"Ah, you poor wee bairn," lamented Mrs Bennett. "Left penniless, and forced to leave the hall of your fathers."

The pair of them had walked away from Pip's childhood home early that morning, Pip wearing his black velvet suit, Mrs Bennett in her tartan skirt. Each of them carried a few belongings in a leather satchel, worn slung over their shoulder, and by now they had reached the village, a good mile from the house.

"But where are we going, Mrs Bennett?" asked Pip, because with so little time to prepare, their destination had never been discussed.

"To Camden," replied Mrs Bennett, stopping briefly to get a stone out of her shoe.

Camden! The kingdom's capital, and a name Pip had learned in a dozen nursery rhymes at his mother's knee.

Which is the way to Camden Town
To see the king in his golden crown?
One foot up, and one foot down
That is the way to Camden Town.

He had heard of it in so many rhymes and tales that it barely seemed a real place, but rather a city out of myth and legend. Now he was actually in a nursery rhyme, putting one foot in front of another in order to reach Camden Town.

"But that is many miles away!" Pip said in distress. "Must we walk all that distance by ourselves, wearing out shoe leather?"

"Nay, laddie," Mrs Bennett reassured him. "We have only to walk to the crossroads down there. That's where we catch the omnibus."

She pointed to a place where two roads crossed each other, about two hundred yards downhill from the last house of the village. In a couple of minutes they had reached the place where the omnibus stopped, although there was nothing to mark it except the familiar signpost pointing TO CAMDEN.

"So all this time, Mama and Papa could have taken me to Camden by just walking to the omnibus stop?" Pip said in surprise, suddenly realising that his little world had been closer to the wide world than he ever imagined.

"They would never have taken you on a public conveyance," snorted Mrs Bennett. "And your Ma and Dadda weren't ones for mixing with folk grander than themselves."

That was true, Pip thought. In all his life before, he and his parents had been the people at the top – the most well-born, the handsomest, the best-dressed, and seemingly the wealthiest. The idea that he might see great nobles and even royalty in Camden was an exciting one.

He was still mulling this over when he saw the omnibus approaching, pulled by four strong-looking bay horses, and soon enough, it pulled up. The driver had long grizzled hair and wore dark green velvet livery, a heavy brown coat over him for warmth.

"Good morning, my dame," he said, raising his battered top hat. "Will you be taking the omnibus to Camden today?"

"Aye, that we will," Mrs Bennett said. "My old feet cannot walk so far these days."

Seeing Pip was patting the horses and talking to them in a low voice, the driver asked, "You like horses, little boy? Want to sit beside me all the way to the great city?" There was something in his smile Pip didn't like.

"Away with you," said Mrs Bennett, bristling at this impertinence. "How dare you speak to my grandson like that? Pip, get on the omnibus at once before this lackwitted creature takes any further liberties."

Mrs Bennett climbed aboard the omnibus with Pip following her closely. She took two silver coins from her purse, which was all the bounty Mr Pike had bestowed upon her, and gave them to the omnibus conductor, a rather scruffy fellow in a green linen uniform. He wordlessly pointed to two seats they could sit in, and then the omnibus began moving. They were on the road to Camden, Pip leaving his old life behind forever.

"Mrs Bennett, I'm not really your grandson," Pip said confidentially, with all the compunction of a child who has been whipped for telling lies.

"I know, laddie. I think it would be safest if we tell people that you are. Otherwise, they may try to take you away from me," Mrs Bennett explained.

"What would I call you?"

"Whatever you like, laddie."

Pip had a think, then suggested, "What about Granny Bennett?"

"That will do nicely. Now, we had an early start and it's a long journey to Camden, so why don't you put your head on my shoulder and have a little sleep?" said Granny Bennett, passing Pip a pear drop.

Pip obediently put his head on his new granny's bony shoulder and sucked on his sweet in enjoyment, but everything was far too interesting for him to go to sleep. The road took them through thick woods, until they came to green fields, and villages that Pip had never been to before. Some not very different to his own, which was little more than a hamlet with a tiny shop and a scattering of cottages. Others had dozens of houses and establishments, and one boasted a village green with a pond covered in white ducks.

Each time the omnibus stopped in a village, people got on, until it was clear they were all travelling up to Camden together. Pip looked at everyone, and tried not to stare, wondering who they all were, and why they had to go to the city.

Around mid-morning the omnibus stopped in Woolverstone for half an hour so the horses and driver could rest, and most of the passengers took the opportunity to go a tea shop or buy a few things. Granny Bennett and Pip couldn't afford that, but they got out and stretched their legs.

Granny looked in her satchel and found some homemade oat biscuits they could nibble on, and there was a tap in the street with a rusty mug on a chain that passersby could drink from. The water tasted flat and metallic to Pip, nothing at all like the well water he was used to.

Woolverstone was a large town, so bustling that Pip could barely believe that Camden would be any bigger – why, it was busier than Ash Tree Hill on market day! There was something rather grim and dirty about it though, and most of the people walking past them looked surly and rough, so Pip was glad they weren't going to live there. Little did he realise that without Granny Bennett's intervention, Woolverstone would have been his home for many years to come.

For the second half of the journey, the omnibus mostly travelled through scrubby heath and marshland, which was duller to look at. Pip really did fall asleep then, and Granny Bennett put an arm around him so that he didn't fall off the seat. Her own eyes remained as open and alert as ever, because she knew they were likely to be robbed if they both nodded off on an omnibus.

Pip woke up when they reached the town of Sudforth, rubbing his eyes at its wealth and importance. And then they were beside the great River Tayo. It was so broad and deep, stretching as far west as the eye could see, that Pip held onto Granny Bennett's hand as the omnibus drove over the bridge. He looked down at the river, listening to the wheels rattle on the bridge, and tried not to imagine what would happen if they all pitched over the side into the depths below. After all, wasn't there another rhyme about Camden Bridge falling down?

"It's all right, laddie, we're safe enough," Granny said, squeezing his hand, and he smiled at her a little nervously.

But across the Tayo rose the grey stone walls of Camden, its massive arched gate open, as if inviting all citizens of the kingdom to enter. The omnibus stopped outside the city walls, and its passengers alighted. Pip and Granny Bennett followed the others as they made their way towards the gate.

"It's so funny to think of a city having a front gate, just like a house," said Pip.

"Oh, this isn't the front gate, laddie," Granny Bennett told him. "There are seven gates to the city, and the main one is the East Gate, facing the sea. This is the Castle Gate. Only those on foot can use it – that's why the omnibus stops outside."

Once through the gate, there was a busy thoroughfare lined with houses and shops, many people selling their wares on the street. The road led up to a castle on a hill with shining white walls and four great towers, one at each corner. From its roof flew the kingdom's flag, sea green with a white horse on its hind legs, as a sign that the king was in residence.

"Granny Bennett, what are we going to do in Camden?" asked Pip, overwhelmed with the sights, sounds, and smells of the capital.

"I'm going to ask for my old position back," Granny Bennett replied.

"What did you used to do?"

"I was the head pastry cook at Camden Palace," Granny Bennett said. "But I don't know if they'll want me back after so many years."

"Oh Granny Bennett, I'm sure they will," Pip said. "You make the most wonderful pies."

Granny sniffed. "Pies! When I worked in the palace kitchens, I made the finest puddings, all fit for the king himself. Cakes shaped like the castle, with a glass river running past with choux pastry swans on it, and the royal family all done in perfect chocolate figurines. In summer I made iced cream, in winter, spiced puddings and biscuits for Yuletide. It was a lot more than a few pies!"

"That all sounds wonderful. Of course they'll want you back," Pip said confidently.

"First we'll have a little spot of dinner," Granny Bennett said. "Never turn up hungry when asking for a job, laddie. If they can smell hunger or desperation, you don't stand a chance."

Granny Bennett opened her satchel, and took out some bread and cheese she'd packed that morning. It was all the food they had, and when they'd finished Granny took her last copper coin and bought a bottle of ginger beer from a street seller, which they shared. They washed their hands and faces under a public tap, and Granny tidied her hair as best she could.

Then they walked up to Camden Palace, and Granny Bennett showed Pip where to go as she slipped around to an insignificant-looking side door used by the palace staff.

"Name and business," said a tall, burly guard at the entrance.

"Mrs Bennett. I worked at the palace before, and am seeking a position here again."

"And the kid?"

"My grandson."

The guard spoke to a porter inside the door, and Granny Bennett and Pip were allowed through, entering a long dark hallway. A servant led them to the office of the Clerk of the Kitchen, which Granny entered after knocking and being called in, leaving Pip outside.

"Be good and wait for Granny here, laddie," she said, gesturing to a bench he could sit on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LINDENSEA LORE

The white horse standing rampart on the national flag of Lindensea is said to be in tribute to King Hengist the Conqueror, also called Hengist the Horse. According to legend, he was able to transform himself into a white stallion at will. Some say the legend is merely a folk memory of Hengist arriving here from over the white-capped waves, while others claim it is a reference to the proportions of the king's male appendage. It is further asserted, with what truth I cannot say, that all kings and princes of Lindensea enjoy similar dimensions, but I urge the reader not to dwell on such unsubstantiated and distasteful rumours.

 From The Heraldry of Lindensea by Sir Alban Bayard-Uffington