‘Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.’

‘Remind us of our response, General.’

‘You agreed with him, praised him for his philosophy and then had him put to death, Your Majesty,’ replied General Maxin levelly.

‘We praise you for your memory, General, so pray continue.’

‘An alternative disposition of your sister has been suggested to me, Your Imperial Majesty,’ Maxin said, picking his way carefully. ‘She cannot be married, obviously, and she is not fit for office, so perhaps she should find some peace of mind in some secular body. Some philosophical order, Majesty, with no political aspirations.’

Alvdan closed his eyes, trying to picture his sister in the robes of the Mercy’s Daughters or some such pack of hags. ‘Your suggestion is noted, General, and we will consider it,’ was all he would say, but it appealed to his sense of humour. Yes, a nice peaceful life of contemplation. How better to drive his little sister out of her mind?

When he was done, and his advisers had no more advice to give, the servants repeated their rigmarole, but this time in reverse. Once he had stood up, his advisers began to sidle out of the room, leaving only General Maxin, who seemed to be taking an unaccountably long time to adjust his swordbelt.

‘General, we sense by your subtlety that you wish to speak to us.’

‘Some small diversion, Your Imperial Majesty, if you wish it.’

‘The Rekef are becoming entertainers now, are they, General?’

‘There is a man, Majesty, who has fallen into the hands of my agents. He is a most remarkable and unusual man and I thought that Your Majesty might welcome the chance to meet this individual. He is a slave, of course, and worse than just a slave, not fit to serve any useful purpose. In private he is full of strange words, though. Your Imperial Majesty’s education might never have another chance such as this.’