The Dragons 3 (5 page)

No one knew, nor will they ever know, whether Mordred knew his parents were bankrupt or not. He acted as if he didn't, but then lying was one of his greatest talents so either could have been true.

Tracyvere and Culvert had their suspicions from the way both Mordred's parents had kept coming over to borrow things, none of which they had ever actually returned unless they had got broken or offered to pay for. The list was very, very long. Here are just a few of the things:

• Buckets of sweat – fourteen (this included the buckets).
  
• Earth – nineteen thousand kilos.
  
• Jam – three thousand jars (assorted flavours, but mainly earwig).
  
• Trousers – eighteen pairs (seven with people still inside them).
  
• Homing pigeons – twelve (all but one came back).
  
• Germs – impossible to count as they kept multiplying.
  
• Penknives – three (returned blunt).
  
• Skateboards – none (they hadn't been invented, but that didn't stop Mordred's mother from asking).
  
• Anything that caught their eye – thousands.
  

‘Of course they might not have been hard-up at all,' said Culvert. ‘It's not like they spent their money on anything.'

‘True, they could have been incredibly rich, just very mean,' Tracyvere agreed.

‘I think they were rich, hard-up and definitely mean,' said their son, Mordred, the current Lord Laclustre. ‘They were certainly mean to me. Do you know what they gave me for breakfast every day?'

‘What?'

‘Toast.'

‘That's not so bad,' said Captain Silver. ‘All I got was seaweed.'

‘Second-hand toast that they had already licked all the jam and butter off.'

Tracyvere and Culvert had never been to Castle Laclustre. The Laclustres had never invited them. It was nothing personal, they had never invited anyone
to visit, not even their own relations. So this day was unique. Mordred was taking the first visitors in living, dying or long-lost memory to Castle Laclustre, so no one had the faintest idea what to expect.

When Mordred and his parents had been banished to the remote island, they had left their estate in the care of the old family retainer, Sergycal, the second cousin of a remote great-aunt of the Russian czar's uncle's butler. He was as honest as the day is long, which, considering it was approaching the shortest day of the year, was not much of a recommendation. Of course, like all so-called ‘honest' people, he was only honest to
some
people. He was immensely loyal to the Laclustres, or at least, more loyal than he was to anyone else apart from himself.

As they reached the edge of the great estate – the Laclustres' lands spread for miles in all directions, including up and down – things began to look bad. The fields were unkempt and overgrown, the stone walls and fences were falling apart, gates were missing and various articles of shredded clothing hung from tree branches. With no secure boundaries, the livestock were wandering around all over the place.
All the goats had climbed into trees and were browsing on the shredded clothing.

And there was an eerie quietness that spread for about fifty metres on either side of the road. Birds fell silent as they entered the area and the air had a terrible icy chill.

Mordred had been away from Laclustre for no more than seven months, but the change filled him with terrible unease. Could it be that the old retainer, Sergycal, had betrayed the family? He had always acted in the most loyal and devoted way. Sergycal's father had served the Laclustre family for over eighty years with never a cross word, no matter what had been demanded of him, and Sergycal had been the same.

‘This feels bad,' Mordred said as they rose up the long drive to the castle. He turned back to Culvert and asked him if he or any of his family had seen anything or heard any stories.

‘None that you would put any faith in,' said Culvert. ‘They were vague and strange and too unbelievable to believe.'

‘What were, the stories or your relatives?' Mordred asked.

‘Both actually.'

‘So what were the stories?'

‘Something to do with a dark, mysterious society that call themselves the Knights Intolerant,' said Culvert. ‘They were supposed to come from a strange land far to the east, several countries beyond the Caucasus. It all seemed too far-fetched to believe.'

‘Yet your retainer's ancestors and mine came from that area,' said Mordred.

‘Oh well, that probably explains it,' said Culvert. ‘Probably got some family members over for a holiday. You know what a superstitious lot peasants are. They see a few foreigners in funny hats and their imaginations run wild.'

‘Yes, I'm sure you're right.'

‘And yet,' Captain Shortbread Silver added, ‘I have heard tales of these Knights Intolerant.'

‘Well yes,' said Mordred, ‘but I'm sure they're not here.'

As they rounded the corner and got their first sight of Castle Laclustre, two enormous men in funny hats stood blocking their way.

‘Vot are ve vonting here?' said the first man.

‘Ve are vonting to turn around and run away, aren't ve?' said the second.

‘I haven't the faintest idea what you are wanting,' said Mordred, ‘but I am wanting to go down the hill to that castle for I am Lord Laclustre and that is my home.'

‘No, is not true,' said the first man. ‘My second cousin, Sergycal, is telling us that the Lord was banishinged to a faraway place with his wife and naughty boy. He is telling us that they will most certainly be deads by now.'

‘Some of that is true,' said Mordred. ‘My parents and I were banished to a remote island and, yes, they are dead, but I am not. Come close and I will whisper you a secret.'

The huge man, whose head was almost as big as Mordred, looked down at the child and assumed, due to their size difference, he was in no danger. He leant down and put his ear very close to Mordred's mouth.

There was a flash of steel and Mordred stabbed him through the heart with his secret knife that was not secret anymore and said very softly as the giant collapsed in front of him, ‘I am the naughty boy.'

The second huge man looked confused.

‘Vot you done to my brother?' he said, too slow to have seen the streaking blade and unable to believe a skinny little boy could have killed his sibling.

‘He's fallen asleep,' said Mordred. ‘Did you not hear the wonderful secret that made him so tired?'

The second huge man shook his head. Mordred beckoned him close and killed him too.

‘Huh, the Knights Intolerant indeed,' he laughed. ‘The Knights Incontinent, more like!'

Captain Shortbread Silver stood in awe. This was not the pathetic boy whining self-pityingly as he threw up into a stormy sea. This was the devil in disguise who took action without wasting time for conversation first. And he was still only a child.

Culvert and Tracyvere stood in awe. They remembered the few times they had seen Mordred over the years and always thought of him as a weak, snivelling baby. They'd found it hard to accept when the Captain had told them the boy had killed both his parents, but now they could believe it.

The four of them sat down in a clump of bushes and looked down at the castle. There seemed to be no
one about, the whole place had a deserted air to it.

‘Pity we couldn't have got some information out of those two goons before you killed them,' said the Captain.

‘That's true,' Mordred agreed, ‘but I'm not sure they were the chatting type. I suspect that speaking words was their second language and something they weren't very good at.'

‘The main thing,' said Culvert, ‘is how your man Sergycal is going to react when we arrive.'

‘Well, he was devoted to my parents,' said Mordred. ‘Far more than I was. And he was always very kind to me. He taught me most of what I know, the things that have helped me to survive.'

‘What, like killing people?' said Tracyvere.

‘Indeed,' said Mordred. ‘He was a wonderful teacher. On the other hand, he could have gone completely, insanely power-crazy and become a megalomaniac.'

‘Oh no, my lord,' said a voice behind them. ‘Stick with the wonderful teacher bit.'

It was Sergycal. He came forward with open hands and arms outstretched to show he was unarmed
and threw himself at Mordred's feet.

‘For I am seeing I taughted you well, young master,' he said. ‘All those days we hunted the wild deer and teared them apart with our teeth were not in vain.'

Mordred reached out to beckon Sergycal to rise and the two of them embraced.

‘Indeed.'

‘I was knowing when they taked you and your parents away you would come returning back,' said Sergycal, ‘and I was doing suspecting your parents would not being with you.'

‘Unfortunately I was forced to kill them,' said Mordred.

‘Of course you were. It is being your destiny,' said Sergycal. ‘And now I am doing swearing my allegiance to you, the sixteenth Lord Laclustre of Laclustre and the noble leader of the Knights Intolerant.'

‘The Knights Intolerant?' said Mordred. ‘What are, no, hold on, I thought I was the fifteenth Lord?'

‘The ninth Lord is never spoke of, for he brought terrible disgrace upon the House of Laclustre,' said Sergycal.

‘How so?' said pretty well everyone.

‘He married beneath him.'

‘What, you mean a commoner or worse still, a peasant?' said Culvert.

‘Worse,' said Sergycal. ‘It grieves me to tell you that his wife had more than two legs.'

‘You don't mean he married a sheep or a horse, do you?' said Mordred.

‘Worse. His wife had more than four legs,' said Sergycal, ‘a lot more.'

‘You mean, he married a whole flock of sheep?'

‘No. The ninthly Lord of Laclustre did marrying a centipedes,' Sergycal whispered. ‘Now may we please never talking of it again do. Just suffice it to say so, my lord, that you are being the sixteenth Lord of Laclustre.'

‘Agreed,' said Mordred. ‘So tell me, good Sergycal, who are The Knights Intolerant?'

‘They are being, my lord, an ancient and secretive order whose origins do stretching back in time go to well over a month ago,' said Sergycal, ‘and you, my Lord, are being the Grand Inquisitor and Sacred Annihilator.'

‘Annihilator? What are we supposed to annihilate?' said Mordred.

Annihilate was a word he loved and the idea of being the Sacred Annihilator sounded very exciting. He was, after all, very good at it for someone so young.

‘The charter of the Knights Intolerant is doing stating that we exists to annihilate two things,' Sergycal explained. ‘The first is being all our enemies and the second is being wizardy wizard peoples.'

‘Wizards?' said Mordred. ‘But aren't they useful?'

‘And who was sending you and your parents to the Rock of Death?'
³¹

‘King Arthur.'

‘Yes, but who did the advising to him to?'

‘Merlin.'

‘Exactlys,' said Sergycal, ‘and Merlin is therefore both of the things we are dedicated to annihilating being wrappered up in one. He is an enemys and he is a wizards.'

‘You're right,' said Mordred. ‘You are a great and wise servant.'

‘Can anyone join?' said Captain Shortbread Silver.

‘Membership is beings by invitation only,' said Sergycal.

‘Oh.'

‘And you are inviteds.'

‘Excellent,' said the Captain. ‘Is there a badge?'

‘There is indeed. And a hatly hat and a secrets handshakings.'

‘And my neighbours, the Clapshamshires, would they be invited to join?' said Mordred.

‘That would do requiring a meeting of the Council,' said Sergycal.

‘And who are the council?'

‘Well, my lord, that would be being you and me and the goodly captain,' said Sergycal.

‘That's it?'

‘Yes. And once the council have been approving the invitations, then all the Knights Intolerant are having to vote on it.'

‘So how many people does that involve?'

‘Well, my lord, there's you and me and the goodly captains,' said Sergycal.

‘That's it?'

‘Yes, my lord,' Sergycal replied. ‘It's early days being today.'

‘So exactly for how long have the Knights Intolerant been in existence?'

‘Umm, let me do seeing. How long ago was it since you was left your good neighbour's castle?'

‘Not sure, it was just after breakfast, about six hours.'

‘Six hours then,' said Sergycal.

‘So you just made it all up?'

‘No, my lord. I created the Knights Intolerant for you,' Sergycal explained. ‘Let us speak plainly, not beat about the peasant as they are doing say. You, my lord, as we both know, are a pretty nasty piece of work and pretty.'

‘Thank you,' said Mordred.

‘Indeeds. So I was doing thinking an organisation such as the Knights Intolerant would be tailor-made to your special talents. I am also knowing you do feeling, as I indeed doing am, that you should be the rulers of Avalon. So I was doing thinking a thought that an organisation such as this would allowing you to gather
like-minded souls to aiding you in this quest.'

‘My good Sergycal, you are the best retainer a master could have. No, I declare that you are no longer a mere retainer, from henceforth you shall be my squire and have a retainer of your own,' said Mordred. ‘Oh, and I'm sorry I killed your two cousins on the road back there.'

‘Oh, think nothing of it, my lord. There's being plenty more where they came from.'

This was true. As the party reached the castle four more huge second cousins stood on the drawbridge. When they saw Sergycal, they knelt low before him and fell into the moat.

‘They are beings all like that,' Sergycal explained. ‘Useless, but if you do laying them on the floor by the door they are first-class top things at keeping the draughts out. They are also very usefully to do standing on when you need to reach for things on the top shelf, though I have to say roast cousin is not as goodly tasty as roast chicken.'