[Firefoot]

“Now,” said Siamak, “would you care to tell us what is going on?” He felt little patience with the panicked guards who had interrupted their meeting and sent the whole palace into an uproar.

“The King has gone missing!” declared one of the guards.

“We know that,” snapped Gjeelea. “What else can you tell us?” Siamak privately agreed with her; this was ridiculous. How could a man whose chambers were constantly guarded simply disappear?

The guard in front who appeared to be in charge bowed. “Apologies, Prince, Princess. I am not sure what has happened, nor is anyone else in the palace. All I know is that the Queen went to seek an audience with the King, but he was not in his apartments even though no one saw him leave. And so we were ordered to take you some place safe.” Siamak frowned in mild concern. Surely there was a logical explanation for all this.

“Are you sure this is really necessary?” asked Siamak. His father would show up soon, and the whole episode would soon be dismissed as a mistake, probably on account of the guards. Siamak was not so sure, and he had a feeling that the guards were right: something evil was afoot. This was no mere coincidence, Siamak was sure; too many strange things had happened of late. That eerie shadow by his window, for instance. He had seen something, but what?

“Our orders...” began the guard uneasily. The Emissary interjected, “Perhaps you should go with them, until the King is found.” Siamak glanced at him reproachfully, having forgotten the Emissary was still standing there. Siamak sighed, and was about ready to acquiesce to the guards’ request when a messenger appeared down the hallway.

“The King is fine!” he announced. There was a collective sigh of relief from the guards. “The Queen sends word that the guards should go back to their posts.” And then he was gone to spread the word throughout the palace. “See? There was no need for such panic,” said Siamak. After another bow and a muttered apology their captain issued orders and the guards dispersed.

“If you don’t mind, I will return to my own rooms now,” said the Emissary. “If there is anything else you should like to know we can speak of it later.” Siamak nodded, “until we meet again, then.” With that, the Emissary departed. Gjeelea followed soon afterwards with barely a word his way, and Siamak was blessedly alone.

Siamak had grown weary of this meeting - everything the Emissary said sounded good: too good. From his mother’s teachings he knew that there were two sides to every war. While the Emissary painted pictures with words of how his lord’s motives were nothing but benevolent, Siamak readily accepted the words as only somewhat true. The Elves and... Dwarves? would have a different story. The hard part was figuring out how much and which parts were true. He had a feeling that the basic history was true, if somewhat shaded. He wondered about the Emissary’s god - Melkor - and these other Elves who had come from across the western sea. He wondered if any of these things had been heard of in Pashtia, long ago. Perhaps he would ask General Morgôs next time he saw him. Siamak wasn’t sure exactly how long the Elf had been living, but he knew it was several generations.

Siamak bit thoughtfully into a peach. He trusted the Emissary no more than he ever had, but he was feeling inclined toward accepting the offer. The threat of an emissary being sent to Alanzia if they declined had not been lost on him, and if the alliance did not precisely help Pashtia, it didn’t seem likely to hurt the country either.

At a knock on the door, Siamak stifled a grimace and called out, “Yes?” He had no desire to see anyone at the moment. A guard poked his head in the door and announced, “The General Morgôs wishes to see you. Shall I let him in?” Siamak nodded impatiently. “Yes, please do.”

The General entered and bowed slightly, fist to heart. Siamak smiled, saying, “General Morgôs, come on in and sit down.” He did so, reclining on the same couch that the Emissary had recently occupied.

“I had hoped you would come today,” said Siamak. “You see, the Emissary was here recently, and he mentioned some things about the Elves of the early days, and a god of his, Melkor.” Briefly Siamak described the Emissary’s words and finished with, “You have lived much longer than any mortal. Do you know of any of these things? Were such ideas known in Pashtia at one time, long ago?”