Visits from the Beysa were common enough, and more often than not, involving subjects of a trivial nature. Usually, all that was required of him was to listen while she complained or emoted about some new discomfort or minor slight, venting the hurts or frustrations her position would not let her acknowledge publicly. Thus, he was unprepared for the direction their conversation took.
"I have news for you, old friend," Shupansea announced after their normal exchange of pleasantries. "Both good and bad, I'm afraid."
Hakiem had already noticed that his royal visitor had seemed preoccupied and distracted, and was glad the cause was to be revealed without his having to draw it out of her.
"Tell me the bad news first, 0 Beysa," he said- "Then we can dispense with it quickly. If not, then perhaps the good news will'cheer us both."
"Very well. The bad news is that I am about to lose one of my dearest and most trusted friends."
Hakiem noted that no name was mentioned, and wondered if the omission was accidental or deliberate.
"That is sad news indeed." He nodded, silently speculating on who it might be that they were discussing. "Friends are always hard to come by and impossible to replace."
"Still, the same news is good," the Beysa continued, "as it represents a promotion for that same friend ... a chance for me to express my appreciation with a long-overdue reward."
"So you rejoice for your friend's good fortune even though it represents a loss to you, personally. As I have said before, 0 Beysa, your nobility of heart surpasses the nobility of your birth. I would wager that your friend has benefited from your friendship, however brief, just as I have, and will wish you well upon parting."
His comment was automatic, flowery politeness to fill his side of the conversation while he awaited further information. The effect of the words on Shupansea, however, was as profound as it was unexpected.
"Oh, I'm so glad you agree, Hakiem!" she cried, seizing his hand in an uncommon display of emotion, Beysib women being usually very selfconscious about touching males. "I was afraid you'd be upset."
"Upset? About what?" Startled by the turn of the conversation, he practically stammered out the question, though it was now painfully clear that he himself was the subject under discussion. "I ... I'm afraid
I don't ..."
"I'm sorry. I'm getting ahead of myself. It's so hard for me to remember court formalities when I'm talking to you."
She released his hand and stepped back, striking a regal pose almost mocking in its severity.
"Hakiem," she said in her solemn, court voice. "It is with great pleasure that we hereby appoint you Royal Emissary, our Trade Ambassador to the Glorious Home of Mother Bey ... such as it is."
Hakiem could not have been more stunned if she had suddenly struck him.
"Ambassador? Me?"
"That's right." Shupansea grinned, abandoning her attempt at dignity. She was obviously delighted at her confidant's obvious surprise. "The appointment papers were just signed, and I raced the rumors through the palace so I could be the first to tell you."
"But, 0 Beysa, I have no qualifications! I'm no ambassadorl What would I do in a foreign court? Tell them stories?"
"You'll do what the people of this town do best," the Beysa informed him firmly. "Haggle. I can guarantee you the royal opponents you'll be dealing with will present little challenge to you after the training you*ve had here in Sanctuary."
"But I'm just a storyteller. It takes more than fine clothes to make an aristocrat!"
"That's what Kadakithis said ... but he eventually came around to my way of thinking. It's just as well, too. The trade ship has been ready to sail for nearly a week while we argued about who the ambassador would be."
"Trade ship?"
The enormity of what was being proposed suddenly swirled up around Hakiem like a fog. Until now, he had been arguing theoretically about a preposterous idea. The mention of a ship, however, brought home the reality of what was being discussed.
"You mean I am to leave Sanctuary? Make a new home in a foreign land?"
"Well, you can't very well be a trade ambassador from here." The Beysa laughed. "Oh, I know it sounds frightening ... but it's what I had to do when I came ... What is it, Hakiem?"
The storyteller had suddenly collapsed into a chair, his face a mask of despair.
"0 Beysa ... I ... I can't do it."
The smile slipped from the Beysa's face as she stiffened into a posture that had no trace of the mockery shown earlier.
"I don't recall giving you a choice," she said coldly, then softened instantly. "Oh, what's wrong, Hakiem? You've never refused me before."
"You've never asked me to leave Sanctuary before," he responded, shaking his head. "I'm not a young man ... too old to learn new ways. I've had to change my life completely twice already. Once when ... I first came to Sanctuary, and again when I became your advisor. I cannot make such changes again. You sec me as shrewd and wily, but that's only because I know this town and the people in it. Take me out of familiar surroundings, and ..."
"I thought I'd find you here."
Prince Kadakithis was framed in the doorway.
"Well, let me add my congratulations to those you've already received, Hakiem." There was no effort to shake hands, but the prince's smile was warm and sincere.
"He doesn't want the position," Shupansea blurted.
"Oh?" The smile faded as Kadakithis cocked an eyebrow at the storyteller. "I should think you'd find it an honor, Hakiem .' . . not to mention a noticeable improvement in your station ... and income."
"My place is here in Sanctuary," Hakiem insisted stubbornly, his desperation making him bold in the face of royalty. "From what I understand, you yourself have questioned my effectiveness in such an assignment."
"You see?" Shupansea cried in exasperation. "I try to reward his service and do him a favor at the same time, and this is the thanks I get!" "Highness ..." Hakiem began, but the prince cut him short.
"I'm sure we can reach some kind of an agreement here," he said soothingly. "Let me talk with our new ambassador for a moment."
"All right."
"Alone, if you don't mind, dear."
"But ... Oh, all right!"
The Beysa swept angrily from the room, leaving an uncomfortable silence in her wake.
"There's been a lot of water under the bridge since we first met, hasn't there, storyteller?" the prince said, making a show of inspecting the room's decor.
"That there has. Highness."
Hakiem was wary of this private audience, but he had to admit the prince had changed since that dusty afternoon he had tossed a poor storyteller a few pieces of gold- The regal brow was marked with worry lines that had not been there when he'd first arrived in Sanctuary, but he spoke and moved with a new sureness and confidence that had also been lacking in those early days.
"I'll admit I opposed the idea of your appointment when Shupansea first proposed it," the prince continued, "but after giving it considerable thought, apart from my fiancee's insistence, I arrived at the conclusion that you were not only acceptable for the post, but that there was no one better qualified for the position."
"Highness?"
The storyteller was taken aback at this revelation.
"Think about it, Hakiem," the prince said earnestly, turning to gaze directly at his subject. "In your capacity as the Beysa's advisor, you have made yourself familiar with the Beysib culture and people, both the high and the low. In fact, you speak their language better than any non-Beysib in the town or the court."