the infant will be born alive”—his voice softened—“or dead.”
“I would not have presumed on our friendship for anything less,” Arthur told him. “But I could think of none better to advise us on the correct course.”
Turms turned and began walking down the row of neatly tended vines. He stopped at one vine and lifted a heavy bunch of blue-black fruit in his hand and, with his finger, rubbed away some of the waxy white coating on the nearest grapes.
“I am sorry if we have—” began Xian-Li.
Arthur touched her shoulder and shook his head to silence her.
In a moment, Turms turned and walked back to where the worried couple stood. “Of course, I will advise you. I only wished to see if this request lay within the realm of foreseeable knowledge. I have been asked many things in my time as king, but never this.”
“And it is something you can foresee?”
“So I believe,” Turms replied. “In any case, the answer is within my power to seek.”
They resumed their stroll among the vines, taking in the warmth and beauty of the day. Xian-Li soon became tired, and they returned to the lodge where rooms had been made up for the use of the king’s guests. Then, when they had been settled to his satisfaction, Turms put on his robe of state and went down to the temple at the base of the sacred hill to speak to some of the priests about organising the necessary items for the divination.
The chief priest, a venerable old man with a slight hump in his back, shuffled into the audience room just as the king was taking his leave. “May peace abound in your company, my lord and king,” said Sethre. “I only just learned you were here, or I would have come sooner.”
“Greetings, Sethre. I did not wish to intrude on your meditations,” replied Turms. “I came only to prepare for a divination this evening. All is in order, there was no need to disturb you.”
“Your presence is never a disturbance, O King,” replied the aged priest with polished deference. “I have good news for you. Your tomb is almost finished.”
“That is good news,” said Turms, nodding with approval. The building of a tomb was the priest king’s first, highest, and most sacred duty. His own plans, modest in comparison to some few of his predecessors, had nevertheless been fraught with complications of many kinds. The delays resulting from these difficulties had pushed the completion further and further into his reign.
“The artists assure me the tomb will be ready before the equinox,” said the old priest. “The inauguration can take place in the spring.”
“Well done, Sethre. Your experience and service have been invaluable.” It was true, the old man had guided the construction with an unflagging determination. What Turms did not say was that it was an error on Sethre’s part that had resulted in the first setback; the site chosen along the Sacred Way had proven wholly unsuitable owing to an unseen fault in the tufa stone—a fault that should have been detected in the divination ceremony long before construction ever began.
“I knew you would be pleased.” He gave a bow, then turned to go, hesitated, and asked, “The rite you are planning tonight, my king. Would you like me to assist?”
“There is no need,” replied Turms. “It involves the birth of a child.”
“A simple matter, then. I have a dove that will serve.”
“Not as simple as we could wish,” said the king, who went on to describe the fear that the child might be dead inside the mother. “Have you ever encountered such a request?”
“Only once, my king. It was many years ago.” He put a finger to his pursed lips. “I used a ram, then, as I recall. I don’t think I would use a ram now.”
“No?”
“A lamb would be better,” he said. “Or even a kid. With an older animal you risk too many complicating factors. It could cloud the issue unnecessarily. You want a young beast, and a healthy one.”
“Wise counsel, Sethre. I yield to your judgement,” said Turms. “Yes, as I think about it now, I would like you to assist me this evening. See that an unblemished lamb or kid is prepared.”
“As you will, my king.”
Satisfied that all was in order for the ceremony, Turms returned to the lodge and, after informing Pacha that no one was to disturb him, he helped himself to a plum from a bowl on the table outside his chamber. He removed his