What else did the powers say?”

A bead of sweat rolled down

Mehev’s nose, dripped to the floor.

The message had said nothing else,

but the king expected more.

“Your son,” said Mehev, frantic,

pulling words out of nowhere,

out of the agarwood fumes,

out of the dying day.

“A son of your line will spill

royal blood, king’s blood,

if you lead your army

into the Shahness Mountains.”

“Xau will die.” Vihaz beamed.

“I will go to war. And triumph.

If your words prove true,

I’ll shower you with gold.”

Mehev pressed his forehead to the tiles.

“Your Majesty is the greatest,

wisest, most generous ruler

beneath the eye of the sun.”

He lifted his head just enough

to see the king’s embroidered sandals

pivot, walk away, then pause.

Mehev dropped his head hastily.

“If your words prove lies,”

King Vihaz’s voice was soft,

“I’ll cut your balls off

and make you swallow them.”

Mehev tried to speak,

but a gulping croak emerged

before he managed to say,

“Your Majesty is great.”

And then the king was gone.

MEDDLING

Deep in her underground chamber,

the Hidden Queen, her six eyes shut,

tentacles still, opened her servants’ minds:

She was a weaver buying yarn,

a harlot oiling a soldier’s back....

... A merchant told the weaver

that King Xau fought off

five attackers (inaccurate).

The soldier told the harlot

that Xau and a bare-breasted barbarian

had sex on horseback (improbable).

Footsteps sounded.

The queen opened her eyes

as the Voice, head of her servants,

carried in a sweet-smelling pail.

The queen sighed sixfold. “Skip my bath.”

“What’s wrong? Are you ill?”

“Not ill. I tried to help King Xau,

called in favors,

fabricated a prophecy.”

The queen sighed again,

swished a tentacle in the pail.

“Centuries of limiting my meddling

to minor matters. Abandoned.”

Abandoned after the first moment

she saw war looming between Vihaz and Xau,

saw war looming and relished it—

relished the prospect

of Xau at battle,

his wits and nerve made manifest—

A darkness in her to wish for war,

a darkness she had quashed,

and interfered instead.

“Well,” said the Voice,

“it could have been worse.

At least you didn’t help Vihaz.”

The Hidden Queen laughed,

a discordant sixfold creaking.

“Thank you. Leave me for now.”

She closed her eyes,

reached for her servants,

for news of Xau.

QUESTIONS

King Xau’s soldiers took Donal’s weapons

before they let him enter the mountain fort.

Inside, Xau’s guards searched him again,

taking the dagger from his boot

and the jacket from his back.

Given what had happened,

Donal offered no protest.

Finally they led him to a square room

at the top of a turret.

Xau sat at a desk,

staring down at a map:

too thin, too pale,

the bones in his face standing out,

tunic hanging loose.

Twenty-nine years old,

but he looked like

a man of forty.

Guards, soldiers, advisors all about.

From the doorway, Donal said,

“Don’t they feed you?”

Xau’s face lit up,