full strength. The New Nithlings are constantly reinfor ced, while we are not. We have a force of seventeen thousand, two hundred a nd eighty-six at last report in the Citadel, and about another sixty-two th ousand troops at the White Keep, Fort Transformation, the Cannon a.r.s.enal, a nd Irontoe Hold. But with the tiles stopped, there is no way we can be rein forced in time by marching, as it is too far. Besides, they will be beset t hemselves, since there are so many enemy in the Maze. The enemy force again st us here numbers at least seventy-five thousand, with tens of thousands m ore on the march. Without tectonic strategy, we cannot prevent their arrival."
"Lord Arthur," interrupted the snake, who Arthur had let go. "If the Citadel is in danger of falling, then we should leave, being sure to take our prisone r so he may answer to justice "
"Shut up!" ordered Arthur. "What is it with you Parts of the Will? You can't see the forest for the trees. Besides, even if I was going to leave which I'm not I'm sure there's no way out except the Improbable Stair, which I am not going to take, because I do not want to use the Key! Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," mumbled the snake.
"That reminds me." Arthur fumbled in his pouch and took out the crocodile r ing, sliding it on his finger. But he didn't dare look at it straightaway, and he welcomed an interruption from Marshal Dusk.
"Pardon me, sir," said Dusk. His uniform was a dark gray with black epaulet tes and black b.u.t.tons. Like all Dusks, he had the reserve and inner quiet c haracteristic of a late evening. "There is a way out. An elevator from Sir Thursday's study goes up to the Middle House and down to the Lower House."
"An elevator?" asked Arthur. "Do we have telephone connection with the res t of the House as well?"
"Yes, sir," said Dusk. "Do you wish to place a call?"
Arthur tapped the Fourth Key on his thigh, wincing when it actually hurt. Th e ivory baton was a lot harder than it looked and the gold leaves were point y. His mind raced as he tried to work out what to do. Amid the big question of h ow to defend the Citadel, he had a constant nagging fear for the safety of Su zy and Fred and the other Piper's children in the raiding party. They'd been frozen or turned into statues or something, which suggested the Piper didn't want to kill them. He had brought them to the House in the first place, after all. But Arthur couldn't be sure they'd be all right.
The biggest puzzle was the revelation that the Piper was the leader of the New Nithlings. As far as Arthur could remember, the Piper was one of the th ree children of the Old One and the Architect, born to a surrogate mortal m other. But he didn't really know any more than that.
Why would the Piper be leading an army of almost-Denizens against the Ho use? His older brother was Lord Sunday, wasn't he?
"Okay," he said finally. He paused as everyone in the room looked at him respe ctfully, antic.i.p.ation in their faces. "How big is Sir Thursday's elevator? It' s not a stupid little one like at Fort Transformation, is it?"
"It is of variable dimension, I believe," said Dusk. "Perhaps the size of this r oom at its largest extent."
"How long would it take to get to and from the Lower House?" asked Arthur .
"It depends upon the elevator operators and the local authorities. Minutes, hours, days I could not say."
"Right," said Arthur through clenched teeth. "I hope it turns out to be on ly minutes. I want to try to negotiate with the New Nithlings. One other t hing my soldier brother once said was that it's always best to negotiate f rom a position of strength. So I am going to call on the Lower House, the Far Reaches, and the Border Sea to use that elevator to send through as ma ny Commissionaires, former Overseers, Midnight Visitors, sailors, and so f orth as we can round up, with Monday's, Tuesday's, and Wednesday's Dawns, Noons, and Dusks and as much Nothing-powder as we can get together."
"Civilians," said Noon in a disparaging tone. "Though the powder would be useful."
"They're all used to fighting Nithlings of one kind or another," Arthur remi nded him. "Besides, I bet most of them did their time in the Army and are in the Reserve."
"Reservists are little better than civilians," sniffed Noon. "Reintegrating th em into our forces is never easy. Besides, I don't believe even you have the a uthority to call up the Reserve. That is a function of the Upper House. Sir."
"I think in the current circ.u.mstances we will take whatever reinforcements we can find and be extremely grateful," said Dusk. He looked pointedly at N oon, who did not meet his gaze. "And Sir Arthur is not calling up the Reser ve. Just bringing in volunteers."
"Who had better be welcome," said Arthur. Sometimes the lack of common sense among Denizens drove him crazy. "Where's the phone?"
A captain hurried across the floor holding a small wickerwork suitcase that lo oked rather like it might have a picnic set inside it. He flipped it open to r eveal a telephone handset on a cradle. Arthur picked up the handset, and the c aptain started cranking a little handle on the side of the suitcase.
"Can I help you?" said a crackly voice that sounded very far away.
"Get me Dame Primus," ordered Arthur.
"She's not taking calls," said the voice. "I had one for her not long ago."
"This is Lord Arthur, Rightful Heir of the Architect. And it's urgent, please."
"Pardon?"
"I said, this is Lord Arthur "
"No, not that bit, what did you say at the end?"
"Please," repeated Arthur. "Look, it really is urgent."
"Putting you through now, sir," said the voice. In the background Arthur hea rd her add, "He said 'please,' and him higher than all them rude n.o.bs."
There was some louder crackling, then a voice Arthur recognized as Sneezer 's spoke.
"Monday's Dayroom. May I help you?"
"Sneezer, it's Arthur. Put Dame Primus on please, straightaway."
"Very good, sir."
"Lord Arthur?"
The snake on Arthur's arm jumped as Dame Primus's voice echoed through the room. Not for the first time, Arthur wondered why all the superior Denize ns did that on the phone. It was probably just so they sounded important.
"Yes. I haven't got much time, so listen carefully. I want every available Commissionaire Sergeant, Metal Commissionaire, Midnight Visitor, the form er Overseers from the Far Reaches, the regular sailors, and all our superi or Denizens to come through to the Citadel in the Great Maze with weapons and as much Nothing-powder as is available, as quickly as possible. Oh, an d Dr. Scamandros and anyone else who might be useful in a battle, inckid-i ng you. There'll be an elevator in the Lower House. Any questions?"
"Yes, Lord Arthur, I have numerous questions," said Dame Primus in a peev ish tone. "What is going on? Are you planning to fight Sir Thursday? That would not be a sensible course. Even with all our forces, we would be no match for the Army "
"I have the Key and Part Four is free," interrupted Arthur. "Sir Thursday is under arrest "
"And will be judged!" blurted out the snake.
"And we are about to be attacked by a vast army of New Nithlings led by the Piper. So hurry up, will you?"
"Indeed," said Dame Primus, her tone quite changed. "It shall be as you sa y, Lord Arthur. I do not know how quickly we can come, but we will do our best."
"That's that, then," said Arthur. "Let's have a look at the battlefield, and while we do that, somebody can find a big white flag. And an olive branch. You could do that, Marshal Noon. Lead on, Marshal Dusk."
As they walked to the door, Arthur lifted his hand and took a surrept.i.tious l ook at his crocodile ring. He did not need to hold it close to see that the g old had washed past the fourth marker and was a third of the way towards the fifth.
Chapter Twenty-seven