CHAPTER 8
When the rain came down, Whimbrel was unable to see the stars. Instead, he spent the evening in the observatory studying his charts. He’d been in the library all afternoon reading about astronomy and at last he appeared to be making some progress. I watched as he worked with ruler and compasses, making calculations and writing the results on his notepad. Eventually, though, he decided he’d learned enough for one day.
‘I meant to tell you,’ he said. ‘Sanderling has heard a rumour.’
‘Not another bevy of dancing girls?’
‘No, no,’ said Whimbrel, ‘nothing like that. Apparently a troupe of strolling players arrived at the imperial gates yesterday morning and asked to be allowed into the royal quarter.’
‘Why did they have to ask?’ I said. ‘Those gates are purely ceremonial. They’re never closed.’
‘Well, you know what actors are like,’ said Whimbrel, ‘always trying to seek attention.’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’
‘Sanderling says they’ve taken lodgings at the Maypole.’
‘How did they manage that?’ I demanded. ‘We couldn’t even get served a glass of beer.’
‘Perhaps they’re singing for their supper,’ suggested Whimbrel. ‘They can’t have any money: they come from outside the empire.’
‘Do they indeed?’
‘According to the rumour, they’ve been travelling for weeks.’
‘So they must have been caught in all that rain last night?’
‘Probably, yes,’ said Whimbrel.
This was a most unusual turn of events. Strangers from abroad rarely visited the heart of the empire, and I wondered what sort of life they lived. Then again, a rumour was only a rumour. I’d believe it when I saw these ‘strolling players’ for myself, and not a moment sooner.
‘I’ve got some news too,’ I said. ‘Brambling maintains that we don’t get another sixpence until we’ve spent the last one.’
‘Really?’ said Whimbrel.
‘He’s trawled all through his ledger and found the appropriate entry.’
‘Well, my sixpence remains stubbornly unspent.’
‘Mine too,’ I said. ‘In fact, I mentioned it to Brambling.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He told me we were lucky to get sixpence when the postmen only earn a penny a day.’
‘That doesn’t make sense.’
‘No,’ I agreed, ‘I don’t think Brambling knows very much about money.’
‘Well, he is Chancellor of the Exchequer,’ said Whimbrel. ‘He’s obviously perfect for the job.’
‘Quite.’
For some reason I took my stipendiary sixpence from my pocket and began examining it closely. On one side was the head of a long-forgotten emperor; on the other was the image of a ship under full sail.
‘Surprising, isn’t it?’ Whimbrel remarked. ‘There seems to be hardly any coinage in circulation. I haven’t laid eyes on a penny for weeks, let alone shillings or half-crowns; all I’ve seen are a few sixpences.’
‘I suppose it could be argued,’ I said, ‘that a feudal society requires very little cash to keep going. Maybe a handful of coins are needed here and there, just to lubricate the wheels, but beyond that it probably suits the empire to keep everyone a bit “short”; to keep them down, as it were, so that nobody tries to get above themselves.’
Whimbrel stared at me in silence.
‘What?’ I asked.
‘I really think you should be careful when you criticise the empire,’ he replied. ‘It may only be a casual observation but you never know who could be listening.’
‘Don’t tell me you believe all that nonsense about treason?’
‘Well, you heard what Wryneck said.’
‘Take no notice of Wryneck!’ I snapped. ‘He only raised the matter because he’s got nothing better to do!’
‘Yes,’ conceded Whimbrel, ‘he does appear to have rather a lot of spare time on his hands.’
‘Besides,’ I added, ‘this is a thoroughly benign empire. It’s all jumbled and disorganised; we have a vast hierarchy with serfs at the bottom and the emperor at the top, but in between there exists a pecking order that’s vague and unfathomable to say the least; shopkeepers, publicans and postmen happily inconvenience officers-of-state whenever it takes their fancy; we have no police force; no army or navy; no tax collectors; and, finally, the emperor doesn’t even bother to turn up for cabinet meetings.’
‘Hmm, I see what you mean,’ said Whimbrel. ‘Treason would be pointless.’
‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘There’s no tyranny to overthrow.’