[Fordim Hedgethistle]

With the arrival of Lord Korak and the assent of Lady Arshalous the conversation turned to more practical matters of finance. The King spent the morning speaking with them both of schedules and supplies, materials and money. Throughout the conversations it became clear that there was a strange dynamic at work between the two cousins. The Lady, while opposed to the idea of the Temple, was intelligent and quick-witted about it. She demonstrated an innate grasp of the issues, and despite her lack of practical knowledge about construction, leant many good suggestions. The Lord, on the other hand, showed little more than enthusiasm for the High Temple, and clear malicious glee at the Lady’s having been forced to agree to it. In all other matters, his slow mind was useless to the King, and he found himself gradually turning entirely to the Lady Arshalous for counsel. Faroz at first thought that the animosity was entirely on one side, but within a couple of hours it became clear that the Lady had as little affection for her cousin as the other way around. The King was careful to hide his own interest in this, for the seed of a plan was beginning to form in his innermost thoughts. The hold that the Lord Korak had over him had galled him for too many years. With the Ring, there was now something that he could do about that, but the did not remove the danger of upsetting the delicate balance he had established in his kingdom with the promise of marriage between his daughter and Korak. Were he to do anything to upset that balance he had to make sure that there would be someone beyond the immediate circles of the Court to help him re-establish it. He realised that perhaps the Lady Arshalous would be the one to do that for him. He had cowed her with his threats, but not brought her to him. She was obviously loyal, and dutiful, but for his plans to succeed, he would need to find some way to bind her to him more fiercely.

The Lady Hababa was nodding in her cushions, and Korak’s attempts to appear interested in the discussions were becoming increasingly sporadic, when the Chamberlain Jarult entered to announce that the Emissary had arrived. The King noted with keen interest the sudden light that flashed from the Lady Arshalous’s eyes. Faroz eagerly bade the Emissary to join them upon the balcony, and ordered that the midday meal be served to them all out there.

Ashnaz came to them, resplendent in some of the clothes that the King had ordered taken to him that morning. Like a member of the Pashtian nobility he was clad in long robes of flowing material that hung to and swayed about his unseen feet. The clothes that he had chosen were, however, entirely black and there was neither ornament nor refinement to them. The light seemed to pass through his form leaving only a rich black shadow. His face, rising almost mysteriously above the material, was lit with a warm smile, and his handsome eyes glinted at them. His hair had been carefully brushed and swept back from his face, and Faroz could tell that he had oiled it after the fashion of Pashtia. It was clear that his friend had gone to some effort to close the distance between his own foreign nature and the ways of this realm. Rising to greet him, the King said, “You look well in those robes. I am happy to see you dressing in the manner of my realm. I have no doubt that you were warm enough yesterday in that close-fitting tunic! Is not this kind of dress more suited to my land?”

The Emissary bowed his head and placed his hand on his chest. Faroz could sense that hidden beneath his clothes where his hand lay was Ashnaz’s own Ring, and for some reason the King’s mind went back to his experience last night. Even at the memory the Emissary looked into his eyes and it flew into Faroz’s mind that somehow his friend knew all of what had passed. They gazed at one another in silence for a moment so brief that none there noticed it, but in that brief space of time, no more than a heartbeat, they exchanged a special kind of greeting, sealing a compact of a sort.

The servants came out with a meal of stewed fruits and slow-roasted vegetables, with several platters of fragrant rice. The King and his friend sat down upon the cushions with the others, and the Emissary apologised if he had come too soon upon the hour he had been appointed. “Not at all my friend,” Faroz replied. “You have arrived in good time. I only was so caught up in conversation on an important matter that I neglected to note the passing of time.” He turned to the others and once more resumed his duties as host. “I do not think that you have met the Lord Korak or the Ladies Arshalous and Hababa?”

“On the contrary, Majesty, I did have the opportunity of greeting the Lord Korak last night, and the pleasure of meeting the Lady Arshalous, although I am glad to do so again.” There was a moment of formal greeting between them all. The King noted the keen interest in his friend displayed by Arshalous, as well as the bored manner of Korak. The Lady Hababa shook herself awake for the introduction and after being reminded of who the stranger was, made a fair reply to his greeting. When his was accomplished, Ashnaz asked them what matter had kept them in discussion for the morning.

“We have been discussing the construction of a new High Temple in honour of the god Rae,” Faroz replied as he accepted a plate from one of the servants.

“Indeed?” the Emissary replied. “I regret that one of the things about which I am most ignorant is your religion, my King. I believe that you worship two gods? A male and a female, if I am right?”

It was the Lady Arshalous who answered him, telling him about Rae and Rhais as they ate. The Emissary asked many questions about them both, but it became clear that he was more interested in learning of Rae and of his role in their world. He seemed surprised that the sky god was not regarded as highly as the goddess of the Earth, and he asked why this was so. “The goddess Rhais is supreme over the god Rae,” Arshalous explained, “as it is from the Earth that life comes to us in the form of food and water. Without her, there would be no existence. It is also from her that we have the metals that we adorn ourselves with, and that allow us to fashion the tools that we use.”

The Emissary replied to the Lady. “But do you not owe light and life to your sky god, Rae? Is he not also one who gives you rain and sustenance for your crops?”

The Lady frowned at this, quite prettily. “Rain? Indeed, Rae will sometimes send us water from the sky, but it comes only once or twice a year, and always it is a cause for woe. The rains here are too heavy for our crops and wash them into the river. No, our crops depend upon the river and the water that we are able to divert from it to our farms. In ancient days, people believed that the river came directly from Rhais where she dwelt in the mountains, crying for the loss of her children who were killed by Rae. But we have long since learned that the waters spring from the icy fields that lie atop the mountains, and from the more gentle rains that fall upon their lower slopes.”

“Ah,” the Emissary said with mild triumph, “so you do acknowledge that it is to the sky that you owe water and life for your crops!”

“I never denied it,” Arshalous replied lightly, “but the rains that Rae sends are destructive. It is only the presence of Rhais’s mountains, and her goodness in diverting that rain to us in the Great River, that means we can use the water safely.”

Faroz laughed. “There you are my friend!” he said to the Emissary. “Such is the piety of the Lady Arshalous and many like her. Do not attempt to sway her!”

The Emissary smiled back and replied, “Never would I seek to alter one’s view of their gods, my King. I ask only because in my own kingdom, we too worship a god much like your Rae. I had hoped that by learning a bit more about Him, we might together find that we have more in common than we supposed.”

“And what is the name of your god of the sky?” the Lady Hababa asked, surprising them all that she had been alert during the conversation.

The Emissary turned his attention to the old woman for the first time since greeting her. “His name, my Lady, is Melkor, which means in the tongue of old, ‘he who arises in might.’ He is the greatest of all the gods, and so we worship Him and Him alone.”