[Fordim Hedgethistle]

“Your Queen, I fear, distrusts me Majesty,” the Emissary said as Bekah left. Faroz remained silent. “I hope, however, that her opinion has not swayed your own. You did call me friend today.”

“I did,” the King replied, “and so I will continue to call you. But I also have said that while I trust in you, I must take thought to your Lord’s purpose. I must admit that having heard of the discord between the Elves and men of your realm, I am more…reluctant now than previously to undertake an alliance with your Lord. Not that the decision is mine to make anymore! Did I do well, do you think, to leave it to my children?”

“That is not for me to say.”

“On the contrary, as I have asked you it is your duty as my guest to speak your mind.”

“Very well, Majesty. I am not convinced that you have done wisely this night. I am as yet unfamiliar with the ties between your people, but even I could see that your decision has caused confusion and even doubts among your people. It would have been better, I think, to make the decision yourself.”

“Ah, but then the doubts would not have been about my decision to leave the choice to my children, but of me. My people are not used to me having friendships with foreign strangers, and they are already cautious of you and your mission for the sake of the time that we have spent together this day. Were I to rule in your favour now, they would, I fear, distrust you even more, and doubt my ability to judge soundly. This way, a decision can be achieved that is best for the kingdom and in which no blame or doubt can be raised against me.”

“You assume, my King, that your children will choose as you would.”

“I am sure that they will,” he replied, “if they come to the decision as I would – by seeking the opinions of the people, and take into account the feelings of all involved.”

“Including their mother’s?”

Faroz’s eyes narrowed somewhat and he looked away from the Emissary. For the first time, he appeared to put some distance between them. “It displeases me how you and she do not get along. I do not expect my family and my friend to enjoy one another as I do, but I would hope that all could be upon kindly terms.”

“Of course your Majesty,” was the courtly reply.

Faroz stood and motioned for the Chamberlain to attend. “Jarult,” he said to the old man, “Please see the Emissary back to his villa.” He turned to the man. “My friend, I cannot tell you how I have enjoyed this day but I fear it has come to an end. Tomorrow, perhaps, you will be able to join me for an hour or two in the courtyard before the midday meal? I would speak with you about the gift of your Lord.”

Ashnaz stood and bowed elegantly. Looking significantly at the Chamberlain he said, “May I have a quiet word with you, my King, about that before I depart?” Faroz’s eyes narrowed once more, this time with inquisitiveness. He motioned for Jarult to stand off, which the old man did with his disapproval written on his face. The dark man leaned close to Faroz, so close that his breath ran across the King’s cheek as they spoke. “Do not put on the Ring in company, my King,” he said. “It is a…special thing that my Lord has sent to you, one endowed with many powerful gifts. It would be well if you were to put it on when you were alone.” Faroz leaned back and looked at his friend and nodded wordlessly, now filled with wonder and curiosity. Ashnaz bowed once more and took his leave.

* * *

The King wandered out into the courtyard, and once more his fingers sought out the ring beneath his clothes. He had wondered about it throughout the day, and his friend’s strange words only added to this feeling. He was not surprised that it was more than merely a piece of jewellery, that much had been obvious from the beginning. But the precise nature of the gift remained a tantalising mystery. The King longed to be alone and hidden from the eyes of his people so that he could put on the ring, but he had important business to attend to first. He walked toward the hidden garden where the attendants had said that his general was speaking with his son. What they had to say to one another was not entirely beyond his imagination, for he assumed that they were speaking of Ashnaz and the new responsibility that had been placed upon Siamak. Their manner when he found them, however, was odd, for as he emerged from the shadows it appeared as though Morgôs had just put some question to the Prince that had yet to be answered. The Elf’s manner was unperturbed but his son’s more open countenance flushed instantly. Faroz noted this but betrayed nothing with is own expression. He would have to keep an eye on his son and his general.

“General Morgôs” he said, “I am sorry to intrude but I need to speak with you on a matter of some importance. I am afraid that in my pleasure with the Emissary this day I have neglected to speak with you on the matter of guarding our guests during their stay here.” The unspoken matter of protecting the palace from these guests was left hanging in the air between them.

“Of course, Majesty,” the Elf replied. “I will see to it immediately. Within the hour I will have a squad of my best troops positioned throughout the palace. Would you like me to assign them guard duties to the guest’s quarters?”

Faroz thought for a second before answering. “It might be for the best. But make it clear to our new friends that this is being done for their own protection, and not to constrain their activities. They are to enjoy the full freedom of the palace and the city.” The general nodded. Faroz nodded to his son and then prepared to leave, but then turned back as though thinking of something. “Oh, I just recall that my Queen told me that she saw no guards in her private garden earlier this evening. Perhaps you could see to that? And increase the guard around the Queen herself for the time being.” The general’s eyebrows lifted ever so slightly, but again he nodded. Faroz departed, but wondered what it was that his son and his general were talking of. Not for the first time in his rule did he wish to remain and yet be unseen.

The night was beginning to advance and the moon, although only a crescent yet, shed a full clear light upon the gardens. The King moved through the complicated paths without paying attention to the paths for he had lived in the palace his whole life and knew its ways intimately. It was with surprise, then, that he found himself outside his wife’s doors for the second time this day. He would have walked off immediately, but as this would have caused even greater wonderment to the guards he indicated instead that they should knock and announce his presence. He was admitted to the Queen’s presence immediately. She had removed her head-dress and other ornaments, but other than that had not yet made ready for bed. She took one look at her husband’s expression and dismissed her attendants briefly. Faroz sat upon some cushions by the balcony.

“I am sorry for how this evening went, my wife. I was not as attentive to you as I should, nor did I give you your full due with the Emissary.” The Queen was visibly taken aback by his manner, and even Faroz was surprised by it. He clutched the ring as he proceeded. “You were quite right about the lack of guards, you know, and I have spoken with General Morgôs of the matter. He has said that you and all your places will be well guarded in the future.” He let the matter rest there.

“Thank you, my husband. But surely you have not come simply to tell me this?”

Faroz smiled mirthlessly. “How well you know me.” And then suddenly he said, “How many years have we been married? Twenty-three?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Twenty-four years,” he echoed her quietly. “I will not ask if you have been happy, for I do not think you could answer that question, even if you would do so honestly. I imagine that you have been content, for you are intelligent and adaptable, and have ever sought to help me in my rule. I wanted you to know that I appreciated that.” For a moment it seemed as though he would proceed, but then shaking his head he rose once more and, as though he were taking off a mask he put away the manner that had come over him. “You must forgive me, my wife. The Emissary has put me in an odd mood, and it is late.” He strode to the door and left without another word.

In silence he found his ways through the smaller passages to his own apartments. As soon as he arrived there he dismissed his attendants for the night and put out all the oil lamps in his room. In the dark he removed his finery and put on in their place a simple garment of white cloth that hung about him in loose folds. Taking the ring in his hand he walked out into the moonlight on the balcony. It was one of the few points in the palace that looked out from the walls rather than in toward the courtyard. It stood upon a corner at the highest level of the palace and commanded a full view of the palace grounds to the east of the Palace and, beyond them, the city stretching away into the dark. At this time of night, all that was visible were the faint lights of lamps and candles kept alight by those who watched through the night. Far off, upon the edges of sight, was the slight phosphorescence of the might river, against which he could dimly make out the silhouettes of hundreds of small ships, laden with the cargo of this kingdom. It was in moments such as this that the King felt small, and powerless. His entire world – over which he held sway – lay at his feet, but the immensity of it, the riches that it contained and – most of all – the sea of peoples that filled it overwhelmed him with a sense of his own insignificance. It frightened him that so much would look to him for guidance and control. All eyes were upon him, and all regarded him with a mixture of hope and fear, no matter how tempered with respect or admiration. Faroz had no illusions about the nature of his rule; he was neither beloved as a man nor worshipped as a demigod – that had been his father. He was just a man to his people, a powerful man, a wise man, perhaps, even a good man, but a man just the same: fallible and capable of making mistakes. There were times when he wished for his father’s presence and reputation. He had been regarded by friend and foe alike as a figure of myth more than as a person, and his failings, of which there had been many, were ignored by everyone but for those closest to him. And yet how Faroz longed to enjoy the simple humanity that set him apart from his father’s greatness. He he wished he could, for even a moment, lay aside his mask as the King and sit down to a meal as a man among men. He sighed heavily and leaned against the balustrade for support.

As he put his weight on his hands he became aware once more of the ring. He opened his fist and gazed upon it openly for the first time since that morning. Even in the wan illumination of the moon it seemed to shine with its own lustrous light. Taking it carefully in one hand he held it aloft where the red gem glowed in the starlight like a drop of fresh blood, liquid and beautiful. His own words came back to him: it is a precious gift. “Indeed it is,” he muttered under his breath, and he slipped it onto his finger.