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she isn’t welcome here. Quickly, go – tell her at once to return to her kingdom, wherever she may be. I will not have her here! She’s not dragging me down into her tomb.’
    ‘I understand your fears, Your Majesty, but it was at the request of the Gallant Warrior that she enters your kingdom’s gates.’
    King Nelaaz paused abruptly, his lungs wheezing with fret and worry. The messenger’s final words were chosen for a reason; the mere mention of the Gallant Warrior’s name was enough to alert any king to his obligations.
    ‘Marmicus …’ said King Nelaaz as he returned to sit on his throne. His happy mood had been shredded into pieces; even the image of servant women dancing or bathing in a pool of wine had little appeal for him. Damn the gods for cursing me with bad timing, and damn them for giving me this wretched heart of loyalty!
    ‘If I show allegiance to your kingdom, then I fear mine shall be buried alongside yours. Even so, I can’t refuse a call for help from a brave warrior like Marmicus. His Sword of Allegiance has kept my walls protected in difficult times, and without him my people would have overthrown me.’ King Nelaaz could hear his guests laughing louder and louder, while he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. ‘I know I shall live to regret this decision. Go forth quickly and tell your princess that my home is her home and that the Kingdom of Aram waits anxiously for her arrival. Quickly! Before I change my mind.’

10
    Marmicus stood, absorbing every glimpse of her silhouette, until eventually he could see her no longer. The Royal Caravan which carried the princess into self-exile had blended into the distance as if sinking into the sweeping sands of time. Only peace could unite their hearts once more – nothing else on earth.
    As Larsa held on tightly to the reins, she watched her kingdom slowly vanish, and each step taken by her camel drew her further towards an unwelcome destination. Granules of sand flew in the hot dry air, and she peered out from under her veil, the white silk fabric shielding her from the harsh winds. Everything that was beautiful about her kingdom was now disappearing into nothingness. She could see only sand, which ran on for miles, bearing no signs of life apart from rare trails made by lizards and lonely wanderers, all of whom searched for a better life. Her journey had just started, yet she felt ill-prepared. The further her Royal Caravan travelled, the more intense her feeling of loneliness became; she was not accustomed to seeing an empty horizon. This was the first time she had left the Garden of the Gods, and the sun had barely moved before she missed it greatly. It was a magical land that resembled no other, always a feast for the eyes – heavenly gardens blooming with wild flowers and fruit trees, nourished by mighty rivers. Oh, Marmicus, my love, I beg you to restore peace to our homeland so that our hearts can unite once more …

11
    As the sun laid its head to rest beneath the earth’s belly, Larsa stared out into the abyss. The desert was cloaked in darkness, with only the cold light of the moon shining upon its sands. Her servants and guardsmen had set up camp. She wished they would invite her to sit with them, but being of royal blood meant she was too noble for their company. She stared deeply into the fire, watching its flames dance to the breath of the chill wind, her beauty illuminated by the gentle glow that warmed her face. Oh, my beloved Marmicus, now at last I have entered your world and felt your pain.
    ‘You needn’t fear, Your Highness, the Kingdom of Aram doesn’t lie too far from here. We should be there soon; perhaps in two more days,’ said the Royal Commander who sat with her. He had been directly appointed by Marmicus to protect her from the nomads who travelled the desert searching for vulnerable wanderers to steal from.
    ‘Yes, but my kingdom lies far from here; that’s what grieves me. Marmicus was right – the life of