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Back Emperor
Chapters (76)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. I
  4. II
  5. III
  6. I - INVADER AD 43-70
  7. I
  8. II
  9. III
  10. IV
  11. V
  12. VI
  13. VII
  14. VIII
  15. IX
  16. X
  17. XI
  18. XII
  19. XIII
  20. XIV
  21. XV
  22. XVI
  23. XVII
  24. XVIII
  25. XIX
  26. XX
  27. XXI
  28. XXII
  29. XXIII
  30. XXIV
  31. XXV
  32. XXVI
  33. II - BUILDER AD 122-138
  34. I
  35. II
  36. III
  37. IV
  38. V
  39. VI
  40. VII
  41. VIII
  42. IX
  43. X
  44. XI
  45. XII
  46. XIII
  47. XIV
  48. XV
  49. XVI
  50. XVII
  51. XVIII
  52. XIX
  53. XX
  54. XXI
  55. III - EMPEROR AD 314—337
  56. I
  57. II
  58. III
  59. IV
  60. V
  61. VI
  62. VII
  63. VIII
  64. IX
  65. X
  66. XI
  67. XII
  68. XIII
  69. XIV
  70. XV
  71. EPILOGUE
  72. I
  73. II
  74. III
  75. IV
  76. Afterword

Somehow Isolde found the words slippery, wriggling from her grasp like fish in a stream. What were words beside the bloody reality of pain? But even as ocean-deep agony washed down her body, she felt impelled to speak. She turned her head, opened her mouth - but the words that poured from her lips were harsh and unrecognisable, even to her. She tried again, but only more alien words came.

Tarcho turned, curious now. ‘What’s she saying?’

‘I don’t know.’ Maria frowned, concerned. ‘It isn’t Latin - is it? Or any British tongue.’

‘I think it’s German,’ Tarcho said. ‘Saxon maybe. Or Angle-ish. Why would a girl like that learn to speak Saxon?’

But I never have, Isolde thought, locked inside her own head. She tried again to speak but more of the repetitive gibberish, this Saxon, poured from her mouth.

‘I know what this means,’ Maria breathed, her face flushed. ‘It’s happening again.’

Tarcho asked, ‘What is?’

‘The Prophecy! You heard how Nennius described it. This is just as at the birth of Nectovelin - oh, get a stylus, you fool, and write it down!’

Tarcho stared. Then he disappeared from Isolde’s view.

Isolde longed for her father to come to her, but he was still poring over his document. ‘And the Prophecy’s final lines - at last!—’

The pain intensified even further. Maria yelled, ‘It’s coming!’

Nennius read, ‘ “Remember this: We hold these truths self-evident to be—”’

‘The baby’s head - I can see it’

Even now, even as she pulsed with pain, Isolde helplessly gabbled Saxon.

‘Why is she speaking Saxon?’ Tarcho growled. ‘The future is Brigantian, not Saxon!’

‘That may not be up to you,’ Maria said. ‘Now shut up, you fool, and help me.’

‘“I say to you that all men are created equal, free / Rights inalienable assured by the Maker’s attribute / Endowed with Life and Liberty and Happiness’s pursuit ...” ’ Nennius sounded baffled. ‘Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness? What does it mean? If these are the words of the Weaver, what dream of his is this? Oh, what does it mean?’

The pain squeezed Isolde like a vast fist, and her baby fell into Maria’s arms.

Afterword

Afterword

I’m deeply grateful to Adam Roberts for his expert assistance with the Prophecy of Nectovelin, and for an invaluable reading of the book at manuscript stage. I’m also grateful to my agent Robert Kirby and editor Simon Spanton for even more than usually wise suggestions regarding the concept of this project.