The Purple Emperor

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Executioner seemed in something of a hurry. He swept down the corridors of the Great Keep like a herald of doom, dragging Chalkhill behind him.

'Steady on,' gasped Chalkhill breathlessly. At this pace he'd be dead before the man could hang him.

The Governor was waiting for them at the main gates. 'Where exactly are you taking him?' he asked the Executioner.

'That's something you don't need to know,' the Executioner told him flatly. 'Let's just say it's somewhere nobody will see what I plan to do with him.'

'Excellent!' the Governor exclaimed. He gave a signal to the guards and the gates swung slowly open.

There was a black coach outside, drawn by four black horses. A hunchbacked coachman in a black cloak and black three-cornered hat gripped the reins with claw-like hands. To Chalkhill's surprise, there were no bars on the windows. The Executioner bundled him inside and, to Chalkhill's even greater surprise, climbed in beside him. The coach lurched off violently the moment the door closed.

Chalkhill watched through the window, wondering if he could safely jump. But the Executioner pushed the hood back to reveal a moon-shaped face that was curiously familiar. 'Harold Dingy,' he said, grinning. 'Lord Hairstreak sent me to get you out.'

Chalkhill stared at him in astonishment. He'd spied for Lord Hairstreak for years, but he knew the drill well enough – any spy who got caught was on his own. Black Hairstreak would deny his existence and let him rot. Which was exactly what he had done since Chalkhill was jailed. 'What about the execution papers?' he asked suspiciously.

'Forged, of course.' Dingy caught his expression and smiled. 'Don't worry – he's got a job for you.'

A job? That would explain it. Chalkhill found himself beginning to relax. 'I don't suppose you know what this job is?' he asked.

'Course I do,' said Harold Dingy, still grinning broadly. 'He wants you to stop young Pyrgus Malvae becoming Purple Emperor.'