CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Pendant of Power

Arwen knew she had searched only a small portion of ships in the harbor of Zin Zaraboob. Yet by the end of the day she felt certain that Queen Zuleika was not smuggling weapons or supplies to Sauron. The search had been strenuous, and her helpers had been thorough in spite of the scorching heat.

"Good Captain Margo, thank you for all your help." The tall, raven-haired elf-maiden tripped lightly down the gangplank of the small cargo ship, pleased to see that the curtained litter was waiting to carry her back to the royal palace.

"Think nothing of it, Princess Evening Star." The shapely red-head in gleaming armor grinned as she parted the curtains and helped the elvish ambassador into her litter. "After a day on the docks, sweating in this heat, tomorrow's archery practice will seem just like a walk in the park!"

"Do all the women of the city train with weapons as you do?" Arwen was really very curious about how Queen Zuleika had recruited her all-female army. She lay down on the soft cushions with a sigh, grateful to be finished with her labors.

"Not all the women, just the chosen," Margo said proudly. "Tomorrow you can watch us training, and then you'll understand why our city doesn't need men for protection."

"I look forward to that," Arwen replied politely, but Margo did not seem to hear. She was shouting for the slaves to lift up the litter, and giving orders for the escort to get underway.

Accustomed to freedom and open air, the elvish maid felt uneasy about being carried home in curtained seclusion. Yet from what she could hear, the streets of the city were quiet.

Daytime was for work, it seemed, while evening was for rest.

Perhaps in the morning she could explore the city on her own. It was important to determine whether the people of the city were really happy with the new government – and whether anyone knew the whereabouts of Prince Kassim.

Arwen was sleeping behind her curtains by the time the slaves set down her cushioned litter in the palace courtyard. Omar the high counselor came bustling up to her at once.

"Honored lady, if you are not too fatigued, Her Majesty Queen Zuleika would like to see you in her reception room."

"I'm not fatigued at all." Arwen frowned, ignoring the little man's outstretched hand as she jumped down from the litter. She knew the queen would want to hear about the search, but she had not expected to be summoned with such haste. She would have preferred to bathe and maybe rest a bit first.

But those things would have to wait. Straightening her slim white shoulders, the Daughter of Elrond pushed all distractions from her mind as she walked down the corridor, her pointed slippers slapping softly on the cool marble floor.

"Ah, there you are." Queen Zuleika was wearing a sumptuous dark red gown and a turban studded with jewels. Her sagging, lined face was heavily painted. "Tonight there is to be a great feast, and I hope you will attend as my honored guest. There will be lavish entertainment. Please, sit down and let me pour you a goblet of ice-chilled wine."

"That's very kind of you," Arwen replied, dropping into a low, deep-cushioned chair and pasting on a suitable smile. In truth a noisy public feast sounded like work, not pleasure.

"Naturally there will be plenty of times for you to rest and freshen up before our guests arrive," the queen assured her, rising from her gilded chair as Arwen sank back in hers. "But before you go upstairs and relax I wanted to be certain you were entirely satisfied with our city's neutrality."

"Yes, I searched all the ships in the harbor very thoroughly." Arwen felt a little uncomfortable, for she knew she was exaggerating the extent of her search. But she quickly reminded herself that the ships she had boarded were all free of weapons. I've done my part, she told herself, ignoring her guilty conscience and draining her golden wine goblet.

"I am most impressed with your energy," Zuleika said drily, drawing several scrolls, parchments and writing implements out of a small black cabinet. "While you were hard at work this afternoon we drew up a complete trade agreement between your kingdom and hours. First of course we need your signature on a friendship treaty."

"Shouldn't we sign the friendship treaty after we discuss the trade agreement?" Arwen didn't mean to delay, but she had no idea what promises a friendship treaty might involve.

"Oh, these documents merely pledge an exchange of gifts – like the clothes and jewels I've given you to wear around the palace." Queen Zuleika gave the young ambassador a wry smile as she leaned over her chair, presenting a parchment. "You just sign here, and then off you go to your own room. There's still time for a hot bath and a rest before dinner."

"Well . . . if you're sure it's just an exchange of gifts." Arwen grabbed the quill pen and scribbled her name, anxious to get upstairs and relax in a hot bath. Just then she noticed something very peculiar about the queen's jangling jewelry.

Zuleika wore over a dozen flashy necklaces and bracelets. Yet when she was presenting the parchment, standing so close that Arwen could smell her musky perfume, the elf-maiden's dark blue eyes were immediately drawn to one necklace above all the rest. This one was not made of jade or sapphires or rubies. It was merely a long line of glass beads, all strung together, each one a tiny soldier in armor.

An army without fear, sparkling and clear . . .

"Is something the matter, my dear?" Zuleika pursed her painted lips in satisfaction as the elvish ambassador dropped her pen. Yet the older woman's brown eyes were keen and piercing, almost hungry, like a hawk closing in on her prey.

"No, no, nothing the matter!" Arwen was certain that the song she'd heard at midnight described the very necklace she now saw before her. Were the men of Zin Zaraboob still living, yet trapped inside the queen's glittering glass beads?

"Ah, you wish to see my pendant of power," replied the older woman, laughing. "Here, look deep into the glowing center."

"Yes, it's very beautiful," Arwen said politely. She really didn't see anything very special about the amber pendant nestled in the narrow crevice between Zuleika's large, full breasts. Yet below the murky surface there was a tiny golden spark, flickering and elusive. Something deep inside called to her.

"You are tired," Zuleika told her. "You are very tired. Sleep."

"What?" Arwen broke eye contact with the stone, wondering what had hit her. She felt as if she had just learned something very important, but could not recall what it was.

"Tired," the queen was saying. "Sleep."

"Yes, that's it." Arwen sighed with relief. She was really just very tired.