Apatura allowed his consciousness to withdraw from the globe again and opened his eyes. The Teetion Valley marked the unofficial border between the Night Realm and the rolling farmlands of Lilk tended by the Faeries of the Light. He looked at Tithonus. 'It's almost like a threatened invasion by a foreign country,' he said.
'In many ways a foreign invasion would be easier to handle,' Tithonus told him. 'Civil wars are notoriously difficult. And bloodthirsty.'
'You think it will come to that? Civil war?'
'I pray not, Majesty,' Tithonus said. But his tone of voice suggested he had little confidence his prayers would be answered.
The crystal globes switched back to the rally and the powerful voice of Hamearis Lucina filled the chamber: ' – would say to the Purple Emperor that the old ways no longer serve us, that no longer will the Faeries of the Night be treated as second-grade citizens within the Realm, that no longer – '
Tithonus waved the sound down, but something caught Apatura's attention and he waved it up again. ' – shall not wait beyond two weeks,' Hamearis was saying, 'and less than that if our Emperor does not see fit to right the wrongs set forth in – ' His final words were drowned out by thunderous applause and cheering from the crowd.
'Did that sound to you as it sounded to me?' asked Apatura as he silenced the globes completely.
'An ultimatum?' Tithonus frowned.
'Yes,' Apatura murmured. 'Please arrange to have a full draft of Lucina's speech delivered to my chambers as soon as possible This is something I shall want to study.' He walked to the operations table and hummed the note rather than waiting for a specialist to do it for him. At once the landscape flowed into a representation of Yammeth Cretch and the surrounding Light Faerie territories. Apatura turned to his nearest general. 'Put up our forces, if you will, Creerful.'
'Yes, Majesty,' Creerful nodded. He stretched to touch a button on the side of the table and patches of bronze appeared on the map surrounding Yammeth Cretch. Some fine adjustments changed their texture and tone to represent familiar strengths.
Apatura stared at the display for a long time. He was trying to remember something, but could not say exactly what. Then, suddenly, it came to him.
'There's something missing,' he said aloud.
'I'm sorry, Majesty?'
Apatura ignored Tithonus and signalled the three generals to move closer. 'Look at those patterns,' he said, gesturing towards the table display. 'What do they tell you?'
General Vanelke, always the first with an opinion, leaned forward frowning. 'That our defences are well placed,' he said. 'We have them contained.' He glanced at his colleagues as if daring them to contradict him.
'I see nothing missing, Majesty,' Creerful added. On his right, General Ovard nodded.
'Stop thinking of our forces,' Apatura said. 'Put yourself in the place of the – ' he almost said 'enemy' but caught the diplomatic gaffe in time ' – of our Nightside citizens. Assume for a moment that really was an ultimatum we just heard from Hamearis Lucina. An ultimatum is useless – even counterproductive – unless you are prepared to back it up. So far, all the indications have been that House Hairstreak plans to back it up by force of arms. Now ask yourself, gentlemen, if you were commanding Hairstreak's forces and not those of your Emperor… would you be happy with the disposition of your troops in Yammeth Cretch?'
There was a long moment's silence, then General Ovard said, 'By God, Majesty – no I would not!'
'You would not, Ovard,' the Emperor echoed. 'Nor would you, Creerfuclass="underline" nor would you, Vanelke. The numbers are wrong. I thought as much when I was using the vision-globe, but I had no immediate comparison then. They have deployed too many men for defence, but not quite enough for attack! Make the calculations for yourself, gentlemen. The posture is not defensive – we are all agreed on that. Their front lines seem to be in place for an attack and they could certainly mount a few successful sorties – hit and run tactics, modified guerrilla warfare, that sort of thing. But they could never back up the sort of ultimatum I believe Hairstreak has just delivered through his monkey Hamearis Lucina.'
'You think they are bluffing, Majesty?' Tithonus asked quietly.
'I think there is a missing element,' Apatura said. 'Can they have concealed troops we have not yet discovered?'
'Impossible!' Vanelke exclaimed.
Ovard said, 'Our intelligence is excellent, Your Majesty. Besides, as you saw, they are making little effort to hide anything.'
'Indeed,' said Apatura, 'they appear to be making very little effort at concealment. Which is, of course, part of their political strategy. What I want to know is whether or not it is possible they have actually concealed quantities of troops and munitions of which we are completely unaware.'
Before the military men could speak, Tithonus put in, 'It is possible, but extremely unlikely. Bear in mind, Majesty, that we have been watching them long before the current crisis.'
'Can they count on military aid from any source beyond the Nightside?'
'Difficult to imagine where,' Tithonus said.
Which was precisely Apatura's problem. Hairstreak's military deployment simply did not match his political strategy. There was a missing component of his attack force. If he had not hidden it – and like his generals and his Gatekeeper the Emperor doubted that – it was difficult to imagine where he might get it from. Yet Hairstreak was no fool and his military advisers were at least the match of the Emperor's own. So what was Hairstreak up to? Where was the missing component?
The Emperor was still trying to puzzle it out when the message arrived from his Chief Portal Engineer.
Apatura and Tithonus arrived in the chapel at a less than dignified run. The first thing Apatura noticed was that the portal was in place again. Beside it, the Chief Portal Engineer was making some final adjustments with a flexible spine-wrench. His hands and face were black with oil, but it did nothing to hide his smug expression.
'You've done it?' Apatura asked, grinning despite himself.
'Yes, Your Majesty.'
'You know where this damn thing sent my son?'
'Yes, Your Majesty. He reached the Analogue World all right, but not the island we targeted.'
'And the portal's working properly again?'
'Yes, Your Majesty.'
Apatura's grin faded to a sober expression. 'Right, Tithonus, let's put a party together to find out what has happened to Pyrgus.' He turned to look at the portal, already beginning to glow slightly as it entered its initial warm-up cycle. 'We leave in fifteen minutes!'
Eighteen
'Where have you been?' Henry's mother asked crossly. She was buttering bread for sandwiches on the kitchen table. Their old picnic basket was open on the worktop behind her, already well packed with fruit, soft drinks and what looked suspiciously like her ghastly vegetarian Scotch eggs.
'We were getting worried,' said his father, a lot more mildly. He'd abandoned his usual business suit for his weekend uniform of slacks and sports shirt, rounded off with pristine golf shoes. He was also wearing one of his more familiar expressions, the one that told Henry he was feeling miserable, but putting on a cheerful front. Henry suspected his father was looking forward to the family picnic about as much as he was.
'I went for a walk,' Henry said. It was a lie, but it was equally the truth, which made him feel a bit better. It was also simple, which meant you were far less likely to be found out. At least he'd got Pyrgus and the stuff safely back to Mr Fogarty.
'You knew we were going for a picnic,' his mother said. 'It's so late now it's hardly worth the trouble.'
'You aren't even ready yet,' Henry said, perhaps unwisely.