A Cruel Bird Came to the Nest and Looked - By Magnus Mills Page 0,34

‘Did you know that if you gaze at it long enough the whole sky appears to revolve around it?’

The thought occurred to me that Whimbrel really ought to get out more, and I told him as much.

‘There’s nowhere to go, though, is there?’ he said.

‘Not usually, no,’ I conceded, ‘but tomorrow evening sees the first public showcase for my overture. Come along to the cake and have a listen.’

Recently I had redoubled my efforts to spend more time with Greylag and the orchestra. I’d sat in on a run-through and together we’d decided that no further improvements could be made to the work. Smew’s play was still nowhere near completion, so I’d decided to take Wryneck’s advice and present the overture as a ‘stand-alone’ composition.

‘Very well done, Greylag,’ I said, after the final rehearsal. ‘Now we’ll put it to the test of a proper audience.’

By a ‘proper audience’ I meant only the officers-of-state, of course, as it was pointless expecting the emperor to turn up. I spent the next morning going around to the various departments informing everybody about the forthcoming performance. Most people accepted the invitation willingly, but Dotterel demurred.

‘I just don’t have the time to spare,’ he said. ‘I’m striving perpetually to make sure all the clocks are correct.’

‘Don’t your artisans take care of that?’ I enquired.

‘They’re doing their best,’ said Dotterel, ‘but to tell the truth we’re only just managing to keep on top of it all.’

True enough, Dotterel looked worn out. His eyes were leaden and he seemed to be on the verge of nodding off as he worked through his checklist of clocks.

‘Between you and me,’ he said, ‘this latest demand of the emperor is simply absurd. It’s one thing for him to miss a few cabinet meetings; it’s quite another to turn the whole empire upside down just so that he can enjoy the sunset from his palace window.’

‘Do you think that’s the reason then?’

‘I can’t see any other explanation,’ said Dotterel, ‘unless His Majesty is deliberately trying to exhaust all his subjects.’

‘That’s hardly likely.’

‘To be frank,’ continued Dotterel, ‘there’s far too much power concentrated in one pair of hands and it can only lead to disaster. It reminds me of that legend about a king who believes the tide will turn at his mere command. His courtiers are doubtful, so he orders them to set his throne upon the seashore. Then, when the tide fails to turn, his weakness is exposed.’

‘No,’ I said, ‘you’re wrong there.’

‘What do you mean wrong?’ snapped Dotterel. ‘It’s a well-known legend!’

‘I’m fully aware of that,’ I said, ‘but it’s the courtiers who think the king can turn the tide, not the other way round. He shows them he can’t to demonstrate the limits of his power.’

‘Oh,’ said Dotterel, ‘I see.’

‘You can look it up in the library.’

‘I’d like to,’ he said, ‘but I don’t have the time.’

‘Talking of the library,’ I said, ‘you know you left Smew in charge of the ceremonial crown?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, when you found it you mentioned it was being smartened up for the coronation.’

‘That’s right,’ said Dotterel. ‘I hope Smew’s looking after it properly.’

‘It’s perfectly safe,’ I affirmed.

‘Good.’

‘Going back to this matter of the coronation, though. When’s it going to happen, exactly?’

‘As soon as the emperor’s ready, I suppose.’

‘So he’s never been crowned?’

‘Not as far as I know.’

Dotterel gave me a tired look, and I realised that he was beginning to wilt under all my questioning.

‘My apologies, Dotterel,’ I said, ‘I’ll leave you in peace now. So you definitely won’t be attending tonight?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ he said. ‘Sorry.’

My next port of call was the observatory. Whimbrel had already agreed to come to the performance, but I knew that he would need reminding again. The door was open so I made my way up the iron spiral, expecting to find him hard at work over his chart table. When I reached the top there was no sign of him, though, which meant he must be on the roof.

‘Is that you?’ he called down, when he heard me ascending the ladder.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘What are you up to?’

‘I’m using the telescope.’

‘Isn’t that a waste of sixpence?’

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s broad daylight!’ I said. ‘It’s ten o’clock in the morning!’

‘Come and see for yourself.’

I emerged through the tiny door and discovered Whimbrel pointing the telescope not at the sky, but due east. A loud clunk, however, told me that his time had just expired.

‘Blast,’ he said.

I looked to the east. Some miles away a plume of smoke was rising from