The Armourer and the Sarjeant-at-Arms, both of whom had good reason to know the ghost of Jacob, both looked equally shocked and appalled. Harry and Roger and Callan all recognised the name, and looked at me sharply. The Sarjeant, not surprisingly, put it into words first.

“Have you gone stark staring mad? Does he know about . . . ?”

“No he doesn’t,” I said quickly. “And I really don’t think we should tell him just yet. It’s the kind of thing you need to work up to.”

“Tell me what?” said Jacob, immediately suspicious.

“Does the other Jacob know?” said the Armourer. “How’s he going to take it?”

“He does know,” I said. “And he’s taking it . . . as well as can be expected. He approves, though. He says it’s . . . necessary.”

“What other Jacob?” said the living Jacob. “Edwin, is there something thou’rt keeping from me?”

“Oh, lots,” I said. “You know how it is in this family.”

Jacob sniffed, and drained his wineglass.

I stared steadily at the Armourer and the Sarjeant. “The Merlin Glass chose this man, as the best and most suitable candidate out of the whole past family. That ought to tell you something. Jacob, all will be made clear to you, in time. Now please, introduce yourself.”

“I have fought in many wars,” the living Jacob said, just a little grandly. “Those secret and invisible wars the Droods have always specialised in, for the protection of the world. I can help thee deal with the practical and political sensibilities, those being my area of expertise, in my day. The principles of waging war are really quite simple: divide and conquer, identify and strike at weak spots, and most of all, get everyone else so confused they don’t dare do anything for fear of doing the wrong thing.”

“The world has changed some, since your day,” said Callan.

“But the hearts of politicians have not, I’ll warrant,” said Jacob.

“He’s got a point,” said Callan.

“Thank you, Jacob,” said the Armourer. “I’m sure your experience will prove invaluable. Now, if you and William will excuse us, we have private matters to discuss.”

William nodded and gestured, and the Merlin Glass shrank back down to normal size again and tucked itself into my jacket pocket. Thankfully without the bloody gong sound this time. The Armourer glared at me.

“All right, Eddie. You’re still looking dangerously smug. Drop the other shoe. Who or what did the mirror find for you in the future?”

“Ah,” I said. “This is where it gets just a bit complicated. I have located a superb future warrior, and distant descendant of ours, called Giles Deathstalker.”

“Deathstalker?” said Harry. “What kind of a name is that?”

“It suited him,” I said. “The point is, I’ve seen the man fight, and he’s death on two legs and nasty with it. Just what we need. He’s quite ready to help us out. Unfortunately . . .”