'Make way, make way! Fifty kinds of fresh fish coming through for the kitchen!'

It was early morning, and Tommy was crossing the great courtyard of Flamant Castle. She dodged out of the way of the cart clattering across the flagstones, only to hear someone behind her yell: 'Watch where you're going, girlie. I've got five hundred eggs in this basket!'

'Sorry,' Tommy said, as the egg woman barged past her.

The courtyard was busier than she'd ever seen it. She stepped out of the path of a man rolling two enormous rounds of cheese, as big as cart wheels.

'Poultry coming through: starlings, storks and swans!'

Tommy craned her head to look at the brace of birds the poultry man had slung around his neck. What was going on?

She had almost reached the armoury where she worked when she saw a small round man in brown robes. Despite all the activity in the courtyard, he was looking at the sky.

'Good morning, sir,' Tommy said to the physician.

'Eh?' said the physician. 'Oh, hello, Sword Girl. Have you seen the carrier pigeon?'

'No,' said Tommy. 'Not this morning.'

'Bother. I need some of his droppings for one of my cures.' The physician looked up at the sky again.

'Sir, why is the castle so busy this morning?' Tommy asked.

'Busy?' The physician looked around at the tradespeople hurrying to and fro. 'I suppose it must be something to do with the great banquet,' he said.

'A great banquet?' said Tommy, excited. 'What banquet?'

But the physician had wandered off. 'Where is that pigeon?' he was muttering to himself.

Maybe the blacksmith would know something about the great banquet, Tommy hoped.

She entered the armoury to see the blacksmith standing by the fire, softening a piece of armour that needed reshaping. Several shields and helmets were stacked on the workbench, also in need of repair.

'Smith, have you heard about the great banquet?' Tommy asked.

The blacksmith looked up at her from under his bushy eyebrows. 'Oh aye, I've heard about it,' he said. 'But we've no time for feastin' here, Sword Girl. Sir Benedict and his men will be leaving tomorrow to patrol Sir Walter's lands. They'll need two dozen swords, so you'd better hop to it.'

'Yes, Smith,' said Tommy. 'Right away.' As Keeper of the Blades, it was her job to clean and sharpen all the bladed weapons of the castle.

She went through the door to the left of the fireplace into the sword chamber and quickly got to work. Pulling swords from the long rack against the wall opposite the door, she used a file and whetstone to sharpen the blades before polishing them with clove-scented oil.

'You're working hard this morning, dearie,' came a voice from a small rack of swords in the dimmest part of the room. It was one of the Old Wrecks. These were the swords that had never been carried into battle, and so were never used by the knights of Flamant Castle. They had been dusty and neglected when Tommy first started work in the sword chamber, but now their blades shone in the light of the candle flickering on the wall. What none of the knights knew – except Sir Benedict – was that the Old Wrecks were inhabited by the spirits of their last owners.

Tommy glanced at the sabre which had spoken. 'Hello, Nursie,' she said. 'Smith told me that Sir Benedict is taking some of the knights out on a patrol tomorrow, so I have to get their swords ready.'

Sir Benedict was Flamant Castle's bravest knight, and he was responsible for the safety of the castle and lands belonging to Sir Walter the Bald and his wife, Lady Beatrix the Bored.

'A patrol, eh?' a deep voice boomed from a long-handled dagger. 'It sounds like trouble on the borders, if you ask me.'

'Well I didn't ask you, Bevan Brumm,' Nursie replied. 'What would you know about patrols? You were a merchant, not a knight.'

'I think Bevan Brumm might be right, though,' said another, younger voice. This was Jasper Swann. Jasper had been a squire, training to be a knight, before he fell ill and died. 'I heard some of the knights talking in here the other day and one of them said that Sir Malcolm the Mean had been trying to steal some of Sir Walter's land.'

'Who is Sir Malcolm the Mean?' Tommy wanted to know.

'He has the lands to the west of here, dearie,' Nursie explained. 'But his own lands have never been enough for him. Oh no. He wants his neighbours' lands too.'

'He wants Sir Walter's lands?' exclaimed Tommy.

'Not just his lands, Sword Girl,' rumbled Bevan Brumm. 'Sir Malcolm the Mean wants Flamant Castle – and if Sir Benedict can't stop him at the border ...'

Tommy's heart started to pound. 'What?' she said. 'What will happen if Sir Benedict can't stop him?'

Bevan Brumm sounded grim. 'Flamant Castle will be at war.'

Flamant castle at war! Tommy knew that noblemen often fought each other, but Flamant Castle had been at peace for many years.

Now that she understood how important Sir Benedict's patrol was, Tommy put extra care into preparing the swords. When she had finished sharpening and polishing each sword, she examined their blades again until she was sure they were as sharp as they could be.

By the time she had finished and stepped out into the courtyard she was tired and hungry, but before she headed over to the kitchen for dinner she decided to find Lil. The cat knew everything that went on in the castle — she would surely know if the castle was close to war.

Tommy scanned the courtyard, but Lil, who usually spent the afternoons napping on a sun-warmed flagstone, was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps all the day's activity had disturbed her and she had found somewhere quieter to sleep. Before she went through the low arch leading out of the courtyard, Tommy looked up at the battlements. Normally she didn't think twice before leaving the castle walls, but now she was glad to see the guards keeping watch. Suddenly the world outside the castle didn't seem as safe.

Tommy slipped through the castle gate and ran to the edge of the moat which encircled the castle walls. She looked left and right, and spotted the black and white cat sitting a little way off. As Tommy approached she could see that Lil was talking to the crocodiddle who lived in the moat. The crocodiddle, who usually wore a giant grin, seemed very quiet today.

'Lil, I've been looking for you everywhere,' said Tommy when she drew near. She turned to the crocodiddle. 'How are you, Mr Crocodiddle?'

The crocodiddle fixed a mournful gaze on Tommy. 'Hello, Sword Girl. I was just telling Lil that I — aaaahhh-CHOO!' His giant wet sneeze almost drenched the cat.

'Do you mind?' said Lil, shaking herself.

'I can't help it,' said the crocodiddle miserably. 'I've got the sneezles.'

'You poor thing,' said Tommy sympathetically.

'I know,' moaned the crocodiddle. Then he sank so low into the moat that only his beady yellow eyes were visible. Every now and then a burst of bubbles told Tommy that he was sneezing underwater.

'So why were you looking for me?' Lil asked.

Tommy told Lil about Sir Benedict's patrol and her conversation with the Old Wrecks. 'Is it true that Sir Malcolm the Mean wants to take over Flamant Castle?'

Lil nodded slowly. 'It is true,' she said. 'And it's true that some of his knights have been seen on Sir Walter's land. But you shouldn't be too worried about it, Tommy. There's not another knight around here that could beat Sir...