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took out the cork and sniffed it. Lukas, standing next to him, caught a whiff of urine. The second container was a covered pale porcelain bowl. Anselmus held his breath, quickly lifted and replaced the lid, and pronounced the Emperor’s stools to be healthy.
    The routine inspection over, Anselmus assured the Emperor his body was in good health. Lukas realised with disappointment that it would soon be time to leave.
    Rudolph reached for a small handbell and rang it. The courtier who had let them in appeared and within a few minutes they were back at Anselmus’s apartment.
    ‘So, Lukas, what did you make of our Emperor?’ asked Anselmus, almost eagerly. Lukas wondered whether he had been glad to have someone else with him.
    ‘It was a great honour, Uncle,’ he said diplomatically, but what he really wanted to say was that he felt perplexed. He had expected Rudolph to radiate some kind of luminous superhuman presence, but beneath his splendid clothes the Emperor seemed all too human. And after the hardship and poverty of his journey it was bizarre to be surrounded by so many things that were worth many months’ food and shelter. For a moment he thought of Etienne again. He would love to be able to tell him about what he had just seen.
    ‘Who are the “we” and “us” he talks about?’ asked Lukas.
    ‘It is a royal tradition,’ said Anselmus. ‘Monarchs of all descriptions refer to themselves as we and us. They mean “God and I”, I suppose, or “We, the living embodiment of the realm and its people”.’ He laughed at the absurdity, then looked sad. ‘His Highness suffers greatly from melancholy. It has grown worse in the time I have been observing him. And he is bedevilled by hypochondria.’
    ‘Uncle,’ said Lukas gingerly, ‘I know what melancholy is, but not hypo . . . whatever it was.’
    Anselmus’s eyes widened in irritation, but he checked himself and spoke in a firm, calm voice. ‘Hypochondria. It is a Greek word. It is a disease of the mind where the patient fears they are suffering from ailments that are in fact imaginary. Today was a good day. Sometimes we have rages and sometimes we have dark silences.’

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    Chapter Ten
    That afternoon Anselmus sent the largest of the lapis lazuli stones to the royal jewellers, to be polished and attached to a silver chain so it could be worn around the neck. Then he showed Lukas how to make the Emperor’s new medicine. He had him grind the remaining gemstones to a powder, ‘the finer the better’. Then he mixed it with wine, honey, cinnamon and olive oil. Lukas took it at once to the Emperor’s quarters.
    He returned to see Anselmus welcoming a visitor to his apartment. ‘Lukas, my dear boy,’ he beamed, ‘this is my esteemed colleague and companion Doktor Albrecht Grunewald!’
    Lukas bowed. Grunewald was as stout as Anselmus was lean, although he had an almost identical long white beard.
    He smiled warmly at Lukas. Then a shadow crossed his face. ‘I was sorry to hear of your father,’ he said. ‘I have some sympathy for his beliefs. You will find in Prague, with our good Emperor to rule us, that men are left to follow their own faith without fear of the Inquisition. Indeed, they are allowed to do many things in the spirit of natural enquiry that would not be permitted in most other Christian realms.’
    He paused in thought then said to Anselmus, ‘Which reminds me, did you notice a party of Spaniards arrive earlier this week?’
    ‘My nephew brought this to my attention,’ replied Anselmus.
    ‘Court ambassadors by the look of them,’ he said to them both. ‘I wonder what they’re doing here. I shall make it my business to find out.’
    Then he turned back to Anselmus. ‘Look at this,’ he said excitedly, holding up the book he was carrying. ‘It contains Guarinonius’s formula for Elixir vitae .’
    Lukas looked baffled. Grunewald turned the pages until he came to the section he wanted.
    ‘I doubt it really is the Elixir vitae