[Novnarwen]

Tarkan

“I had hoped, Priest, to learn your feelings on the Emissary. My brother and I have a difficult decision to make, and I seek not just to please our own desires in the matter but to reach a decision that works for everyone.”

He looked at the Princess, not certain how to respond. He had expected this question, but not from her. Seeing her standing in front of him though, he realised that it was only natural that the King’s children turned to religious leaders for guidance in serious matters. He hoped he was correct in assuming this, yet he could not be certain of anything. Had the Princess asked the High Priestess Zamara the same question, or was she testing him? Feeling uncomfortable by Gjeelea’s big, beautiful, penetrating eyes, he tried avoiding her gaze. Instead, his eyes met Pelin’s. The young servant of the new temple stood shuffling his feet, his whole figure being evidence of his uneasiness. Usually not caring about other people’s feelings, or anything that had anything to do with others, the Priest couldn’t help wondering though, why Pelin seemed so worried. Was Pelin listening to his conversation with the Princess, and in some way trying to hinder him from answering the princess? Or maybe, he was trying to get his attention, thus getting Gjeelea’s attention. Slightly disturbed by this thought, he shook his head and tried focusing on what to answer. What Pelin did or didn’t do was none of his concern, as long as it didn’t ruin his own plans of course.

“Pelin, will you take my belongings to the apartments?” Tarkan asked, suddenly caring. He wanted to have Pelin out of the way. He deemed it unnecessary for Pelin to eavesdrop or disturb the two of them in any other way.

Coming over, the young man stared intensely at the priest. “I need a word with you first,” he said calmly in a squeaking voice.

Sighing, the priest said with a fierce voice: ”Did I not tell you to take my belongings to the newly built apartments? . . . Please,” he said, emphasising the word ‘please,’ as he was starting to realise his mistake. Taking a step towards the young man, who was as glued to the wheelbarrow, he whispered: ”Are you intending to stand here forever to make my life miserable?”

Hearing this, the Princess opened her eyes wide. It did not only seem to shock her, these words spoken by the Priest, it seemed to have such a great affect on her that she hardly could stand still. Seeing the priest in this mood, she only said silently: ”If my coming was in any way inconvenient, I will come by tomorrow.”

The Priest ignored the Princess, still staring hard at Pelin, reproaching himself for letting his anger take control of him in front of a woman he intended to make his wife.

“It’s important, Father.”

Taking a step aside, excusing himself, he made Pelin follow. With this last comment, or what had seemed more like a request, Tarkan had had enough. No one was ordering him, or telling him what was important. Was the Princess not important, maybe? What could possibly be more important than her? Tarkan watched the Princess standing still, as if frightened, paces away; the distance between them was just enough for Pelin and Tarkan to talk quietly to each other without being heard,

“Pelin, Pelin, Pelin… You have disrespected me. Not just in public, but in the presence of the princess, and probably my Queen to come!” He listened to himself and heard how stupid it sounded. He had been inches from saying ‘wife’, but had luckily managed to utter the word ‘Queen.’ Swallowing, he knew that Pelin was not ready for another bit of his story; he was the rightful king to the throne, and Pelin probably knew that much. But if the young man also got to know his secret intentions about making Gjeelea his wife, it would most likely be too much for him, and what he had worked for would be put to ruin. Gazing into Pelin’s grey questioning eyes, he continued: ”I will have no of this, no more! Do you hear me! You will go and take my belongings to the apartments now, and you will do so without hesitating. Is that understood?!?”

Pelin nodded. “But… which apartment?”

“Which?!? Which?!? Are you mocking me? Tell me, Pelin.. Who am I?” Tarkan said sternly, his mouth twitching with anger. His face was so turned and so twisted that one could hardly recognise the Priest, whose figure seemed to grow in size where he stood. It seemed that the Priest’s anger had taken control of not only him, but Pelin as well. Trembling, the young man could do nothing but stand still like a helpless child who was facing an angry drunkard of a father. “I am Tarkan, Priest of the Temple of Rhais, but no more. Who am I now, from this day on?” Smiling cruelly, he continued:” You didn’t honestly believe you were going to be High Priest of the Temple, did you? I will tell you this as plainly and simply as I can: You will not be High priest; not in this Temple, not anywhere. I will and thus, I will have the apartment which is rightfully mine by title, and you know just as well as I, which apartment that is! Now, get moving. And if you so much as dear to approach the Princess again by getting my attention, I will make you wish you’d never met me.”

“The King wishes to see you instantly.” With these words, expressed in a most petty voice, Pelin turned on his heals and left the wheelbarrow standing in front of the Priest, who stood somewhat regretfully behind.

Biting his lips, he paced over to the Princess again, pretending that everything was fine. "The King, your father, wishes to see me," he started. His voice was clear. He watched the Princess furrowing her brow, most likely expecting him to say something more, as there had been a reason ofher visit. "When it comes to your question," he said, smiling faintly, seeing that her eyes brightened up, "I cannot give you a proper answer. I have not had the chance to get to know this Emissary well enough to make an opinion of him. I do believe however, that you, my Princess, will be able to make a decision that will please both your father and the people of Pasthia." He breathed heavily and muttered under his breath: "May the Mighty Rae . . . . and of course Rhais. . . be to your help making this burdensome choice. Now, I must leave you and do some errands before I see your father."