The Crying Pennant

Part 21

casino. Please do not use the restricted parts of the castle, some areas are structurally unsound.”

  Arthur thanked Ugbash, Lee and Biggs started to put the puppet theatre wreck away. After, they all went back to their room.

  Arthur tapped his fingers on the alcove wall in the room, “What do you think?”

  “About the facilities,” asked Biggs.

  “No, about the ‘structurally unsound parts of the castle’. Sounds like they don’t want prying eyes prowling around.”

  Biggs looked up, “We’ll wait till dark then.”

  “I say we go swimming first, then snooker,” suggested Lee.

  “We’ll have to stay away from gambling, for now, unless we need clues to the whereabouts of the princess,” Arthur spoke straightforwardly, with an air of authority.

  Biggs looked at Arthur, his eyes half closed, his mouth pursed and sweating, “We should wait till dark to look around.”

  They all got their costumes and towels and headed off to the pool.

“Okay, it’s night now,” said the author.

  “Oh, thanks,” said a drowsy Sid.

  “Are you sure, Author?” asked Alf.

  “Not really,” said the author, “but I’ll make it dark for you if you like.”

  “Did you hear that, will it be completely dark?” asked With.

  “For as long as you want,” said the author.

  “Okay,” they said.

   So, strangely it went dark.

  “Right then, let’s go,” ordered Sid as he pushed the oak panel open into the darkened room beyond. 

Alf peered ahead, “Can’t see much, shine the lamp ahead.”

  The light shone and bounced off myriads of mirrors.

  “A mirror room,” observed With, “how are we going to find our way back out if we have to leave by this exit?”

  “Mmmm,” mmmd Sid, “I’ve got some darning wool here, we could use this.”

  “Okay, my sense of direction is best, because of my ears.” So Alf began to listen his way through the mirrored maze, followed by Sid, then With. Fawh brought up the rear, accidentally catching the wool on his saddle and snapping it. After a few minutes and going round in circles Fawh asked, “Where’s Sid?”

  “With With,” said Alf.

  “Where’s With?”

  “With Sid.”

  “Okay, neigh more messing around, where’s Sid and With?”

  “Here we are,” chimed Sid and With.

  “We’re lost, aren’t we?” said Sid the dwarf as he leaned on the wall, pushing open a mirrored section that led into a trophy room. He then fell on the floor with an ‘Ooof’.

  There were heads of all kinds of mysterious and fantastic creatures on the walls, glass cases full of artefacts and dark, evil looking banners were interspaced with them.

  “A real hunting fellow, this Dark Lord,” noticed Sid.

  “Oh, look, he hunts dwarves too,” laughed Alf.

  Sid held his throat as he looked at a stuffed dwarf’s head, then choked out, “And elves.”

Alf started to shake.

  “You pansy elf,” derided Sid, “this is the fellow who has your beloved and the one we are quested to kill.”

  “This is my Uncle Sid, the elf,” said Alf.