‘It’s a close-run thing in this case. His excesses have come near to draining the coffers. Perhaps it’s time to rethink the whole issue of titular rulers of our colonies.’

‘It is worth considering that peoples taken into the empire’s embrace, ma’am, are generally more manageable if their own leaders remain in office. They tend to respect the monarchs they know.’

‘What respect can the rabble have for a madman?’

Talgorian was mindful that hereditary rulers could be touchy about suggestions of insanity, despite what they might say.

‘Mad, Excellency? That is perhaps a

little

harsh.’

Prince Melyobar had spent the morning chatting with his dead father.

Not that he was dead as far as the Prince was concerned, albeit the many experts who had been consulted remained undecided on the matter.

Melyobar’s discussion with his technically late parent, King Narbetton, had proved very beneficial. He now knew what further elements were needed to ensure the success of his plan. A plan that would result in the exposure and inevitable death of Death.

At the moment, the Prince was nervous. A case could be made for him being in a constant state of nervousness, but under the present circumstances he was even more jumpy than usual. He always was when forced to bring his moving court to a standstill, however briefly. And the pausing of Melyobar’s travelling abode was such a rare event that once word got out, people came from far and wide just to watch. This added to the Prince’s trepidation, and ever more elaborate defences had been put in place to protect him from his ultimate enemy. For who was to say that the reaper wouldn’t use the commotion to slip through unnoticed?

The royal palace was stationary, but continued to float despite its immensity, hovering at roughly the height of a farmhouse roof. In order to help guarantee the Prince’s safety, he had ordered all the other magically impelled castles and villas of his courtiers to continually orbit the palace. The result was a gigantic merry-go-round, covering many acres of verdant countryside. An arrangement which, if viewed from the air, looked like a queen bee circled by anxious drones.

Beyond the circling mansions and chateaux a vast temporary encampment had sprung up, girdling the whole affair. Here the thousands of court followers had billeted themselves, resembling an army preparing for battle. An instant town of tents and lean-tos, herds of horses and idle wagons. For many of its occupants, being still was an uncommon experience. For some, born on the move, it was completely novel.

At the motionless palace itself, a walkway had been erected, running from its lower levels down to the ground. Its elevation was gentle, and it was wide enough to allow two wagons to travel abreast. The function of the gangplank was to take on cargo. Normally, provisions of all kinds were loaded in transit, and many elaborate contrivances and procedures had been devised to achieve this. But occasionally the unusual nature of certain cargoes defeated the cunning of the Prince’s engineers.

Melyobar sat on a throne placed at the top of the walkway, looking over everything being brought aboard. He had an aide at his side and a bevy of minions dancing attendance. As the cargo was led, steered, carried and dragged past him, and identified by the aide if required, the Prince indicated acceptance or refusal. All the items, without exception, were in pairs.

Two thoroughbred horses were nodded through, followed by a couple each of donkeys and oxen. A bull and a cow were herded past, along with sheep, goats, pigs and boars.

‘Let’s take all useful beasts as read, shall we?’ the Prince decreed.

‘Very good, your Majesty,’ the aide confirmed, scribbling a note.

All variant breeds of horses, sheep, goats and the like were consequently hurried by. But Melyobar’s definition of a useful animal was by no means consistent.

‘Are all dogs to be considered acceptable, Majesty?’ the aide wondered, as a yapping, barking horde approached.

‘Yes.

No.

I don’t like those.’ He pointed to pairs of bulldogs and pugs, which were promptly hived-off. ‘Ugly brutes.’

Cats he said yes to, as he was fond of them. But he saw no benefit in accepting mice or rats. Frogs, too, were vetoed.

He had no doubt that those who served him burned with curiosity about the menagerie he was gathering. But of course none dared question him on it. Besides, it was none of their business.

‘What’s that?’ the Prince demanded of a soldier carrying a straw-lined box. The man showed it to him. Two tortoises dozed inside. ‘I’m not sure these things serve much purpose,’ Melyobar remarked.

The soldier looked to the aide. ‘That’s a no,’ the aide mouthed at him. The tortoises were taken to the reject line.

A stag and a deer went past. Then a variety of fowl were shown. Melyobar was keen on the eagles and hawks, and a diversity of songbirds were admitted. A cockerel and a hen were let in, naturally, but the Prince dithered over the owls. Eventually he nodded, but was firm about partridges, which he thought ungainly. Swans and geese went through. There was some doubt about ducks, until he was reminded that they provided eggs, as did quail. Pigeons and doves passed the test.

A batch of exotics from far-flung lands appeared, causing no little excitement. Two tigers, well manacled and with three handlers apiece, were paraded.

‘Excellent for sport,’ Melyobar declared.

He was no less enthusiastic about a lion and lioness. When a pair of crocodiles slithered into view, however, he was less eager. ‘Can’t see how you could do much more than club them to death. Not much sport in that.’

‘Quite so, Majesty.’ The aide waved the crocodiles aside, and wrote himself a memo concerning alligators.

The coming of the elephants was an awesome sight. Their

legs were shackled in robust iron, and each had a skilled rider on its neck. None of that mitigated their sheer size, and the Prince cricked his neck staring up at them.

‘Extraordinary,’ he allowed. ‘But have they a use?’

‘Indeed, sire. As beasts of burden they’re unsurpassed. And it is said their appearance on a field of battle has a most salutary effect.’

He was convinced.

The camels made him laugh, and they were admitted on that basis. He was baffled by a couple of giant, slow-moving lizards, green-scaled, with flicking tongues.

‘If I wanted grotesques,’ he decided, ‘I could have glamours conjured.’

The lizards were taken way.

Snakes he likewise forsook, but was persuaded to relent in the case of several species whose venom, his head apothecary explained, had healing properties.

He kept the monkeys, which he found amusing, and likewise two saucy parrots. Insects he universally refused, seeing this as an opportunity to be rid of them. Though he did hesitate when a pair of exquisitely marked butterflies were produced. They fluttered in a charm-warmed glass container to preserve them from the autumn chill.

‘Such creatures are problematic, Majesty,’ his aide said.

‘They are?’

‘Insects require other insects on which to feed. I don’t believe it’s possible to be selective about them, Majesty.’

‘What about the birds? They eat insects, don’t they?’

‘Ah. You’re absolutely right, of course, sir; some do.’ He wrote himself yet another note. ‘I’ll look into that.’

‘Yes to rabbits,’ Melyobar announced as they were carted on in a wooden hutch. ‘But definitely no more than two, mind!’

Moles he thought useless for all but irksome tunnelling. But badgers were let aboard, as were the brown bears. Baiting

was one of his favourite pastimes, and he had to think of future leisure.

Then they began toting barrels and tubs of fish to him. Most he agreed to, but he turned away those he didn’t like the look of. So pike, eels and catfish found no home. Crabs and lobsters he wanted because he relished their taste.