Beowulf is Back

  Chapter 13

  In which we find out who won at poker; and a fair bit more besides!

  ‘The pot stands at…’ began Henri, for the fourth time.

  ‘We know what the pot stands at,’ snarled Bull, happy to have a target to vent his rage at, ‘It is five thousand crowns, as you have said I don’t know how many times. It is time to reveal our cards and to see who has won and who has lost.’

  He smiled grimly as he picked his cards up from the table and turned them over with a flourish,

  ‘I have a full house; Queens over Fives. Do you have the beating of that, your Highness?’

  Louie-Louie smiled. He took his time, turning over his cards one at a time,

  ‘I think I do, your Holiness, I think I do. Look! Here is the Ten, Jack, Queen, King and Ace of Hearts; a Royal Flush, for a Royal King!’

  He beamed at Bull and then looked over to Beowulf,

  ‘I think you’ll find that I have the winning hand here,’ he said in a patronisingly good-natured sort of way, ‘The thing is, Beowulf, that those that go up against royalty frequently get burned. I hope you enjoy your time in our dungeons. Guards, you may take him away.’

  ‘Don’t you want to see what cards I hold?’ asked Beowulf politely, causing the guards to stop where they were.

  ‘Go on then,’ agreed Louie-Louie, ‘it can do no harm.’

  ‘So you would think,’ said Beowulf. Slowly he picked up his hand of cards and half stood,

  ‘Here,’ he said, as if he were going to turn over the cards. Instead he put them face down on the table.

  ‘I think you will find this a winning hand!’

  The audience was confused.

  ‘Turn them over,’ some one said.

  ‘What does he mean?’ said Louie-Louie.

  ‘This!’ said Beowulf who sprang from his crouched position onto the table. Before anyone had a chance to react he had jumped down beside Louie-Louie and from somewhere produced a knife, which he held to Louie-Louie’s throat.

  ‘I think I had a pair of Threes,’ he said, ‘but I wasn’t really concentrating. Please don’t move,’ he directed this comment at guards, ‘I would hate to hurt the King.’

  ‘Do as he says!’ shouted a panicked Louie-Louie.

  ‘For once I agree with the King,’ observed Beowulf. Then in English he shouted, ‘Lewis, the door!’

  Thankfully, from Beowulf’s perspective, this time the lanky Briton did understand what was required and again opened the door to the kitchen passage.

  ‘I hope your Majesty won’t mind accompanying me as I leave?’ asked Beowulf, ‘On your feet Louie!’

  ‘You will not get away with this!’ said Bull.

  ‘I will enjoy trying though,’ Beowulf replied, as he and Louis edged their way around the gambling room to the door.

  ‘When we go out; if anyone follows, I will have to kill the King in order to make good my escape. That would be a tragedy which I’m sure we would all prefer to avoid.’

  Heinrich, Bull and the guards were compelled to stand by helplessly and let him go.

  ‘Thanks for the game!’ said Beowulf as he and Louie-Louie went through the door. Then, again, in English he said, ‘Come with me Lewis!’

  Lewis followed and shut the door.

  As soon as they were through the door, Beowulf said,

  ‘They will quickly follow. Grab some stuff from the storeroom over there and slow the pursuit down.’

  Lewis opened the door to the meat store and started removing carcasses and piling them against the door. As he did this they all heard a voice from the cupboard shouting,

  ‘I’m still here! I’m waiting for you!’

  ‘Ignore it,’ said Beowulf. Lewis quickly piled up enough weight to slow anyone whom wanted to open the door.

  ‘You won’t escape,’ said Louie-Louie, ‘the building is surrounded.’

  ‘We aren’t going out,’ said Beowulf, ‘we are going to pay your brother a visit.’

  They set off towards the kitchen.

  Back in the gambling room there had been an astonished pause as soon as the door had slammed. Bull could not believe that Beowulf had snatched Louie-Louie from in front of them: from a room full of guards. Marshall Gney was amazed, a short while ago he had thought that Beowulf’s plan had failed and that the conspiracy would be discovered; but now Beowulf seemed to be succeeding. The British delegation was delighted; Beowulf had snatched the imposter and got away with Lewis!

  They were quickest into action, and almost a team, slowed the pursuit by causing confusion.

  ‘He has the King!’ roared Dorf, ‘Get after him, numbskulls!’

  ‘Wait! Wait! He will kill the King! Stop!’ shouted Caractacus.

  ‘We must reform and make a plan,’ said Boo Dikka in her most regal tone.

  The guards stood and looked at them.

  In the pause Marshall Gney was again struck by the appearance of the dirty servant girl. ‘It is Amarilla!’ he thought. He opened his mouth to call to her, but before he could she had crossed the room to him.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered, ‘it is me! We have to follow Lewis, to make sure no harm comes to him.’

  ‘Don’t you mean Louis?’ asked the Marshall.

  ‘I’ll explain later.’

  At this point Bull and Heinrich came out of their stupor,

  ‘Get after them!’ Bull shouted at the guards, who were still watching the Britons.

  ‘We need to set up a concerted inter-agency strategy, liaising with a hostage negotiator to ensure the safe return of the Monarch,’ said Caractacus, ‘while at the same time creating a cross-continental alert to keep the fugitives in view.’

  ‘What rubbish is this?’ cried Dorf, ‘get after them; beat Beowulf to a pulp. Why are you still standing here?’

  ‘Gentlemen, I feel we are no closer to having a strategy than before,’ said Boo Dikka.

  ‘Wait for them to go and we will follow,’ whispered Amarilla to Gney.

  ‘You seem to have this planned,’ he replied.

  ‘Not really, I’m just improvising.’

  Heinrich was trying to regain the attention of the guards.

  ‘Listen! Guards! This is the plan; half of you will follow through the kitchen passage. Do not try to recapture the King unless I say. The rest of you go round the other way and make sure that he cannot escape through the courtyard. I will lead the group through the kitchen; Cardinal Bull will accompany the guards to the outside. If you see the King, do nothing that will cause Beowulf to harm him, just follow and do not let them get away. Go now!’

  Finally the guards began their pursuit, one group started trying to break down the door to the kitchen passage, and the others went with Bull out of the other door that would lead them round to the courtyard. Amarilla, Emsie and Gney followed on behind this group.

  Meanwhile, Beowulf had run into trouble in the kitchen; Mme Frappedelapins was blocking his path armed with a large kitchen knife.

  ‘Who are you, and why are you dragging this man through my kitchen?’ she demanded, pointing the knife at Louie-Louie who Beowulf had gripped around the neck.

  ‘I think that you are up to no good and I will not have this kind of thing happening in my kitchen.’

  ‘Madame Chef,’ said Beowulf, ‘I regret to be soiling your kitchen by using it for purely political purposes, however the fate of France lies with my ability to progress through your fine, exquisitely run and highly professional kitchen.’

  ‘I do not care about the fate of France!’ shouted Mme Frappedelapins, ‘The fate of nations is as nothing to an artist such as myself. It is unprofessional to drag a man through my kitchen in this manner. You must go a different way! Simone, help me defend the honour of the kitchen!’

  Simone appeared from behind a rack of equipment wielding an oversize meat cleaver.

  ‘I am glad to see you take your vocation seriously,’ said Beowulf, while he tried to concoct a story.

  ‘The honour of the kitchen is at
stake,’ replied Simone, without a flicker of humour.

  ‘I am the King of France!’ shouted Louie-Louie,

  ‘I find that most unlikely,’ replied Mme Frappedelapins, ‘The King of France would not suffer himself to be dragged through the kitchens; it would compromise his authority.’

  ‘Look at that!’ shouted Beowulf suddenly, pointing to a dish that stood on one of the preparation tables, ‘Have you ever seen such a perfect soufflé?’

  He directed this question to Lewis; who being unable to understand French merely shrugged.

  ‘How can you shrug at a soufflé such as this, philistine? Madame, are you the originator of such a gorgeous creation? That is a work of divine beauty?’

  Louie-Louie, who had managed to drag his head up shouted,

  ‘It is only a soufflé, I am the King! You must help me!’

  ‘Silence, degenerate idiot!’ replied Beowulf, ‘You know not of what you speak. If I had time Madame, I would ask you for your secret; not that I think that I could replicate such flawless, precision; but I would love to attempt a feat of such magnificence!’

  Before Mme Frappedelapins could reply Beowulf had moved on;

  ‘Oh, but that is not the masterpiece,’ he cried looking into pan that was simmering on the stove, ‘Observe the breathtaking clarity of the consommé! May I taste it?’

  He grasped a spoon and tasted,

  ‘I am beyond rapture!’ he said and fell to his knees, bringing Louie-Louie with him, ‘I must be in the presence of the greatest Chef in France! Please, dear lady, tell me your name, so that when I have escaped my pursuers I may return and humbly worship at your culinary altar! I suspect that you can induce a taste of smokiness in meat while still preserving its natural flavour and I have faith that your Mille Feuille will possess the crispest of textures?’

  ‘Indeed it does,’ said Simone in agreement, raising his cleaver, ‘but no one comes through here unless Mme Chef says so!’

  ‘No, Simone,’ said Mme Frappedelapins, who was quite impressed by Beowulf’s flattery, ‘these are obviously good people who are fellow travellers on the road to culinary perfection; except for him!’ she pointed out Louie-Louie, ‘We must aid their escape!’

  ‘Thank you great lady!’ said Beowulf, hurriedly dragging Louie-Louie along, ‘We are in your debt. I must warn you that a bunch of terrible barbarians who do not treasure the artistry of the cuisine are pursuing us; please delay them as much as you can!’

  ‘We will happily hinder them,’ grinned Simone, ‘if Mme Chef approves, that is.’

  ‘Simone; it is our duty. Ready the stockpots!’

  ‘Thank you again Madame Chef!’ cried Beowulf as he set off with Louie-Louie down the staircase that led into the dungeon. ‘Follow us Lewis!’

  Mme Chef and Simone began to prepare for the defence of the kitchen.

  Back in the gambling room the pursuing troops under the command of Heinrich finally managed to break down the door and burst through into the corridor beyond. They made their way through the piles of carcasses that Lewis had used to wedge the door shut and set off towards the kitchen, ignoring the shouts of ‘Amarilla! Amarilla! I am still here waiting!’ that seemed, for some reason to be coming from the store room.

  After the departure of the troops, the gambling room seemed eerily quiet; Mascarpone, Boo Dikka, Dorf and Caractacus sat with Henri at the table drinking the King’s best wine.

  ‘This is all really rather exciting,’ said Caractacus happily, ‘I think this undercover agent stuff is great!’

  ‘’nother drink!’ said Mascarpone, who had already had quite enough, ‘Bull’s gonna kill me when this is over.’

  ‘Never mind,’ said Boo kindly, ‘you are sure to go to Heaven.’

  ‘Not if Bull’s ‘nything to do with it,’ slurred Mascarpone.

  ‘I shouldn’t think he is,’ said the Queen.

  As Mascarpone subsided quietly on the table, she surveyed the huge pile of gold that had been abandoned at the conclusion of the game. She turned to Henri and said, ‘I think the dealer gets ten percent as a tip; that is five hundred; I think we can look after the rest.’

  Henri nodded thoughtfully; then scooped up some coins and left.

  ‘Good boy!’ said Dorf, who produced a large sack and started to fill it. Caractacus got up and lent a hand.

  ‘Whatever happens with the succession; we are a richer, happier nation after tonight,’ declared Boo Dikka, ‘let us get out of here and head down town.’

  ‘Suits me,’ said Dorf, ‘I hope we can still find somewhere that sells a proper drink.’

  Chapter 14

  In which the chase heats up (literally); the Chef’s cook up a defence, Emsie tries her hand as a temptress (with somewhat mixed results), Beowulf visits the prison and makes a withdrawal, Dorf finds a new way to cash his chips, Mascarpone has a dream and the evening really does go with a bang!

  Cardinal Bull stood in the monastery courtyard and furiously glared at each of the guards who accompanied him, as if each and every one of them was responsible for the disappearance of Beowulf and ‘The King.’

  The escapees were not in the courtyard, nor were they in the stables, and they had neither gone through the gates nor scaled the walls. They must, therefore, be somewhere within the Casino building. They could only have accessed any of these places by coming out of the kitchen back door; and the guards who were stationed there swore that no one had come in or gone out, since the serving girls had gone in some time ago. When the Cardinal had expressed doubt they demonstrated that the kitchen door was firmly locked from the inside.

  ‘Very well,’ said Bull, ‘if they have not come out then they must be trapped in the kitchen area. Heinrich and the other guards are following them into the kitchen area. Either Heinrich will capture them there or they will come through here to escape. If they do that; we will catch them. We will wait!’

  The guards formed a semi circle facing the door and did as they were instructed.

  Hanging back from this group and lurking in the shadows between the stable block and the main gate, Amarilla, who was accompanied by Emsie and a surprised Marshall of France, had another idea.

  ‘I bet they’ll double back,’ she whispered, ‘behind the kitchens is a maze of corridors and stores. I think they’ll lose the guards in the kitchen and somehow try and come out of the front door.’

  They looked at the front door of the Casino. Two guards patrolled this area in a rather nonchalant way, as if they didn’t expect any trouble. Beyond them the way to the main gate and out of the monastery altogether was unguarded, due to the earlier ‘capture’ of Beowulf and the sudden demand for guards to join in the chase after his escape.

  ‘I think we can take them,’ said Amarilla calmly.

  ‘Always the violence,’ observed Emsie, ‘or are we doing the luring thing?’

  Marshall Gney looked at his niece with a mixture of horror, admiration and fascination as she replied,

  ‘I think it will need a bit of both this time.’

  ‘Amarilla, do you know what you are doing?’ asked the Marshall.

  ‘Believe me she does,’ said Emsie, ‘Who do you think swapped your letter? Now keep up, we need to knock out the guards.’

  Simone hurled the stock pot with a glorious howl of rage. It struck the head of the guard who had just been foolish enough to try to enter the kitchen after Mme Frappedelapins had forbidden access to all non kitchen personnel, for reasons of hygiene.

  ‘We do not want you dirty guards parading through our kitchen with your filthy boots, unwashed hands and menial subservient souls!’ she had yelled as Heinrich and the guards had approached the kitchen door,

  ‘Access is denied! You may not enter! Food preparation is taking place here and will not be interrupted for your venial concerns. If you choose to disregard this warning, we will, turn the might of the kitchen against you.’

  ‘Madame,’ Heinrich had shouted from the corridor, ‘we are seeking an evil man who has ki
dnapped the rightful king of France and escaped through your kitchen. Please allow us through.’

  ‘You are mistaken! That man was no King; he slighted my soufflé and is therefore some kind of degenerate barbarian. If you serve a lackey such as this, I hold you in the same contempt as I do the Parisian food critics. I say that, while there is breath in my body, you shall not pass!’

  Heinrich was beside himself. He had no time to be dealing with megalomaniac chefs.

  ‘We are coming in. If you resist, then we will use force,’ he warned.

  ‘Then go ahead!’ shouted Mme Frappedelapins, ‘the honour of the kitchen is infringed. We will shortly be spitting on your graves while you regret the error that placed you in our path!’

  It was then that the first guard had entered the kitchen and been stock potted by Simone, who stood alongside Mme Frappedelapins, behind a makeshift barricade of kitchen furniture.

  The next three guards were not so hesitant and charged flat out into the kitchen where they skidded in the thick grease that Simone and Mme Chef had covered the floor with. As they went crashing down, Simone flicked a spark onto the grease, which caught fire with surprising ease. The guards shrieked and crawled back towards the corridor.

  Simone winked at Mme Frappedelapins, who nodded with something like approval.

  ‘Sautéed,’ he said.