Roland's Castle by Becky York Page B

they could see it was not the herald,
and he was riding rather oddly, partly standing in his stirrups.
When he got closer still they could see it was Dagarth himself. His
saddle was padded but he could only sit on it for a few seconds at
a time before he rose again with a pained look on his face.
    “He s still got a sore bum from the
lightning strike!” Roland and Oliver snickered. “Yes! Yes!” they
cried, “ Crucial!” a nd they high-fived.
    “Now look here!” Dagarth yelled at
the walls, “This has gone on long enough! I am the rightful master and heir of this castle by right of birth and I demand that
you allow myself and my retinue back in! You are foul usurpers and
traitors and if you do not let me back in,” - and he started to
think about what he was saying – “well, I shall probably not be
very happy about it at first but I shall swallow that and, well, I
am sure I can get over it and we can all be friends just like it
used to be…”
    Oh yes, Roland thought – just like
it used to be. He turned to Firebrace, “Whilst he’s here waiting
for a reply there’s not much the army up there can do – we might as
well leave him waiting out there for as long as possible.”
    Firebrace nodded. “Well
reasoned.”
    “It’ll certainly wind him up,”
Oliver said.
    “We're going to be fighting him
anyway – he’s going to get a lot more wound up,” Roland said.
    So Dagarth was left waiting for
reply like a wet dog out in the rain whilst Roland and his friends
went inside to discuss their response to Dagarth’s
counter-offer.
    “Lets stick to what we have already
said,” said Oliver.
    “We must give in to some points,
otherwise he will not feel like he is making progress and just
attack,” Roland said.
    We also have to be careful he
doesn’t accept, then he will have called our bluff,” Oliver pointed
out.
    “Good point,” Roland responded,
“Lets see; the twins to be spanked – how many times did we get up
to? Auntie Hildegrind to cut down on the fatty foods….”
    “Auntie Aitch must be publicly
weighed every month!” Oliver chipped in.
    “Every week,” Roland insisted.
    “And ducked in the moat if she
hasn’t lost weight!” Oliver put in.
    “Good!” Roland said, and added, “We
must insist that all the cushions are removed from the chairs in
the castle!
    “And sandpaper for Dagarth to wipe
his bum with in the privy!”
    “Oh, now you’re just winding him
up!” Roland laughed, and he and Oliver both high fived.
    Suddenly Savitri burst out
shouting, “Will you two stop being so childish! If Bril-a-Brag and
Gloatenglorp take over this castle you won’t think it so funny!
They are experts at inflicting pain and misery and they are out
there now with an army! We need to be serious!” She spoke directly
to Roland, “And you, boy, need to toughen up if you are going to
command the defence of this castle,” and she jabbed him in the ribs
with her fingers.
    “Sorry,” Roland said, taken aback
by the outburst.
    “And stop saying you’re sorry! Make them say they are sorry!” Savitri scolded.
    When Roland looked at Firebrace he
could tell he thought she was right. Firebrace was more patient, he
was not angry at their pranks, but he too obviously thought they
needed to take it more seriously. He said, “The very fact that
Dagarth has come himself means that they are growing very impatient
– already.”
    “He always was impatient,” Roland
pointed out
    “Yes, and he has only grown more
so,” Firebrace replied, “I don’t think anything we say will put off
the evil moment much longer, but I have an idea that might just
leave them squabbling with each other for a few more hours whilst
we put the final touches to our defences…”
    Back on the ramparts Roland
attracted Dagarth’s attention and called out their latest
condition. “We will only surrender in the presence of a neutral
third party to ensure fair play. We nominate the Abbott of
Wilmesbury.”
    “The Abbot of