“They jabber and drool and sniff one another’s armpits, and they all pretend they know what they are doing. They pick the boils on their worthless hides and grin their insufferable, know-nothing grins… And the lies, Charis, the lies! Lies ooze from their mouths like pus from a running wound.”

“They refuse to say what you want to hear, in other words”

“They disgrace their holy office with their very presence. They pule and moan and roll their eyes at the slightest hint of a genuine thought. Bah! I am done with them.” ‘ “If they are the lizards you profess them to be, why do you care what they think or do? Why bother with them at all?”

Annubi’s mouth made a straight line. He started to speak but bit back the words.

“There, you see? You are just tired and angry. Come back to the palace and have something to eat. You will feel better.”

Annubi looked at her-hair shimmering like white gold in the early morning light, bright eyes full of life, finely-shaped limbs tan from her hours in the sun-and nodded his head. “May you never lack for light, bright one,” he told her.

They walked for a few minutes more in silence and then returned to the royal apartments where the table had been laid and food was being served. Charis took her place and helped herself to fresh figs and warm flatbread. Annubi lingered in the doorway, staring at the table and those gathered around it. Briseis saw him and rose slowly to her feet. An unspoken question passed between them, for the seer answered with a slight shake of his head. Briseis only nodded. “Come, Annubi, have something to eat,” she said softly.

“The king has already gone, and Kian with him. We have time, though. Sit with us.”

Annubi stumbled forward and sank into a chair at the table. A plate of dates, fruit, and soft cheese was offered to him by a servant. He stared at the plate and then shook his head. The servant moved on.

“Annubi has been to see the Magi,” announced Charis. “He says they behaved like venomous lizards.”

“Lizards!” laughed Maildun.

“Tell us, what did they say?” asked Eoinn.

“Yes, tell us!” Guistan said.

“Leave Annubi alone,” Briseis coaxed. “He has been working very hard and he is tired.”

“Did they show you any secrets?” Maildun asked.

“Did they tell you the future?” Eoinn wondered.

“Tell us!” demanded Guistan.

Annubi glared sullenly at his eager audience and muttered, “The Magi told me that unbridled curiosity would be the sad undoing of three young princes from Sarras.”

“They would never say that!” huffed Maildun.

“Liar!” cried Guistan.

“Boys!” snapped Briseis. “That is enough. You may leave.”

The princes jumped up from the table and clattered from the room. Briseis sighed softly. “I am sorry, Annubi. It seems they grow more uncouth daily.”

Annubi looked cross, but shrugged and said, “They are young and life has no limits. Nothing is impossible, nothing beyond doing or knowing. The world is theirs and everything in it. Let them go… let them go.”

“It is hard to imagine I ever felt like that,” Briseis replied. “Still, I suppose I did.”

“Oh, you did-we all did… once. It passes,” Annubi observed, and added, “Nothing lasts forever.”

Charis saw the worry lines on the seer’s face and realized it had been a long time since she had seen him smile. She shifted her gaze to her mother and an image flashed in her mind: the queen and the seer standing together among the pillars, her mother’s hand on his sleeve, the odd, strained expression as she moved away. It was the same expression the queen wore now.

“No, nothing lasts forever,” Briseis agreed, straightening her shoulders. She raised her head, smiling thinly, eyes shining.

Annubi climbed slowly to his feet. “I smell of blood and incense. I must go bathe and change my clothes,” he said.

“Rest, Annubi. Join us later if you wish.”

He paused, then assented. “Very well, I will join you at the court.”

The king’s advisor turned and walked to the door, stopped and turned back. “It is not certain.” He barked a bitter laugh. “Nothing is ever certain. I have learned that, at least.”

“Go now; rest. We will talk later. Oh, Annubi?” He looked at her with his tired eyes. “Thank you,” she said simply.

The seer inclined his head and bowed, making the sign of the sun. “Portents are ever false messengers,” he replied. “May it be so now.”

Charis thought the exchange extremely odd. When Annubi had gone she asked, “Mother, what is it? What is wrong?”

The queen did not answer but held out her arms instead. Charis leaned into her mother’s embrace. “Charis,” Briseis whispered, her mouth against her daughter’s hair, “there is so much you have to learn… so little time.”

“But what is it?”

Briseis paused- so long that Charis thought her mother had not heard- then held her out at arm’s length. “Listen,” she said, her voice thick and hushed. “Charis, my soul, I love you. Do you understand?”

Mystified, Charis swallowed hard. “I love you, too. But – “

“Do not ask, my darling.” The queen shook her head slowly. “Love is all, Charis. Remember that. “

Charis nodded and buried her face in the hollow of her mother’s neck, felt her mother’s hands stroking her gently. “Now then,” said Briseis after a moment, “it is time to go. Elaine is to meet us at the entrance to the temple. Are you ready? ‘ ‘

Charis nodded, dabbing away the tear that had squeezed out from under her lashes. “I am ready.” They went out to join the others and make their way to the temple where the ‘Rites of Kingship would take place.

There were four courts in the Temple of the Sun, one above another, the pillars of each made from a different metal: bronze for the lowest court, brass for the one above it, gold for the next, and orichalcum for the highest. It was in the highest court that the kings gathered to make obeisance to Bel and renew their vows of kingship by participating in the ancient rites.

Eight kings and the High King, each wearing simple mantles of unbleached linen, entered the court and gathered around a giant brazier filled with glowing coals. The High Mage stood before the brazier and other Magi arranged themselves accordingly, two behind each king.

When all was made ready, the High Mage made the sun sign with his hands in the air and cried an invocation to Bel in a high, breaking voice. Then his hands swirled in the air and he nodded to the Magi, who put their hands on the kings’ shoulders. “Power is an earthly garment,” intoned the High Mage. “What is put on can be stripped away.”

As these words were spoken a tremendous tearing sound filled the court when the Magi seized the kings’ mantles and ripped them to the hem and cast the pieces to the floor. The kings stepped naked from the rags of their clothing and drew near to the brazier where they stood with hands extended. The High Mage lifted a large alabaster jar and poured it over the coals. The burning coals sputtered and aromatic steam rolled to the domed vault of the chamber.

“Let the god’s breath cleanse you,” said the priest. He produced a hyssop bough and held it in the steam for a moment and then began to move among the kings, striking them with the bough, first on the hands and arms and then over the chest and shoulders, back, buttocks, and thighs. The kings breathed the steam deep into their lungs and endured the lashings in silence.

When the High Mage had completed his circuit, he returned to his place and motioned for the calyx to be brought forth. Two Magi came forward bearing the huge vessel between them, and another Mage brought a long-handled ladle. Dipping the ladle into the calyx, the High Mage raised it over the head of the High King, who lowered his head as the High Mage poured the contents of the ladle over him, dipping now and again until the king’s skin gleamed with the golden oil.