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This time, Siamak felt only dull surprise at another unexpected visitor. Like moths to a candle...
"If it is that Morashk, what reason might he have for coming here?" Siamak asked his sister. "Could he have followed you?"
"He may have. It is some time since I have left, though, and I do not know how he would know to come here."
Siamak frowned. "Hm. Perhaps it is not him, then. There are many in the city who might fit that description." He heard the door open and close, and Nadda's voice talking with another. "Shall we find out?" Gjeelea assented, and Siamak led the way into the outer room.
Nadda and the other turned to them upon hearing their entrance. Siamak looked the newcomer over. He was as Nadda had described: tall, rather dark, and oily looking. No ordinary servant, Siamak thought as he noted the way the man's manner did somehow not fit with the servant's clothes he wore. He looked familiar, but then Siamak supposed he may have seen the man before: Gjeelea's wedding, perhaps, should it be Morashk. He turned a questioning look to Nadda.
"He would tell me neither his name nor his business, majesties," Nadda explained.
Siamak turned the look to the man. "Well? Who are you, and what is your business here?"
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