‘This is unprecedented,’ the Emperor said.

I bowed my head, frightened. Could this be new even to San?

The Emperor said nothing. He stood in thought, tall and gaunt, with perfect stature, his hands clasped behind his back. His white hair hung straight to the level of his shoulders, his sarcenet robes hung straight to the floor. His clothes were the style of the time he founded the First Circle and was proclaimed Emperor. He wore no crown, never anything but plain white, apart from the robe’s wide embroidered collar with panels of colourless jewels.

San looked up to the gallery and called, ‘Summon the captain of the Imperial Fyrd!’

He unfastened his cloak at the shoulder, took it off and placed it on the cushion of the throne. He lifted the broadsword from the back of the throne and wrapped its belt around his waist.

I gasped-my hand covered my mouth-I couldn’t believe I was seeing this. He had never so much as touched the sword before, and now he really was buckling it on. He tucked the strap end through and the sword hung at his side, in the folds of his robe.

The Imperial Fyrd captain ran in, down the side aisle. I waited in stunned silence, hearing his footsteps approach behind the piers of the arches. He knelt beside me. He was shaking, staring, and so pale I thought he was going to faint.

The Emperor took his round sunburst shield from the back of the throne and slipped his arm through it. He stood with the shield held fittingly. ‘Is my horse ready?’

The captain was too terrified to speak, but he gave an obeisant nod.

The Emperor said, ‘The people need my direction. Assemble all the Imperial Fyrd on the Berm Lawns. Fetch my armour and the locked chest from the treasury. Make haste! I will lead you to the front. Bring the fastest horses; for speed we will overnight at manor houses and we ride without pause. Comet?’

‘My lord?’ I managed, dry-mouthed.

‘Call up the fyrds. All of them, from every manor. Every battalion, every division, every company, every squad. Signal Slake Cross to warn them of our arrival. Then you will meet us at the town.’

San stepped down from the dais, passed us, walked through the first arch to the small door to his private apartments. He shut the door behind him.

Noises began to resound from up on the balcony; a crash as one of the archers fainted. The others dropped their bows and turned to each other open-mouthed, seeking an explanation-as if they could ever begin to explain San’s actions.

My insides seemed to liquefy. I risked a glance sideways; the captain’s eyes were shut, his jowly face hung forwards. He whispered, ‘San is leaving the Castle. It’s the end of the world.’

Commotion on the balcony as the archers started gabbling hysterically, mouthing reassurances, anticipating the imminent arrival of god. They rattled down the turret stairs and sped out to spread the news.

I slowly rose to my feet. The captain turned dark blue eyes up to me. ‘Why Slake Cross? Is that where god-?’

I was brusque, since I was just as scared. ‘You have your orders. Put nonsensical myths out of your mind and do what the Emperor said.’

‘Is it the end of the world?’

‘We can’t change what’s happening. Do your job and I’ll do mine; it’s all we’ll be remembered for.’

The Castle suddenly seemed very empty; the archers had gone and the Throne Room was deserted for the first time since the Pentadrica fell. I glanced at the five columns in the apse behind the throne: an azurite column for Awia, jade for the Plainslands, porphyry for Morenzia, haematite for Darkling, and a new, solid gold column for Tris.

I ran to Lisade, the Castle’s library. It takes all the books and journals of the Fourlands-the Emperor is believed to read every one. I ran past the Lawyer’s vacant rooms, up to the semaphore tower recently built for me on the roof. I had brought the idea of the semaphore back from Tris, figuring that if I didn’t then someone else would Challenge me with it later. I had employed several Trisians to handle the network which is being installed across the Fourlands. Its instant communication posed no real threat to my position since the Messenger must be at least as much a diplomat as an errand runner.

I left my messages with the Trisian semaphore operator, and he began pulling the levers which would swing the white planks on their post to send the news out across the Empire. I sped to the other side of the Castle and grabbed some food from the kitchens, called in at the treasury in Carillon Court building and picked up a bag of coin.

The Starglass struck eleven as I sped out to the Berm Lawns, to take off. Had it only been an hour since I landed? The Castle had broken into a whirlwind of activity. Servants raced from building to building, hollering the news before them. The gaudy-liveried Imperial Fyrd were lugging saddle bags out of Harcourt Barracks; halberds and armour gleamed as they were jostled out of the armoury behind it. Stable hands were leading horses in through the Dace Gate five at a time. A few grey-haired Imperial Fyrd guardsmen were piling up equipment between the Throne Room’s buttresses.

The preparation gave me a vivid image of the Pentadrican Queen a millennium ago, leading her court to view the newly arrived Insects; a flower-decked procession out of the Throne Room’s very building straight into their jaws.

A trainer dashed past, dashed back and valiantly tried to attract my attention. ‘Messenger! I brought Alezane.’ He indicated a flawless black warhorse. I cast an eye over its splendid tack. I had always seen Alezane kept in the stables or out exercising, always ready for the Emperor, but I never had the slightest inkling I would see San riding it.

The boy put a finger in his mouth. ‘I saddled Alezane for the Emperor himself! Is he really leaving?’

I said, ‘The Emperor isn’t abandoning us. He’s leading. To Slake Cross-where every one of us is going.’

The boy tried to fit all his fingers into his mouth. ‘Is god coming back?’

‘I don’t know. But within the hour the Emperor will lead the Imperial Fyrd out of the Castle-’ I pointed at the Dace Gate. I spoke with growing confidence and a sense of surprise at the back of my mind that I did not need to act. My own self-belief overcame me and gave my voice strength. The grooms began to gather around me, warming themselves on my reassurance. ‘-Help them to leave as fast as they can. Then all of you, follow on behind to Slake Cross. We’ll need you at the other end.’

The semaphore doesn’t yet extend to the outposts of the Empire, so I would have to fly to the most distant manors and to those with the most obstructive governors. Brandoch was my first stop. I clapped my hands briskly. ‘Right! Let’s be organised about this!’

I took to the air. As I flew I recalled San going through the nondescript little door of his private apartments. I itched to know what was in there. No one has ever been inside; no servants are allowed to enter. The Cook told me he brings the Emperor’s meal to the door every night, after the closing of the Throne Room session. As far as we know, the Emperor only eats one simple meal a day.

Perhaps when San has departed, I could peek inside. No, I didn’t dare; not unless I could put at least the length of the continent between him and me. I wouldn’t mind trying the sunburst throne, though.

I rode the wind, lost in my thoughts. The Emperor remained an enigma to us all, even those Eszai who had known him longest. He was old before god stopped time affecting him, two thousand years ago in Hacilith. His centuries as sage to the ancient kings, then warrior against the Insects and finally as advisor for the Fourlands, have given him an understanding of people so profound it seems inhuman.