The Eggshell War Chapter 2

Chapter Two.

 

A Messy Continuation.

         

To understand why this should be classed as a National Disaster, you need to know something about the Kingdom of Dulanstufy. It only had one mountain. The rest of the country was as flat as a table top. The Mountain had no name, because it was the only one. It stuck up right in the centre of the kingdom. There were no other mountains within hundreds of miles, which made it rather special.

The Dulanstuffians were tremendously proud of it. They hunted, walked, rode and picnicked in the woods on its lower slopes. They skied on it in winter and climbed to its very top in summer. It was the envy of all the surrounding flat countries. In shape it was rather like the kind of thing a child would draw: steep sides and a point at the top.

Now, though, the top of the Mountain was gone. It no longer had a point. It was flat.

The three politicians bowed to the Prince and waited for the king to speak.

“Er!” the king began nervously.

“Sire?” chorused the three politicians.

The king shook his head and wished the Queen would hurry up and come. His wish was instantly granted. The door was flung open by two footmen and in swept the Queen.

A few paces behind her crept the Chief Lady‑in‑Waiting, Lady Sitenso — one of those nervous women who constantly wrung her hands and worried. The Queen never worried and only wrung necks.

“Now, Shilee, what are you doing about this dreadful thing?”

Shilee shook his head.

“I see,” snorted the Queen. “Nothing, as usual. Prime Minister, have you done anything yet?”

Sir Stabemin bowed and began to speak. “I, er, we, that is…”

“Typical. Absolutely nothing, as usual. Really, I don’t know why I bother with any of you. Ah well, my mother, God rest her soul, did warn me. But I would not listen.”

This was how many of Queen Rawty’s speeches began. She then went on about how she could have married any one of a dozen princes, and so on and so on, but mostly on.

King Shilee had heard the speech many times before and did what he usually did. He slid down the throne, on to his hands and knees, and began to crawl across the carpet towards the door. His escape was thwarted when the door was flung open and in marched a small, red‑faced person who tripped over the crawling king and fell to the floor.

Queen Rawty stopped complaining and turned to face the interruption. It took a little time for the king and the dwarf to untangle themselves from the rug and each other. The Queen stood tapping her foot impatiently. The expression on her face would have turned a charging bull into a meat cube. Shilee sighed and returned to the throne.

The dwarf had looked angry when he had flung open the door, but now he was too furious even to notice the Queen’s face.

“King Shortenstowt,” he announced. “King of the Dwarves under the Mountain. I came here to find out what you have done to my Mountain, and what do I find? You are playing silly party games!” He was shouting, and for a small person he had a very loud voice.

Queen Rawty did not have to shout. “Your Mountain?” The ice in her voice would have put icicles on the fireplace. “It is OUR Mountain!”

“Pish!” said the Dwarf rudely. “Tush! Dwarves have lived under the Mountain since—”

“Since King Erly Retyrink gave you permission,” the Queen finished for him. “You are only there because WE allow it.”

King Shortenstowt took a deep breath, but Queen Rawty was now in full flow and about as easy to interrupt as a waterfall.

“And if anyone has damaged OUR Mountain, it is you dwarves with your digging away at it.”

The Dwarf King was actually dancing with rage and spluttering so much he could not speak. Two guards were called and he was arrested. However, before he could be taken away there was another interruption.

The door burst open again and in roared a huge, black‑bearded man. Around his waist was a wide belt. Stuck in this belt were no fewer than four pistols (loaded) and two swords (sharp). In each hand he waved another pistol (loaded). He also had a dagger stuck down each boot, which cut terrible holes in his socks, much to his wife’s annoyance.

Queen Rawty was afraid of neither man nor beast. “How dare you burst in here like that?”

“Oh, that’s easy. How else would you expect a robber to enter a Palace?” The man had a voice to match his appearance.

Lady Sitenso screamed faintly. After all, she did not want to draw attention to herself.

King Shilee shuddered and tried to hide in the cushions on the throne. The three Cabinet Ministers hid behind Eet, behind the throne.

Two other men, smaller and not so heavily armed, sidled in. They stood by the door and looked sheepishly around.

The ruffian bowed. “Nikitanrun, Robber Chief and Bandit Supreme, that’s me.” He waved a hand towards his accomplices. “These are my lieutenants, Muggem and Rollem.” They waved, looking rather foolish.

Queen Rawty was not impressed. “Peasants,” she sneered. “We do not give audiences to the likes of you. Kindly remove yourself from our presence this instant. And close the door behind you.”

Nikit looked a little less brave now. The Queen sounded just like his wife, and she scared the wits out of him.

“I only came to find out who is responsible for dumping the Mountain top right across the front door of my hideout,” he said.

When it had happened, Mrs Nikit had ordered him to go to the Palace and complain. He had not wanted to, but when his wife gave orders it was best to follow them.

Queen Rawty was at her most haughty. “Another person living on OUR Mountain without our permission. Home Secretary, arrest that man.”

Now, the Home Secretary was very much in favour of having people thrown into prison. Indeed, he had recently given every prisoner in the kingdom a free pardon, so that he could have the pleasure of ordering them to be arrested and thrown into jail all over again. However, he was not in favour of doing the actual arresting himself, especially when they were as big and fierce and heavily armed as Nikitanrun. Still, he too was more scared of the Queen.

He stepped forward. “Ahem, you are under arrest for, er, um, er…” Under the scornful gaze of the Queen and the scowl of the bandit, he could not think of a crime.

Queen Rawty began tapping her foot.

Desperately Mr Anangem tried again. “I arrest you in the name of the king on a charge of—er—” He glanced out of the window. Rescue was at hand. Nikit and his gang had left their horses outside the Palace. “Ah! Illegal parking. I warn you that anything you say may be taken down and given in evidence.”

“Hah!” Nikit was not impressed.

“Hah!” The Queen was not impressed either.

The two guards holding the Dwarf King did not know whether to keep hold of him or let him go and grab Nikit or what.

Prince Charmless, who was busy counting his fingers and getting a different answer each time, looked up and saw the room full of people.

“Oh, I say, visitors, goody. Cream cakes.”

The reason for this odd remark is quite simple, just like the Prince. Whenever the Palace had visitors, cream cakes were served with the morning coffee. Prince Charmless adored cream cakes.

Before anyone could move or speak, Charmless reached for the speaking tube on the wall behind his chair and ordered cream cakes and coffee for sixteen. There were only fourteen in the room, I know, but counting was not his strong point.

Queen Rawty began one of her tirades again. This was the one that began “Children!” and went on about how ungrateful they were and how her mother had warned her and so on.

Charmless took no notice. He lay back in the chair and thought about cream cakes.

Nikit listened to the Queen with his mouth open in awe. His wife could go on a bit, but the Queen was something special. His two henchmen tried to disappear into the wallpaper. When Mrs Nikit went on like that it usually meant trouble for them, and no doubt this would be the same.

The three Cabinet Ministers were used to this sort of speech. They made their faces look interested while their brains emptied. They did this often in Cabinet meetings. It saved them from having to listen to a lot of boring speeches. The P.M. was so good at it, he often did not listen even when he was speaking himself.

Shortenstowt was not listening either. When the Queen had begun to speak, the two guards had stood to attention, and as they were holding the dwarf’s arms this meant he was lifted clean off the floor. Now he dangled two feet in the air with his legs waving about.

King Shilee sighed and thought about escaping, but the room was too full. From bitter past experience he knew that once the Queen got started she could and would keep it up for a very, very long time.

However, it was not to be. There was yet another interruption. This time it was properly done. Two footmen flung open the doors, there was a fanfare of trumpets, and the Royal Butler, Sup Ort, appeared in the doorway. He bowed low, stood up and announced in a loud voice:

“His Royal and Mighty Highness, the King of Tufanasty, His Gracious Majesty King Proudlee Overberin.”

He stood aside and bowed low as a figure strode into the room.

Now, as Queen Rawty was tall for a woman, King Proudlee was small for a man. What he lacked in inches he made up for in pride. He was the most pompous, boastful, big‑headed monarch in the world. Queen Rawty could not stand him. Neither could King Shilee. If the truth were told, the only person who could be said to like King Proudlee was himself. He thought he was wonderful.

King Proudlee was often in a bad temper, but today he was angrier than ever. His face was red and he was waving his arms about. The reason for this rage took some understanding. When he was angry King Proudlee spluttered. His speech sounded like an overfilled kettle spitting water onto the fire.

This is what he said, with the spizzles and fizzles removed:

“How dare you? You have deliberately spoiled my view. I have just finished building the finest Palace in the world with big windows in the throne room. Those windows gave me a perfect view of the Mountain. Now it is ruined. You have cut off the top of the Mountain because you are jealous of my Palace. I have never been so insulted in all my life. Unless you put it back immediately, I shall send my unbeatable army to invade you. Then I shall not only own the view — I shall own the Mountain too.”

King Proudlee pulled himself up to his full height, which was not very tall, and glared at King Shilee. That poor man burrowed even deeper into the cushions. He looked round for help from the Queen.

For perhaps the first time in her life the Queen was speechless. This unique situation did not last long.

“YOUR view, is it? How dare WE? The Mountain belongs to Dulanstufy, and only those who live here are allowed to look at it. YOU will invade us? Unless you go home now and brick up your windows and promise never to look at OUR Mountain ever again, WE will invade you.”

“Pah!” replied King Proudlee. “Your rotten little army would get lost on the way. Since it is obvious you have done this just to spite me, I will return to Tufanasty to prepare my army. You have ten days to put the Mountain top back where it should be.”

Queen Rawty looked down on him. “WE will give you ten days in which to brick up your windows, or we will invade YOU.”

“Yah boo,” said Prince Charmless, taking notice for the second time. “And, and…” He could not think of anything else to say, which was perhaps a good thing.

If Proudlee had heard this he might well have exploded with rage, but during Queen Rawty’s last speech he had pulled his crown down over his ears. It was now stuck. It was a good job that everyone in the room was too busy arguing to see Proudlee’s efforts to remove his crown. They might well have laughed at him, and that would never have been forgiven.

It was no use; the crown was stuck fast. In the end his two bodyguards, Lord Tobig Forisboots and Lord Fulo De Otair, had to help. One held the king round his waist and the other held the crown. Then they tugged. King Proudlee’s head came out like a cork out of a bottle. Lord Tobig fell over backwards, knocking over Rollem and Muggem. Muggem kept his head in the scramble and helped himself to Tobig’s wallet.

The King and Lord Fulo bounced across the room and straight into the footman who had just come in with a tray of cream cakes as ordered by Prince Charmless. The footman went down, the tray of cakes went up. Things which go up generally have to come down again, and so the cream cakes came down.

Mrs Overboylanbern was famous throughout all the surrounding kingdoms for the size of her cakes and the amount of cream she managed to get in them. Just because there was a National Disaster was not, in her opinion, a good enough reason to be any less generous than usual. These were cream cakes of the first order.

One landed on King Proudlee’s bald head. An awful truth had come out. King Proudlee wore a wig. It had come off with his crown. He spluttered and tried to wipe away the sticky mess with Lord Fulo’s sleeve.

Another cake landed on the back of Queen Rawty’s neck. She clapped her hand to the spot, twirled around, squashed cream cake in her hand, and saw King Proudlee with a cream‑covered hand. Of course she jumped to the wrong conclusion.

Her aim was, for once, not very good. The cream cake she flung at King Proudlee hit the Prime Minister in the face. He had not been paying attention. He saw the cream on Lord Fulo’s sleeve. He wiped the cake from his face and threw it at that gentleman.

Before you could say Dulanstufy or Tufanasty, everybody was throwing cream cakes. Prince Charmless squealed with delight and sent for more ammunition.

Not everybody joined in. King Shilee took his chance and escaped in the confusion. Eet knew it was not his place to throw things at such important people. He merely bowed and thanked those who hit him. He also ate those cakes as well.

Shortenstowt had taken refuge on the throne, using one of the cushions as a shield. King Proudlee, bald and crownless, stood behind his bodyguards, ready to fight off any more attacks. Nikit, Rollem and Muggem had taken refuge behind an upturned table. Queen Rawty stood in the middle of the room, looking like a half‑melted marble statue. She was far too proud to hide. The soldiers were huddled in a corner, trying to hide behind their helmets. Eet was in another corner feeling very sick. He had eaten an awful lot of cakes. The others were in various parts of the room, trying to find hiding places.

Prince Charmless, the only person who had really enjoyed himself, was sitting on the arm of his chair as if it were a horse. “What fun!” he shrieked. “What… glooop!” The last cream cake hit him in the face and he fell sideways onto the chair, giggling and waving his legs in the air.

Now, if you or I had been involved in such a cream‑cake slinging match, we would probably have stood and laughed at the end of it. Queen Rawty and King Proudlee were still far too angry to see anything funny in the situation. Proudlee fished around in the cream until he found his crown. He stuck it on his head and stormed out, followed by his bodyguards. They made a remarkable sight, all covered in cream. The wig was never found. It is entirely possible that Eet ate it.

While nobody was looking, Shortenstowt waded through the debris and escaped. The three robbers left through the window. They did not need to, but they felt better. They were not used to entering and leaving palaces through the doors.

Queen Rawty swept out of the room, as tall and proud as ever, leaving a trail of cream along the corridor, up the stairs and into her bathroom. Lady Sitenso followed. She had avoided most of the cream cakes by the simple method of hiding under the folds of the Queen’s skirt. Blonden rushed after them to run the Queen’s bath.

The three Cabinet Ministers squelched their way home, unhappily wondering what their wives were going to say and what they were going to do about the National Disaster and the probable war. What their wives said to them was long, loud, and certainly not to be repeated in polite company.

The poor soldiers were left behind in the throne room. Eet had cleared off to be sick and Charmless had wandered away for a bath. The soldiers did not know what to do. They were not very good at thinking for themselves, only at following orders. Even then the orders had to be simple ones, shouted very loudly at them by their sergeant. No one had given them any orders. They began to empty the cream out of the window, using their helmets as buckets.

Soon every cat in the kingdom had invaded the Palace, licking up and fighting over the cream. Of course every dog in the kingdom then came to chase every cat in the kingdom.

It took a great deal of time and all the army to get rid of the animals, and a whole mob of cleaners to get rid of the cream and the mess left by the animals. The only good th