A Cruel Bird Came to the Nest and Looked - By Magnus Mills Page 0,2

to the emperor. All the same I can’t help speculating whether our roles aren’t merely ceremonial. I mean to say, exactly how seriously are we meant to take them?’

‘I’m not sure,’ he said. ‘I’ve received no guidance on the matter.’

‘Nor me.’

‘I understand it’s customary in the empire to grant positions of high office to people who know little about their subject; in my case the custom is being maintained to the letter.’

‘Same here,’ I said. ‘I’ve just been appointed Principal Composer to the Imperial Court, yet all I know about music theory is what I’ve taught myself from books.’

‘That’s better than nothing,’ said Whimbrel.

‘Only marginally,’ I replied.

He dwelt on this for a while, and then asked, ‘What do you make of the others?’

‘In the cabinet?’

‘Yes.’

‘They’re certainly a mixed bunch,’ I said. ‘The only one I’ve spoken to at any length so far is Garganey, and he seems to be very fastidious about his work. He’s already begun an investigation into the penny post to see if he can get it operating more efficiently.’

‘He’ll be lucky,’ said Whimbrel. ‘An inefficient postal system is another of those unwavering imperial customs. What always confounds me is how items of mail come to be lost in the post.’

‘Don’t ask me.’

‘How can a physical entity disappear inside an abstract entity?’

‘That remains one of the great imponderable questions.’

‘Precisely.’

‘To be fair, though, most lost items do turn up after a while. Oh, by the way, talking about items of mail, did you keep your card?’

‘Indeed I did!’ exclaimed Whimbrel. ‘In fact I must show you. Come on! Follow me!’

We abandoned the telescope and went back down into the observatory. He indicated a picture frame on the wall. Displayed inside was a card similar to the one I’d received two days ago. The wording was slightly different to mine. It read:

BY COMMAND OF

HIS EXALTED HIGHNESS

THE MAJESTIC EMPEROR OF THE REALMS, DOMINIONS, COLONIES AND COMMONWEALTH

OF

GREATER FALLOWFIELDS

YOU ARE SUMMONED FORTHWITH

TO THE

IMPERIAL COURT

WHERE YOU WILL ASSUME THE OFFICE OF

ASTRONOMER ROYAL.

The picture frame had been finished in gold, which perfectly matched the ornate lettering on the card.

‘Very smart,’ I said. ‘Maybe I should get mine framed as well.’

‘It makes you realise the responsibility bestowed on us,’ said Whimbrel. ‘We’re part of an elite cohort.’

‘Quite.’

‘A motley one, nevertheless,’ he continued. ‘Whoever would have guessed that the imperial cabinet included an astronomer? Or even a composer?’

‘Actually, I think it’s all rather neatly balanced,’ I said. ‘Not too much emphasis on any particular aspect of life.’

‘Good point.’

‘Furthermore, you’ll notice that there’s absolutely no kind of spiritual, theological or pastoral representative.’

‘Thank God,’ remarked Whimbrel.

Chapter 2

What I really wanted was to have the cake to myself. When I approached, however, I could hear music playing. This told me I would not be alone. I stopped and listened. They were rehearsing the imperial anthem again, just as they had been on the previous day. Casually, I wondered whether this was the only tune they knew; then I told myself not to be so churlish. Such an attitude would hardly help matters, especially at this early stage. Despite being their superior, I had to remember that I was utterly dependent on them, at least for the time being. Therefore, like any good commander, I should start by trying to learn from my subordinates. With these thoughts in mind I advanced once more towards my destination.

The cake was probably the most famous landmark in all of Fallowfields. People were known to journey from the provinces simply to gaze upon its exquisite proportions. What a sight it was! Situated amongst the trees at the edge of the royal park, it looked almost good enough to eat. The cake was a perfectly round building with smooth yellow walls rising to a creamy-white domed roof. A veritable essay in the imperial style, it was apparently at its most splendid when bathed in sunshine during long, languid, summer afternoons. Indeed, the walls were of such a rich hue that the more rustic visitors firmly believed they were made from marzipan.

The truth was hardly less exotic. Constructed in the days when the empire was at its zenith, the cake was built from a very rare kind of stone, quarried to specification in a faraway land and ferried home in ships. It took twenty-three years to carry out the work, from design to completion.

I paused at the door and listened. The music I could hear was even louder than before. The imperial anthem, having galloped at full pelt to the end of its glorious refrain, now