The usher arrived a few minutes later and led them to the banquet hall. As Avallach entered the hall, trumpeters signaled his arrival with a fanfare, and the herald called loudly, “King Avallach of Sarras, his wife Queen Briseis, and the princes and princess!”

The hall was bright with the light of a thousand lamps and filled with people, all talking so loudly that Charis wondered if anyone heard them announced at all. But someone did, for no sooner had they stepped across the threshold than they were intercepted by a waiting monarch who swept Avallach into a firm embrace.

“Belyn!” cried Avallach. “It is good to see you. When did you arrive?”

“Yesterday. Was your journey enjoyable?”

“Tolerable… It is so dry. We traveled with Seithenin.”

Belyn lowered his voice. “Is he with us?”

Avallach nodded. “Solidly.”

“Good.” Belyn clapped Avallach on the shoulder and turned to the queen. “Briseis, I did not mean to slight you.”

He leaned close and they exchanged kisses. “I am delighted to see you too.”

“Do not apologize, Belyn. It is too late to change who you are.” She glanced at Avallach. “You are just like your brother.”

Belyn laughed. “We are found out, Avallach. The woman knows us too well.”

“You are not alone, Belyn?” asked Briseis, gazing out over the milling throng. “I do not see Elaine. She is here, I trust.”

“Ah, sadly she must remain in her room this evening.”

“I am sorry to miss her. Is she feeling well?”

“Well enough. In truth, I tried to discourage her from coming. She insisted, though the birth is imminent. She said that she would benefit more from fresh air and stimulating company than from sitting alone in a stuffy palace awaiting my return. If she births the baby in a field beside the road, so much the better-so she tells me.” He gave a helpless shrug.

“Tell her I will call on her tomorrow. Perhaps she would enjoy a walk in the garden-if that would not tax her overmuch.”

“She will welcome it.” Belyn turned to the others clustered around. “And who have we here? Kian, Maildun, greetings; Eoinn, Guistan, what young men you have become. I’m glad all of you have come; we will have to spend some time riding together, eh? Perhaps tomorrow afternoon.” The princes chorused their approval of the plan at once.

Belyn’s eyes fell on Charis. “And Charis, my little dove.” He hugged her and tugged on a ribbon. “Not so little anymore, I see. Watch her, Avallach; she will be stealing hearts before this night is through.”

Charis thought this jovial banter odd, considering Belyn and Elaine had visited only days before they had left for Po-seidonis. Before she could remark on it, however, their usher returned to lead them to their table, saying, “The High King will be making his entrance soon… Would you like to be seated?”

“Yes, go on,” said Belyn, “I am going to my table now. We will talk tomorrow.”

Avallach and his family wound their way through the tangle of guests to a raised table-one of nine which were set aside for the kings and their immediate families. Charis, sitting next to her mother, who occupied the place at the king’s right hand, listened as her father named the others gathered in the hall.

“There is Hugaderan of Hespera… He stares this way but pretends not to see me; I expect as much from him,” said Avallach. “And over there sits stony Musaeus with his advisors; I have never once seen him smile.” He shifted his gaze. “Oh, and Itazais of Alilia, looking bored and out of sorts-as if it were beneath him to appear in this company. Next to him, over there, Meirchion of Skatha; now there is a man who knows how to listen to reason.”

Avallach paused and swiveled around. “I do not see Nestor anywhere; surely he does not intend arriving after the High King has entered.”

“Perhaps he will not attend tonight,” said Briseis.

“Ah, Seithenin has just come in. I tell you, Briseis, I am liking that man more and more. Given time, he could become a second brother to me.”

A few moments later, the trumpeters blew a high, dazzling fanfare and the herald announced loudly, “King Ceremon, High King of the Nine Kingdoms, and his wife, Queen Da-nea.”

The room fell silent. The kings and their parties stood as the High King entered, the queen by his side. They were arrayed alike in fine alizarin silk, with gold embroidery at cuffs and hem. Ceremon wore a short gold cloak and gilded boots, and on his head a golden circlet with a sun disk over his brow. Danea wore gilded sandals and a simple circlet of gold; her auburn hair was pulled back and the braid bound with gold rings. Her sleeveless cloak trailed after, its gold-worked border sweeping the floor.

They walked slowly through the hall to their places at the high table, greeting others as they passed. They came near to Avallach’s table and Avallach bowed courteously. “Welcome, King Avallach,” said Ceremon, inclining his head. “Queen Briseis, I am glad you chose to accompany your husband. We have not had the pleasure of your presence in the palace for some time. Welcome, all of you.”

The High King made to move on, when his gaze fell on Charis. He paused and turned to her. “And who is this? Avallach, I did not know you had a daughter.” He reached out a slender hand and raised her chin. “What is your name, bright one?”

“Charis, Sire,” she answered.

Ceremon smiled, his eyes bright and hard. “Charis… a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Welcome, Charis. I hope you find time to see our great city.”

Charis bowed, and when she looked up again the High King was gone. She saw him walking slowly away, erect, slender, cloak shimmering in the light, and thought that she had never seen anyone so regal, so commanding. “He is a very god,” she whispered to her mother.

Brriseis glanced at her daughter but did not reply. Charis became, embarrassed then and blushed crimson. The banquet proceeded-served by hundreds of servants bearing platters of food and drink, circulating continuously throughout the hall-but Charis did not taste a bite. She stared at the High King and his wife and imagined herself in the queen’s place, looking as serene and majestic as the High Queen herself.

There was entertainment after the meal: a swarming army of musicians performed traditional songs while a chorus sang. Charis was certain she had entered a dream. The resplendent hall, the dignified guests, the formal music welling up and up, and the imperial presence of the High King-all combined to give the banquet a dreamlike quality. So much so that Charis was surprised and distinctly disappointed when it came time to leave.

It seemed as if the evening had taken wings and fled in an instant. Dazzled and entranced by her experience, Charis all but floated back to her room. In a daze she readied herself for bed and slipped beneath the crisp linens and drifted off to sleep, the High King’s voice still falling in her ears: “Charis… a beautiful name for a beautiful girl…”