WAR SCHOOL

Under Her Spell

"Mirrors are doorways. You need only look."
A ruined castle outside of space and time. A blonde woman in purple robes. Her face hidden behind a hawkshead mask, atop which glints a crescent moon. Her hands on my shoulders as we stare into a dusty mirror. Green eyes glitter as her reflection looks right through me. I am only a boy. I need my parents. But this is the furthest place from home.
"Pictures are doorways," she murmurs, "just step inside."
She is barely audible over the sound of tinkling music boxes. She winds up another jeweled box and places it on the looking-glass table. Ten or more tunes. Twisting. Turning. Nursery rhyme nightmares. I have to get away from her cruel, controlling eyes, her strange, slow voice. I need fresh air, not this thick, sleepy incense. I need water, not this cloudy, bitter tea. Something has put me under her spell. A clock ticks, slower and heavier than true time.
"Dreams are doorways,” she says. “If you can stay truly awake"
"I must get back," I tell her. My voice is too high because I am so afraid. How can I appear brave? I don’t even know if I am alive or dead. She laughs, cold-eyed, then tosses picture dice on a black velvet cloth. Fire, a tumbling tower, lightning. She looks at me as if pleasantly surprised.
"There is no way back, she said. "There is only...beyond!" The wind outside begins to howl through the trees, scraping the bare branches against the stone walls. "Beyond everything. Everything you could ever imagine."

Chapter 1
“Jake! Wake up! Come on! It's football!"
It was my mum shouting from downstairs. Ruby, my little sister, was asleep next door. Her bed is full of dolls, Cinderella magazines and Princess books. I wake up looking at a big poster of Hannibal Barca, the greatest soldier there ever was. And Trent Rocket, the toughest special forces commando in all of space. Then there's my five special edition posters of Infinity Force, who rule the entire galaxy and…
"Jake! Football!"
Mum again. Using her ‘I told you twice the first time.’ voice. If that wasn’t enough my phone buzzed with a text from Sasha. She's very smart, scarily good looking. Mostly scary, really. People say she's my girlfriend. But she isn't. She is not.
I hadn’t answered last night’s text yet, or the one before.
If and when the world ends there will still be a text from Sasha - "Why didn't everyone do what I say?" She’d make a good Drill Sergeant. If she could find some uniforms glamorous enough.
"Jake! You'll be late, Come on!"
Oh well. At least the nightmare had stopped. I kept having the same dream where some weird woman with a hawkshead mask
spirited me away to this ruined castle. She kept saying something amazing was about to happen. Maybe we were finally going to win at football.
"Get up, Ruby!" I shouted. I didn't see why she should sleep in. Dad and Mum think Ruby is cute. I think she should be boiled in oil then shot out of a canon. She has black hair and blue eyes just like Mum. Everyone in our family has dimples too. I have blonde hair and blue eyes. Dad said he looked like this once, like the young A
Anakin Skywalker, so he says. That was before whatever happened that made him bald and miserable. He doesn’t live with us any more. I was hoping he would make it to the football this week to see me play. But he always has some excuse.

This week was no exception. A lot of Dads were there, some of them looking a bit silly with their great fat bellies sticking out of brand new track suits. At least they had showed up. My Mum chatted with the other Mums as usual. They don't seem to like their husbands much. Ruby was asking for ice cream a lot. She's a pest.
It was a grey day, the air heavy with rain. Actually a downpour might have been better than having Terry Veneman's team beat us again. However good we are they are always better. As he keeps on telling us.
He arrived wearing a bright purple baseball cap with the name of an American Wrestler on it in vomit green and a crimson anorak that cost a fifth as much as my computer. His football kit was an exact replica of that London team that just buys all the best players all the time.
Sometimes I thought about asking Sasha to come. But she’s not much of a spectator. Not enough for her to do. She’d probably have to be the referee. Sasha – the thin controller, always in charge.
The game didn't go very well for us. It was a relief when the referee blew the whistle for full time. "Three nil! Three nil!" said Terry, right in my face. "You’re rubbish, you are!"
He is a total bonehead but the facts were pretty indisputable. So I didn't bother disputing them. I ran over to see Mum to find out if Dad was coming.
"Where's Dad?"
Mum seemed very bitter all of a sudden.
"Perhaps he’ll come next week," she said. "If he can get out of bed in time".
Terry Veneman followed me over, to squeeze in a quick gloat before rushing off to bully someone else.
"We’re going to get you, one day!" I told him.
"No chance! We always win".
Just then I remembered a dream where Terry Veneman had chased me and I couldn't run any more. When everything went slow motion because my legs wouldn't work. He throttled me. "Tell me the secret code," he kept saying. Just when I was floating up out of my body I had woken up. I thought it was a bit much if he was also going to bully me in my sleep.
"Now come on, you two!" said Mum. "It's only a game."
"It’s not a game," said Terry Veneman, showing his great horrible shark teeth. "This is war!"
Time to retreat. Back to barracks.
There was no sign of Dad. Again.

Chapter 2
Saturday afternoon I go to Warworld Fantasy Gaming Workshop. It's a terrific place where you can play wargames with all your friends and people you have just met. The shop assistants show you how to use the gaming dice and measure how far your army can move with little gaming rulers. The first time we went Ruby started crying the minute we got inside. Maybe it was the rows and rows of fierce looking monsters or the heavy metal music. Maybe it's because you can't buy ice cream. She calls it "The War Shop" now and wants to collect all their female warriors and witches.
Sasha used to pretend to be a witch. Maybe she doesn’t have to pretend now. She comes along sometimes. She's in the year below me and I don't know why she's always hanging around, except she lives quite close and we have known each other for years. She's likes appearing bored. Which is supposed to be interesting. I don't know why. Girls are even harder to figure out than the rules of Ogre Death Conflict version 2.7. She is quite small and very good looking I suppose. She always stands very close, smelling of soap and scent. Her blue eyes sparkle. Her dark hair is very shiny. I never know what to say.
I thought she’d be interested in the gaming rules but she wasn’t.
"Do you actually like it here?" she said, in a voice like a spear stab.
"Yes," I said. "I beat the Dragons of Doom last time. With only one legion against all their men!"
"Why is it always men? Where are the women warriors? Where’s Queen Boudica?"
I wished I could have a go on the big gaming terrain instead of having to listen to this.
"Well, there's Queen Ravenheart, ruler of the abyss," I said. "She has the power to blast gorgons right out of the dark forest or-"
"And this is what you do on Saturdays? Fantasy? Lord of the Nerds?"
"I’d come more often actually but Mum doesn’t let me".
"She doesn’t like you wasting your time?"
"It’s not wasting time".
"I’m going. You coming?"
And miss the assault on Castle Doom? Not likely!
"No," I told her.
"Loser!"
She pushed her way out, in a right royal huff. And then I got back to playing with Jerry, Nick, Pete, Gavin and Darren. You'd never catch us fighting. Not when we've got a war to get on with.

Chapter 3
My Mum's a lot younger than Dad. And a lot better looking. Although that's not so saying much. You could hardly be worse looking, or more glum looking, than Dad. Although he brightens up when we stage our battles. Mum hates war. She likes gardening, usually wearing something that looks like an old sack covered in mud.
The day after the football we were in the garden on a cloudy afternoon. Mum was pruning roses and I had one of my wargaming castles out, enacting the assault on The Castle of Doom by the Kamikaze Warrior Troupe of Saturn Nine. They're awesome. And they had a big trebuchet, a sort of stone-throwing catapult. But they had to get past a combined team of pirates and knights and US Marines. And I handicapped them by giving the Kamikaze Warrior Troupe of Saturn Nine extra attack points and...
"Too much detail, Jake! Just tell the story!" I can hear Mrs Townsend's voice sometimes, my English Teacher. I had better listen to her. She makes the warrior Queen Boudica look like a little fluffy bunny. So: Ruby was there, with almost as many Cutey dolls as I have US Marines but she doesn't really matter. She just gets in the way.
My Dad arrived with a present for me. Which does matter. It was a painted figurine of King Arthur with the Holy Grail in one hand and a big broadsword in the other.
"I want you to look after this," he said. "It cost a lot of money. Don't lose it. The Holy Grail is the most important thing ever."
"Oh wow!" I said, and put King Arthur straight into the battle. He was obviously one of the goodies. Who always win. In stories, anyway.
"How much money?" asked Mum and Dad pulled a face. She always wants to know where all of Dad's money has gone. And, to be honest, she's not really likely to find out. Dad can be a bit evasive at times.
"He doesn’t need any more soldiers!" said Mum.
"Look!" said Dad, losing it right away. "We didn’t start the second world war".
Mum's German. They met in Germany and Dad used to speak German with her. Now he always speaks English and calls her a Nazi. Which is a bit unfair really. As she was born decades after the war.
"He’s not going to join the real army," said Dad. "It’s just a game boys play".
"Big men waving their swords around!"
Dad looked very stony.
"Yes," he said. "It’s not a model. It’s a symbol of patriarchy".
"What’s patriarchy?" I asked.
"A society ruled by men," he said. "They might teach you it at school. In history."
"It’s always War!," said Mum. "Men fighting each other".
Which reminded me.
"Dad! Dad!," I said. "I’ve got a new version of Total War!"
"Great! Let’s go and play it".
"Another war game! Just what the world needs!" said Mum.
"Chess is a war game," said Dad.
"I'm not surprised you like chess," said Mum. "The King stands still while the Queen does all the work!"
Dad seemed to be about to say something but followed me up the stairs instead. Saving his strength for the next battle. After all, he probably wouldn’t have too long to wait.

Chapter 4
My wargaming terrain is in the attic. It's five metres square, with mountains, valleys and even a sea full of pirate ships. I put the King Arthur figure at the head of my massive army.
"Don't lose that!" said Dad. "It's really important!"
It must have been quite expensive the way he said that. I put him in charge of my massed troops. There's cowboys, knights, Romans and Vikings on my side. Beat that lot! The other side has ogres and trolls and monsters and spacemen. And some ferocious Amazonian warrior women. They're probably the toughest of the lot, actually.
Dad was looking to see if Ruby was ok. I wish she hadn't followed us up the stairs. She's always tagging along for some reason. She was getting her Prince Charming and Cinderella dolls to talk to each other. How childish is that? She should grow up and learn a proper game. I was telling Dad the rules.
"And if three Lemurian armies take on the Titans of Droon planet then it’s three dice against two and each throw counts double, if this spaceship has already landed, but not if..."
"Hang on. Who is fighting whom?" said Dad.
"Dad!" I said. He keeps forgetting things. I already told him that. More than once.
"Which ones are these?" he asked.
"That’s the Titans of Droon," I said. "Universal warlords. They seek to crush every planet in the universe. But if a Mega-Lord traps them in a space-warp then they lose their invincible powers and become the Toads of Dronamord and..."
"How come these Romans are involved? And this Native American? They’re a long way from home".
"It’s total war!" I said. "Between all of the armies of the past, the present and the future. In Space!"
Dad smiled. You don't see that too often.
"Well," he said. "That seems to cover everything".
"It’s your go!" I told him, handing him the five differently coloured dice we use for wargaming.
"Daddy!" said Ruby. "Lucy wants her bottle!"
Lucy is a baby doll Ruby often carries around. Like she's a mum already.
Dad cradled the doll in his arms and rocked it. He looked soppy.
"Where’s her bottle?" said Ruby.
"Did you leave it downstairs, honey?"
"Dad!" I said. "It's your go!"
"I can't find her bottle!" said Ruby, like it really mattered.
"In a minute, Ruby," said Dad.
He threw the dice then frowned.
"So a five means?"
Really! He's so slow.
"You can move two titans, one overlord or five ogres," I told him. "Or you can add all the dice together and call for reinforcements. Or you can..."
"Dad! You said you would look after Lucy!"
"I’m doing Jake’s game, honey".
"Do my game! It’s not fair!"
"In a minute, honey. Jake, I need to read the rules. There's probably some 'secret code’ I need to know".
Dad is smiling. But how could he know about the secret code? That's what Terry Veneman wanted to know. In my dream.
"I don’t know the secret code!" I said. "How do I find out?"
"Hey, I was only kidding. I don’t know any secret code. I don’t know anything. Not any more". Dad slumped down in his chair, lapsing into loser/victim mode again. Which is really boring. He spotted me staring at him and sat up again.
"Ask the right questions and someone will tell you," he said. "Seek and ye shall find. That’s the real secret code".
Ruby started a loud, whining grizzle. It was obviously going to last for ever. Dad gave her a cuddle. Which was rubbish because he was supposed to be playing my game.
"Tell me the rules again," he said. Although he could hardly hear, what with Ruby screaming right in his ear.
"It’s easy!" I said. "If Two Titans, and five overlords..."
"Jake!" It was my Mum, shouting from the floor below.
"Jake! Do your homework!"
"Oh Mum!"
"Do your homework! Now!"
Mum came up the stairs and rolled her eyes when she could see we were playing a wargame.
"I’m sick of all this fighting!” she said. “All this war! We need peace on earth!"
"Call. A. Truce. Then." said Dad, in his angry muted mumble. Slow. Quiet. Grinding.
"He needs to do his homework!" said Mum, waving her arms about. "So he doesn’t turn out like his father!"
Dad's eyes popped. He was half out of his chair before remembering there was no particular place to go. His eyes were ablaze.
"Yes! He should turn out like his surrogate grandfather figure! A rich old creep. Spending his wife’s money! On you!"
"Leave Ernest out of this!"
"Ernest?" said Dad. "How can my rival be called Ernest?"
Then Mum flipped and started shouting the odds, everything she could throw at him. Ruby was crying now and, for some reason, my eyes had filled up. I couldn't breathe or see properly and everything went wavy and it was worse than those tension headaches I get. Mum and Dad were shouting really loudly and I couldn't see the big wargaming castle any more even though I was staring really hard at it and then...

Chapter 5
I woke up on a freezing slab of stone, looking up at castle battlements and a gunmetal grey sky. The air smelt damp, as if we were about to be drilled with rain. There was loud gunfire, cries of pain, thick smoke wrapping round us then clearing to show soldiers writhing in agony and the broken walls of the castle. There was a bad-tempered woman in a leather skirt and big boots striding up and down. She had thick blood-red hair flowing down to her waist.
Her voice was loud and gritty, like a blast of shot. She looked like one of them mad women who beat up strange men for money.
"Come on, then!" she screamed. "Bring it on, you cowardly scum!"
Could this be a pagan warrior Queen? Could it be Boudica? The original Essex Girl? She certainly looked like the other type of
Essex Girl - big hair, war paint, huge gold earrings, gold neck harness, gleaming boots, and loud.
“Madame, er, my Lady, er...could you be...are you...”
“I’m Queen Boudica!” she roared. “And we need your help Boy General! I don’t know! Men!”
I stood up and stared through the battlements. There were rows and rows of perfectly drilled men standing at ease, each holding a red lance aloft in their right hands. They all wore masks and chain-mail and looked well wicked.
“Cool!” I said.
“They’re trying to kill us! You have to stop them!” screeched Boudica. There was a silver laptop in front of me, all charged up and ready to go. The screen was showing the same army that was besieging the castle.
“Wicked!” I said. But Boudica was getting grumpier. Was she going to to attack me or the Romans? As the Duke of Wellington nearly said, “I don’t know what effect she would have on the enemy. But she was terrifying me".
Sasha once told me, while rolling her eyes, that it’s a good idea to complement women on their appearance. It’s always a good icebreaker. I noticed that Boudica had an ornate silver bracelet round her ankle. (illustration Boudica)
“I like your bracelet,”I said. “Your...er...ankle thingy.”
“It’s a tag, you imbecile. I’ve been sentenced to two thousand years in War School.”
What could I say? Bad luck? Never mind, eh? Fortunately there was another target for her wrath. She hurled a few spears down at the enemy, briskly harpooning a hapless straggler and knocking another’s helmet off.
“Take that! You Roman rabble!”
Her voice went right through me. Like one of those hard-faced girls in the shopping centre who always have to shout at their mates - whether they are two or two hundred metres away.
“Sir!" she said. "We are running out of food and water. We have insufficient forces to escape. The Unit could attack at any moment!” Brilliant! It was just like Cannibal Vampires! That game I’m not supposed to have. I’m not allowed to play it for another five years. My Dad says I should be eighty before I can play it. It's probably a bit too bloodthirsty for old people. They just can't take it any more.
“Who's that?" I asked, spotting the leader of their army, a weird-looking mutant wearing a mask which covered his eyes. He was grinning oafishly, weighing his poor horse down with his bloated fat body.
"That's The Void!" she said, making a meal of it. Not being able to see someone's eyes is scary. He can see you, but you can't see him. Boudica had her eyes shut too. She was swearing (I think) in ancient English. The words sounded like cruel little barbed wire pellets that would cut your ears open. Maybe it was a magical spell. Maybe she was also a witch. With a capital B.
"They are The Unit," she said, "The most destructive army of all time. He is The Void and they are about to kill us. Any idea of what we should do, Boy General?"
She was being sarcastic now but how was I supposed to know?
"How many men do we have?" I asked.
"Five," she said, still a little frantic, which wasn't fair because I was trying to help.
"Five thousand?"
"No! Five!"
"Rats! We’re gonna get zassified!"
"Zassified?"
"You know! Zassified. Slaughtered. Splattered".
I had a rummage in my pockets, looking for my favourite gaming dice. They usually tell me what to do.
"Where's my dice?"
"Dice!" she screeched. "This is war!"
The walls were shaking now as more and more cannonballs hit us.
"War is a gamble!" I told her. "For the highest stakes. I need my dice."
When I found my dice they were much bigger and covered in pictures instead of numbers. Something weird had happened. I shrugged and threw the dice anyway. One face showed me pinned to the ground with ten swords. The other showed Boudica impaled by arrows.
"I would advise caution," I told her.
"Forget it!"
Boudica stood up on the battlements to taunt the enemy.
"Is that the best you can do? Cowards!" It was very brave of her as a flurry of arrows was whistling down on us. Then the sky went dark grey. Then almost black. I could hear thunder. I got up, looking for somewhere to hide but just then, Boudica toppled down and knocked all the breath out of me. She had three arrows in her and she started to cough blood up all over me. It smelt like that time Ruby threw Ribena up all over the car, except a lot more metallic. I tried to push her off me but I had no strength. I could see an arrow coming straight down at me but it was like one of those nightmares where you need to run but your legs just won't work. I tried to scream but couldn't. Even with my eyes shut I could sense the arrow was going to pierce my skull and then...

Chapter 6
I was in a huge Viking feasting hall, lying on a bench covered in arrows. Picking them out of me took quite some time. Mum would have told me to go straight to the bathroom to wash off all this dried blood and some of the wounds were a bit gross actually. Not nice. Not nice at all.
I still had my silver laptop so all was not lost. There were lots of soldiers sat round, drinking beer out of huge Viking horns and making the most amazing din. There were pirates and cowboys and Amazon women warriors but mostly there were Roman soldiers. I was pretty sure I could see Hannibal Barca, the greatest strategist of all time.
He was flipping up stacks of cardboard beer mats from the edge of the table, catching them each time, then adding another one. It's a shame parents won't let you do games like that. Instead of asking boring questions like; "How was school?"
There were knights teaching swordplay to some cowboys and Native Americans showing pirates how to use a bow and arrow. I had never seen a game of darts played with a bow and arrow before. It's a lot less boring than some fat bloke throwing three little darts down the pub. The signs behind the bar were different too.
"You don't have to be dead to drink here but it helps."
Some old Roman guy with very white hair and wise eyes was talking to Hannibal. Boudica was stomping around serving drinks. She didn't look very happy.
"Who cares what the future thinks?" said the white-haired bloke. "The trick is to live now. Do what is correct for no other satisfaction than that it is right".
"You’ve had enough, Marcus, " said Boudica. "Back on your high horse again. Telling everyone what to do all the time".
"I was Emperor, you know." said the old guy.
"Not in here, you’re not," said Boudica, banging a few tankards of foaming lager down on the table. Marcus winced a little. His hands were shaking. He seemed to be about twice as old as my Dad. Which is ancient. He was just as good as getting angry though. And looking miserable.
"Look, Boudica!" said Marcus. "You lost! Again! That’s why you’re a waitress. In here. And we need more wine!"
She spilt some lager on his head. It didn't look like an accident.
"Sorry, mate, " she said. Then gently slapped his head dry with a napkin. Then not so gently.
"Get off me, woman!" said Marcus, his voice fussy and irritable. Hannibal gave a great deep belly laugh.
"Not so Stoic now, eh Marcus?"
Hannibal spotted me staring at him. I was a little scared but I had to ask what it meant.
"What's Stoic?" I asked.
"In short? 'No complaining' And it’s a pretty good philosophy. Even if Marcus helped invent it".
"Are you Hannibal Barca?" I asked. "The greatest general of all time?"
His eyes narrowed and I felt afraid. But I was only trying to be nice.
"I am Hannibal Barca. A warrior," he said. "And you are?"
"You defeated the Romans! You took elephants over the Alps! You are one of the greatest Generals who ever lived! You..."
"Just got flattened at the siege of Castle Doom," he said, with a wry smile. "I was one of your five soldiers. You were in command. Back to war school for you, Boy General!"
"They had more men than me! It wasn’t fair!"
Hannibal seemed vastly amused by this but I couldn't see why.
"Lesson one," he said. "War isn’t fair".
"Where am I?"
"Warworld. And this is Valhalla. Where you take a break before the next battle. And this Marcus Aurelius, Roman Emperor and great Stoic philosopher. Who's a bit grumpy for a Stoic, really."
"Wow!" I said. "Marcus Aurelius! The Roman Emperor! You're a very wise man, Sir," I said to Mr Aurelius.
"Then why is he in here every day?" laughed Hannibal. "Drinking wine and talking tripe. Doesn't seem very wise to me. And why didn’t you call me, Sir.”
"I was an Emperor, Hannibal. You were just a hooligan.”
Hannibal was more interested in getting another drink. Boudica was approaching, heavily laden with beer and wine.
"Wench!" he said, thumping the table. "More wine! And what will you have, Boy General?"
"Do you have any wine gums?" I asked, I didn't see why that was so funny. "Or Coca Cola? My Mum won’t let me have Coca Cola".
Hannibal and Boudica shared a smile.
"We don't do Coca Cola, love," said Boudica. "Lemonade?"
"Yes, please."
Hannibal was pinching Boudica somewhere she didn't want to be pinched so she gave him a good hard cuff round the head before going to get my lemonade.
"Lemonade for the General!" called Hannibal which made a lot of the drunk people laugh. Well I like lemonade.
"You try!" said Hannibal, handing me a stack of beermats.
I lined up three on the table edge and flicked them upwards. I didn't catch them. Hannibal just laughed and started on another big stack himself while I kept practising with my three.
"I can't do it! It's too hard!" I said. People kept asking me to do impossible things. Parents. Teachers. Girls.
"Why complain?" said Marcus. "If your hut is smoky? Move out!"
Hannibal grimaced.
"Yes, Marcus. You can sort anyone’s life out, except your own. How's the family?"
Marcus groaned and buried his head in his hands the way Dad does sometimes.
"I come here to discuss serious issues," said Marcus. "To try to find answers to the eternal questions".
Boudica was passing once more, the muscles in her arm bulging as she hefted more drinks around. These soldiers and philosophers certainly seemed to have a thirst on them.
"You’re hiding from your family," said Boudica. "Typical man!"
"I need space to work!" protested Marcus.
"Wine to drink, more like," said Boudica.
"What’s wrong with her?" I asked, once she had stomped off.
"Bad divorce," said Hannibal. "Not that there are any good ones. Marriages may end but divorces last forever".
I didn't want to cry in front of these famous warriors but there was a lump in my throat. I drank some lemonade quickly.
"Your folks split?" asked Hannibal.
"Dad moved out. But they might get back together again!"
He didn't say anything for a while. The drunken racket raged around us while on our table time stood still.
"Maybe," said Hannibal.
"They’ll go crazy if I don’t get back!" I said.
"What’s the hurry?" asked Hannibal. “Don’t you like it here?"
Just then a pirate swung his fist right in a cowboy's face. There was a crunch of bone and then he flew through the air and landed right on our table. Hannibal swatted him off and onto the floor as if he had been a fly. On the next table Vikings were toasting each other endlessly.
"It’s very...lively," I said.
"Really?" said Hannibal. "Not bad considering we are all dead".
"I'm dead?"
"Till you throw the dice again," said Hannibal. "Relax! Have some lemonade. Let your parents enjoy each other's company for a change".
Suddenly I wanted to cry again. I was a long way from home. And dead, apparently. But soldiers don't cry. Neither should ghosts, spirits or evolved boys. So I just nodded at Hannibal. Actually, after listening to Mum and Dad arguing all the time it was a relief to be in Warworld. Just to get some peace and quiet. But I still wanted to know if my Mum and Dad would get back together. And if I could help make it happen.
"I just don't understand the rules of this game," I told Hannibal.
Marcus and Hannibal exchanged a weary smile. Hannibal extended a hand to the philosopher. As if to say, "You can field this one."
Marcus cleared his throat and put a very serious face on. For some reason this exasperated Hannibal who called for yet more wine.
"Once you think you know the rules they change,” said Mr Aurelius. “There's more than one set of rules."
He looked like he had told me something important. But it didn't make any sense. Maybe Hannibal Barca could tell me how to get Mum and Dad back together. Or what the secret code was. Or why that King Arthur figure was so important. And most of all I wanted to get back to my world.
Who would tell me how?

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