Part 36 (1/2)

'My people?' The king was still in the supine position.

'Your princes and princesses, lords and ladies, jugglers and fools. Your minions, underlings, peasants and peons. Elder statesmen, younger statesmen, arti-sans, maids in waiting, concubines, footmen. Your people.'

'They're all here really,' said the king, who was now sitting up. 'Except for a couple of guards and the woman who cleans on Tuesdays.'

'What?' cried Hugo Rune.

'Well,' the king explained, 'it's like this. Every generation there are fewer folk in the world. Take yourself. There is only one of you. Yet you had two parents, four grandparents, eight great-grandparents, sixteen great-great-'

'Shut up,' Rune raised the doom-laden finger. 'I know all that. I discovered it.'

'Well, there you are then. My missus walked out years ago and my daughter, who you got pregnant in your vain attempt to be made a prince, went with her. My grandson became a Scotsman and got blown up. And Arthur never married.'

'Never fancied the cleaning woman,' said Arthur.

'And the guards aren't really guards at all. They're just conjurations.'

'And they're a right pain in the neck,' said Arthur. 'Always going on about overtime and bonus pay-ments.'

Rune looked appalled. He was appalled.

Cornelius was appalled also. 'You mean to say that there's just you, Father Christmas, and his one little fairy left?'

'I don't like that term,' said Arthur. 'I'm a Kobold.'

'Who does your cooking, then?' Anna asked. 'Who bakes the cakes?'

'Fortnum & Mason's,' said the king. 'Whoever did you think?'

'Fortnum & Mason's, eh?' Tuppe climbed up on to the chair next to Cornelius. 'Yum yum.'

'Try the Black Forest Gateau,' said Cornelius.

'Get away from my cakes.' The king was finally back on his feet.

'Interesting situation,' said Cornelius to Hugo Rune. 'When exactly might we expect the police force and the army and the world's press to come bursting in here and arrest Father Christmas and his one little fairy?'

Rune took out his pocket watch once more and scrutinized its face. 'Quite shortly now. Doesn't time fly when you're having a good time? Do you know why, by the way? I wrote a rather erudite monograph on the subject.'

Rune smiled upon Arthur Kobold. 'How long would it take you to conjure up a few hundredguards? Put on a bit of a display of defence. Just for appearances' sake? You could do that, couldn't you?'

'I could, but I won't.' Arthur folded his arms. Hugo Rune dipped into the microcosm on the pedestal table and tw.a.n.ged the head of the miniature Kobold. The full-sized version toppled sideways, clutching his skull. 'About five minutes,' he said.

'Well hurry off, then.'

'Now see here,' said Cornelius.

'Now see here,' said the king.

'No no,' said Rune. 'He that controls the magic table, controls all the ”now see heres”. The king must have his guards. He must be seen to be putting up a struggle. Can't disappoint the viewing public.'

The king stroked his whiskers. 'These policemen and soldiers and whatnot. They will all have guns, I suppose.'

'Of course.' Rune nodded his big bald head. 'Lots of guns.'

'Will they have swords at all?'

'Not in this day and age,' said Rune. 'Swords indeed.'

'Ah,' said the king. 'Tell you what, Arthur, why don't you conjure up five hundred guards and make a really decent show of it?'

Arthur and the king exchanged knowing winks. 'Let's make it an even thousand,' said Arthur Kobold, heading for the door.

'Help yourself to cake everyone,' said the king.

It was taking reliable Ron St.u.r.dy rather a long time to get up Star Hill. He kept getting distracted.

There were all these old buses, with bald tyres and out-of-date tax discs. And no-one seemed keen to help him with his enquiries.

The Gandhis were rocking on. Prince Charles had joined them on stage and was playing his cello.

Polly was glowering at him.

Mickey Minns sauntered over to her. He thought she was Anna.

'Wanna dance?' he asked.

Inspectre Hovis was making reasonable progress. He was out of the torture chamber now and fighting his way up a flight of stone steps. The big green thingy, whose brother Colin the great detective had pranged, was putting up quite a show of force. But it was keeping its back to the wall, just to be on the safe side.

Arthur Kobold was back in his office. The filing cabinet was open and Colin was out.

Arthur was manipulating a foot pump.

'You're in for a bit of multiplication,' he told the green thingy that was growing bigger by the moment. 'Do your job properly and you'll get double-bubble, time and a half, a big wodge of folding in your old ”sky rocket” and a golden handshake.'

'Did you have to stick the air pipe up my bottom?' the big green thingy complained.

'Mind if I sit back in my throne?' the king asked Hugo Rune.

'Be my guest,' said Hugo.

'So kind.' The king eased himself into it. 'Great cake,' said Tuppe. 'Are you really, truly, Father Christmas, by the way?'

'I am he,' said the king.

'Then what ever happened to my train set? I sent a letter up the chimney three years running. Don't tell me they all got lost in the Christmas post.'

'What's your name?' asked the king.