THE LIGHT IN THE NORTH

CHAPTER 11 - Midsummer Metal

Colonel Klethra Diolkos cleared his throat nervously and knocked on a solid oak door.
“Enter!”
The Premier’s voice sounded so far away. The colonel opened the door and marched smartly across what felt like miles of pale cream carpet, and came to a halt facing a large desk. Behind the desk sat three sprites, and none of them was smiling.
“Colonel Diolkos,” said the Premier. “This won’t take long. I’ve summoned you here so you can tell me why I’ve received this extraordinary report from a civilian court in England. It says here that you have been convicted of a serious crime, namely engineering harm to another species. Is this true?”
“Well, yes, Premier. The army were there, you see. It was a set-up. My unit were outnumbered, they were all arrested. The plan was to…”
“Just a moment,” interrupted the Premier. “I know nothing of any plan. General Huskvarna, do you know of any plan or operation in the north of England?”
“Not a thing, Premier,” said General Huskvarna genially. “I’m intrigued.”
Colonel Diolkos glared at him, but the general just smiled. So that was it. Hung out to dry. They were going to deny it all, and leave him to take the blame.

“I need hardly remind you, Colonel, that Special Brigade is the pre-eminent force in the realm,” said the Premier. “It does not involve itself in petty squabbles. It does not engage in covert operations or underhand tactics. What can have possessed you, I can scarcely imagine. No doubt you had some laudable aim in mind, but such behaviour can never be condoned. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Premier.” There was nothing else he could say. “I can only apologise for the regrettable incident.”
“Regrettable incident,” said General Huskvarna. “Good phrase. I can use that. I think, Premier, that we could perhaps use a little influence on the colonel’s behalf, and get this conviction squashed. Doesn’t look good, does it, a colonel in trouble? Protect the brigade’s reputation. We don’t want the army amusing themselves at our expense.”
“That is a very good point,” said the Premier thoughtfully, as if it had only just occurred to him, and they hadn’t had this all sewn up beforehand. “It will be necessary, though, to show that we don’t take this lightly. As a mark of our disapproval, Colonel, you will be demoted to the rank of major with immediate effect."
“Yes, Premier.”
“General Huskvarna will arrange a new appointment for you. I imagine that will take a few days, so you may as well stay here at Wielkopolska for Midsummer’s Eve. The entertainments this year sound absolutely spectacular. In fact, I do believe I have a spare seat in my private box at the lakeside. Perhaps you would like to join me there, Major Diolkos?”
“Thank you, Premier.”
He manufactured a grateful smile, and as he turned to leave, General Huskvarna flashed some words into his mind.
Meet me in the bar.


When he’d gone, the Premier turned to the sprite on his left, who hadn’t said a word all through the interview.
“Envoy Yantra, when are you leaving for Norway?”
“First thing in the morning, Premier. Is there something you’d like me to do while I’m there?”
“Yes. I want you to take some written orders to our agent. General Huskvarna will give you the package before you leave. It’s time to go on the offensive, I think. The recent defeat in England was a crippling blow. The judiciary in the west is still far too independent, and too many questions are being asked about what we were doing, leaving us with no alternative to abandoning an extremely good plan.”
“It’s infuriating,” said General Huskvarna. “The whole thing had Herdalen’s mark on it from start to finish. Using their own code to feed us false information! They can’t be allowed to get away with it.”
“No, indeed,” said the Premier. “We must strike back, and retaliate in a way that will hurt. The time is right to set our plan in motion, and suborn the one in the prophecy. He is something of a star recruit, I hear, and his loss will hit them hard.”
“We must guard against complacency, though,” said General Huskvarna. ”Even now, it won’t be easy, but I have great faith in Blanche.”
“Whether she succeeds or not, her cover will be blown,” said Envoy Yantra. “Pardon me, General – I’m sure you’ve thought of this – but do her orders cover her own exit strategy?”
“All covered,” said the general, with his wolfish grin.
“And have you remembered that I want his twin too, and allowed for that?” asked the Premier.
“All covered, also.”
“Then all’s well. Impress upon the agent, please, the importance of not rushing. I don’t want speed at the expense of success. Yantra, good luck. I need hardly remind you of the line to take if the subject of the recent defeat should come up in conversation?”
“Regrettable incident,” said Envoy Yantra, his face registering nothing but concern.
“Precisely,” said the Premier, and permitted himself a thin smile.


Special Brigade’s bar wasn’t easy to spot if you didn’t know where it was. It wasn’t lavishly appointed, like the one for the envoys, and it didn’t have a great view. You just went down some steps between the Beehive and the sports hall, and there you were. You pushed open the door to be greeted by the rich smell of German beer, and the deep, quiet conversation of sprites who worked at the sharp end of operations.
Not twittering politicians, thought the newly-demoted major resentfully.
Across the centre of the room were long wooden tables, with benches alongside them, just right for a cheerful get-together. But around the edges were private booths, with little tables and stools, just right for drowning your sorrows. Major Diolkos helped himself to a glass stein from a row on a counter, and drew a foaming measure of beer from a great barrel. Then he headed for the furthest booth, and sat with his head leaning on one arm, and the other arm curled around his glass.


When General Huskvarna joined him, he didn’t look up.
“You stitched me up,” he said.
“I didn’t, you know,” said the general as he sat down. “I know it looks like it, but I didn’t. Someone had to take the blame, and it had to be you. So I tried to minimise the damage. I got you off the charge. I made sure you only lost one rank. And he isn’t really mad at you. An invitation to his private box is really a thank you for taking the blame.”
“I suppose so. You’re trying to cheer me up, I know, but still… demotion. Never looks good, does it? Who’s going to replace me?”
“Officially? As first colonel and deputy commander, it’ll have to be Mento Zsennye.”
“Hah!”
“I know. But unofficially… no-one. I mean it. You and I go way back, and we know where we’re going. This isn’t going to spoil anything. In fact, it could be quite useful.”
Major Diolkos looked more interested, and checked that no-one else was listening.
“You mean the new unit?”
“Exactly.” General Huskvarna lowered his voice. “Who better to lead a unit of misfits and reprobates, than a demoted officer? You lick them into shape, and when the time comes, we’ll have troops right on their doorstep.”
“Is the Premier okay with using Norway as a base?”
“Haven’t told him yet, but he will be. He’ll see it as part of the punishment, getting sent to a place like that, miles from anywhere. You’ll be based at a place called Otta.”
“And that’s near their base, is it?”
“Closest place on the railway.”
Major Diolkos felt his spirits rising. This didn’t sound too bad at all.
“I get a free hand?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’ll make them proud to be renegades. Sprites like them have flair, and independence of thought. Bully them into conformity, and they rebel. Give them a bit of slack, and you get superb soldiers.”
“You’re irreplaceable,” said General Huskvarna with satisfaction. “That’s it, exactly.”
“I want them to have their own badge, like any other specialised unit.”
“You’ve got it,” said the general. “Let me have your ideas for the design, and they’ll be ready before you leave.”
“Thanks, Lars.”
“Work hard,” grinned the general. “They may be needed sooner than you think.”


Ace didn’t know he’d been mentioned in a prophecy, and if he had, it would have intrigued him very much. So it was just as well he didn’t, because he had enough on his mind right now. In fact, he was beginning to despair of ever finding the solution to this one.
He was in the team hut, with Will, Dan and Hogweed, and Phil and Rob, and all of them had gloomy expressions on their faces. The table was covered with sheet music.
“It’s a great honour,” said Hogweed, trying to be cheerful. “Captain Dolfawr said so.”
“He didn’t look very happy, though,” said Dan. “And you can see why. Why on earth did people vote for us to play? Has everyone gone completely bonkers?”
“We’re going to make complete fools of ourselves,” said Will. “As well as ruining Midsummer’s Eve. I don’t know which is worse.”
Ace picked up one of the sheets and frowned at it.
“Edwin’s Reel. Composer, Robin i’the Hood. Date, 1170. 1170? Had chords even been invented then? Diddle-diddle, diddle-diddle, dum-dum-dum – oh, please!”
“Look at this one,” said Phil. “You can tell it was written for a flute – the notes screech up so high above the stave, you lose count.”
“Maybe we should get the fairies to help,” said Phil. “Rose and Clover play flutes, and Camellia plays the violin – though she’s very out of practice.”
Dan shook her head. “They would if we were desperate,” she said, “but they wouldn’t really want to spend the time the rehearsals would take. Not when there’s dresses to make.”
“No, that wouldn’t be fair,” said Ace. “But it’s an option if we really are desperate. As far as I can see, our only other options are to tell Captain Dolfawr that we can’t do it – and I really don’t want to do that – or just play it straight, on the instruments we’ve got, which will sound horrible. It won’t sound traditional, but it won’t sound metal either.”
“Well, it’s up to you,” said Rob, “but I think sounding silly isn’t as bad as letting people down.”
“I think you’re right, Rob,” sighed Ace. “What do you think, Will?”
Then he saw that Will wasn’t listening. He was miles away, concentrating hard on one of the music sheets.
“Wait a minute,” he muttered. “Wait a minute…”
“I love it when you say that,” said Ace. His spirits were rising fast. “Come on, what’ve you spotted?”
Will looked up, smiling.
“I think we can do it,” he said. “This is music for ring dancing… it’s the rhythm that matters, right? Every single piece is in 4/4 time, with a strong first beat. Well, that’s easy enough. We’ll give a whacking great first beat, but keep the bass line heavy all through, with double bass on the drums – you can do that, can’t you, Hogweed?”
“Sure, Will. Can hammer out sixteen too, for some of them – the faster ones, maybe?”
“That’s the idea! Then, we make it sound even more metal, by changing the chords a bit. Look at this one…it’s in E flat major. All we have to do is invert the fifth. Miss out the top two notes of the triad, so you’re only playing the fourths, and you’ll get the right harmony, but still sound metal.”

Dan grabbed her guitar and tried it. She played a full chord of E flat, then played it again, the way Will had said, and her face lit up to hear the difference. She pulled the sheet Will had been looking at and played all the chords for the first line in the same way, and by the time she’d finished, everyone was grinning.
“Oh, yes!” said Ace. “Will, you’re a genius, and so are you, Dan. I don’t know how you can read the chords so quickly. I’ll have to write it out as tabs.”
“I can do that for you, Ace,” said Phil. “We’ve got more spare time than you have. But what do we do about the melody?”
“I think I’m getting the idea now,” said Ace. “Like Will said, it’s the rhythm that matters, the beat – we can play around with the melodies. Simplify them, then send them screaming out, like any solo.”
“Exactly,” said Will. “I think it’ll sound good. Plenty of metal bands use old tunes like these, then they transform them. We’ll still sound like us, but even more important, it won’t spoil the dancing.”
“We’ve cracked it,” said Dan. “The only problem I can see now is learning so many tunes in the time, ‘cos we’ll have to play from memory. Can we split the melodies between us?”
“Split them four ways,” said Rob. “Me and Phil and you and Ace. Then, when you’re not doing the melody, you just play the power chords, so it’s not too much for anyone to learn.”
“Thanks, Rob,” said Will. “I appreciate that.”
“It’s wonderful,” said Ace reverently. “At last, we can play with six, just like the real Iron Maiden.”
“I can’t wait to see Captain Dolfawr’s face,” said Hogweed. “Won’t he be surprised?”


Over the next two weeks, they spent every minute they could rehearsing. Their teams rallied round, doing as much of their work for them as they could, feeling they were sharing in the reflected honour. Dan got a bit depressed when she realised she was still going to have to wear a green dress, but Rose came to the rescue and concocted something special for her. When the night came, and she was dressed in a tight-fitting, sleeveless sheath with a slashed skirt, she felt much better about it. She combed her hair, and left the hut an hour before the other fairies were ready, to go and see to her guitar. She felt even better when she saw that the rest of the band looked as nervous as she felt.
Will and Rob had tight, strained expressions, and Ace and Phil were moving too fast and talking too much and too quickly. As for Hogweed, he looked calm enough on the surface, but then his shaking hands dropped one of his cymbals, and it rolled round and round on the floor, making a terrible noise, getting faster and faster as it spun to a halt. Somehow, that broke the tension, and they all laughed, and quickly finished their preparations.

Once they’d done all they could, they stood back together and looked at the darkened stage. Once the lights were on, everything would shine out, because every instrument was polished to a glittering shine. They hadn’t got flowers on the stage like people usually did, but they’d made a green backcloth and covered it with metal stars, in honour of Midsummer.
“It does look good,” said Dan. “I just hope we sound as good.”
“We’ve done all we can,” said Ace. “It’s time to stop worrying about it now, and enjoy the evening.” He tugged his tunic straight. “Do I still look tidy?”
Dan looked at the elves, in their identical uniforms, and felt very proud of them.
“You look terrific, you all do,” she said. “Even in uniform, you’ve got style. It’s the way you wear them. And as for Hogweed, he looks more metal than ever in that cloak.”
“And you look like an elf in a dress,” grinned Phil.
“Thanks, Phil,” beamed Dan happily.
Ace might have said it was time to stop worrying, but Dan didn’t take in much of the scene in the hall, as the sprites drank from the bowl in their turns. Half her mind was still focused on chord changes and dynamics, and she knew she wouldn’t really relax until she had her guitar in her hands. Then, she’d be all right, she knew. And she was.


From the stage, it was hard to see people’s faces, but it wasn’t long before all the band could see that everyone was dancing just as well and as happily as usual. If anything, it looked a bit more gutsy and determined, as if the strength of metal was getting into their legs and feet. As soon as they knew it was working, they relaxed, and the more they relaxed, the more they were enjoying it themselves. Dan ran across the stage to head-bang with Ace at one side, while Phil and Rob were doing the same thing at the other side. They had time to move, to put on a good show, to watch the dancing. There were rings everywhere, concentric, interlocking, and they knew that the rhythm they were feeling inside them they were sending out through their speakers into the dancers, and the dancers were sending it back to them as they watched, like another great circle.
Dance after dance they played, and the music pounded out across the mountain, and all the while Will and Hogweed kept together, keeping the beat going, underpinning all of it with strength and control. Some they played fast, and some slow, but the last one of all they took at a breathtaking speed. It didn’t daunt the dancers. By now, they were jumping and flying as much as dancing, so that for the band, it was like being in the centre of a green tornado.

As her aching fingers plucked out the last soaring phrase, Dan flew straight up into the air, as far as the cables would let her, and flung her head back as she played, until with her final note, she was hanging motionless in the air. Then she sank down, as the dancers slowed to a halt, and then all around was silence, a silence that was intense and seemed to press upon your ringing ears.
Then the silence was torn apart by a swell of noise, which was the goblins roaring their approval, and on top of that came shrieking whistles, clapping and cheering, as the sprites thanked the band. Ace led them all forward to take a bow, then they stood applauding too, in appreciation of the dancing.
There was something about the unity of it that brought tears to Dan’s eyes.
How can it be that we’re so divided? she thought. At least this unites us, and I hope it always will.

She looked at the scene, drinking it in, knowing that this was a night she would never forget. It seemed impossible now that they’d ever worried about it, or thought they wouldn’t be able to pull it off.
She looked around then at the rest of the band. Phil and Rob were waving happily, Ace was looking stunned and ecstatic both at the same time, and Hogweed was hugging Will as if he didn’t want to put him down. When they finally climbed down from the stage, they found all their friends waiting for them, and it was then they heard about how they’d got so many votes in the first place.
“It was Dale’s doing,” Betch explained. “He went round all the first years telling them to vote for Wildside, and wow, am I glad he did. That was awesome.”
“You always sound good,” said Clover seriously, “but that was just so special. I couldn’t see how you were going to manage it, but you did.”
“Very fine musicianship,” said Captain Dolfawr, coming to congratulate them. “Very clever, to invert the chords like that, it worked beautifully.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Ace. “It was Will who thought of that. Have you got used to our sound now then, sir?”
“I like it better than I ever thought I would! In fact, I wouldn’t mind trying a guitar.”
“Really? Come on, sir, you can have a go of mine!” grinned Ace.
Dan stared with amazement at the captain sitting on the edge of the stage, trying out Ace’s guitar. You couldn’t ask for better approval than that. But she didn’t get long to stare, because someone else was coming to congratulate her, and it was Sergeant Svir, resplendent in a gown that wouldn’t have looked out of place at the Russian Imperial court. She praised the music, but what she really wanted to do was congratulate Dan on her flying.
“What a moment of sheer beauty you gave us at the end there,” she said. “That was the most perfect frozen hang I ever saw. And to do that with the weight of your guitar in your hands… well, I hope all the first years were watching that!”


Dan was so amazed, she could hardly stammer out her thanks. She wasn’t used to getting compliments on her flying. Feeling that life couldn’t possibly get better than this, she followed her friends as the sprites began to drift away in their orders for the refreshments. Madge, Heather and Poppy came to join them as they settled down on rugs on the grass. Dan looked around at them all. How pretty they were in their elegant gowns, how gracefully they sat, how lightly they chatted. As usual, she felt out of place, but she didn’t let it worry her. She’d long ago accepted that she’d never quite fit in anywhere, and she was far too happy to mind about that tonight. She drank a whole glass of apple juice in one long draught, because she was so thirsty, then lay on her back on the grass, looking at the stars and letting the conversation wash over her.
Madge was telling Rose and Clover about Preston, how brave and clever David and Aesculus had been, and how she and Heather had done battle in a courtroom, and had won. Nearby, she could hear Camellia chatting excitedly about the dancing to Bella and Stella, and Holzia and Detia having a lively discussion about the best recipe for cordial.
“Where are you going next, Madge?” Rose was asking.
“I’ll be here on camp for a week or two,” said Madge. “Training… something about a new code. It sounds terribly difficult. After that, though, I’ll be back on Guidance work, I think.”


Carda came to join Dan then, so Dan sat up.
“Great music, partner!” said Carda. “Knew you’d be good. I’ve just been to see Ratzo, and d’you know what, General Saal was talking to Hogweed! Imagine that! Everyone says he never bothers with the recruits, but he was there, telling Hogweed he was an inspiring example of goblin dignity and talent.”
“Brilliant,” said Dan. “He so deserves it. He’s quite a leader among the goblins, isn’t he?”
“I’ll say. Ratzo thinks a lot of him, says he’s the cleverest goblin he knows.”
“He is,” said Dan, “but cleverness isn’t everything. There’s no malice in him at all. He thinks the best of everyone, and his heart is just full of loyalty. And he played so well tonight. He and Will really kept the rhythm going.”
“You all did, it was great. All our team voted for you. I’ve never danced so hard in my life, it felt wonderful. Actually, I could do with another drink, couldn’t you?”
“I wouldn’t mind,” said Dan.
The two fairies got up and wandered across the grass together, slowly winding between the rugs and smiling at friends in the little knots of fairies, but not stopping to chat. It was past midnight now, and the pearly light was faint, but fairy lights hung from the trees, casting little pools of rose and amber light. It made Blanche look as if she had pink hair, Dan thought, amused, then wondered why Blanche was sitting by herself on the edge of the crowd. It wasn’t like her.
She looks like she’s planning to slip off, thought Dan, and looked around uneasily, wondering where Ace was. She didn’t know exactly what had happened between Ace and Blanche, but she knew Will thought Blanche was bad news, and that was all Dan needed to know.
There was no sign of Ace or any other elf around, though, so Dan relaxed, and she and Carda spent a while choosing what to have, from the bewildering array of drinks set out on the long table. Finally choosing something that was purple and smelled deliciously fruity, they walked off again, to make room for others, and leaned on the low wall that separated the Concourse from the lawns.

“The elves are making a terrific noise,” said Carda. “What’s going on over there?”
“It’s the first years,” said Dan. “I can see Rob, he’s so tall. What are they up to?”
Just then, they saw the tiny flares of matches being lit, and a great scurrying in the shadows, and then shooting sparks of daffodil yellow and shining silver erupted into the air with a rushing noise.
“Fireworks!” shouted Dan. “Oh, brilliant!”
Dozens of other fairies came rushing over to see, and there were shouts of surprise and wonder from all around. The elves were all cheering, as the first row of fireworks died down, and were replaced by soaring golden fountains, then noisy, exciting bangers, that shot red balls in the air that exploded with showers of stars. Everyone was watching by then, whooping and cheering, gasping with amazement at the skill that had put together such a treat.
“Who’s done this?” said Dan. “And where did they get the gunpowder?”
“No idea!” laughed Carda. “Isn’t it brilliant!”
Everyone was clapping, after a fine show of tumbling green serpents, then there was a pause, as if the elves were setting up something special as a finale. Sure enough, after a few moments, rocket after rocket soared into the air, bursting one after another with great timing into domes of falling stars, crimson and green, or silver and gold. But then something went wrong. It looked as if one of the rockets had been knocked over. There were yells of warning from the elves, and suddenly a flaming missile shot across the crowd. Several large goblins ducked as the rocket flew low over their heads, then struck the side of the stage. It flared briefly, then went out in a fizzle of red sparks, but the damage had been done. It had set the stage curtains on fire.
“My guitar!” said Dan fearfully.
She was about to take off, to go to the rescue, when she saw that the first years had been prepared for unexpected accidents. Two of their fairies, Lily and Camellia, flew over at once with buckets of water, and put the flames out before too much damage was done.


Once it was clear that there was no danger, there was a lot of laughter, and a lot of applause for the entertaining show. The crowd shifted, some to get another drink, and some to walk in peace under the midsummer sky, thinking their own thoughts. Dan and Carda made their way towards the stage, expecting to find Hogweed and Ratzo there. Sure enough, the goblins were there, with all their friends, chatting and laughing and packing up the equipment. Ace was there, talking to Phil and Rob, and Dan was glad to see that he wasn’t off being mesmerised by frost fairies.
“Yeah, it was Dale who kicked his rocket over,” Phil was saying, “but he did pretty well, really. And everyone joined in. But yes, it was kind of our team who pulled it all together.”
“Knew you’d keep up the good work,” said Ace. “Great stuff, Phil.”
Once all the work was done, someone brought more drinks over, and the band and their friends settled down near the stage, talking over the evening and watching the sky grow lighter. There was just one person who wasn’t there.
“Ace,” said Dan, “where’s Will?”
Ace turned to her with a smile that was just tinged with sadness.
“He went to cheer Dale up,” he said. “But that was ages ago. He’s away across camp now, and probably on his own. Just remembering, you know?”
Then Dan remembered how Ace and Will had always finished Midsummer’s Eve, back on Wildside. On their own, in their trees. It was plain to see that it still hurt, on a night like this.
She didn’t say anything, just nodded and squeezed Ace’s arm sympathetically. Ace could take comfort in the company of his friends, but Will needed solitude, and Ace understood that, none better.

Will wasn’t the only one walking the forests that night. No-one minded. It was an understood thing that it was a time for reflection as well as merriment. All the same, when Blanche had slipped away, she’d taken care that no-one should see her. Taking advantage of the excitement of the fireworks, when everyone’s attention had been drawn away in the same direction, she quietly walked into the trees, then briskly made her way to the meeting place that she and the envoy had arranged, the last time they had spoken on the phone.
She didn’t have long to wait. It seemed as if the envoy had spotted the same opportunity to make himself scarce.
“Envoy Yantra,” she greeted him seriously.
“Lieutenant Hakarp,” said the envoy, “good work. I don’t need to tell you that we mustn’t be too long. I have a package for you.”
He looked around with great care, then handed it over.
“It’s from General Huskvarna, and it contains all you need to know to finish your work here. I don’t know what’s in it. All I know is that the original plan has been refined, and the Premier himself has contributed to it.”
“Thank you, Envoy. Any word on timing, do you know?”
“Ah, I’m glad you mentioned that. It’s the Premier’s express wish that nothing is sacrificed for the sake of speed.”
“So basically, he doesn’t care how long it takes, so long as it works?”
“Within reason, yes,” said Envoy Yantra.
“It shouldn’t take too much longer,” said Blanche. “But I’ll need to read all this carefully before finalising my plans.”
“I leave the day after tomorrow,” said the envoy. “I will be in this glade at this time tomorrow, in case you should have any questions you want me to pass on.”
“Understood,” said Blanche. “Goodnight, Envoy.”


Midsummer always felt like a short holiday at the Fjaerland camp, but once the visitors had gone, it was back to work as usual. One week later, Ace slung a dish cloth out of the window to dry, then, satisfied he’d left the canteen kitchen tidy, raced off towards Classroom One, on his own for once. Will was off camp with Colonel Dünnwald. They’d been gone since long before dawn, placing this parabolic dish, and they were on their way back now, but still far off. Will wasn’t going to be back in time for class, but that wouldn’t matter, because Sergeant Olt, who taught Tactics, knew where he was.
Ace arrived just as the sergeant did, and he sank into his seat, pleased to notice that he wasn’t even out of breath. He’d lost a lot of fitness over the last few months, what with one thing and another, and it was great to feel he’d got it all back. He felt ready for anything, and fizzing with confidence, because this was his favourite class.

Sergeant Olt tipped out a box of coloured chalks, and began to draw a diagram on a board as he talked.
“Last time, we talked about terrain,” he said. “What were the main things to remember about that? Droz?”
“Seize the high ground,” said Droz firmly.
“Very good. Crocus?”
“Work out the advantages and disadvantages of any terrain, and make sure you get the advantages and the enemy gets the disadvantages.”
“Excellent. Anything else? Yes, Zoza?”
“Use the natural features. Like, say, if there was a river, be on the other side of it, so the enemy had to cross it to get to you.”
“That’s the idea. Now, today’s lesson is almost the reverse of that – what to do when the enemy got there first, and has taken all that good advice. How can you turn the tables on an enemy who’s already got all the best positions? Any competent leader should be able to use advantages. A great one can counteract disadvantages. Now, this scenario,” said the sergeant, pointing to his diagram, “is an extreme example of such a case. Your objective is the fortification marked ‘X’, at the end of this road. You must reach it before the enemy troops do. But – and this is where it gets difficult – the road runs through a mountain pass, and the enemy, who knows this area better than you do, knew you would have to come this way. He left behind a strong defence force, to hold that pass against you. There is another road, but it’s much longer. If you take that road, you may encounter the main body of the enemy force, and you may not reach the objective first. Here are the defences – a wall, built right across the road. Up on the mountainside, enemy positions here, here and here – some before the wall, and some beyond it. Further back, and higher still, their main camp.”
“How many have they got, what sort of force?” asked Ross.
“Only a quarter of your numbers, but mostly heavy troops. Their light troops are with the main body, which is searching for you, and hoping to beat you to the fortification. Any more questions?”
“What country are we in, and what time of year is it?” asked Ace.
“It’s rocky country, with patches of thick woodland,” said the sergeant. “It’s the middle of winter, it’s bitterly cold, but you can count on eight hours of darkness. Anyone else? No? OK then, what are you going to do?”

They all started hard at the diagram a bit longer, then Alnus spoke hesitantly.
“It’s clear you’ll get missiles from above as soon as you enter the pass. Could have a lot of casualties before you even get near the wall. I think I’d send flyers to pelt their high positions and distract the defenders, and use the chance to move heavy troops in to try to breach the wall.”
“Good,” said the sergeant. “Do you think that would stop all the missiles coming down, though?”
“No,” said Gran, “they’ve got heavy troops up there. Some would still get through, and one goblin with a big stone can cause a lot of damage. But I agree with Alnus, that would be the thing to try. I think success would depend on speed and numbers. You’d have to move thick and fast, because the wall’s the key. Once you’re past that, you can take out their positions from below. You’re attacking uphill, so it would be costly, but numbers would tell in the end.”
“Far too costly!” said Crocus. “I think you’re forgetting that the objective isn’t to defeat this force, but to reach the fortification. You don’t know where the main body of the enemy is, and trying to gain the pass is wasting time. I would take the longer road, because it might well be quicker in the end.”
Ross shook his head, and so did Ace.
“Go on, Ross,” said the sergeant. “What’s wrong with that?”
“The defenders will have seen you,” he said. “As soon as you leave, they’ll head for the fortification, and they’ve not got far to go at all.”
“They’ve got orders to defend the pass,” Crocus argued.
“They might have been told to move if you moved,” said Ace. “It’d be taking a big chance.”
“Ah, then what you have to do is leave some spies!” exclaimed Droz. “Then, if the enemy leaves, they’ll tell you, and you can just double back, and stroll through the pass!”
“Very ingenious, Droz,” smiled the sergeant. “But as Ross said, they’ve not got far to go. By the time you’d done all that, they’d be there.”
“But they’re heavy troops,” said Sizzle. “If you sent flyers, they could overtake them. But I suppose they’d have a job fighting off the heavy troops when they arrived, while they were waiting for their own reinforcements.”
“That is the trouble,” said the sergeant sympathetically. “Unless you happened to have a whole imp squadron with you, then I don’t think that would work.”
“Yes, but if it was me, I probably would have,” Sizzle pointed out. “Yes… I think I would send everyone else by the longer road, then just send a squadron to fly right over the pass, whether the defenders leave it or not, to take the fortification and hold it until the others arrive.”
“That could be costly,” said the sergeant, “but given the right troops, it could work.”
“I think I’d go at night,” said Zoza thoughtfully. “Very slowly and quietly, get people past that wall one by one, and then when everyone was through, attack uphill while it was still dark, You’d have the element of surprise to compensate for having to attack uphill.”
“Excellent thinking, Zoza,” said Sergeant Olt encouragingly. “It’s bold, and if you did get everyone through, I think it would be successful. I must admit, that was the way my own mind was working at first. It’s risky, of course – it would go hard on the ones who would be stranded, if they spotted you when only a few had got through. But sometimes it’s right to take risks. If you had well-disciplined troops with you, whom you could trust to move quietly and carefully, then it would be a calculated risk, and worth taking.”
“It does seem like the wall is the key,” said Ross. “You could do it slowly, like Zoza said, or fast, like Gran said. I think I’d go for fast, myself. I think I’d split my force, and send the slowest by the long road, because they’re bigger and stronger, and if they meet the main enemy force, they should be able to beat them, and get to the fortification. Then I’d only have good flyers and jumpers at the pass, who could clear the wall at speed.”
“I agree with that,” said Cor. “I think you could make it even better by using camouflage there, and attacking at half-light. It would make the targets very hard to spot.”
“I don’t think it would help that much, Cor,” said Lauro. “You’d be all in a mass, like one big target. I think it would work better if you had the elves jump the wall, and the flyers pelt the defenders at the same time, like Alnus said.”


Long ago, after the first lesson, Sergeant Olt had asked Ace to hold off in class until everyone else had had their say. Now, the sergeant caught his eye and gave him a quick nod, as if to say, go on, it’s your turn.
“The trouble is,” said Ace, “that every time you’ve got to attack uphill against heavy troops. They’ve got the advantage of the high ground, but there’s higher ground available. I think that what you have to do is get above them. I agree with Ross about splitting the force. I’d send the biggest and strongest by the long road, because I’m worried about where that other force is. I’d give them some good fast flyers for air support, but I’d keep back any flyers who can fight, and leave them behind the wall, with orders to light a lot of fires and make a lot of noise.”
Sergeant Olt was trying not to smile, and Ace felt encouraged.
“Then, as soon as it was dark, I’d take everyone else up that mountain behind the enemy positions – can I come and point on the board, Sergeant?”
“Go ahead, Ace.”
He slipped between the desks and was soon showing them what he meant.
“You’ve got cover of trees, here, and it would be dark. It’s winter, so it would be very cold and hard for the troops, but there’d probably be wind and snow to cover any noise. When I got to this point here, this saddle, I’d split the troops again. I’d send half beyond the enemy camp, and tell them to wait for a signal, then I’d take the rest along here, above the enemy positions. At first light, we’d get a signal from the flyers we left at the wall – a shrieking whistle would do it – and then as they cleared the wall by flying, I’d take out the enemy positions from above, driving them downwards towards the flyers. Between us, we’d drive them back towards their own camp.”
“Where you left the other half,” said Ross. “Neatly trapping them in the middle. Brilliant. How d’you do that?”
“Er, I’m not sure,” said Ace modestly, as he went back to his seat.

“He does it by looking outside the box,” said Sergeant Olt. He drew a big box on his diagram, neatly containing the wall and the enemy positions, but not the rest of the mountain. “All your attention was focused on the problems, you were all looking inside the box. Now, there was nothing wrong with any of your ideas. You all came up with suggestions that could well have worked. But Ace looks outside the box, and that’s why his ideas are always imaginative. You have to think of the risks, too, though. For that plan to succeed, Ace would have had to be sure of four things. Can you tell me what they would have been?”
“That the flyers at the wall would remember to signal when they attacked,” said Sizzle.
“Good. What else?”
“He’d have to have a good second, who could take command of the half section, and lead them into the fight at the right moment,” said Ross. He looked at the empty desk beside Ace’s, and grinned at him. “But if it was you, you probably would have.”
“And you’d have to be sure that they wouldn’t be seen or heard as they climbed the mountain,” said Alnus.
“Very good,” said the sergeant. “And the last thing?”
“You’d have to be the sort of leader,” said Zoza quietly, “who could get tired troops to spend all night climbing a mountain in the cold and the dark, and then go into a fight and win it. You’d have to make them believe they could do it. Ace is that kind of leader. I’m not.”
“Thank you, Zoza,” said the sergeant kindly. “That’s exactly what I had in mind, and it leads me to a very important point. There’s no right or wrong answer in Tactics. That was the right answer for Ace – and it was the right answer for the human who faced this scenario in real life – but that doesn’t mean it would be the right answer for everyone. Thinking of a bold and imaginative plan is good, but your next thought must always be, with the troops I’ve got, can I pull this off? If you’re not sure, then adjust your ideas. A cautious plan that succeeds is always better than a bold one that fails. Now, I’ve got another scenario for you, and this time I want you to work alone, and write down your ideas. I want you to think about the terrain, and most of all to think outside the box.”


When the lesson was over, Ace hung back for a word with the sergeant.
“Who was he?” he asked.
The sergeant knew what he meant, and smiled.
“His name was Alexander,” he said. “He lived a very long time ago, but no-one’s ever equalled him. No human, anyway. You can read all about him if you want to. There’s a book in the library... a yellow one, I think it is.”
“Thanks, Sergeant, I’ll do that,” said Ace.


Will was back now, but Ace quickly realised he was in General Széchenyi’s office, so he was probably hard at work on the Internet connection, and wouldn’t want to be disturbed. He went to the canteen, glad he wasn’t on duty this time, because it was heaving. He saw Rose and Clover, but he didn’t join them, because the fairies were all shrieking with laughter together, something about Holzia’s birthday. Instead, he went to sit with Phil and Rob.
“I’m in trouble,” said Phil.
“You? What on earth for?” asked Ace in amazement.
“It’s Corporal Viella. She was really angry with me for pretending to be no good at Textiles. She gave me hard labour for telling lies.”
“Oh, Phil, I’m sorry,” said Ace. “That’s our fault. We were so worried you’d end up doing artistic stuff, and hate it.”
“Don’t you dare be sorry,” said Phil fervently. “I was very grateful for the warning. I didn’t tell her who warned me, of course, but I did tell her why I’d done it. She called me a silly elf, and now I’ve got to go in Advanced, but I’m allowed to think of a project that I’d enjoy doing, I don’t have to join in with the fairies doing the new banners.”
“How did she find out?” said Ace.
“It was those dresses the fairies were making, the posh ones for Midsummer. Lily wanted this swirly skirt that would fly out in a circle when she was dancing, and that’s very difficult. The corporal heard her telling someone who’d helped her.”
“Too kind-hearted for your own good,” said Ace sympathetically. “Cheer up! There must be loads of exciting things to make using textiles. Stuff that fairies wouldn’t be interested in, and no-one else can do. Parachutes, sails, waterproof coats, inflatable toys…”
“Sails?” said Phil. “Sails for boats?”
“Yes, the army’s got lots of boats, you’ll be doing boats soon, I expect. The sail on General Herdalen’s boat’s got more patches than Hogweed’s trousers.”
“You’ve got some imagination!” said Rob. “We’ve been racking our brains for ideas, and you come up with all those, just like that!”
“Ah, but I couldn’t make them,” said Ace. “Takes Phil for that.”


Leaving Phil looking happy and thoughtful, Ace went off to the library. He knew where it was, but he’d never been in here before. Will had, and had reported that there wasn’t much science, but it was strong on medical stuff, and also on history, both sprite and human. Ace pushed the door open cautiously, and found himself in a cool room, very pleasant after the heat outside. The shelves for the books went all the way round the walls, and all the way up to the ceiling, with a cunning sliding ladder to help you reach the ones at the top. The books were sensibly arranged by colour, that being what people would remember, and it gave the impression of a rainbow going round the room.
Ace looked through the yellow books, and soon found the one he was looking for. There were plenty of places to sit and read – an elderly fairy from Signals looked up and smiled at him from a comfortable armchair where she was reading poetry – and Ace smiled back at her and sat down at a desk. After a few pages, his mouth dropped open. A few more, and he was grinning with relish. Hours passed, and he didn’t even notice, until Will finally messaged him.
Are you in the library?
Mmmm…
Crumbs. Didn’t know you even knew where it was.
Cheek. Anyone would think I couldn’t read. So, how did it go? Is Fjaerland now part of the world wide web?
I wish. No, that’s just the start. The antennae are being made in Germany, at Technical HQ, they’re not here yet. But the dish was easy enough to make, and I think the colonel just wanted the fun of setting it up while he was here.
Well done, Will. It’s a shame it all has to be so secret. You deserve a medal for this.
Oh, I’m enjoying it. It’s getting so exciting. But if you’re studying, I don’t want to interrupt. I’m in the mess now, helping Dale with some maths.
Why, what time is… huh? It’s that late? Right, I’ll just finish this chapter and I’ll come and join you.
OK, see you soon.


Ace put the book back and left the library, truly astonished at the time. He didn’t know if he’d ever sat still for that long before. But then he remembered that he had – when he’d been trying to save his tree – and the sudden thought hurt so sharply that he had to stand still for a minute. Nearly two years ago, now… he closed his eyes. It was so quiet. There was no-one around. He could almost smell the leaves, and feel the rough bark under his hands. He felt strangely disconnected, and in that state, he suddenly knew that someone was trying to message him. Someone at quite a distance, someone inexperienced… he opened his eyes in surprise as he realised it was Blanche, and that she sounded upset.
Ace… oh, Ace, please help me!
Blanche? It is you, isn’t it? What’s wrong? Where are you?
I’m in the Deep Glade, I had to get away. Everything’s gone wrong. I can’t do this any more.
Hey, don’t worry! It’s hard sometimes, I know, but you can do it.
Oh, Ace, I don’t mean the training. You don’t understand. There’s no way out for me, except to leave. I’m going to run away.
What! You mustn’t do that!
I have to. It’s the only answer. But I so want to see you before I go… to say goodbye. Will you meet me? Please?
Ace thought hard, his mind in a daze, then answered firmly.
Yes. Yes, I will. Just stay there, Blanche, and I’ll come as soon as I can. Wait for me, OK? And don’t do anything hasty.
Thank you, Ace. I’ll wait for you. It means the world to me that you would come to me like this.


Ace shook his head to clear his thoughts, then got to the mess as fast as he could, breaking rules by jumping on the paths. For once, he got away with it, and went straight to Will. Will was sitting next to Dale, scrawling figures on a pad, but it was Dale who was talking. Lily and Camellia were sitting close by, listening, and they looked rather impressed. Will turned his head as Ace got near, a smile of welcome on his face, that faded to concern when he saw Ace’s expression.
“What’s wrong?” he said quietly.
“I need to ask you something.”
Will got up and came closer, and the others, seeing they needed to talk privately, politely turned away, chatting to each other.
“Go on,” said Will.
“It’s Blanche. She just messaged me. She wants me to go to her, in the Deep Glade. She’s breaking her heart about something, and says she’s going to run away. I want to help her, but I won’t go unless you say I can.”
Will didn’t need to say how sceptical he felt about that. His expression said it all for him.
“What if it’s a trap?”
“I honestly don’t think it is, Will. She sounded really upset – and beginner’s messaging, you know? The kind where you only get through because you’re all emotional about something.”
“Hmm. At the first sign of Special Brigade – in fact, of anyone else besides Blanche – you message me, then run like a rabbit.”
“I promise.”
“All right, then – you’ve got half an hour. After that, I’m coming to meet you, in case she starts mesmerising you again.”
Ace smiled at his twin.
“Thanks for understanding.”
“Just take care – because if this is a set-up, Gran’ll kill me with his bare hands.”


The Deep Glade was far off in the Southern Forest, and the ground was thick with lush growth, so Ace went up into the canopy for speed. He jumped from branch to branch in the soft evening light, with long shadows flickering past on his left. As he got close to the glade, he slowed down, remembering Will’s warning. He looked around carefully, checking for hidden ambushes, but there was nothing to be seen. Just Blanche, like a white star, sitting on a log with her head in her hands. Quietly, he jumped down and walked across the grass towards her. She looked up, and her face was wet with tears.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for coming.”
He sat down next to her and put his arm round her.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Blanche.”
She tried to smile. “It’s all your fault, you beautiful elf.”
“My fault? Why, what’ve I done?”
“Oh, nothing. Nothing but be yourself. So kind, so brave. I just can’t do it.”
“Do what? What are you saying? D’you mean it’s true? You really did come here to trap me?”
“Will knew all along, didn’t he? Yes, it’s true. Don’t think too harshly of me. I was just doing my job, doing what I was asked by people I knew and trusted.”
She started crying then, and laid her head on Ace’s shoulder. Ace’s mind was in a whirl, but he tried to get a grip. They didn’t have much time.
“I’m sorry!” sobbed Blanche. “If you only knew how sorry… but this is why I have to go. Now that I know you, I can’t betray you. But if I fail them, they will kill me. My only chance now is to run away, go somewhere they’ll never find me.”
“Blanche, no, it doesn’t have to be like that! Stay here. Tell the Commander what you’ve told me, she will see you’ve changed your heart, and keep you safe, she’ll protect you from Special Brigade.”
“I wish I could believe that. I’d love to stay. It’s so much nicer here than anything I’ve ever known. But they’d get me in the end. And Ace, I have to warn you! They want you on their side, but if they don’t get you, they’ll kill you, too.”
“They want me on their side? What on earth for? Well, they can whistle for that, they’ve got no chance. And as for killing me, they’ll have a job. I’m not afraid of them, and you shouldn’t be either.”

Blanche just shook her head, despairingly. Ace reflected that maybe she had a point. He was only an enemy, but they’d see Blanche as a traitor. It was easy to imagine how ruthless Special Brigade would be with a traitor.
“Are you sure it’s worth the risk?” he asked softly. “What made you change your mind?” Then he thought he understood. It was only two days past full moon. “It was the Tree, wasn’t it? He spoke to you?”
“Which tree? Oh, that Tree! Ah, no… I’ve heard that he speaks to people, but he’s never spoken to me. No, it was just you, Ace. I had orders… new orders, at Midsummer… and when I read them, I knew I couldn’t do it. Sooner or later, I have to bring you over to their side.”
“Sooner or later?” said Ace, thinking fast. “Then listen – you don’t have to go tonight. Stay as long as you can, because you never know what might happen.”
She looked up then, looked right into his eyes, and Ace could see she was wavering. He felt the familiar sensation that he was drowning, but he also sensed that Will was getting nearer.
“I haven’t got much time,” said Ace. “Will’s coming. Please, Blanche, promise me you’ll stay – at least for a while, to give us chance to think about this, to think what to do.”
“Oh, please don’t tell Will!” Blanche exclaimed, jumping up. “All right… I’ll promise, if you’ll promise not to tell Will!”
She seemed to be standing in a pool of light, and Ace was at her feet, as if her beauty was shining down on him.
“I promise,” he sighed. Then he knew he had to dig deep, as deep as Will could, to find just the right thing to say, to reassure her. “If we only have a short time left together, then every day counts,” he said. “You’re risking so much for me. What can I say, except, thank you?”
He stood up then, and stroked her hair, and wiped away a tear from her face.
“He’s nearly here,” he whispered.
Blanche tried to smile, then leaned over and kissed him. Then she swirled round and took off, soaring above the trees. Ace stood with his face towards the sky and watched her go.


He met Will at the edge of the glade.
“I am so sorry,” he said, “to drag you all the way out here, you must be shattered.”
“That’s OK,” said Will. “But yeah, I am a bit tired. Not much sleep last night, but the Internet is much more important than sleep. Oh, and so are you, too. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Was just remembering the paintballing. Oh, wasn’t that a moment, seeing all their faces when they realised what we’d done?”
“Brilliant,” Will agreed with a grin. “One of the best ever.”
They started walking back towards camp, side by side, in companionable silence.
Eventually, Will said, “She told you not to tell me what it was about, did she?”
“Mm-hm. I had to promise, but I got her to promise something important in exchange.”
“Important for her, or for us, or for the army?”
“Taking the long view, all of those,” said Ace.
“And taking the short view?”
“Risky.”
“I see. And if I knew what all this was about, would I be worried?”
“Yes, very,” said Ace.
“Is there anything you need me to do?”
“Just trust me. Even if no-one else does… even if I do things that seem strange. I haven’t got a plan yet, but whatever it is, it won’t be easy. Can you?”
“I can see you’ve not been mesmerised, which considering you’ve been sitting in a romantic glade with a weeping frost fairy, is nothing short of amazing,” said Will. “If you ask me to trust you, Ace, I will trust you, even if every logical argument in the universe is crying out against it.”
“Thank you,” said Ace seriously. “That’s more powerful than a can of Irn-Bru. I feel like I can do anything now. Come on, let’s jump the rest of the way.”


They raced back, dodging between the trees and jumping over clumps of brambles, and finally juddered to a halt near Signals.
“I just need to nip in and see if there’s a message from Colonel Dünnwald,” said Will.
“Right, you do that, then get off to bed,” said Ace. “We’re on early duty again tomorrow, and you need your sleep.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“Oh, I’ll just take a last walk around camp,” said Ace airily. “This time of night, you never know who you might meet.”
Will’s face dawned into a grin of understanding.
“She never said I couldn’t tell anyone else,” said Ace.