* * *

  “Welcome, holy women!” gray-bearded king Yarael Twenty-Seventh muttered angrily “could you explain to me what was the meaning of this little play you have performed outside?”

  The throne room looked really grand. Thirty large painted windows omitted a handful of light inside. Therefore, it was possible to see here all the luxury of Waeryehenian architecture and art. Throne of the old king was on the end of the hall. The passage between monumental pillars that led exactly to it, was covered with the finest carpet that on the continent one could find. At the ornate wooden chair, carved by arms of the greatest Waeryehenian artists, Yarael sat surrounded by four guards, looking like a pretty tired old man but still very proud.

  A labyrinth of corridors, only slightly less luxurious than this room, lead them here after the King finally agreed to receive the priestesses. Walking that way, Dlora managed to find out the secret of defeating that guard. The old priestess showed her a small cloth bag through the sleeve of her robe, pulling it out just enough that the warrior could notices.

  “Crushed petals of Dreamy flowers” she whispered her “hardly visible at the top of your finger, almost without a smell, but if it enters your nose, it knocks you down in an instant.”

  Dlora was impressed and envious at the same time, as the priests of their rivals possessed such knowledge of nature and also for having access to such a powerful plant.

  “You're lucky the plant is extremely rare. If it was easier to grow, we would have won the war a long time ago.”

  In the throne hall, the King showed such anger, which was truly unusual and rare behavior for him. The whole world knew Yarael Twenty-Seventh as a peaceful and mild ruler. He was blamed for being first and most responsible for defeats of his army in the early years, recognized as a result of his aversion to war. Everybody knew that the war was not his choice, he was forced to go into it because of anger of his people. It was caused by the behavior of the prince's wife, a young woman of Ahleynian origin, queen Natya’s arrogant sister. The main author of a great shift in war and a series of spectacular victories, everyone knew, was his son. After the fall of their capital, Prince Yarael gained full control over the military and his father was left only to control civil matters, which the old man had enjoyed the most anyway. So his obvious rage at that moment, while standing in front of priestesses, was more uncomfortable. As the supreme religious leader he had the right to express anger at his subjects, and also to order any punishment for their misconduct. But the leading woman, who had caused this behavior with her little trick, knew the King for many years and was certain that he could always be reasoned with.

  “Oh great Yarael, prior to explanations, let us greet you properly, in apology for our behavior. After that, you will be convinced that it was justified.”

  Although eager to hear an explanation of the reason for their unannounced arrival, the king, however, allowed the ritual act of honoring His Majesty by kissing his hand.

  “Oh, okay, but hurry it up.”

  Each priestess had a duty to bow at his feet and kiss him in the arm. Gray-haired priestess turned her head to Dlora and gave her a barely perceptible nod that this was the ideal moment.

  The old woman went first, and Dlora behind her, the remaining warriors stood in line behind them. After the first woman completed her duty, Dlora also took a royal hand with her right and, pretending to be kissing it, pointed a knife with her left hand in his belly and ordered quietly:

  “Tell your soldiers to come out. We are not here to kill you.”

  Then she gently exposed her tiara under the hood, just enough for the king to see, but not the guards aside. And he easily recognized the sign of Ahlea order on the decoration.

  The old man was completely surprised. He did not even dare to turn his view of a woman in front of him. After a short silence and hesitation, he concluded that his guards did not have enough time to react, if he would call them to act, Ahlea would pierce him first. Fear made ​​him try to save his life by agreeing to what Dlora asked of him to do:

  “My guard... leave me with the pilgrims to pray for peace.”

  The leader of the guard, a man on his right, looked at him with surprise.

  “Your Majesty, this is highly unusual and…”

  “That's an order! Get out now!”

  In a couple of seconds, all the soldiers closed the doors to the hall behind them. Dlora then stepped back a little, so the king immediately dared to say:

  “I should have guessed that assassinating me would be queen Natya’s last, desperate move to save the state. But it will not work, trust me on that! after my death, my son will…”

  “Your Majesty!” Dlora yelled out and then continued quietly “with all due respect... Shut up and hear us.”

  “Really, great Yarael, we guarantee that they are not here to kill you. You must listen to what they have to say”, said the most experienced among priestesses. The old man decided to calm down because he knew the old woman for very long and he trusted her completely. Dlora went straight to the point:

  “Our Queen could not fulfill your requirements for peace, because Tarlaeth, your precious statuette, was stolen from our castle. But the two of us managed to retain it and bring it to you.”

  “You brought the Tarlaeth? Let me see it!”

  “Well, we did, but…”

  “I want to see it! Now!”

  Dlora reached her arm under her robe and pulled out two pieces of shiny stone.

  “No!” the king screamed, “oh, no, no! The magic is lost, we are all in danger! How long had it been broken?!”

  “Well, about ...two and a half days…” Dlora was totally confused by the amount of hysterical behavior. The king continued:

  “Oh, by holy All! Quickly, we do not have much time! We need to run to the tomb of Yarael the First!”

  King took two halves of Tarlaeth and moved quickly, no matter how old his legs already were, to the narrow staircase that was located to the right of the throne and lead down to the lower levels of the castle. Two Ahleas looked at each other, and immediately pulled down the robes they were disguised under and went running after the king. They did not want to miss the explanations behind this strange story.