A two-headed dog; a beetle of stone.
Igon stretched out, all alone
A large crowd had gathered in the hall of the castle, after forcing their way in. In the front of the crowd stood Valentine and Igon. The few guards present there were at a loss. They didn’t know what to do. They didn’t want to harm the villagers because they were villagers themselves. Why, some of them even had relations standing in front of them.
Valentine tried to quieten the mob that, unfortunately, was being led and urged on by a few people whose only thought was to cause trouble, not to try and find a solution. There were shouts of ‘This way!’ and ‘That way!’ or ‘Where are they?’ and ‘Let’s kill them’. But no one was taking a positive lead. No one was actually saying ‘This way, men’.
So they milled around the castle hall, talking and shouting, but mainly arguing with each other. Already a couple of fights had broken out.
Valentine stood on the only table, shouting at the top of his voice, ‘Listen to me, please.’
One man shouted, ‘Speak up.’
Another said, ‘Keep quiet.’
A couple of older people at the back shouted out to let the new President elect speak. Gradually a certain amount of order was restored. Valentine spoke.
‘Friends, you are in my home. Yes, my home. The only place I’ve ever known. The place I love. The place I was brought up in. Yes, friends, this is my home and you are now in it. You are uninvited but you are here. You …’ and he pointed at certain people in the crowd, who had caused a fair share of trouble. ‘You, you, you – all of you – are here in my home. Most of you doing things in my home that you wouldn’t dream of doing in your own home. How would you feel …’ He pointed an accusing finger at one lout, ‘if we all went back to your home and tore down the curtains, or took the things down off the walls and just dropped them on the floor and kicked them to bits; or broke your windows and then casually said, “Let’s go upstairs and kill the people up there”?’
‘My parents aren’t Vampires,’ the lout shouted at Valentine.
‘Mine neither,’ Valentine whipped back. One or two people started to applaud. One man shouted:
‘Well then, what do you think we should do?’
‘I’ll tell you,’ Valentine said happily. ‘I think I should go and have a talk with the King and see if I can’t, on your behalf, talk him into abdicating the throne.’
‘We don’t want your brother to be our King,’ a voice from the back sang out.
‘And neither do I. But I also don’t want him killed.’ Valentine looked around at his captive audience. ‘Listen to me. Who else can speak to them, the King and the Queen, other than me? The King treated me as his son. At least I know he will listen to me. But there is not one man here who he will listen to, nor is there anyone here brave enough to face him alone because you are petrified that he would cast some sort of spell on you. Am I right?’ Valentine was getting quite excited and was beginning to enjoy himself.
‘He won’t put a curse on me, I will promise you that.’
Igon looked up at his friend and, not to be outdone, shouted, ‘Hear! Hear!’
Valentine told the assembled group what he had in mind to say to the King. No half measures. It would take time but he felt sure that he could do it and he should be given the opportunity to try. ‘Let me go to the King now.’
Near the door a man shouted, ‘That’s the most sensible thing I’ve heard all evening.’
Everyone turned round to look at a rather handsome, blond man carrying a fresh loaf under his arm. He continued, ‘Of course this man should go and talk to the King. He must. And if anyone here tries to stop him, or impede him in any way, remember this. In thirty more days I’ll be a werewolf again and a werewolf with a good memory makes a bad enemy.’
Loud applause greeted this. Many people started to shout, ‘Go and see the King.’
* * *
Vernon had been up and down the cellar steps eight times and had still not out-magicked his father. He had almost run out of verses, spells, ointments and breath. On his last trip back to the cellar he peeped through a curtain and listened to his brother shouting at the crowd but, joy upon joy, he had seen Igon and was now lying in wait for him.
As Valentine, followed by Igon, ran up the stairs to the unliving quarters of the King, he shouted to Igon to hurry but Igon couldn’t hurry and was slowly and painfully climbing the stairs. His good friend Valentine shouted that he would see Igon in the King’s chamber.
Behind a curtain Vernon watched and listened. He let Valentine go by, thinking to himself, ‘I’ll save him for later’. He was quite happy waiting for the luckless Igon.
Igon eventually reached the curtain which Vernon was hiding behind. Vernon pounced on Igon, knocking almost all of the breath out of him, and quickly dragged him to the cellar.
Valentine was so far ahead of Igon, that he didn’t hear Igon’s short, sharp scream, and carried on to the King’s room. He knocked out of respect and habit before entering the room. Inside the room stood a rather dishevelled King, his face blackened and his clothes torn and smouldering.
‘Father,’ he said, ‘What happened?’
‘Hello, Valentine,’ said a very tired and almost exhausted Victor. ‘Ooh, nothink really. Just Vernon up to his tricks but I’m proud to say, Valentine, that I beat him.’
He allowed a small, self-satisfied smile to play around his lips. The Queen was holding the King by the throat very tenderly. She spoke to Valentine.
‘Now, where have you been, you naughty boy? Daddy and I have been awfully worried.’
‘I’ve been in the village and there are many things I’ve got to talk to you about. Both of you.’
Ronnoco got to his feet and weakly stumbled to the window for air. He tripped over the rim of the carpet, knocking himself out on the edge of the coffin table. He never even saw Valentine. He lay there and, as usual, was completely ignored.
Doctor Plump was in a state of nervous jitters, twitching and moving, dancing and swaying, to unheard music.
* * *
Vernon had by this time put Igon in the cellar on the rack. He was now at the mixing stage; mixing one potion with another, and chuckling to himself as the mixtures came together to form a diabolical fluid that would change the already sad and pathetic life that Igon led, to an even more pathetic one.
‘Igon, my friend, in a few moments I will have the potion ready for you to drink. After one swallow you will be a different man. Not quite as handsome as you are now, you beast.’
Vernon laughed, half to himself and two quarters to Fang and Bruce. ‘I promise you it won’t be painful … at first. After a little while you will feel numb. Not like you are now, dumb, but numb. And then a little dizziness maybe. Then the pain – slight at first. It will slowly take over your whole miserable body and you will feel the pain of the whole world.
Yet you will not be able to pass into the blackness of oblivion. No, my friend. You will feel the pain for days before you turn into stone. Yes, little friend, stone. And the most interesting thing is, you will not be able to move or speak. You will not be able to ask for help. And the best part is that you will feel the pain getting worse as the days go by. Oh, my friend, I have waited a long time for this moment …’
Igon lay there, thinking and wondering why, if Vernon was going to do all these horrible things to him, did he insist on calling him ‘my friend’?
‘Soon, Igon, the only thing that you will suffer will be pain.’ Vernon worked faster and faster as he sang to himself.
* * *
Meanwhile Grabbo and Areta had entered the castle and asked for Valentine. They were told that he was with the King and Queen. Grabbo nodded.
Upstairs, Valentine had explained to Victor and Valeeta the situation they were now in. He also understood the magic power Victor had, and could use on them, but at the moment Victor had little, if any, power left. He’d used it all on the bat and, of course, on Vernon. He was now completely empty of magic.
Valentine knew this and played on it for the benefit of his arguments. The Queen was on Valentine’s side, wanting her husband to retire and settle down in the country, near a graveyard if possible. Victor wasn’t too sure. He felt he still had a lot left in him yet.
After many hours of talk the King, who was now exhausted, finally nodded his regal Vampire head in agreement. The agreement was that Valentine should become President and that Victor should be Advisor to the President. Vernon was to be put out of the country and no villagers were to be harmed.
Victor and the Queen also told Valentine that he wasn’t kidnapped as a child. He was found on the front doorstep of the castle. He had been left to die of starvation and cold so they had taken him in, loving him and sheltering him from the trials and tribulations of a human life.
Never once had he been chastised for being naughty. As a matter of fact, he had been the perfect baby, not like Vernon who was sulky and bad-tempered.
In turn, Valentine then told them of his forthcoming marriage. The King, in his wisdom, asked how long he had known the girl. Valentine told him the truth; a few hours.
Victor looked at his son and said, ‘Mine son, there is, in Englant, a famous sayink, “Marry in Hastings ant repent in Leicester”.’
Valentine knew he still had to talk to the people and convince them that everything would be fine. He felt confident that he could do that. He shook hands with the King and kissed his mother and left their presence with a low bow.
Outside the royal rooms he stood for a moment, trying to take in everything that had happened. ‘I must tell Igon that he has no need to worry now about Vernon … But where is he?’
He went back to the castle hall, thinking he would probably see Igon still making his way slowly up the stairs, but he didn’t. However, he was more than happy to see Areta waiting for him with her father.
He told all the assembled people what plans had been made and, except for a few little points, they all basically agreed. He asked about Igon but no-one had seen him since he left with Valentine and tried to follow him up the steps to see the King.
Valentine began to get worried. Of course, he knew that the King wouldn’t harm Igon, not so soon after the agreement that they had just hammered out. So who else? Suddenly he knew. Vernon! That was it. Vernon had got him. He looked round and saw Wilf talking to Grabbo and Areta. He walked swiftly over to them and explained the situation.
‘Well, that’s what happened, I should say, Prime Minister,’ Wilf said.
‘President,’ Grabbo corrected.
‘It’s all the same thing. Prime Minister, President, King,’ retorted Wilf. The important thing is to see if we can find Igon. Let’s go to the cellar first. I bet that’s where Vernon has got him.’
* * *
While Valentine, Areta, Grabbo and Wilf were looking for their friend Igon, lower down, in the pit of the castle, Vernon was busily and happily making his potions. Igon was thinking of what was going to become of him.
Upstairs, the King and Queen were packing their cases. Pretty soon it would be dawn and they would have to sleep the day through. The Queen looked at her husband with eyes full of love and admiration and said:
‘Sweetness?’
‘Yes, mine little moonpeam?’ He smiled, putting his spare top hat in a tall case.
‘I think you did the right thing. And I also think that Valentine will make a wonderful President. It’s a pity about Vernon being a bit silly.’
‘Ya. Valentine vill make a gut President,’ Victor half smiled to himself. ‘If he does as I’m tellink him.’
The Doctor had stopped moving and twitching. He was now wondering what was going to happen to him. Ronnoco came round at last. ‘What happened?’ he asked weakly.
‘Nothink,’ said the King. ‘Vell, nothink that you vill notice. I vill still be in charge.’ He spoke happily for the first time that week.
* * *
Valentine and his friends were still searching for Igon in every room that they could find but as yet not one had led them to their little friend.
‘Keep trying,’ Valentine pleaded to the others, but they were running out of cellars and rooms to search.
Then Valentine stopped suddenly in his tracks. ‘Yes,’ he shouted. ‘Yes. That’s where he’ll be.’
‘Where?’ his friends asked.
‘In the cellar almost in the bowels of the earth.’
‘That one,’ Wilf asked, ‘that everybody says is only a few yards from Australia?’
‘That’s the one, Wilf.’
‘Do you know the way?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Valentine said thoughtfully. ‘I’ve never been there – Vernon has never invited me. Apart from the King and Queen, and of course Vernon himself, no-one has been there, and if they have, they’ve never been seen again.’
‘Well, let’s try and get there before it’s too late,’ said Grabbo.
‘Follow me,’ said Valentine, taking Areta’s hand. Almost twenty minutes of fast walking found them outside a huge door made of the strongest wood with great iron bars across it.
Valentine gathered his friends around him and whispered, ‘I would say, knowing Vernon, that there must be a secret way to get into this room. Or maybe a secret panel …’
His friends nodded. ‘What shall we do?’
‘Quietly push and pull every nail and panel you can see or even touch. It’s bound to be here because, look …’ He pointed to the door. ‘There’s no lock on this door. Please, everyone, don’t lose heart. Think of poor Igon and the pain and worry he’s going through.’
They all felt sad and with renewed energy worked as hard as they could.
The minutes ticked slowly by for them, and ticked quickly by for Igon. Then Areta let out a small cry. ‘Look! This large screw. I don’t think it’s fastened to anything.’
‘Let me see,’ Valentine whispered. He carefully, with a finger, turned the screw.
‘You’re right, Areta. It doesn’t seem to be attached to anything. Keep turning it.’
‘Maybe it’s like a safe. You know, so many turns to the left and then so many to the right,’ Wilf said. As he spoke, Areta cupped her hand and caught the screw as it fell out. Inside where the screw had been was a tiny button.
‘Shall I press it?’ whispered Valentine.
‘Of course you must, my Lord.’ Wilf nodded.
‘President,’ Grabbo said.
‘Oh, all right, President,’ Wilf whispered loudly. ‘What’s it matter as long as it gets pressed.’
As Areta had the smallest finger, she pressed the button and they all listened, hardly daring to breathe. There was a slight whirring sound followed by a small click; a few seconds of silence, then another louder click and quite suddenly, and noiselessly, the door swung open beautifully, as smooth as silk. Vernon had made that door and it was a masterpiece of engineering.
Four pale and nervous faces peered round the door into a large room. They tentatively walked into the laboratory. Vernon had heard nothing above the noise of his singing and the bubbling and burping of his experiments.
Igon was still on the rack. The rescuing group looked at each other as if to say ‘At least we’re not too late.’ Igon had his eye closed, not wanting to see Vernon mixing the potion that was to turn him into stone and everlasting pain. He thought of his Mummy and what she would have done to Vernon if she was here.
Vernon took a medicine drop and in it put some of the potion. He picked up a largish beetle from a box and dropped a minute globule on to the beetle. He watched the beetle, a black one with things like horns protruding from the side of its head. It stopped moving as soon as the liquid touched it. That could, of course, be put down to reaction, as the beetle was not expecting it to rain. It moved forward after a second or two, then stopped mid-step, one of its horns held high, the other low. It also turned a stone-coloured grey.
Vernon picked it up. It was very hot and he dropped it quickly back on to the laboratory table. It bounced along the table, as would a dropped stone. Vernon smiled, grinned, laughed and then screamed for joy. ‘It works,’ he shouted.
Igon opened his eye and gulped.
‘It works, Igon. Aren’t you thrilled? Say you’re thrilled, you magotty thing.’
Vernon showed him the stone beetle. Igon looked away.
The four friends crept as quietly as they could past tubes and boiling vats of what looked like coloured water. Vernon was thrilled with himself and the outcome of this experiment.
‘You know, Igon, my friend,’ he said, showing him a hammer and chisel. ‘Within a few minutes you will be turned to stone and I will be able to sign my name on my work. Think of it, Igon. You’re such a lucky fellow. I’m going to immortalise you.’
Igon moaned and turned his head away from Vernon. This time he turned it in the direction of his friends who were hiding behind the glass vats and the gurgling and bubbling phials, with their fingers over their mouths, silently telling Igon not to make a sound. Igon nodded to the best of his ability.
Vernon looked at Igon and thought that he was nodding to the fact that he was to be immortalised.
Valentine and the others crept forward as carefully as they could. The idea was to overpower Vernon and restrain him somehow, while Areta untied Igon. Then they were all to run like the wild bunch as fast as they could. Wilf and Grabbo would carry Igon because speed wasn’t his best asset.
Vernon held up a large test tube in front of his eyes to measure the correct amount that was to go into the cup for Igon to drink. It had to be the exact measurement; a driblet too much and Igon would crack within a few hours; a driblet less and he wouldn’t set. It had to be perfect.
While closely looking at the test tube, Vernon thought he saw a movement in the reflection. Although he couldn’t see himself he could see the reflection of everything else. He saw four small figures, slowly making their way towards him. He knew them all except the girl. He thought quickly. If he put the test tube down he would be at a disadvantage, as he wouldn’t then be able to see them without turning round, and if he turned round they would know that he could see them and the advantage was theirs.
No, he thought, the only thing to do was to let them advance, thinking they were unnoticed. Then, at the first opportunity, to throw the contents of the test tube on them. It would only need a touch and they would be stone within seconds. That way he would still have Igon to play with and also have a backing group for Igon to stand in front of when he put them all up in the market square. He was looking forward to the next few minutes.
Igon, whose eye kept going first to the group and then back to Vernon, at such an alarming rate that Areta feared it might drop out altogether, watched as his friends crept closer to each other, forming a group that looked pretty formidable. But Igon knew, as they all did, that Vernon was no fool.
Suddenly Vernon spoke.
‘Good evening, Gentlemen and, of course, Lady. Welcome to my, er, workshop.’ He kept his back to them. ‘I wouldn’t do anything silly, like rush me, because the mixture in this tube – well, the smallest drop and you are all turned to stone. Isn’t that right, Igon? Tell them about the beetle, Igon.’
The four of them stopped and looked at Igon.
He nodded his head and said, ‘It’s true, Sire. That thing there, that looks like a stone. Well, five minutes ago it was a beetle and was walking along the top of the table. And it isn’t dead. It’s alive but it’s stone. One drop of that stuff in the tube and you will be stone too, but not dead. Just pain for ever.’
‘Thank you, Igon.’ Vernon smiled with a coolness that was irritating. ‘I couldn’t have said it better myself, except to add that the pain lasts forever and it also gets worse every day. And, of course, you won’t be able to speak or ask for help. Just suffer. May I say how nice it was of you to come here and, er, how shall I say … volunteer? To try out this formula.’
Wilf and Valentine started to move but Vernon laughed at them. ‘I wouldn’t come too close, Gentlemen. By the way, have you met my dog? Fang and Bruce.’
The two-headed dog growled from the darkness under the table and showed its heads with snarling teeth and four almost irridescent eyes.
‘Stay!’ he commanded the dog and it slunk back under the working table.
‘There is nothing you can do. You might as well admit that you are now prisoners. My prisoners. And I must say how clever it was of you to find the screw in the door and open it.
But, as always, there is something you didn’t think of. You see, when you came in, the door closed on itself and it can only be opened with a key of which there is only one and I am the only person who knows where it is. To be honest, and without wishing to sound conceited, don’t you think I’m rather clever?’ He turned towards them with his back resting against the table and the tube still in his hand.
He raised the tube to the level of his eyes. ‘Look at it, Gentlemen, and you too, Miss. That’s all it is. Just a little drop of white fluid that looks so harmless and yet can cause so much suffering.’
Grabbo held Areta close to him and felt her shiver with fright.
‘So who’s first then? What? No eager volunteers?’ He looked round the group. No one moved. ‘Oh, come now, Gentlemen. Do you want the lady to think she is consorting with cowards?’ He grinned at them.
‘What about you, dear brother? Everybody’s favourite. Wouldn’t you like to be made into stone and be immortalised for ever.’ He held the test tube close up to his brother’s face, making him step back.
‘You, Grabbo the stupid publican?’ He looked at Grabbo with contempt. ‘Or your beautiful daughter?’ He straightened up and took a small step towards them. They all backed off.
‘Wilf? Oh yes, we mustn’t forget Wilf, must we? The footballing dog.’ Then he looked at Igon. ‘Don’t worry, my friend.’
‘For the last time, you mad, raving idiot, I am not your friend. I’m rather choosy whom I pick for my friends and you are certainly not one of them, you stupid, mad, sick oaf …’
Everybody thought that was Igon’s last sentence on earth. Vernon was so taken aback that it gave Wilf the opportunity he had been waiting for. He had seen the rubber ball the dog had chased. It was now by his foot. He kicked it as hard as he could away from Vernon who was standing with his back to the table the dog was under. As the ball sped along the laboratory floor he shouted, ‘Fang! Bruce! Fetch.’
The dog shot out from under the table at an incredible speed and ran between Vernon’s legs, knocking him and the test tube up in the air. The fluid came down on him and he was stone almost before he could scream. Before their eyes, Vernon turned the colour of a Cotswold cottage. The dog came back and dropped the ball in Vernon’s outstretched hand. It melted.
Valentine held Areta in his arms as Grabbo released Igon from the rack. Wilf poured a vat of water over Vernon to cool him off, then picked him up and carried him to the door with the help of Grabbo and Igon. Valentine looked at the dog and round one of its necks, attached to the collar, was a key. He spoke gently to them and tentatively put a hand out towards the collar.
Fang growled and Bruce tried to lick it.
‘Where’s your lead then?’ The heads ran to the door and jumped up to the hanging lead.
‘Walkies,’ Valentine said loudly. The dog sat down, perfectly still and allowed Valentine to take the key from its collar. He unlocked the door and all of them left the cellar, including the two-headed dog.
Within a few days the official Presidential Election took place, making Valentine the first ever President of Gotcha.