Defender of the Realm by Mark Huckerby

Author:Mark Huckerby
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.

Alfie had been inside Westminster Abbey many times before—for weddings, Remembrance Day services, and his father’s funeral, of course—but somehow this time was different. This time the ancient church was being prepared for a coronation—for his coronation. The idea was suddenly overwhelming. The great vaulted ceiling felt even higher and more breathtaking than usual; every monument, memorial, and statue seemed to cast a shadow over him. The names and faces of the country’s most famous rulers, soldiers, scientists, and artists pressed in from all sides, daring him to pretend he was worthy to stand among them. He knew that he wasn’t.

“Just think of it as a play, Alfie.” Professor Lock stepped out from behind King Edward’s Chair, a surprisingly battered-looking, plain wooden throne, on which the monarch sat to be crowned. Alfie smiled. It was a relief to see a friendly face.

The Lord Chamberlain nodded a stiff greeting to the teacher. “We felt that Your Majesty might benefit from some extra historical tutelage before the ceremony.” Alfie noticed LC’s emphasis on “majesty”—he clearly did not approve of Lock’s informal style. But for Alfie it was a welcome breath of fresh air.

“It’s good to see you, sir,” said Alfie. “How are things at the prison? I mean, school.”

“We all very much miss your late-night escape attempts,” said Lock with a wry smile.

“Has Mortimer broken his leg playing rugby yet?”

“Not that I know of.”

“That’s a shame.” Alfie grinned. “What did you mean, a play?”

His teacher looked to the Lord Chamberlain, as if seeking permission to hold the floor. LC nodded and withdrew. Lock continued: “I know it feels like you’re going to be under the spotlight, Alfie, but actually this whole thing isn’t really about you at all. You’re just a prop—a symbol—same as the robes and crowns and even this dusty old chair.”

Alfie knew the professor was trying to make him feel better, but the idea of being “on stage” at all made his knees go weak. “I’ve never really done any acting.”

“Oh, come on, Alfie,” laughed Lock. “I’ve seen you waving at the crowds and smiling. Oscar-winning stuff! Anyway, that’s what rehearsals are for. So, shall we?”

Lock proceeded to guide Alfie through the bizarre sequence of rituals that would make up the coronation ceremony. It was like being back at school, watching his teacher bring to life some chapter from a history textbook, with his easy charisma and boundless knowledge. Even the wizened old Dean of Westminster, who would be leading the service on the day, along with his retinue of clerics and helpers, seemed spellbound by the young professor’s performance.

Lock explained that, like a play, the ceremony had a bunch of different “acts.” They all had very grand names like “the Recognition,” “the Oath,” “the Crowning,” but what they meant in practice was a lot of “face this way, hold this, say that” for Alfie to get his head around.

Next, Alfie had to practice the part of the coronation called “the Anointing.”

“Now don’t be alarmed, Your M-M-Majesty, but before we anoint you with the holy oil, my c-c-colleagues will be placing a c-c-canopy over your head.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.