Oh god, I thought; here she goes.

‘The headwaters-I mean, the lake-is intended to be wide rather than deep to flood the largest possible area. You see, the valley is shallow so the lake spreads out.

‘A team of horses will be harnessed to wind a capstan and hoist up the sluice gate. It is so heavy I have used ship’s rope for the winch rather than chain, or else the horses won’t be able to lift it. However, rope doesn’t last for ever in the damp environment and will need to be replaced, so a maintenance shaft accesses the top of the gate.

‘The capstan’s gears are a new invention and they’re fascinating, you see-’

I caught Frost’s eye. She dropped her notes, picked them up and shuffled them. ‘Um. Well…Two hundred million cubic metres of water will be released at a hundred and ten kilometres an hour. The waterfall into the stilling basin and the gabionned and canalised reaches of the river will indeed be impressive.’

I let her drone on while I appraised Kestrel. He was the son of the reeve of Altergate. Kestrel always managed to be the first reporter on the scene of any trouble and he was far too astute a commentator for my liking.

I kept half an ear on Frost’s speech but I had heard it all before and my attention began to drift. I speak every one of the Fourlands’ six current and seven dead languages but I will never be fluent in Frost’s engineering jargon. She once tempted me to learn mathematics by telling me it was a language, but I soon found it was only used to describe things that were really dull. Frost was losing the rest of the audience too. Reporters don’t thank you for too much information because newspapers are never more than three printed sheets.

I thought about my place on the Castle’s tennis ladder. About ways to avoid Eleonora as much as possible. And about the fact that Frost could actually be rather attractive if she made the effort.

Eleonora strode in, waking me from my reverie. The brassy firelight starred her shoulder and waist. Lightning was close behind her, scraping his boots. I leapt to my feet and called, ‘Please stand for the Queen of Awia!’

She seated herself on the bench beside me, placed her helm on the floor and tucked her 1910 Sword behind her on the seat. She sat with her hand on the fabulous opal hilt of that finely-tempered blade.

Frost waited for the audience to settle, then continued, ‘I believe at long last we have a means of winning the war. I am determined not to stop here. The dam will allow us to control the river for decades to come. We can flood adjoining sectors, from which the Insects will also retreat. I can redirect the river and use additional dams to inundate more and more land. Canals will keep Insects out of cleared areas. Over the next half-millennium we can push them further and further back, until we reclaim the entire Paperlands…Then my work, and the work of the Castle, will be complete…Um…I’ve finished, I think.’

I said, ‘Thank you, Frost. Are there any questions?’

Kestrel raised his hand and shouted over half a dozen other reporters, ‘Comet!’

‘Yes, Kestrel?’

‘A hundred years ago the ground gave way. Am I right?’

‘Yes,’ I said quietly.

‘Why can’t it happen again?’

I gestured, allowing Frost to answer. She said, ‘No, no. That’s not possible. I tested the ground thoroughly and it’s solid. The lake has flooded the Insect warren, and the bedding planes and phreatic passages in the karst bedrock-I mean, the caves-are completely full. Slake Master Cave swallowed twice as much water as I first estimated. I admit the tunnels are big. Really big-with a breadth the size of the Throne Room-but there are no Insects left underneath us; foam is pouring out of the resurgence to prove it.’

I said, ‘They pose no danger to the advancing troops, wouldn’t you say, Lightning?’

Lightning stood up. ‘The only difficulty I foresee is an attack from further down the valley. Insects have been pressed back into the Paperlands where there is nothing edible left, so they will be ravenous. But with archers and lancers at all sides, I assure you no Insects will infiltrate our defences nor live to lay a scent trail for the rest.’

Kestrel nodded, and I pointed at another man who had his hand up.

‘Smatchet, Hacilith Post,’ he said. ‘Is it true the Trisians are causing difficulties for the Sailor?’

I said, ‘We’re not discussing Tris now. We’re talking about the dam.’

‘I hear Trisians are striking because they don’t want to be fyrd or sailors.’

‘It must have been days since you ran a story on Mist Fulmer,’ I said sarcastically. He was beloved of the gutter press, finding as he did a whore in every port and a port in every whore, and only half of them women.

‘Is it true there’s a garrison in Capharnaum?’

Kestrel turned to Smatchet and said, ‘The Trisians have put a chain across the whole harbour mouth to prevent ships entering.’

‘Really?’

‘Absolutely.’

I glared eloquently at both of them. ‘The Senate has asked the Castle for assistance in restoring order and we’re complying with Governor Vendace, nothing more. OK?’

Smatchet backed down: ‘OK.’

‘Any more? Yes, Kestrel?’

‘Will draining the dam be safe?’

Frost said, ‘Oh, yes. I agree these are immense hydrostatic forces. To novices the interactions between fluctuating pressures would certainly appear frightening. But I will raise the gate very slowly and control the outflow. It will take five days to release a year’s accumulation of water. I wish I could be more accurate but I can’t, of course, because the reservoir and tunnels are an irregular shape, so we have conditions of flow under varying head. To put it in context…’ She rummaged through the papers on her table and emerged with a sheet covered in a complicated sum. She held it up, then looked frustrated as she realised few people in the room would understand. ‘Come and see me afterwards and I’ll explain…Well, I’ll try to. You can watch the event from a safe distance. It’ll be great-air entrainment and bulking-’

‘White water,’ I said.

‘Whatever.’ Frost shrugged.

I said, ‘Not only will it be safe, it’ll be a sight you can tell the grandchildren about. Are there any more questions? Yes, Smatchet?’

The Hacilith Post reporter addressed Lightning, ‘My lord, our readers would like to know if you are ready to announce a date for your wedding with Governor Swallow Awndyn?’

‘That’s not our topic!’ I said, exasperated.

Lightning answered mildly, ‘I think our engagement needs a little more time.’

I said, ‘Well, there’s your answer. Any more relevant questions?’

Kestrel crossed his legs and nudged his assistant to keep writing. He said, ‘With respect, Comet, is Queen Eleonora making the same mistake as King Dunlin?’

Frost panicked but Eleonora stood up and looked at Kestrel impassively. I said, ‘I don’t understand. What do you mean?’

‘Well, ten years ago the campaign of King Dunlin Rachiswater tried to breach the Wall and for our pains all we had was the worst swarm of Insects for centuries and a horrendous death toll. Altergate lost every man in its conscriptable generation, so that now the Castle has exempted it from the draft. Tambrine is also exempt from fyrdinge. Awndyn manor is in the enviable position of being able to use its Trisian trade profits to pay scutage rather than raise fyrd. Lowespass and Summerday are the only two manors where the Castle can appoint a governor, and both have been given to the Queen’s lance captains. Their garrisons have been increased because the threat still remains-’

‘Kestrel-’ I said.

‘-But you are proposing to advance into the Paperlands again. What did we gain last time? Nothing! The Wall is still in the same place. Many people think it should be left alone. Don’t mess with it. Is your campaign military necessity, or are you rushing ahead too fast?’