[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Ashnaz was waiting for him at the assigned place. Khamûl removed the Ring and stepped into the small enclosure formed by the tall hedges of his private garden, his feet making hardly a sound even upon the dry gravel of the pathway. He had learned how to move quietly and quickly, flitting from place to place like a wraith in the night, for even though the power of Annatar’s gift shielded him from men’s eyes, he could still be heard and felt. So accustomed was he now to walking upon the balls of his feet that it had become habit, and even when visible he would often be upon people before they knew he was there.

“How did it go?” the Emissary asked him, his lips curling into a handsome smile.

“As we foresaw,” he replied, his heart settling once more in his chest. Of late, he had become anxious when apart from his friend for more than a few hours. So much had he come to depend upon the wisdom of his counsel and the comfort of his presence that he felt its absence like the gaping of an open wound. He resisted the urge to take Ashnaz by the hand.

“So the Lady Arshalous is to be your wife.”

“Aye, that she is.”

“And did she seem pleased at the prospect?” Ashnaz smiled again, and Khamûl’s heart lightened as though it were the dawn.

“Not very,” he replied. “Although she was more pliable than we had anticipated. Perhaps she truly can be saved…?”

Ashnaz shook his head sadly and reached out to take the King by his shoulder. His hand was warm and strong, even through the heavy leather of his glove. “I do hope so, my friend, for her sake as much as for our own. But where did you find her? With whom was she speaking when you made your intentions known?”

“So you saw,” the King said. “I should have known that you were watching me from afar.”

“You never leave my sight, my friend. Never. My thought and my will, and that of my lord, is ever upon you. You know that.”

“And great comfort I take from it, too.” He paused to return his friend’s gentle look of concern. “It is too late for her then, isn’t it?”

“You saw with your own eyes: she was deep in the treacherous plottings of your daughter. You found her at the house of your great rival, the worm who would keep you from the throne that is yours by the right of your own strength. I would counsel hope, but I fear that prudence leads me to warn you against the Lady Arshalous.”

The King felt tears come to his eyes, and his head bowed. For a moment, just a moment, his will sagged and his shoulders slumped. In that instant, if there had been any there to see the King who had known and loved Faroz in foregone days, they would have seen the change that had been wrought upon him by the power of the Ring and the honeyed lies of Its lord: for in that moment he appeared as an old, tired, and worn out man; as though he were bent beneath a terrible burden he staggered toward the Emissary, and perhaps by some trick of the light, it seemed as though he faded somewhat as he come into the embrace of his friend, as though he were putting on the Ring, though it was still in his pocket. “Oh what am I to do?” he gasped between his sobs. “Is there nobody I can trust? Is there no-one I can turn to?”

The Emissary held him like a child. “You are not friendless, Khamûl. You know that.”

“No,” he said, “I know. But you, who have ever enjoyed the love and trust of the lord Annatar, you cannot imagine what it is to be so steeped in the mud of treachery that the very smell of it makes you blind with revulsion. At times I think it would be better for me simply to flee with you back to your land, and to leave Pashtia to its own fate.”

“A lesser man might seek that route, but you are the King in this land, and you bear the burden of its care. You cannot abandon it to those who would defile it with their sin.”

“You are right, of course, as always, my friend. But my heart quakes at what I must do. Is there really no other way?” The only response he got was a slight tightening of the Emissary’s arms about his shoulders. “Very well,” the King murmured into the dark of the night. “I am prepared to do what I must. The sin that threatens my kingdom must be destroyed. I must be merciless and purge the state of those who plot against it. All who oppose me will die.”

“Even your children? And your affianced wife?”

“Yes. Even them. They have their part to play yet, but when they have fulfilled their roles, they will join their allies in the nameless place where they shall howl out their agony until the Final End.”