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I want zem all wizzin my clutches!

Tiny swords clanged as Napoleon advanced on the noble, innocent Lords of Glass Town, cutting them down one by one The Douro puppet danced out of the way, carefully placing other ht Soult flicked the s this way and that as Zaerland and all the rest fell beneath Napoleon’s blades Douro’s descendant frowned and began to scratch nervously at his picnic blanket

We fought him back and Gondal reaped

The bloody wheat they sowed,

But when the hour of victory dawned,

Old Douro let the villain go!

The Douro puppet raised his sword above Bonaparte’s head, then bowed to him instead and knelt to help the , rueful sadness passed through the crowd like waves The Duchess of Can’t wiped away even more tears than usual

“Kill him!” someone yelled from the back

“Stab him in the face, you moron!” hollered another

“If only! If only!” Sergeant Crashey joined in

But nothing they could say would alter Young Soult’s play Charlotte leaned forward, trying to piece it all together with the Battle of Port Ruby and everything she’d ever learned in her history books about Waterloo and Trafalgar and the thousand versions of those battles they’d acted out in their room at the top of the stairs while it rained on the moors outside

Why did the old man mercy choose?

“Because he had cheese biscuits for brains!” a drunken Lord bellowed Everyone roared with laughter, except Adrian and Mary Percy, who seemed to have nailed scowls to their faces Soult cleared his throat and started over

Why did the old man mercy choose?

We dare not ask his mind,