The Star Chamber

'You have failed!'

'The circumstances were extraordinary. Professor Belacqua could not reasonably have been expected to survive the storm.'

'But she did survive it, and now I have the blood of an innocent man on my hands. All for nothing.'

'Not for nothing. She will be tired and disoriented. She will not cut an impressive figure in Council.'

'She won't need to. Not if Alfred continues to make a fool of himself over her.'

'You noticed, then.'

'I couldn't miss it. Nobody could. He couldn't keep his eyes off her.'

'Strange. She is not exactly the most beautiful of women, is she? Especially when compared with some of the others whom we know the King has taken.'

'She's a scrawny little thing, I'd say.'

'If you had an opinion on the matter. Of course, as a celibate…'

'Enough! What are we going to do now?'

'We cannot prevent her from attending the Council meeting. Another gross physical attempt to stop her would be too obvious and would attract unwelcome attention. Instead we must ensure either that her views are not heard, or that they are disregarded.'

'Sideline her, you mean? How do you propose we do that?'

'We may not need to do anything. She is naive and inexperienced. She will make mistakes of argument or protocol. We must use those mistakes to make her appear ignorant and foolish.'

'Let her do our work for us, you mean.'

'Precisely.'

King Alfred sat at breakfast, studying the note which Alan had placed next to his kaffee cup. He frowned as he read it.

Professor Belacqua (the note read) has lived in Oxford, within the purlieu of Jordan College, for most of her life.

She is nominally the daughter of the Marquis Belacqua, who was killed, along with his wife, in an airship accident in her early childhood. It is known, however, that her father was in fact the Lord Asriel and her mother was a Mrs Coulter, who was a demi-courtesan during your father's reign.

She is believed to have been closely involved in the Millennial Events. Her movements around that time are not well documented and what was recorded then may have been lost since, as so much else was lost. She was then aged twelve or thirteen. Both of her parents disappeared during the Events and have not been seen thereafter.

The most significant fact, for the purposes of the Council, is that she acquired a working alethiometer during the Events and has spent her life since then in its study, gaining great expertise in its use and interpretation.

In addition there is the suggestion that she may have a family connection with someone at a high level in the Boreal Foundation.

'Bloody hell!'

'Alfred?'

'There's something going on here, Eleanor. This Professor Belacqua's an alethiometrist.'

'That'll be useful.'

'Thank you, daemon. I've worked that one out for myself. But there's something else. She's a bastard child of old Asriel's…'

'Your father's friend?'

'Yes. But she's also linked in some way with the Boreals. And – she's Jordan through and through. She's lived there all her life.'

'So you think she's somebody's stooge?'

'Yes, but I can't tell whose! Is she representing Jordan or the Foundation?'

'Or somebody else altogether?'

'Kir?'

'What is it, Will?'

'Yesterday. Around seven o'clock. When we thought…'

'When you thought…'

'That Lyra and Pan were trying to talk to us. You would tell me, wouldn't you, if they tried to make contact?'

'We made a promise to Judy and Skaven. We have to think of them now, John and Rosalind too.'

'And we're going to keep that promise. I know. But, all the same…'

'Will, I understand. Of course I do. But; as it was in the world of the mulefa, or with the Knife at Stonehenge, so it must be with Lyra now. We will keep our promise not to try to talk to Pan and Lyra, and only to respond to them if the need is urgent – a matter of life and death.'

'Life and death, you say. Lyra has talked with her Death before. I think he has been very close to her this last day or two.'

Professor Lyra Belacqua took a deep breath and stepped into the Star Chamber. All the men – and it looked as if she was the last to arrive, except for the King – rose to their feet. A footman guided her to a seat at the round table that stood in the centre of the room, dominating it. To her left sat the military man she had met at the reception the night before. He was wearing full naval uniform, his hat placed upside down on the table before him. 'Your Ladyship,' he said, turning to face her.

'Good morning, Lord Dellar.' The admiral's monkey-daemon nodded respectfully to Pantalaimon. Lyra turned to the right and saw that she was sitting next to the odd little Gyptian man who had spoken so little to her the night before.

'Did you sleep well, Mr Shire?'

He scarcely looked at her. 'Yes thank you, Lady Belacqua.' Lyra could not see his magpie-daemon. She must have been hiding in the pocket of his ill-fitting suit.

Why won't he talk to me? Any chance Lyra may have had to try to engage Mister Shire in conversation evaporated as two footmen flung open the double doors at the far end of the room and the King entered. Everyone stood up.

The footmen closed the doors, King Alfred took his seat, and Lyra noticed that, although the table was round and there was supposed to be no special status attached to any particular seat at it, nevertheless the King's chair was set in such a way that her attention seemed to focus on it automatically. What a clever room this is, this Star Chamber!

The King spoke: 'Good morning to you all. Good heavens, I'm sure this tower grows higher, and the stairs become steeper, ever time I come here. Let me start by extending my personal thanks to every one of you for responding so generously to my call for a King's Council. I know that you are all very busy people and I can assure you that I would not have asked you to abandon your duties and come to London if there was no need.

'What is the need? Why have I called this Council? On the surface, all is well with the Commonwealth of Great Brytain, and with her Dominions around the world. Trade prospers, does it not, Sir Patrick?'

'Yes it does, your majesty,' the industrialist replied.

'There is peace at home and abroad, Lord Dellar?'

'Barring some rumblings in the Rheinland yes, your majesty.'

'Justice is being done, Sir Kenneth?'

'And being seen to be done, your majesty.'

'The nation is in good spiritual health?' The King looked towards the Bishop of Caester.

'As good as may be expected, your majesty.'

'You clerics! You're just like the farmers! You can't get them to admit it when they're doing well either!'

The bishop smiled a thin, narrow smile.

'Mr Shire. Do the stars foretell any threats to the safety of our great Empire?'

'No, your majesty.'

'And you, Lady Belacqua. Do the Colleges prosper? Does Learning walk hand in hand with Wisdom across the quadrangles of our universities?'

'Indeed it does, your majesty.' What is he leading up to?

'All seems to be well, then. And yet… And yet I am not happy. There is something – something in the governance of Brytain that is not sound. It is a canker which, if we do not cut it out, will devour the heart of the State, and lead to its downfall. It is something which has been giving me great trouble in my mind and which has finally led me to call this Council.' The King's voice had lost its light casual tone now. He was speaking in deadly earnest.

'We must make a choice in this Council that will affect our futures for all foreseeable time to come. If we choose well, we will live and grow. If we choose wrongly, then I foresee that in less than twenty years we will not be living, as we do now, in a prosperous society that is at peace with itself but in a state of desperate and bloody anarchy. Brytain will fall; and if Brytain falls, can any nation hope to stand?'

The King's eyes focussed on each of the Councillors in turn. 'It to you that I turn now. Together we must decide what we must do in order to save our country.'