[Bêthberry]

The Emissary's words of emnity between elves and men soured any and all attempts he made at polite expressions of friendly alliance, at least with Bekah. It brought back to her mind all the tales of perfidy and mistrust and hatred with which she grew up, once again making precarious her efforts to assimilate the Pashtian attitude towards elves. First his arrival had strangely changed the King's behaviour, making his people jealous and mistrustful of the strange western man. Then he had made one or two social gaffes, statements which a seasoned courtier might not have made unless he wished to sew some discord. And now his story of strife between men and elves went straight to the heart of unrest here in Pashtia against the elves and outright hatred against them in her homeland. The food which she had eaten that evening sat heavily in her stomach, making her wish she had not eaten.

"You misunderstand my interest, Emissary," she replied calmly. "I did not ask about your country in order to evaluate your Lord Annatar's claim of friendship. As a child raised in Alanzia--as you clearly point out, having learnt that fact very soon upon your arrival--and an adult who has learned the ways of Pashtia I am interested in the great variety of cultures and societies which our earth seems to hold. Cultures as well as people influence each other and so I merely wished to enquire about the ways in which your country might influence us."

If the Emissary was blandly dissuaded by her disclaimer, Faroz was not. He was too astute at understanding how his Queen sought out information from a variiety of sources to believe that she would not use the Emissary's answers to frame some kind of opinion about this unusual request.

"Yet the night wears on and I have not paid greetings to our other guests here. My Lord, and Emissary, I leave you to your conversation. I will bid good night to others and take my leave." Bekah held her hand out to Faroz, which he acknowledged with a formal display of touch, and rose from her cushions, leaving them to their thoughts.

Bekah first sought out the High Priestess and the Priest, bidding each a goodnight and marking in their eyes their thoughts at the evening's events. Tarkan, she thought, showed a keen glint whenever he spied her daughter. It would not surprise me, she thought to herself.

"Zamara, a company of weavers have delivered to me carpets which they are anxious to be displayed in the temple. Would you wish to see them tomorrow? Come in the afternoon to my quarters, after my public hour of audience."

The Hight Priestess was not often summoned to the Queen's presence and her look showed her surprise.

"Oh, I do not mean to ignore Tarkan. You will join us, also, will you not?" asked Bekah as she turned to the Priest.

"Majesty, my taste is but humble and I believe it best to leave such decisions to those who understand such matters. If you would excuse me."

Bekah made no effort to hide her smile, which, indeed, was almost a sardonic twist of her mouth.

"You follow your own counsel, of course, Tarkan. Zamara, then, shall I see you?"

The Hight Priestess, more wise to the ways of court manners, understood that more might be discussed than mere carpets. She nodded agreement. Belah placed her hand upon the Priestess's staff and bowed her head in the formal courtesy due to the woman, but at the last moment she found it hard to maintain a serious or respectful face.

Out of the corner of her eye she had glimpsed the Lord Korak with a face as dark as waters under storm of the eastern wind. She had often wondered what family alliance had prompted Faroz to offer their daughter to him in infancy. As far as she could tell, the elderly Lady Hababa had been close with Faroz's family. Whatever reason, Bekah had always made a special place in her affairs for this family, so it was not unusual that she would make a special acknowledgement of the old woman.

"Lady Hababa, I am pleased to see you looking well and so spry this evening," she crooned as she arrived at the table and took her place on some cushions beside the old woman.

"Well, I wouldn't want to miss the wedding," was the rather strange reply.

"None of us would, I'm sure," replied Bekah quickly, quite aware of the older woman's confused memory, and anxious to smooth away the look of utter disdain the Lord Korak showed towards the woman's frailty.

"The music was nice. Almost like it was when I was young, but I could not hear all the speeches."

"Nothing of any great portent was said, Mother," replied Korak, clearly wishing to cut off his cousin from any kind of retort. She, however, had stopped her tongue with the arrival of the Queen, for the Lady Arshalous could see little use in displaying family discord in front of a member of the Royal family.

"You calm your mother with unction, my Lord Korak, but I would have thought you in particular would be intrigued by the King's annoucement."

"Oh, he was, Majesty, he was," interjected Arshalous, beginning to see that some fun could be had at her cousin's expense.

Bekah allowed herself a small laugh inside as she sat back and watched the family struggle to maintain some composure while masking their animosity. It was perhaps not entirely kind of her, but this family was so hypocritical that she could not resist occassionally drawing them out. Yet she felt sincere fondness for the older woman, for the Lady Hababa had been one of the first court members to show her acceptance when she had first arrived. It was always with gentle sadness that she tried to steer the woman's conversation away from her fears of forgetfulness. Yet, after some time, Bekah found the cousins would not this night relinguish any thoughts about the Emissary or the King's decision.

"You will come to see us soon, Majesty," the elderly woman said. "Nobody comes to see me anymore."

"I will come as soon as my schedule permits, my Lady Hababa, for you are one of my favoured members of the court." Bekah tried hard not to catch the impatience in the eyes of the cousins as she bid the family a goodnight and rose to withdraw from the banquet.

Bekah signalled her attendants to escort her out, leaving the Chamberain with her request for her children. "Tell Siamak and Gjeela that I wish to see them midmorning in my quarters."

For all the captivating nature of the banquet, the feast, the scented aromas, the entertainments and music, Bekah left the affair with greater mistrust of his Emissary than she had when she arrived. Every where he placed his words, he seemed to strike some kind of discord, almost provoking controversy under a suave manner of politeness. She shivered, recalling her courtyard empty of any guards. Yet he spoke of one voice, one authority. In her heart, she worried about the King's announcement to leave the decision to their children. She wondered if they were astute enough to understand the role which had been thrust upon them. With that thought, she wound her way through the passageways to her quarters.