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The Minister was right, of course. And we, too, will forget about him
once the Emperor's met Diavolo d'Oro and our tale really begins. Dispensable
things, these ministers, and not only for Emperors; for storytellers as well.
Witness:

The Minister lead Emperor Aurumius to the third hill in the shadow of
the fourth mountain where there was an archway through which the Emperor
could see, a shimmering desert of gold. Not a treasure trove of gold. Not a
mountain of gold. An entire desert of gold as far as Aurumius's eye could see;
all the way to the horizon: gold, gold, gold. Aurumius ran through the
archway, the Minister forgotten forever. And you -- be truthful now -- are you
more interested in staying on this side of the archway and chatting further with
the Minister (who doesn't even have a name, but only a mere number), or are
you, in fact, more interested in following Emperor Aurumius IV through the
archway to meet the Demon of Gold? You see my point. Thus does the
Minister vanish forever from the Emperor's wrath, and from literature.
Farewell, Minister, sweet dr --

The desert was no mirage. It was made of gold as deep as the ocean,
gold flecks, as far as the edge of the sky. Even farther! For you could travel for
days to the horizon and there would only be more horizon of gold, and beyond
that, still more horizon. I'm saying it was a lot of gold.

The Emperor fell on his knees and kissed the gold sand, then scooped
his arms in it, as though to embrace it. He felt he couldn't breathe, dared not
breathe. He was suffocating in his own greed. He had never been happier.
But how to get all the gold back to his palace? How many wagons would he
need, how many slaves, how many years, to transport all the gold back through
the archway!

Emperor Aurumius IV looked back at the archway. It, too, was made of
gold. Standing, stooped, in place of the north column of the archway, was the

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