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reminding everyone present of his greed.
    ‘Yes, my lord.’
    As King Nelaaz waited impatiently for the messenger to enter his chamber, he felt nervous; he had warned his servants never to disturb him when he dined with guests, especially when he was being entertained by beautiful women, yet they had done so. It showed a measure of courage, but they had better have a good reason …
    ‘Your Majesty …’ said the messenger. He bowed respectfully before the king. It was quite clear that his presence was unwanted.
    ‘Come on, young man, I don’t have all day. Can’t you see I have guests waiting for me? What’s this urgent news you speak of? Hurry up; be quick.’
    ‘Her Royal Highness Princess Larsa is travelling towards your kingdom this very moment.’
    It was an unexpected delight. ‘Ah, I see she’s finally accepted my marriage proposal. Good for her. I knew she would come round to the idea. I’ve always said that a beautiful woman like her should have as many husbands as any man.’
    King Nelaaz smiled while rubbing his belly in a child-like fashion. He had asked to marry the princess on numerous occasions, but her father had always rejected his proposals, knowing him to be an unsuitable spouse. The big-bellied king already had three wives of his own, and was old enough to be Larsa’s father, but even so he remained ever hopeful that she would change her mind and fall in love with him. Perhaps she has come to her senses now that her father is dead? What if she does wish to marry me? Yes, I am certain that she does.
    ‘Well, has the princess accepted my marriage proposal or not?’ His eyes lighting up with excitement, he could not wait to hear the answer.
    ‘No, my lord, the princess has not accepted such a proposition,’ said the messenger. He watched the sweaty king sink into his throne like a goat sack deflating. The news was obviously disappointing for him; no false smile could hide his disappointment. I’m sure the princess will change her mind when she arrives. I’ll try my best to seduce her with my charms and fatten her up with my food …
    ‘If the princess doesn’t wish to marry me, what on earth causes her to come to my kingdom? It can’t be for its beauty or my hospitality; my kingdom can’t compare to her own.’
    ‘She is seeking refuge, Your Majesty; the Garden of the Gods is readying itself for war.’
    ‘War?’
    ‘Yes, Your Majesty.’
    ‘That’s impossible. No one would dare declare war against you, not with Marmicus as the kingdom’s protector – besides, all the kings of Babylon have signed a treaty of peace.’
    ‘That’s true, Your Majesty, but the enemy is not a Babylonian.’
    ‘Then who’s threatening you with war? Is it your own people? They can be ungrateful little pests.’
    Realising the nature of the question, the messenger took time to reply; he wanted to compose himself properly before he did.
    ‘Well, who’s waging war against your kingdom?’ the king repeated, impatiently. ‘Hurry up, boy! I don’t have all night – can’t you hear my guests enjoying their time without me?’
    ‘The declaration of war has come from the Assyrians, and the fall of Babylon shall follow if nothing is done to stop them.’
    ‘What? Have you gone mad?’ shrieked the king. ‘You expect me to welcome the princess into my kingdom with open arms when you’re on the brink of war with Jaquzan? Why, that’s suicide!’ He rose from his seat, panting and shaking his head vigorously; he could not believe he had wasted his energy listening to such a foolish proposition, especially when there was only one possible answer. Absolutely, indubitably, undeniably: never! ‘What indignity is this? Your kingdom will crumble into sand and you seek for mine to be buried along with it! I can’t allow that to happen! I’m a king, with a king’s throne; if I allow the princess to enter my gates I’ll become a peasant, and what man desires to wear rags on his back? No, tell the princess