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Shammara waited patiently for a week, for it would take at least that long for messengers from the “brigands” to bring the news to King Basir and for him to dispatch an official envoy to relay the news to Ravan. After a week, though, the silence from Marakh continued. As each day passed without the desired news, Shammara’s impatience grew and her anger flamed. Her servants hid in corners when possible. Many felt the lash of her tongue and the side of her hand in these fearsome days. She’d known King Basir was weak and generally incompetent, but she’d felt she could at least trust him with a simple ambush. His army, despite his inconsistent leadership, was still one of the best in Parsina; they should have had no trouble against a lightly armed wedding party whom they outnumbered four to