So it was as that great age came to a close that the Baroness Erica del Erica was rescued by a Kingdom wizard, whose name has been lost in the annals of history. She was taken to the great Castle where the King ruled over all the Kingdom, and nursed back to health, although her hand would never regrow.

As she rested, word of her adventures in Aisorbma spread, as word about such things has a wont to do. Many young men and women from across the Kingdom - and most especially those who lurked around the Royal court hoping for favour from the King and Queen in the same way that seagulls follow fishing boats hoping to steal some of the catch for themselves - came to see such a great heroine and hear her words. She was in little mood to speak much of the time, but one enthusiast was present on a rare occasion when she actually spoke of what had come to pass, and being young and enthusiastic, he immediately began to sharpen his sword.

When will these people learn that violence is not the way? The following is reconstructed from contemporary records.

Episode Three: Royal Patronage

The rasping sound of honing stone on steel made an unusual complement to the oscillating whirr of the dynamo cycle as Lady Gillian del Freya pedalled to charge up the large array of batteries stacked under the table with the microwave on it. Reclining in a comfortable chair, her son sharpened his sword with a series of delicate strokes with the honing stone. Eventually, she slowed her pedalling and looked round at him.

'Wilt thou not help?' she demanded, gesturing at the second cycle connected to the batteries.

'I am already occupied,' Tarek ir Teriss complained, setting his sword down even as he did so. Experience had taught him not to argue with his mother, even though he'd reached the age of sixteen several months ago.

'If thou pedalst with thine great energy of youth, thou canst sharpen thine sword whilst the pudding doth cook,' Lady Gillian told him firmly, and that was that.

Once the batteries were fully charged, Tarek returned to the chair and started honing the other side of his sword blade while his mother poured rice, sugar, milk and nutmeg into a large bowl and placed it in the microwave.

'Why dost thou not employ thy servants to charge the batteries for thee?' Tarek asked as the microwave hummed into life. When he was little, he'd always liked to watch the bowl of what would soon be rice pudding rotating on the turntable inside. He still liked to see it, because it meant rice pudding would soon be on the table.

'Because it doth help to maintain our fitness when we pedal for ourselves,' Lady Gillian told him, busying herself looking for bowls in the cabinet reserved solely for that purpose. 'And I must also confess to a feeling of great satisfaction when I doth behold that my family eat only rice pudding which I hath prepared for them.'

'What of all the other food we doth eat?' Tarek asked, gesturing at several almost-empty plates, the remains of the sumptuous main course prepared in the castle kitchens for them.

'That food is but ordinary food,' Lady Gillian told him. 'It was my thought that we have had this discussion oftimes before.'

The microwave chose that moment to interrupt with a pinging sound, and Lady Gillian quickly stirred the steaming almost-rice-pudding before setting it running again. 'It will not take long to cook now,' she assured her son. 'Goest thou and findest thine father'

Tarek found his father in the living area of their quarters, reading reports of the expenses incurred by a recent grand tournament.

'Is the rice pudding ready?' he asked when Tarek told him his mother wanted him in the dining room.

'Yes father,' Tarek replied.

'Excellent,' Lord Samfr de Samfr said, and rose from his seat. 'I hear that you hath been this very morning to see the Baroness Erica del Erica.'

'I have.'

'What hast thou learned from her?'

'She doth be a great heroine of the Kingdom,' Tarek said. 'All should strive to emulate her deeds.'

They sat at the table for rice pudding, served fresh and steaming hot from the microwave. Tarek preferred it from the oven, but that took a long time to cook and it wasn't always possible to have it. Today they had to make do with microwaved.

After they had eaten the pudding in the silence it deserved, Tarek washed, dressed in his smartest clothes and departed for the Royal Court. It was bustling as usual with people dressed in their finest clothes, all hoping for Royal favour. Tarek pushed his way through to the front of the room, near the marble dais upon which sat the enormous and highly ornate thrones of the King and Queen. The King's throne was made of gold with thick purple velvet padding, and decorated with fanciful carvings of plants, animals and people bowing down in reverence. The Queen's throne, smaller and designed for a woman to sit upon, was made of glass with decorations similar to those on the King's throne etched on its surface.

Just as Tarek got to the dais, a herald banged his staff on the floor five times and announced in a great voice, 'The King and Queen doth approach! Silence, for the King and Queen!'

Silence fell instantly, and moments later the King entered the throne room, closely followed by the Queen. A middle-aged man, King Arit fre Togr wore his crimson robes of state. Queen Srindra del Bou wore a figure-hugging dress of exactly the same shade of crimson, cut low enough to show considerable cleavage. Many of the older courtiers had expressed the opinion that such a dress was entirely unsuitable for a Queen who wished to wield any kind of authority, but Queen Srindra had sufficient presence that her clothing made little impact on her overall aura of command. Even more so than the King, she radiated the confident assurance that she was in total charge of all she surveyed.

The rulers of the Kingdom seated themselves, then the King cleared his throat and spoke.

'Noble Lords, Barons, Marquis and gentles all, thine excellent habit of spreading all news within the Castle means that thou must surely have heard of the exploits of the Baroness Erica del Erica. After much consultation with our advisers and many hours of patient thought, my Queen and I hath devised a strategy for following up her excellent move.'

There was an almost stunned silence as the realisation sank in. The King intended to mount further raids on Aisorbma. Tarek felt his heart beating faster - the two realms had never been friendly, but deliberate attacks had always been rare. Up until now. The Queen spoke.

'Noble Lords, I perceive by thine countenances that ye hath truly seen to the heart of our strategy. A raid against Aisorbma of such great success and advantage to our cause can truly not be left without wresting whatever advantage we can from it.

'Thus, your noble King and myself call upon all of skill and bravery who wouldst venture across the border into the realm of Aisorbma to come to us for our blessing afore ye set forth to cause more wounds upon our most despiséd foe.'

Applause burst from the assembled courtiers, and the King and Queen basked in it, smiling down upon their subjects. Tarek clapped harder than anybody, and when the applause began to die down, he raised his voice and called out.

'Your Majesties! I myself plan to depart this very night to strike a crippling blow at the very heart of our enemy.'

The Queen turned to look at him, and the King smiled slightly.

'Then thou hast our blessing,' the King told him, 'and our hope of good fortune. Now, let us nobles all proceed into the adjoining chamber, where our most excellent chefs hath prepared a feast in honour of this new era.'

There was more applause, and everyone headed for the doors. The dining chamber was huge, set with several large tables and room to seat several hundred guests. Most of the chairs were filled, and Tarek found himself only a short way down the table from the King and Queen.

'A toast!' The Queen called out when everyone was seated. 'A toast to the brave adventurer Tarek ir Teriss!'

Everyone raised their goblets and drank deeply. Tarek basked in the glory of being toasted by the Queen, and drank deeply of his own wine. Replacing the goblet, he frowned, then looked inside it.

'What-'

Abruptly he stiffened and fell from his chair to lay convulsing on the floor.

'Send for a physician!' somebody called, but it was already too late.

So Tarek never got to try his skills in Aisorbma. He never even made it out of the castle. Further research reveals that he wasn't that gifted a swordsman anyway - the kind of fighter best suited to working as part of an army, preferably a long way from anything important.

This account raises several interesting questions, not least among them who poisoned Tarek's wine. Further research, as always, is the only way to find the answers.

The Next to the Custard Archive

MaW and Ripper

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