Magic Parcel by Frank English Page B

leave his brother without trying to help? At least, they would be captured together.
    As he turned to descend, to take up the Last Battle, he was startled again to hear the rattle of side drums, accompanied this time by the blare of brazen trumpets. The sight beneath him almost made him fall from his perch. Men in green had sprouted from nowhere, and were striding through the masses of Senti, swords and axes swinging, like farmers through a field of corn. Heads rolled and bodies were tossed aside like handfuls of chaff in the wind.
    Apart from the swish of blades, the roll of drums, and the squeals of the Senti, the whole operation was carried out with silent efficiency.
    Tommy was soon relieved of his burdensome overcoat of white bodies, and was brought to a standing position by two enormous, silent guardsmen. Grim-faced and tight-lipped, they set him on his feet between them, a position soon also to be assumed by his brother, and there they remained until the last Senti had been crushed back into the earth.
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    â€œWhat are you then?” one of the guards growled when all the Senti had been removed, a frown threatening to send his already overgrown eyebrows thundering into the rest of his face.
    â€œCan’t look up at his face for long,” Jimmy began thinking. “He’s too high and I would get neck ache.”
    â€œYou will have to come with us,” growled the mountainous guard. “Our chief will want to see you.”
    The guardsmen spent the next few minutes jabbering at each other in some language which was utterly unintelligible to the boys, so they stopped listening and trying to make out what they were saying. Eventually, when the conversation had receded, Tommy and Jimmy were picked up, tucked each under an enormous hairy armpit where they stayed quite comfortable, en route to the “chieftain” of this particular tribe, whoever he was. They didn’t have to wait too long.
    Long before they saw him, they felt his presence; stifling and powerful, it made their heads spin and ears pop.
    â€œI’m going to get a head ...” Jimmy started.
    â€œSilence!” growled one of their guardians. “You will not speak unless told to do so.”
    Jimmy reddened slightly around the cheeks, which showed he was growing up considerably and learning to accept orders without question; without becoming acutely embarrassed and wanting to hide behind mum. The length of time they had spent in the wild certainly had done something for him. What he was not at all sure.
    He turned slowly to look at his brother and was puzzled to see his mouth open, and a look of blank amazement on his face. He turned himself to follow the same direction as Tommy’s gaze. What he saw, he didn’t understand, but it filled him with wonder and fear all the same.
    Away to his right, on the edge of the clearing they now found themselves in, there was an indistinct mass of grey mist, constantly moving and changing shape. Basically it was the size and shape of a man, but the mist was so effective a screen, neither features nor details could be seen. After a few moments watching, the observer was left with the feeling that there was in fact nothing there at all; had it not been for the power! Whilst its intensity waxed, the observer could do nothing of his own free will. The Thing was in complete control.
    Suddenly, their minds were seized, searched thoroughly for a few moments, and then released. As that snap of release happened, their eyes cleared, and the mist had gone. In its place stood a man, the like of which they had seen before only in fantasy story books. A little shorter than their guardians his personal stature and magnetism were much greater. His long flowing white hair and beard cascaded over a powerful and youthful frame, and were circled about the forehead and temples by a small silver band. No other mark of clothing distinguished him from the others, save a belt of leaves around