[Amanaduial the archer]

Zamara looked in astonishment around the room, clean, airy and devoid of black: more pleasant than her own quarters had been in several months, since her imposed withdrawal. She almost laughed, her face splitting into a grin as she turned back to Siamak and nodded enthusiastically, approving. "It is perfect, your majesty - more than perfect." She laughed, but the joyful sound was muted so as not to attract attention; a joy snuffed and muted for fear, as all now seemed to be in Pashtia. "Thank you, Siamak, thank you indeed."

The prince smiled back graciously and gave a stiff little nod to the Priestess before he turned to Nadda. "You will be in charge of the High Priestess's welfare; see that she has her meals on time and the like - but do it absolutely secretly, do you understand me?" Nadda shrunk a little before Siamak's direct, commanding tone, but nodded. "Of course, sir. But...but so many of the servants follow the old ways still-" she blurted out.

"I know, and their time to help shall come," Zamara answered swiftly. Nadda seemed about to say something before her manners when speaking to noblemen caught up with her and she shut her mouth sharply as if slightly mortified with her speaking out of turn. Zamara smiled to her and took the servant girl's hands. "Your time shall come, Nadda; but you must be patient. Do not mention my coming here to anyone, anyone at all. Only Reafin knows other than you - it must stay that way, alright? It must." Her words were urgent, but she managed to keep her desperation out of them, coming across as intense but unruffled - she hoped - as she held the girl's hands tightly in her own. Nadda nodded quickly, her eyes saucer-wide. Zamara smiled and let go, leaving Siamak to dismiss her. As the servant girl scurried away through the labyrinth of tunnels that Siamak had illuminated to them, Zamara took a deep sigh and looked around her 'new room'. As she did so, she suddenly felt such a swell of gratitude that was only matched by her weariness, and she stifled a yawn as she turned back to the royal children. But before she could speak, Gjeelea stepped in. "No more talk for now, Zamara; you must rest. And so must we, brother," she added, turning to Siamak. The prince gave her a slightly curious look but it was well masked. "You will be sleeping in the palace tonight, Gjeelea?"

The princess nodded. "I would not disturb my husband at this time," she replied, the words stiff as if they sounded false in her mouth. "I will return in the morning."

Siamak did not comment. After both her and Gjeelea had bid her good night and departed, Zamara turned back into her room and, without further ado, crossed the room to the bed and lay, exhausted with the night's adventures. The crisp, cool white covers felt exquisite against her skin as she slipped out of her thick dark cloak and then, after a moment's thoughts, out of the white robes, but even as she tried to relax in this haven, her mind kept working. Had her vanishing trick been noticed by Pashtia's 'occupiers' yet? If not, it would not be long before it was - and then what? Her trial was already a postponed death sentence, she had no doubt, and once it was found that she had mysteriously escaped and vanished into the night without a trace - why, it would no doubt simply harden the evidence in the minds of her enemies. And she seemed to have so many enemies now.

Closing her eyes tightly, Zamara sighed deeply, feeling suddenly sadness rather than anger against the city that had turned its back on her. Since the Emissary's arrival...or was it? It seemed that everything had gone downhill from there, since the building of the new temple and the death of Queen Bekah, but was it then that things had started? Maybe her downfall had begun before then and the Emissary was merely a catalyst; had her time simply come, the time for the old gods to fall?

No. No, she knew it could not be true. There were followers still, those who would stand behind her even now - Reafin, the servant who had even this night risked his job - her very life - in getting her into the palace rather than calling the patrols upon her. And the royal children - they went against their father and plotted his downfall for her safety and for the ways of life that she stood to uphold, as they themselves did. They were not moving on on the side of the Snake, corrupted as Faroz had been; they were making a stand, quietly, oh so quietly - but even the smallest whisper can make a change, even the smallest grain of rice can tip the balance. And indeed, Zamara wondered about the warmth which Gjeelea's tone had almost had when she had spoken to Siamak - it was not something that had been there before. Were things changing even at that level? In times of trouble, such small differences were all that it took to shift the pebbles, the boulders, the mountains. And to destroy the corruption of the Snake and his strange, mysterious 'one god', mountains would have to be shifted. Maybe...maybe even now, when all seemed dark, the light could yet be found, the candle yet illuminated.

There was hope for the West yet. As long as human decency strove to prevail over the darkness and unfeeling politics of those who didn't care for the state they governed; as long as there were some with backbone; as long as one voice could stand to raise another, another, another; as soon as a thousand voices stood to make a stand, brought about by one pebble shifting in the landslide... as long as faith, courage and hope remained, there was hope for the West yet.

Checking the door was locked, just in case, Zamara closed her eyes and went to sleep with the voice of a kindly goddess echoing in her thoughts.