He then looked down – at the lawyers, at the prisoner himself, and then straight at Benzamir.

Benzamir shivered uncontrollably, and Said stood a little closer.

The emperor turned his head away, and an attendant darted forward to arrange the royal cloak before His Imperial Highness sat down.

With a flick of his fly-whisk, he indicated that the proceedings could start. The nobility sat with a sigh, and after a moment one of the lawyers stepped out from behind his desk. He bowed deeply to the occupant of the throne, and gave an outline of the case in his low, sonorous voice.

Benzamir was astounded by the adjectival onslaught: treacherous, perfidious, nauseating, pernicious, heinous. Akisi’s accusers painted him as a man who had suckled on the teat of the empire in his cradle, then grown up to hate everything it stood for. There were no cool, impartial justice programmes to weigh the evidence and pronounce fair judgement; compassion protocols working for both defendant and victim, unmoved by poverty or privilege. The empire’s court was turning into a furnace of conflict and adversarial debate. The emperor himself was presiding, and the stakes were clearly high. The lawyer dramatically shielded himself from Akisi with trembling fingers, as if frightened he might catch some criminal contagion.

‘There can be no penalty less than death itself for such actions!’ he demanded.

The crowd sighed and moaned. One or two cried out obscure curses on the accused’s head.

He was a hard act to follow. Akisi’s lawyer stood up to hissing and groaning. He began to explain why the former minister had acted so improperly.

Benzamir touched Said on the arm. ‘I’ve just seen someone I need to talk to.’

‘Can’t it wait, master?’

‘I wish it could. But no.’

He tried to make himself as small as possible and slipped from his seat, crossing the rest of the row to the side. The soldiers noticed his apologetic walk with interest, but everyone else had their attention fixed on the drama at the foot of the dais.

He passed Wahir and Alessandra with a troubled smile. They watched him go to the back of the seated area and crouch down next to the furthermost chair on the very last row.

‘Hello again, Princess.’

She kept her eyes firmly fixed on Akisi. ‘You didn’t give me reason enough not to be here.’

‘Which is to my shame. I should have tried harder.’

‘We need to say our piece. Here is as good as anywhere, if not the best place.’

Benzamir looked across Elenya to the bullet-headed monk. His head was freshly shaved and revealed yet more scars to go with the ones on his face and hands.

‘Brother,’ acknowledged Benzamir, and Va nodded curtly back. Puzzled, he asked Elenya something, and Benzamir caught a hint of their language.

Elenya answered in the same language, and he learned more.

‘Who did you tell him I was?’

‘Someone masquerading as a prince of his people. I told him I didn’t know why you were doing it. Which is the truth.’

‘Does he understand any of this?’

‘No. Neither do I. What about you?’

‘I don’t claim to be able to speak Swahili like a native, but well enough.’

Elenya finally looked at him. ‘Will you do something for me?’

He took several deep breaths. ‘Whenever I make promises to beautiful princesses, it usually ends in disaster. But it doesn’t normally stop me.’

She blinked slowly and seemed to have difficulty composing her thoughts. ‘Tell me when’s the best time to ask for the books back,’ she said eventually.

‘Never is the best time.’

‘You promised.’

‘I did, didn’t I? See Wahir over there? Keep an eye on him.’

She glanced to where he was surreptitiously pointing, and Wahir grinned at them over the top of Alessandra’s head.

‘I need to go back to my place, Princess,’ said Benzamir. ‘Try not to think too badly of me.’

‘Why would I do that? Have you done something to be ashamed of?’

Benzamir stared down at his hands. ‘Oh yes. I’m as guilty of using you as everybody else is.’ He looked straight at her, right into her eyes. ‘All I can say in my defence is that I really do mean it for the best.’

She sat back and put her hand to her neck. Va felt the movement, saw Elenya’s reaction to a stranger’s advance and purposefully ignored them.

Benzamir gave a little bow and crept his way back to his seat. Akisi’s lawyer was still hard at it, working the stage, using open-handed gestures and submissive body language. His voice rose to a shout, then fell to a whisper, compelling listeners to concentrate on his every word.

‘He’s very good,’ said Benzamir, ‘even though he’s fighting a lost cause.’

‘How can you tell?’ asked Said.

‘You don’t steal from the emperor and get away with it on a technicality. What sort of signal would that send out?’ From where they sat Benzamir could almost see behind the curtains. There was a shadow there, deeper than black, that drifted in and out of view as the curtain waved in time with the swinging fan.

An electrical tingle tickled Benzamir’s brain. He turned his head slowly, closing his eyes, feeling for the direction of the sensation. When he was certain that it came from the same place each time, he opened his eyes. Some of his bugs were still working.

There was not one, but three dark figures together, perfectly still, eyes shining softly within the folds of their hoods. He could hear the proceedings of the court, faint and distorted, the static hiss caused by the movement of air.

Benzamir ignored the words and just looked at the picture in front of him. The emperor was on his throne; in the front ranks on the other side of his personal bodyguard were all his ministers and underministers, his generals and ambassadors of his vassal states, the merchant princes and lords of industry. Everybody who could found and run an empire was in just one room.

The fringes of electronic chatter, narrowcast, encrypted, bounced off metal and stone, and ended up in Benzamir’s head.

‘Said, I want you to go and tell Wahir to wave at the Princess.’

‘Which princess is this?’

‘Just do it for me. Wahir will know what to do next. God go with you, my friend.’ He gripped Said’s shoulder.

‘Master? What are you doing?’ Said tried to find some reason around him that would account for the strange behaviour.

‘Go. Now. Or we’re going to stand no chance at all.’

Grumbling, Said heaved his large frame out of his chair, blocking each person’s view as he went. They swore floridly at him and, oblivious to their meaning, Said carried on, nodding and smiling all the while.

One of the guards in front of Benzamir looked suspiciously at the big man’s back, then glanced up to the roof. He seemed to signal something with a twitch of his brows.

Benzamir followed his gaze. Up high in the architecture, hidden by the blinding daylight, there were spotters, archers and other weaponeers, all making sure that this show-trial went entirely according to plan. Suppressing a nervous smile, he took several deep breaths and tried to clear his mind of everything. The radio noise was growing. He felt a microwave pulse briefly map his body before it moved on. He knew what it meant.

Wahir waved just as the lawyer sat down and mopped his brow. The first prosecutor had hardly got back to his feet when Elenya’s clear voice rang out.

‘Your most exalted Imperial Highness, please hear my petition. You say Solomon Akisi stole your property. I say it was already stolen from the monastery of Saint Samuil in far-off Arkady.’

The instant she began to speak, all eyes turned to her. Court officials reacted to the bold woman in their midst as if stung. Akisi looked around, bewildered, his chains scraping against the floor.

‘Forty good men were killed by the thieves; forty men of God who offered no resistance but prayer to the swords and the fire that was brought against them. The books belong to the patriarch of Mother Russia, and I have come to take them home.’