Links to Chapter One and Chapter Two
Edmund slipped and shivered through the snow until he eventually found the Witch’s castle. It looked quite creepy, but bolstered by thoughts of Turkish Delight (oh, his Saracens – and the Scarlets were his favourite Welsh side), he crept through the imposing main gate.
He found himself in a courtyard filled with statues. They had snow settling on them, and they all looked very sad. Near the gate, there were a couple of magnificent Lions, and then he spotted a statue that looked very like Lucy’s description of Mr Iknus. There was a collection of stone rugby balls, and what looked like a few referees. (“Those referees probably deserved it,” thought Edmund.)
Suddenly, Edmund was rooted to the spot by a chilling low growl. He turned his head to find himself staring into the eyes of Maugrim, chief of the Witch’s Very Secret Police.
“Come,” said Maugrim, “Her Majesty is expecting you.”
* * *
“What!” said the Witch, not at all friendly like the last time, “Have you come alone? I told you to bring the Daughters of Maeve and the other Son of George.”
“B – b – but,” stammered Edmund, afraid of her icy stare and stern manner, “I couldn’t get them away from the Beavers. They were all talking about the return of Paulan to Narnia.”
The Queen turned even paler, if that were possible.
“Paulan!” she muttered to herself, “No, it cannot be possible. My spells are strong.”
Before Edmund knew what had happened, she had crossed the room and spear-tackled him with one strong arm. “Tell me all,” she said, preparing to drive his head into the ground.
Edmund, quaking with fear, told her all that he knew.
The Witch released him with a thump on the floor, and clapped her hands to summon her minions.
“Harness the springboks and prepare my sledge immediately! Get my dwarf! Maugrim: take the swiftest of your wolves, go to the Lodge, and kill the children and the Beavers. If they have already gone, then proceed to the Stone Stadium.”
In the twinkling of a drop goal, the sledge pulled up, driven by a dwarf who looked suspiciously like a scrum-half. Edmund was bound, and unceremoniously dumped into the bottom of the sledge. There wasn’t even any Turkish Delight.
* * *
“Susan,” said Peter, “Where’s Edmund?”
“I – I don’t know. Now that you mention it, I haven’t noticed him for a while.”
“Ah, children,” said Mr Beaver, “I’m afraid he’s gone to see the Witch. We must be on our way quickly.”
“What?”, said Lucy, “No, surely Edmund would never betray us.”
“Daughter, I’m afraid he has the look of one who is in the Witch’s favour. How long that favour lasts is another matter.
“Did anyone notice when he left? Did he hear that Paulan is on the move?”
Nobody was quite sure.
“Then we must be off at once. Mrs Beaver, please pack us up as quickly as you can.”
Mrs Beaver – for of course it’s always the females who are prepared for anything – had already got nearly everything ready for travelling. She had a pack ready for everyone, and they were off in less time than it takes to reset a scrum.
* * *
They had a long, cold and weary journey, and stopped after some hours at a safe hiding place, where they cast themselves down on the floor, covered themselves with the blankets kindly provided by Mrs Beaver, and fell asleep immediately.
They were awakened at dawn by some faint voices, which became clearer as they drew closer.
“Ho, ho ho! Go left! It’s on!”
“I’m straighter than that throw-in.”
The children rubbed the sleep from their eyes and looked in confusion at the Beavers.
“It’s Father Jiffy and Father Nige,” beamed Mr Beaver. “The Witch’s magic has kept them from Narnia for so long, but her enchantment is fading. The voices of rugby have returned to the land.” They rushed outside to find a volley of rugby balls flying through the air, and the snow at last melting.
Ovally Balls 
Happy Star Wars Day
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Have been reading about the Belgian potato industry today.
This is the Belgian frite industry’s ambassador, James Bint:
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DNA watch:
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Star Wars Day and, more importantly, Mrs BB’s Birthday!
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Excellent ATL, Thauma – loved the pic of Faf and the Boks. Splendid dig at 49% of the world’s population too!
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A lovely review of Michael Moore’s latest offering in the Daily Maverick, a very good paper down here:
Filmmaker Michael Moore’s new documentary has just enough of his playbook agitprop to look like a credible new voice in climate journalism. But Planet of the Humans is more like a kindergartener using wax crayons to explain the climate crisis to a campus of PhDs. This is the celluloid equivalent of the Dunning-Kruger effect — he doesn’t know enough to realise how little he knows.
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A birthday greeting to Mrs BB from down here:
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I like Belgian chips. The ones in Bruges are great at 3am.
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Excellent as always Thaum.
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Never had a belgian chip
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I’d like one now. Hungry.
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More than one preferably
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Happy birthday, Mrs BB!
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@chimpie
they’re like French Fries only Belgian.
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Think I need to confirm that via a test.
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Nice one (again) thaum!
& HBD mrs BB!
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Happy Birthday Mrs BB!
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Pedantry alert: French fries are actually from Belgium.
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Chimpie – I can confirm that via my previous chip hypothesis testing.
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Belgian chips are good.
They have a chip mountain at the moment, Belgapom – the body that promotes the Belgian potato industry – is encouraging Belgians to eat frites more often.
Other facts:
Belgium is the world’s greatest exporter of frozen chips.
The UN designated 2008 as the International Year of the Potato.
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Potato facts:
– my Grandad was a potato merchant
– on his truck there was a sign saying “we’ve got the edge on the fruit & veg”
– he used to deliver the spuds to Butterworths chippy. Harry Butterworth was famous for his cheese & onion pie.
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There’s some argument going on about Sarah Vine and her husband’s bookshelves. I was surprised to kearn there’s a book called “How Michael Gove Saves the World”. Authored by CJ.
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Isn’t there some terrible film about potato merchants?
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Tomp – this bookshelf thing is almost like someone getting hold of her browsing history.
Tbh, it seems like a storm inna teacup.
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We had around 400 books lost in the fire through water damage. Some kids books, some really rubbish books, some amazeballs. For some reason that’s one of the things that still makes my gut clench when I think through all the stuff we lost.
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Kate Middleton shows her how to do it:
https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EXKfMkVXsAEdgwf?format=jpg
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To help you start re-building your collection. And with 2 quid off.
https://www.waterstones.com/book/12-rules-for-life/jordan-b-peterson/9780141988511
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That pic of Kate Middleton looks like she was one of the people that bought out Penguin’s offer of 30 nicely-bound classics for £120.
Bastards got there before I did.
Great atl, Thaum, thanks.
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Wotcha, ticht. How are you doing?
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Not bad, TomP, just burying myself in Duolingo, really.
I finished the Scottish Gaelic course (it was disappointingly rudimentary, so I bought university materials, having said that, Gaelic is very difficult), then I thought I’d brush up on my French, and I’ve become obsessed. I have realised that I lost a lot but it’s coming back. I started German, too. I know absolutely nothing about German but when I hear the beginner’s stuff spoken it’s easy to follow, less so in the written form for me.
Are you working?
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Got some rhubarb
Going to make a crumble
There’s much debate in the household as to the optimum crumble / filling ratio. I tend to put it about 50:50 but I do like the crumble (plus mrs chimpie tries to thieve the flipping lot). I’ve been known to go as high as 70:30.
Had one served up to be fairly recently which was about 5:95. Felt distinctly short changed.
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Birthday Girl says one third crumble, two thirds fruit. She Has Spoken!
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Not very much. About 10 hours a week, so about 1/3 of my regular workload and income. Should be getting some funds from the Czech government for the self-employed and we’ve got my missus’s income plus some savings so the wolf isn’t at the door. Not sure what I’ll do when things relax a little bit as I normally work in people’s offices. Still, things are about to get easier here with places opening.
Good leap from duolingo to university level. Am riculously over-confident with my French, haven’t studied it since A-level/university but feel I can do anything with it. Spanish is the weird one for me. Have no confidence speaking it but read a lot of stuff from the Spanish/Colombian papers.
My lad’s now trying to teach me Czech. He’s a tough instructor.
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Great words Thaum. As always, thank you.
Everything all same-same in World Rugby I see. Self interest continues to rule the day. I shouldn’t have hoped, I guess.
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Happy Birthday to Mrs BB. She’s sound on crumble.
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I’m with Mrs BB on the crumble ratio.
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Seems a bit light to me, but not unreasonable
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My spanish phrases have been generally picked up from watching narcos. Maybe need some polishing before trying out.
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All this talk of crumble ratios is all well and good.
But nobody has mentioned custard.
FFS.
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Custard!
There, mentioned it
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Ice cream is an alternative accompaniment.
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a decent quality vanilla
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Tomp – haha that actually got torched in the fire. Mrs Craig’s was reading but hasn’t been in a hurry to finish.
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OT – I like my custard with a sprinkling of custard and a healthy spoonful of fruit.
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Custard is the devil’s condiment. A proper crumble should be accompanied by thick cream.
We’ve got lots of rhubard growing here, if anyone wants some.
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Pedantry alert:
Pedant alert: you got your alert wrong.
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Custard made from scratch is a thing of rare beauty. Basis of good ice cream too.
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Forgot about cream. Clostted cream and crumble. Mmmm.
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@deebee
I know what you mean. Do you use tinned or packet custard?
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