Whoever it was who had been responsible for naming the large room at the centre of the palace the Great Hall could not be accused of misleading the public. In truth they would not have been going too far if they had chosen to call it The Bloody Amazing or The Frankly Quite Spectacular Hall. It was reached via a long flight of brightly coloured steps which led up to a pair of huge, ornately-carved wooden doors. Upon our approach these doors were automatically opened by some invisible force but our way inside was barred by the crossed spears of two especially sturdy-looking members of the Palace Guard. We were left to wait on the threshold whilst news of our arrival was carried forwards by a short steward in flowing robes and matching flowing moustache. Continue reading
“Sneaky bugger!” I muttered for what must have been about the tenth time.
We had now finished our dinner and Michael and I sat side by side in the middle of our cell gazing at the jar containing the Emperor’s last dream as it lay on the ground before us. Continue reading
After the appearance of Jules and El Maestro the steady stream of people passing to and fro before our cell gradually slowed to a trickle. Either the seers were running out of suspects or the number of prisoners was now so large that newcomers had had to be diverted elsewhere. Before long the only person who remained to be seen was the square-jawed, broad-shouldered guard who marched by every fifteen minutes or so on his regular circuit, patrolling this section of the dungeon. Continue reading
When I woke again bright sunshine was flooding into the room in narrow shafts through the slats in the window shutters and I finally felt refreshed and alert. It was undoubtedly a shame about missing the lantern show but I had to conclude that ultimately a good night’s sleep had been more important. Now all that was required was a hearty breakfast and I felt I could approach the trek back across the mountains with something perilously close to enthusiasm. Continue reading
When I woke up it took me a couple of minutes of gazing around the thick dark shadows of the room to realise where I was. It then took another minute or two before I realised that the thick dark shadows indicated that sunset had long since come and gone and with it the much-anticipated lantern show. After a brief wave of regret I was still tired enough to shrug philosophically and roll over back to sleep. But then the consequences of the couple of glasses of rice wine I’d had with lunch made themselves felt and I realised there would be no more sleep until I’d answered the call of nature. So I reluctantly hauled myself up off my mattress and, leaving Michael snoring gently on his side of the room, headed off in search of the bathroom. Continue reading
We passed through the Western Gate of Khotya at around half past twelve, part of a great press of pilgrims swarming eagerly into the city. Less than three hours later we had located the hidden door and another room of Sturridge’s prison had been successfully knocked off the list. Continue reading
Once the narrow pass had cut its way through the last of the snow-capped peaks and began to wind down the steep rocky slopes towards a grassy plain, our reward for three days of mountainous slog was a truly spectacular view of our destination, the imperial capital of Khotya. The city sat on a bend in the river, nestled securely within imposing stone walls that were liberally sprinkled with forbidding watchtowers. Down by the river wharves the buildings jostled for space but the streets seemed to breathe out as they moved away from the water, allowing the houses and gardens further up to sprawl elegantly. In the west the ground rose sharply towards the citadel of the Emperor himself, a walled palace complex that appeared to form pretty much a city within a city. Continue reading
At this stage I feel obliged to point out that I have been to a number of dodgy parties in my time. I’ve been to office parties where the booze ran too freely and student parties where the booze ran out too soon. I’ve been to house-warming parties that wrecked the house and garage parties that wrecked the whole street. In addition it’s worth noting that the Everingham family has a particularly long and honourable tradition of awkward family gatherings, a notable lowlight of which was my cousin, Leanne’s 30th birthday party which just happened to take place during the death throes of a ten year relationship with her fella, Steve. I won’t go into all the gory details but suffice to say that what started out as merely an uncomfortable evening of awkward conversation and forced jollity descended rapidly into a bitter vortex of violent recrimination which not only killed off any chance of an amicable separation between the once happy couple but also did for Leanne’s prized Renault Clio, my Uncle Greg’s two front teeth and the relationships of at least four innocent bystanders by way of collateral damage. Continue reading
