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Shra-Ka-Reen (The Novel) Chapter One
Shra-Ka-Reen
Tall the towers of Shra-Ka-Reen
With glittering silver, diamonds and gold
Inlaid upon the towering ebony stones
Graceful minarets standing since days of old
Ancient symbols of ages past
Chapter One
Faryd stood watching the messenger ride away while scratching a grizzled three-day
growth of beard. Deep in thought, he wondered. Great was the rejoicing last eve. Gossip said the
long awaited Prince, son of the great Warrior-King and the beloved Priestess-Queen had at last
returned. Personally, he didn’t give much credence to that, as he’d never seen the Prince his whole
life. “Sheep dung!” he spat, then, thinking deeper, he had to admit he could be wrong. He
remembered his father’s father talking about the prince. Course, that didn’t mean much; Gramps
was a wretched old cuss, an ex-trader. It was bandied about that he would have sold his son if he
thought he could get a fair price for him.
“Ah!” he exclaimed aloud. A thought had been nagging at the back of his mind and he
had kept worrying it as does a dog a bone. When finally it surfaced, he was most pleased with
himself. The teachers had all said the Royal family was immortal. It is said their reign lies
unbroken for near 400 years! “Preposterous!” he again spat, the word exploding like a pine tree
struck by lightning. Still, he had seen her highness, Lenara, at least once a week at the market for
nigh on 60 years and she looked not a day older than when he first laid eyes on her.
“Pig Swill.” He said, “This isn’t getting the work done”. He turned and walked back
into the old cottage. Inside he went about his breakfast as he thought on the summons the
messenger had brought. ‘Now why do you suppose they’d invite a sheepherder to feast at the
castle” he muttered. The old cat that shared his quarters just looked at him and said nothing.
“Bah! This makes about as much sense as inviting a skunk to bed with you at night!”
As he drove the sheep out to pasture his thoughts kept nagging him; could
grandfather’s old stories be true, could the Prince have actually been apprenticed to him for
awhile. The Earth-Mother only knows how the old man had accumulated enough wealth to own
such an extent of property. Though not wealthy by any means, they made a good living off the
land and had never gone hungry. "Why?” He asked the sheep, “why am I summoned to a feast at
the Castle of Tears?” “Grandfather’s long dead, my father several years in his grave, wife dead of
the fever. What have I done to be summoned?” “Why would they want a lowly sheep herder?” He
grumbled, but secretly was pleased, no matter what; it was a break in the tedium. Just maybe
Grandfather wasn’t a crazy old man after all.
Faryd awakened early. Shivering in the early morning chill, he put on his slippers and threw
on a robe. Slowly he made his way across the room and stirred the banked coals in the fireplace.
Adding some wood, he soon had a cheery fire going. He slid a pot of millet on the hook and put a
pot of water on to warm, then went about his morning toilet. Pouring the hot water in a bowl, he
proceeded to soap his face. Taking his favorite shaving knife from its oilskin wrapping, he carefully
scraped off his beard. Finished, he rinsed his face, spread a little oil on to soothe it and carefully
put away the knife. As he finished and was ladling hot millet into a couple of bowls, his grandson
arrived. A strapping young lad of twelve and serious beyond his years, the old man smiled a
greeting. As they ate, he outlined the work that needed done while he was away. He knew he could
trust the boy to take good care of everything.
Faryd went back to his room and opened the old chest by the bed. Taking out his best
suit of clothes, he packed them in the carrying bag carefully. He proceeded to put on his worn, but
sturdy old boots. Then slowly, from the bottom of the chest, he removed an old sword wrapped in
oilskin. Belting it on, he took out a dagger and placed it in a sheath on his side. Another, he
carefully slid into the sheath built into his boot. At the door he retrieved his oak staff, straight and
stout, worn smooth by many years of use. Outside he made a few practice spins with it, before
using it as a walking stick. He started on his way. As he stepped onto the dusty old trail, the sun
was just peeking over the hills. Several hours and many miles later he passed a group of soldiers
and a caravan just setting out from Shra-Ka-Reen.
Faryd couldn’t resist delaying in the square and watching the merchants as they
hawked their wares. He was always fascinated by the intricate customs of the deals. He loved the
square; savory smells from the food-vendors stalls, spices from far-off places, brightly colored
cloths and exotic weapons and goods all were interesting. Looking up, he saw the Priestess-Queen
as she oft was, standing on the balcony overseeing the trading. A man stumbled into him almost
knocking him down. Immediately, the two of them were surrounded by soldiers from the Queen’s
Guard. Faryd was frightened, wondering what he had done. The Guard-Captain stepped forward
and winking at Faryd, turned to the other man and said.”Gentle sir, would you like to return the
man’s purse and leave, or would you prefer to face Master Sorl at the Judging Booth?”
The man bowed reluctantly and handed him his purse then hastily disappeared. “You have to
watch the cut-purses and other thieves.” The Guard-Captain said. Faryd thanked him and tried to
offer him a few coins which the Captain declined, then headed toward the castle.
Looking up at the broad steps leading to the entrance he was stuck for the first time at
the quality of the work. The stones were fitted with an unbelievable precision. There was no way
he could poke his knife blade into any of the cracks. Not only was this virtually impossible, but the
stone was of a color and harness he had never see. His Gramp’s words came back to him.
“Shra-Ka-Reen is like no city on earth. I have been many places in my travels, but none come close
to her beauty and grace.” Faryd looked at the gold and silver inlays in the stone. Something was
odd about them. Not only the design, but they seemed to reside behind a glass-like coating.
Looking up he could see the graceful curve of the minaret soaring into the sky until at last it came
to a point far above. It looked almost like a needle piercing the heavens. Approaching the guards
at the entrance he was struck by how narrow it was when compared to the broad sweeping steps.
He knew that elsewhere there were larger doors that were rarely opened although this was the
main entrance. Thinking hard it made a kind of sense as it would be very hard for more than one
or two people at a time to force their way in so security was satisfied with just a couple of guards.
“Halt!” the guard ordered. Faryd, shivering somewhat in awe and apprehension showed them his
invitation which he dearly hoped was not some mischief perpetrated on him. After close
examination, the guards conferred quietly and one of them stepped through that strange oval
shaped door, Faryd stood there trembling and finally gathered enough courage to ask. “Sir, is
there a problem? Have I been steered false?” The guard looked at him sternly and said. “Just stand
there and shut up, we’ll know in a moment.” Faryd’s heart froze in his chest and he almost fainted
on the spot. Somehow he managed to keep standing although his hand slowly moved toward his
sword one miniscule movement at a time. What he thought that might accomplish he didn’t know,
but he would be damned if he would quietly give up. Slight as the movement was, the guard
spotted it and grabbed for his own steel. Fast as the guard was Faryd was faster and had his
sword at the guards throat before his steel cleared scabbard. While Faryd was trying to decide
what to do, the other guard returned. He stopped just inside the door looking at the two men.”
What’s happening here?” he asked. Faryd, gathering his courage glanced at him and said through
clenched teeth, “He went for steel and I will not be held at sword point if I have been played false!”
The second guard shook his head. “Radyl has always been a bit quick to jump the wrong way.
Sometimes I despair of him ever getting past being a common guard. Forgive his mistake sir, your
papers are in order and you are welcome. The King and Queen are very anxious to see you.” Faryd
sheathed his sword and stepped inside.
The room was strange in many ways. He expected to see hanging draperies and rich tapestries, but
Instead there were walls starkly bare. One thing that caught his attention immediately was the fact that the air was much cooler inside. This didn’t seem too out of the ordinary except looking back at the door, he noticed the walls were not as thick as first appeared. He cautiously reached out and ran his hand along the smooth wall noting there were no pits, scratches or joints and the wall seemed to be very smooth. He glanced around nervously, but the guard bade him follow. They entered a small circular room with a staircase ascending from the center. Faryd began to shake at that point and he was unsure if his legs would support him. Such a staircase he had never seen. It was made all of metal that shone as bright as the polished edge of a sword. It wound round and round a central pole and as he looked up it passed walkway upon walkway until he could not see the top.
“May the Gods show mercy upon my soul” he muttered under his breath.
“What was that?” The guard asked.
“Nothing” he muttered.
“Follow me”. The guard turned and started up the winding stairway. Faryd had no choice but to follow or to run like the child he was feeling like at the moment. Up and up they wound past two, three, four levels with Faryd’s apprehension growing with each step. At the fifth level Faryd followed the guard across the short walkway to another of the strange, oval shaped doors. He waved his hand in front of an odd looking row of dots and the door opened. By now Faryd was shaking like a leaf in a wind and sweat was running down into his eyes They were as wide as a frightened horse and he looked every bit as scared. Stepping through the door at the bidding of the guard, Faryd found himself in a richly appointed room. The cold barren walls were covered in silk and velvet curtains with woven tapestries showing wondrous scenes. There were chairs and couches upholstered in leather and shimmering cloth that looked like silk but felt like the softest wool. Looking around he noticed a table set with golden dishes and goblets and smelled the aroma of savory foods he had only heard about.
A tall, muscular man dressed in what looked like woven silver with a crimson cape about his shoulders turned and smiled. The woman who stood looking out upon a balcony, then turned and smiling, she walked toward him, her hands held out palm up in welcome. Faryd fell to his knees as he realized this was the Priestess-Queen and the man in the cape could only be the Warrior-King.
Never in his wildest dreams did he actually think he would be with them in their chambers. He was convinced that the dinner he was invited to was a state affair and there would be hundreds there. With luck he might get a glimpse of them.
“Rise Faryd, there is no need to kneel in our presence. Your family has long been friends to ours”.Her melodious voice floated to his ears.
“Come, come, man, stand, you are among friends here”! The man spoke for the first time.
Faryd did not know what to do. He tried to speak, but his voice came out as a squeak, clearing his throat he tried again. “My Lord, my Lady, what do you need of me? How may I be of service to you”? Faryd got out in a rush as he shakily regained his feet.
“Come Faryd, sit, let’s eat something and talk. It is high time we got acquainted”. Pulling out a chair the man pushed Faryd down into it, then held the chair for his Lady-Wife. She smiled and laid a gentle hand on his then motioned him to sit.
Faryd was trembling so hard he didn’t trust himself to try to pick up the eating tools. The Lady smiled at him, “Relax, you are among friends Faryd. There is no need for fear or of being formal. I am Lenara and this is my husband Trelhaylen. We knew your great grandfather, your grandfather and your father, but have been remiss in getting to know you. We are sorry it has taken so long, but things have been so hectic as of late”. Faryd just stared at them as if they had told him his nephew had died. “Then it’s true?” he replied in a quavering voice. “My grandfather was not just a crazy old man?”
“No, he was quite a good merchant and a trustworthy one to watch your back. He and his father before him were indispensible to us”. Trelhaylen said.
Lenara laughed, a tinkling sound like small bells shaken in dance. “Faryd, do relax; you look like a man expecting to be hung on the ‘morrow.”
“Forgive me your highness, I don’t know how I should act. You say you have known my family for all these centuries, but I don’t understand how this can be.”
Trelhaylen, slapped the table and said, “I knew we should have kept more in touch, but the years have been so busy. Faryd, my people are long lived and this is sometimes a drawback as our birthrate is also very low. Usually we have only one or two children in our lifetime so we consider life most precious. Your people, forgive me for saying this, breed like flies and families of 10 or more children is not unheard of. Although your lifespan is measured in the 100 to 120 years, your population increase is way beyond that. We seek to discover why and to have you join with our people. If this means giving up a few centuries of lifespan, so be it. Our people are very slowly, but just as surely decreasing in number and by all counts will reach critical in about 8,000 years.”
In spite of himself, and forgetting where he was Faryd spit out the mouthful of wine he has just taken into his mouth. “Sheep dung! You expect me to believe this? I’d rather believe my horse can walk on two feet and discuss the phases of the moon!” Then, remembering where he was, he lowered his head and softly spoke, “Forgive me your majesties, I forgot myself.”
Lenara spoke in a gentle voice while laying her hand on his. “Faryd, I can see this is all coming at you too fast. We’re sorry, but time is pressing and we need you to understand and to do something very important for us.” She turned to her husband and he laid a large book within her hands and smiled. She handed the book to Faryd, who took it in his trembling hands.
Faryd, This belonged to your great grandfather and your grandfather and was passed down to your father. It is now yours and will always stay with you and your family. After you have read through it, then must you return to us. The guards know you now and you will have no trouble when you return. Go now and take the book. When you have assimilated all within, return and we will discuss your task.” With an air of dismissal, they both turned and walked out onto the balcony and Faryd reluctantly turned to go.
Clutching the book tightly, he descended the long circular stairway and passed out of the palace and into the crowd below.
End of Chapter One
Tall the towers of Shra-Ka-Reen
With glittering silver, diamonds and gold
Inlaid upon the towering ebony stones
Graceful minarets standing since days of old
Ancient symbols of ages past
Chapter One
Faryd stood watching the messenger ride away while scratching a grizzled three-day
growth of beard. Deep in thought, he wondered. Great was the rejoicing last eve. Gossip said the
long awaited Prince, son of the great Warrior-King and the beloved Priestess-Queen had at last
returned. Personally, he didn’t give much credence to that, as he’d never seen the Prince his whole
life. “Sheep dung!” he spat, then, thinking deeper, he had to admit he could be wrong. He
remembered his father’s father talking about the prince. Course, that didn’t mean much; Gramps
was a wretched old cuss, an ex-trader. It was bandied about that he would have sold his son if he
thought he could get a fair price for him.
“Ah!” he exclaimed aloud. A thought had been nagging at the back of his mind and he
had kept worrying it as does a dog a bone. When finally it surfaced, he was most pleased with
himself. The teachers had all said the Royal family was immortal. It is said their reign lies
unbroken for near 400 years! “Preposterous!” he again spat, the word exploding like a pine tree
struck by lightning. Still, he had seen her highness, Lenara, at least once a week at the market for
nigh on 60 years and she looked not a day older than when he first laid eyes on her.
“Pig Swill.” He said, “This isn’t getting the work done”. He turned and walked back
into the old cottage. Inside he went about his breakfast as he thought on the summons the
messenger had brought. ‘Now why do you suppose they’d invite a sheepherder to feast at the
castle” he muttered. The old cat that shared his quarters just looked at him and said nothing.
“Bah! This makes about as much sense as inviting a skunk to bed with you at night!”
As he drove the sheep out to pasture his thoughts kept nagging him; could
grandfather’s old stories be true, could the Prince have actually been apprenticed to him for
awhile. The Earth-Mother only knows how the old man had accumulated enough wealth to own
such an extent of property. Though not wealthy by any means, they made a good living off the
land and had never gone hungry. "Why?” He asked the sheep, “why am I summoned to a feast at
the Castle of Tears?” “Grandfather’s long dead, my father several years in his grave, wife dead of
the fever. What have I done to be summoned?” “Why would they want a lowly sheep herder?” He
grumbled, but secretly was pleased, no matter what; it was a break in the tedium. Just maybe
Grandfather wasn’t a crazy old man after all.
Faryd awakened early. Shivering in the early morning chill, he put on his slippers and threw
on a robe. Slowly he made his way across the room and stirred the banked coals in the fireplace.
Adding some wood, he soon had a cheery fire going. He slid a pot of millet on the hook and put a
pot of water on to warm, then went about his morning toilet. Pouring the hot water in a bowl, he
proceeded to soap his face. Taking his favorite shaving knife from its oilskin wrapping, he carefully
scraped off his beard. Finished, he rinsed his face, spread a little oil on to soothe it and carefully
put away the knife. As he finished and was ladling hot millet into a couple of bowls, his grandson
arrived. A strapping young lad of twelve and serious beyond his years, the old man smiled a
greeting. As they ate, he outlined the work that needed done while he was away. He knew he could
trust the boy to take good care of everything.
Faryd went back to his room and opened the old chest by the bed. Taking out his best
suit of clothes, he packed them in the carrying bag carefully. He proceeded to put on his worn, but
sturdy old boots. Then slowly, from the bottom of the chest, he removed an old sword wrapped in
oilskin. Belting it on, he took out a dagger and placed it in a sheath on his side. Another, he
carefully slid into the sheath built into his boot. At the door he retrieved his oak staff, straight and
stout, worn smooth by many years of use. Outside he made a few practice spins with it, before
using it as a walking stick. He started on his way. As he stepped onto the dusty old trail, the sun
was just peeking over the hills. Several hours and many miles later he passed a group of soldiers
and a caravan just setting out from Shra-Ka-Reen.
Faryd couldn’t resist delaying in the square and watching the merchants as they
hawked their wares. He was always fascinated by the intricate customs of the deals. He loved the
square; savory smells from the food-vendors stalls, spices from far-off places, brightly colored
cloths and exotic weapons and goods all were interesting. Looking up, he saw the Priestess-Queen
as she oft was, standing on the balcony overseeing the trading. A man stumbled into him almost
knocking him down. Immediately, the two of them were surrounded by soldiers from the Queen’s
Guard. Faryd was frightened, wondering what he had done. The Guard-Captain stepped forward
and winking at Faryd, turned to the other man and said.”Gentle sir, would you like to return the
man’s purse and leave, or would you prefer to face Master Sorl at the Judging Booth?”
The man bowed reluctantly and handed him his purse then hastily disappeared. “You have to
watch the cut-purses and other thieves.” The Guard-Captain said. Faryd thanked him and tried to
offer him a few coins which the Captain declined, then headed toward the castle.
Looking up at the broad steps leading to the entrance he was stuck for the first time at
the quality of the work. The stones were fitted with an unbelievable precision. There was no way
he could poke his knife blade into any of the cracks. Not only was this virtually impossible, but the
stone was of a color and harness he had never see. His Gramp’s words came back to him.
“Shra-Ka-Reen is like no city on earth. I have been many places in my travels, but none come close
to her beauty and grace.” Faryd looked at the gold and silver inlays in the stone. Something was
odd about them. Not only the design, but they seemed to reside behind a glass-like coating.
Looking up he could see the graceful curve of the minaret soaring into the sky until at last it came
to a point far above. It looked almost like a needle piercing the heavens. Approaching the guards
at the entrance he was struck by how narrow it was when compared to the broad sweeping steps.
He knew that elsewhere there were larger doors that were rarely opened although this was the
main entrance. Thinking hard it made a kind of sense as it would be very hard for more than one
or two people at a time to force their way in so security was satisfied with just a couple of guards.
“Halt!” the guard ordered. Faryd, shivering somewhat in awe and apprehension showed them his
invitation which he dearly hoped was not some mischief perpetrated on him. After close
examination, the guards conferred quietly and one of them stepped through that strange oval
shaped door, Faryd stood there trembling and finally gathered enough courage to ask. “Sir, is
there a problem? Have I been steered false?” The guard looked at him sternly and said. “Just stand
there and shut up, we’ll know in a moment.” Faryd’s heart froze in his chest and he almost fainted
on the spot. Somehow he managed to keep standing although his hand slowly moved toward his
sword one miniscule movement at a time. What he thought that might accomplish he didn’t know,
but he would be damned if he would quietly give up. Slight as the movement was, the guard
spotted it and grabbed for his own steel. Fast as the guard was Faryd was faster and had his
sword at the guards throat before his steel cleared scabbard. While Faryd was trying to decide
what to do, the other guard returned. He stopped just inside the door looking at the two men.”
What’s happening here?” he asked. Faryd, gathering his courage glanced at him and said through
clenched teeth, “He went for steel and I will not be held at sword point if I have been played false!”
The second guard shook his head. “Radyl has always been a bit quick to jump the wrong way.
Sometimes I despair of him ever getting past being a common guard. Forgive his mistake sir, your
papers are in order and you are welcome. The King and Queen are very anxious to see you.” Faryd
sheathed his sword and stepped inside.
The room was strange in many ways. He expected to see hanging draperies and rich tapestries, but
Instead there were walls starkly bare. One thing that caught his attention immediately was the fact that the air was much cooler inside. This didn’t seem too out of the ordinary except looking back at the door, he noticed the walls were not as thick as first appeared. He cautiously reached out and ran his hand along the smooth wall noting there were no pits, scratches or joints and the wall seemed to be very smooth. He glanced around nervously, but the guard bade him follow. They entered a small circular room with a staircase ascending from the center. Faryd began to shake at that point and he was unsure if his legs would support him. Such a staircase he had never seen. It was made all of metal that shone as bright as the polished edge of a sword. It wound round and round a central pole and as he looked up it passed walkway upon walkway until he could not see the top.
“May the Gods show mercy upon my soul” he muttered under his breath.
“What was that?” The guard asked.
“Nothing” he muttered.
“Follow me”. The guard turned and started up the winding stairway. Faryd had no choice but to follow or to run like the child he was feeling like at the moment. Up and up they wound past two, three, four levels with Faryd’s apprehension growing with each step. At the fifth level Faryd followed the guard across the short walkway to another of the strange, oval shaped doors. He waved his hand in front of an odd looking row of dots and the door opened. By now Faryd was shaking like a leaf in a wind and sweat was running down into his eyes They were as wide as a frightened horse and he looked every bit as scared. Stepping through the door at the bidding of the guard, Faryd found himself in a richly appointed room. The cold barren walls were covered in silk and velvet curtains with woven tapestries showing wondrous scenes. There were chairs and couches upholstered in leather and shimmering cloth that looked like silk but felt like the softest wool. Looking around he noticed a table set with golden dishes and goblets and smelled the aroma of savory foods he had only heard about.
A tall, muscular man dressed in what looked like woven silver with a crimson cape about his shoulders turned and smiled. The woman who stood looking out upon a balcony, then turned and smiling, she walked toward him, her hands held out palm up in welcome. Faryd fell to his knees as he realized this was the Priestess-Queen and the man in the cape could only be the Warrior-King.
Never in his wildest dreams did he actually think he would be with them in their chambers. He was convinced that the dinner he was invited to was a state affair and there would be hundreds there. With luck he might get a glimpse of them.
“Rise Faryd, there is no need to kneel in our presence. Your family has long been friends to ours”.Her melodious voice floated to his ears.
“Come, come, man, stand, you are among friends here”! The man spoke for the first time.
Faryd did not know what to do. He tried to speak, but his voice came out as a squeak, clearing his throat he tried again. “My Lord, my Lady, what do you need of me? How may I be of service to you”? Faryd got out in a rush as he shakily regained his feet.
“Come Faryd, sit, let’s eat something and talk. It is high time we got acquainted”. Pulling out a chair the man pushed Faryd down into it, then held the chair for his Lady-Wife. She smiled and laid a gentle hand on his then motioned him to sit.
Faryd was trembling so hard he didn’t trust himself to try to pick up the eating tools. The Lady smiled at him, “Relax, you are among friends Faryd. There is no need for fear or of being formal. I am Lenara and this is my husband Trelhaylen. We knew your great grandfather, your grandfather and your father, but have been remiss in getting to know you. We are sorry it has taken so long, but things have been so hectic as of late”. Faryd just stared at them as if they had told him his nephew had died. “Then it’s true?” he replied in a quavering voice. “My grandfather was not just a crazy old man?”
“No, he was quite a good merchant and a trustworthy one to watch your back. He and his father before him were indispensible to us”. Trelhaylen said.
Lenara laughed, a tinkling sound like small bells shaken in dance. “Faryd, do relax; you look like a man expecting to be hung on the ‘morrow.”
“Forgive me your highness, I don’t know how I should act. You say you have known my family for all these centuries, but I don’t understand how this can be.”
Trelhaylen, slapped the table and said, “I knew we should have kept more in touch, but the years have been so busy. Faryd, my people are long lived and this is sometimes a drawback as our birthrate is also very low. Usually we have only one or two children in our lifetime so we consider life most precious. Your people, forgive me for saying this, breed like flies and families of 10 or more children is not unheard of. Although your lifespan is measured in the 100 to 120 years, your population increase is way beyond that. We seek to discover why and to have you join with our people. If this means giving up a few centuries of lifespan, so be it. Our people are very slowly, but just as surely decreasing in number and by all counts will reach critical in about 8,000 years.”
In spite of himself, and forgetting where he was Faryd spit out the mouthful of wine he has just taken into his mouth. “Sheep dung! You expect me to believe this? I’d rather believe my horse can walk on two feet and discuss the phases of the moon!” Then, remembering where he was, he lowered his head and softly spoke, “Forgive me your majesties, I forgot myself.”
Lenara spoke in a gentle voice while laying her hand on his. “Faryd, I can see this is all coming at you too fast. We’re sorry, but time is pressing and we need you to understand and to do something very important for us.” She turned to her husband and he laid a large book within her hands and smiled. She handed the book to Faryd, who took it in his trembling hands.
Faryd, This belonged to your great grandfather and your grandfather and was passed down to your father. It is now yours and will always stay with you and your family. After you have read through it, then must you return to us. The guards know you now and you will have no trouble when you return. Go now and take the book. When you have assimilated all within, return and we will discuss your task.” With an air of dismissal, they both turned and walked out onto the balcony and Faryd reluctantly turned to go.
Clutching the book tightly, he descended the long circular stairway and passed out of the palace and into the crowd below.
End of Chapter One