From the upper balcony of the palace, the city of Semb stretches before you. The sun is setting, casting long shadows where it catches on buildings, and shining directly into the royal terrace as it does for only a few minutes each day. The opening in the western wall of the cavern yawns wide, but from this angle only a small slice of sky can be seen above the low hills before the city and the buildings of the outer enclave. Down below the light from lanterns and torches begins to reassert itself as the sunlight slides away up the eastern wall passing over the carved windows and arches of the palace’s facade. The city is stirring again after the late afternoon lull. The crowds in the main market square are picking up, the sounds of haggling and hawking rising to echo off the cavern’s ceiling. To the right, away in the lower reaches of the northern district where the sunlight never shines, the distant staccato sounds of metal on metal or stone ring out from forges and workshops – the industry of the city will continue late into the night. Off to the left, the muted crump of a small explosion sounds from where excavation teams are working to uncover a ruined district of the old city. The last direct light of the sun slides off the terrace and you turn back towards the small group assembled there.

“Before you arrest me,” you say, “you’re going to want to hear what I have to tell you.”