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annual arduous
journey across the desert in order to pay fealty to the Emperor in
the Great Central Palace.

The tapestries depicting the great battles of the Wars of the
Continents dominated all four walls of the massive central chamber
whilst the four great bronze statues representing the four pillars
upon which the Dildonian state rested - strength, resilience,
wisdom and courage - dominated all four corners in their turn. The
state's officials and the generals and the major civil servants and
the bureaucrats - decked out in their best robes of state, thronged
around the room on the specially built terraces whilst at the head
of the room on a massive, ornately carved golden throne, was seated
the Emperor himself. He was dressed, as was the custom of this day,
in the golden plate breast armour and gilt silver helmet
accompanied by a long flowing red tunic which wrapped its way over
his neck and down his back and over his legs and groin area - the
Imperial military dress, which had been worn into battle by every
single Emperor of Dildone who had ever found cause to go to war,
which was the vast majority. However the extended period of peace,
an unusual event in the history of Dildone, meant that the Emperor
was one of the few of his long dynasty not to have bloodied his
hands, at least in battle.
    The Emperor was thirty-two years old and had reigned supreme
over the planet for coming up to eleven years now. In earlier years
the Emperor had been a keen sportsman and hunter and had kept a
trim, muscular figure, but a fall from his horse during one
particular hunt seven years ago had bruised his spine and it had
never been the same since. Subsequently his muscles had turned to
flab and though he was by no means morbidly obese, and though he
did try to remain active and undertake a little exercise each day
there was no denying his figure had become rounded and less
attractive. Still, his dark and swarthy looks were still forbidding
and his long, pointed nose and jutting chin remained unmistakably
regal.
    Stood next to the Emperor beside his throne, standing so still
as to seem almost frozen in space and time, was the Emperor’s head
of the armed forces, Gabor Behmothbone. A soldier since the age of
twelve Gabor had fought in the Great War of the Continents as a
young man and his exploits were legendary, as were the scars on his
face. Although Dildone had been at peace for a long time now, Gabor
had never forgotten his soldiers bearing, and knew that times could
easily become volatile. He was the Emperor's closest adviser, and
also his most trusted friend.
    Leading away from the throne, all the way across the length of
the room and to the great double doors that led to the main steps
outside, was a resplendent purple carpet, woven of the finest
velvet, and it was along this carpet that the vassals of the
Dildone now stepped, to the fanfare of the buglers who formed an
arch over either side.
    "Agronax Lightfinger - representative of the Kingdom of
Blackcavern!" Announced the Chief Minister, an elderly bald man
dressed head to toe in a long red robe. The representative
approached, his head bowed. "I, as a prince of the vassal state of
Blackcavern, bow down in tribute and submission to my most beloved
Emperor and master." The representative spoke softly and with the
appropriate reverence.
"Vassal Lightfinger," said the Emperor with
authority. "What tribute have you brought to myself and my court on
this, the day of commemoration of your Submission and our
triumph?"
"Imperial Highness," replied the representative.
"For the completion of your temples, and your buildings and your
drainage systems I present to you today three thousand slabs of
rock, hewn from the mountains around our kingdom, and for the
completion of the triumphal arch around the Western end of your
city as a symbol of your dominance over my people, I present to you
on behalf of my people the sum of fifteen slabs of the finest
marble." The Representative bowed even