Seated upon the throne was King Brundiyam, a thin old man with a white beard reaching halfway down his chest. His face was well creased, but his eyes still showed the spark of life and intelligence. He wore a simple gray kaftan, and the gold embroidery around the sleeves and placket was well done but obviously mended; the new threads were bright against the old. His white turban, however, was meticulously wrapped, showing he still cared about some items of his apparel.
King Brundiyam eyed the travelers carefully even as the young warrior who’d fought Prince Ahmad stood at his side, still covered in battle armor. “O my father, I bring before you the travelers I’ve described. They claim they have a matter of great urgency to put before you.”
The three men were startled enough to learn that
