Herbie Brennan - The Purple Emperor

'Comma knows,' Blue said.

They called a Conference of Friends. Pyrgus didn't want to, but Blue insisted. Mr Fogarty was there. Madame Cardui was there. Henry was there. Pyrgus wanted Nymphalis there too, but Blue vetoed that promptly.

'We don't know her well enough,' she said. 'Besides, she owes her loyalties to the forest, not to House Iris. I'm sure she's wonderful, but this is too delicate to take the slightest risk.'

When they were all in the Orchid Room and the door securely locked and spelled, Blue outlined the problem, holding nothing back. They listened attentively, sober-faced, saying little, nodding occasionally. When she'd finished, Blue said, 'I'd like to know what you think.'

No one spoke until, eventually, Henry said, 'But Hairstreak already knows what you did, Pyrgus -wouldn't Gnoma have told him?'

'Yes. Yes, he did,' Pyrgus said. 'Gnoma definitely told him. But Hairstreak can't admit to that, otherwise everyone will know he was lying about Father never having died and the new agreement and everything.'

Mr Fogarty glanced across at Pyrgus. 'It would nearly be worth owning up to everything. To drop Hairstreak in it.'

Pyrgus started to say something, but Blue cut in quickly. 'There's no question of Pyrgus owning up.'

'Why not?'

'I told you – resurrection is forbidden.'

'So what are they going to do to him?' Fogarty asked impatiently. 'Have him say five Hail Marys?'

'Hang him,' Blue said starkly.

There was a long moment's silence in the room. Then Fogarty said, 'Are you serious?'

'That's the penalty.'

'Even for an Emperor Elect?'

'Only the Emperor is above the law – a properly crowned Emperor. The Emperor Elect can be tried like anybody else.'

Mr Fogarty sniffed. 'Should have waited, shouldn't you?' he said to Pyrgus. He turned back to Blue. 'But would it actually happen – a trial? Who would bring the charges?'

'The priesthood,' Blue told him. 'It's a spiritual issue.'

Henry said, 'What happens if it gets out that Pyrgus, you know, cut his – ah, killed -'

'A resurrected body is an abomination,' Blue said. 'There's no penalty for sending the soul back to its proper home.'

'Except your father's body isn't supposed to have been resurrected,' Henry said gently. 'Hairstreak's story is that the Emperor never died and you've decided to support that, haven't you? If you don't, then Pyrgus will be hung for resurrecting him.'

Blue and Pyrgus looked at one another.

Madame Cardui said, 'He's right, Crown Prince, deeah. But if we stick to Hairstreak's story and Comma tells what he saw, you could be facing a charge of murder in place of a charge of resurrection. I'm afraid that's hanging again.'

'Simple answer,' Fogarty said. 'We bung Comma in solitary until you're made Emperor.'

Madame Cardui raised an eyebrow. 'A little rough on the boy, wouldn't you say, Alan?'

Fogarty shrugged. 'Could have Pyrgus crowned in a week. A week's not too rough in solitary: I've done it my-' He stopped himself and coughed, then added lamely, 'Solves the problem, doesn't it? They're not going to hang their Emperor for murder.'

'Ah,' Blue said.

'Why are you saying Ah?' Mr Fogarty asked sourly. 'What's Ah?'

Blue looked strained. 'When I said the Emperor is above the law, there's one exception…'

'Murder?'

'Not exactly,' Pyrgus said. 'Just murdering the previous Emperor.'

'That's right,' Blue confirmed. 'Realm Law holds that the Purple Emperor owns his subjects and thus can dispose of them as he wills – he can execute someone, which is just another name for murder, or have somebody carry out a murder, or pardon somebody who's committed murder. But the one exception to all of that is the previous Emperor, who is not defined as a – I forget the term, but it means he's not defined as being owned.'

'You can see why,' said Madame Cardui cheerfully. 'It stops the royal family murdering their way to the throne.' She hesitated, smiled, then leaned forward to say quietly to Blue, 'The word is chattel, deeah.'

Fogarty said, 'So if Comma talks, Pyrgus hangs -threats may keep him quiet for a while, but if we don't sort out something permanent, we all know Comma will talk, sooner or later.'

'I'm not having you kill him,' Blue said sternly. 'He may be a pain in the neck, but he's still our baby brother.'

Fogarty looked at her in mild surprise. 'Actually, I was thinking more of bribery. Offer him something he wants – few toys, money, a fancy title, seat on the Government… whatever it takes, just so long as he has no real power. Make sure he knows it all disappears if Pyrgus isn't Emperor.'

'Trouble is Pyrgus doesn't want to be Emperor,' Blue remarked quietly.

'I think I may have an idea about that,' said Henry.

After he'd told them, Henry looked from one face to the other, waiting for a reaction.

Pyrgus shook his head. 'It's not possible, Henry.' His expression might have been one of regret.

'It's not legal,' Blue echoed.

'Actually it is,' said Madame Cardui. 'The legislation has been in place for a very long time, although you seldom hear about it.' She smiled a little. 'The real problem, Henry, is that it couldn't possibly work.'

'It works in my world,' Henry said. 'All the time.'

'Is that true, Alan?' Madame Cardui asked.

Mr Fogarty shrugged. 'I'm not sure works isn't a bit of an exaggeration.'

Henry looked at him in disgust.

The State Barge pulled away from Palace Island with the pink light of dawn glinting on the golden filaments that were strewn across its surface. The initial movement was matched by the first rumblings of a 101-impact thunder spell salute, the traditional signal to the population of an impending Coronation. It seemed, however, that the population had little need of it: crowds had already begun to line the processional route by midnight.

The barge turned north-west at once to avoid interfering with traffic across the Official Ford (which had been particularly heavy for days) and hugged the northern bank of the Wirmark below East gate. At the first cheer of the dockland crowds, wizards on the barge combined their efforts to float up two gigantic illusions, one depicting the Peacock Crown, the other the butterfly emblem of House Iris.

As the illusions flowered, the cheering increased and the spectators were rewarded with an interactive display – the illusions changed colour in response to the pitch and volume of the cheers. Even at this early stage, the people were calling for sight of their new sovereign, but the only figures on deck were barge crew in their neat purple uniforms and the wizards who maintained the spells.

Once clear of the island, the barge began a ponderous, slow zigzag course that ensured no riverside segment of the city was favoured above any other. First south to Merkinstal, a suburb so underdeveloped that it still showed farmland right up to the river's edge. Yet even here the people had turned out in droves to watch the pageantry. Poor but loyal, Pyrgus thought fondly as he watched them through a darkly-tinted porthole. The predominant cloth here was the dun-coloured homespun of the countryfolk. Further in, the silks and satins of the more sophisticated inner-city dwellers would begin to appear.

The state barge turned south-west so that it would enter the central river channel before it reached Lohman Bridge.

Henry was having problems with his britches.

He was no longer Male Companion – his idea about what should happen at the Coronation meant the position was no longer relevant – but he was still Iron Prominent, Knight Commander of the Grey Dagger, and that meant he had to dress up. The blouse and jacket had been bad enough – they were spell-woven to flash a different colour with every change of light – but the cloth-of-gold britches were sheer murder.