‘If I meant Khamsin I would have said Khamsin,’ replied Mother Zenobia, beginning to get annoyed. ‘Tamsin was Mu’shad Waseed’s second wife. Frightful, frightful woman. Her love of glittery things, fine robes and bathing in rabbit’s milk set feminism back four centuries. And since you interrupted again, I’m going to ask Sister Assumpta to finish the story.’

‘Please don’t.’

Personally, I liked Sister Assumpta, but she had an annoying habit of telling stories using cricket as a metaphor. I’d be hearing the story in the context of a match, with the knights using the Mighty Shandar as their last man in, and fifty to make in failing light.

‘Very well,’ said Mother Zenobia, who didn’t like cricket metaphors either. ‘Last chance.’

‘“Great Mu’shad Waseed,” continued Shandar, “I read of your work in Sorcerers Monthly. Your control of the thunderstorm and the winds is quite awe-inspiring.”

‘But Mu’shad Waseed, who was the combustible product of a Persian father and a Welsh mother, was too angry to return Shandar’s politeness and instead caused a massive rainstorm to move in from the west, and as all the ambassadors of the seventy-eight kingdoms of the Ununited Kingdoms ran for cover, Mu’shad Waseed and Shandar faced each other. Their eyes narrowed and a Super Grand Master Sorcerers’ contest seemed ready to begin. But Shandar, whose turn it was by the sorcerer’s code to begin the contest, did nothing.

‘“Very well,” said Shandar slowly, a smile gathering on his lips, “you may deal with the Dragon Question. I shall return when you fail.” And so saying, he vanished.

‘Mu’shad Waseed gulped. In reality he knew that he did not have the power of the Mighty Shandar; when he had built a castle in Alexandria it had taken him not one night, but a month, and although he had, on occasion, built palaces in a lunch break, none of them had included – as Shandar’s had – a four-acre heated swimming pool, a library containing every book ever published and a zoo that apart from most of the world’s animals, also included a few that the Mighty Shandar had made up himself.

‘Whoops, thought Mu’shad Waseed, as the seventy-eight ambassadors of the Ununited Kingdoms emerged from their carriages wearing raincoats and galoshes, eager to know how Mu’shad Waseed was going to deal with the Dragon Question.’

The Dragon Question

The Dragon Question