Muddle Earth Too by Paul Stewart

Author:Paul Stewart [and Chris Riddell, Paul Stewart]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780230761698
Publisher: Pan Macmillan UK

He was colossal, his huge shoulders clad in a black bearskin, his barrel-chest encased in a chain-mail shirt and his tree-trunk legs wrapped in cross-laced fleece to the knee. The sun played on the enormous helmet on his head, gleaming on its burnished bronze surface and glinting on the tips of its magnificent horns.

The Horned Baron turned pale.

With a sweep of one hefty, muscle-bound arm, the barbarian ushered Fifi inside the yak-skin yurt and disappeared after her. The tent-flap dropped back into place.

Up on the stair-carpet, Randalf and the Horned Baron exchanged looks.

‘Of course, we could go in there and teach that barbarian a lesson,’ said Randalf.

‘Errm . . . yes, yes,’ said the Horned Baron.

‘But perhaps we should listen outside before we go rushing in,’ said Randalf.

‘Good idea,’ said the Horned Baron.

‘Scaredy-cats,’ Veronica whispered in Joe’s ear.

‘Lovely stair-carpet,’ said Randalf, ‘hover above that tent as quietly as you can, if you’d be so kind.’

‘Certainly, O great magician,’ whispered the carpet, and swooped down towards the yurt.

As they approached the top of the tent, they heard the sound of voices coming from inside.

‘Magnificent!’ Fifi’s voice rose in excitement. ‘Absolutely magnificent!

‘Do you really think so?’ came a deep, booming barbarian voice. ‘You’re not just saying that?’

‘Oh, no, Hrothgar,’ said Fifi breathlessly. ‘When I say magnificent, I really mean it. They’re so curvy, for a start,’ she went on. ‘And so deliciously pointy.’

‘Yes, they are,’ Hrothgar agreed. ‘I am rather proud of them.’

‘And that’s not all,’ said Fifi. ‘The finish, it’s so flawless! I don’t know how you manage it!’

‘Years of training,’ said Hrothgar modestly. ‘But it’s sweet of you to say so.’

‘I could just stand here all day admiring it,’ said Fifi. She gave a little laugh. ‘But if I did that, Walter would be sure to find out and that would ruin everything! Talking of which, I really must get back home before he misses me . . . Oh, but what’s this?’

‘It’s paint. For your nails,’ said Hrothgar smoothly. ‘It’s all the rage. A barbarian princess called Ella started it. She turned up in Nowhere with black fingernails, and now all the maidens are painting theirs the same colour. I thought you might like it,’ he said.

‘How very thoughtful of you, Hrothgar,’ said Fifi. ‘Anyway, I must dash.’

‘You heard her, comely carpet of splendour,’ hissed Randalf. ‘Get us back to Trollbridge at the double.’

They soared off. The Horned Baron looked back over his shoulder as the yurt receded into the distance.

‘Black fingernail paint!’ the Horned Baron raged. ‘Did you hear that? Black fingernail paint! Just wait till she gets home! I’ll have something to say to her about black fingernail paint – and horned helmets!’

‘Randalf,’ said Joe excitedly, scrambling up to the top step. ‘Randalf, that barbarian knows where Ella is.’

‘Yes,’ said Randalf. ‘Nowhere.’

‘But she’s got to be somewhere,’ said Joe, confused.

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