We left the temple area and rode up to the palace where the King waited on us. A guard escorted us into the Great Hall and we no sooner began to bow than the King rose from his throne.
He was a wiry man, not much taller than I. His face was that of a young man, but his eyes held stories and wisdom of bygone eras.
“I take it you’ve seen the destruction?” he asked.
My knees began to protest against the wood floor. “Yes your Majesty.”
I could feel his steely blue eyes on me. “Is it as I feared?”
“I don’t think it is dark magic,” I said.
“Dark magic?” He turned the words in his mouth as if tasting them for the first time.
“Magic performed by evil entities. Say: a demon or an evil spirit.”
He was silent and I hoped I had translated that correctly. I was still new to the country, after all.
“A daemon, you say?” Doubt crept into his voice.
“Yes, your majesty. In my language we call them, shedim.”
“OH! The Eastern Demon,” he said. There was a pause in which my knees screamed for mercy and Kaman poked his heads out to wink look around.
“Tell me Miss, what do you know about witchcraft?”