"I did not know," she answered unsteadily, "nor am I certain yet. A word, perhaps ... one more voice to plead, with a flattering abasement impossible to Eodan ... or some scheme--I could not stay away." Tjorr looked at the Cimbrian's unheeding back. "Be not angry with him if he shows you cold thanks," he said. "There has been a blackness in him of late, and this cannot have lightened it." "He has already rewarded me beyond measure," she said, "by the way he greeted me." They entered the tent. Eodan slumped on a heap of skins and wrapped solitude about himself. After some low-voiced talk with Phryne, it occurred to Tjorr to take her out and show her to his and Eodan's personal guards, grooms and other attendants. "She is not to be insulted. Obey her as you would obey me. Any who behaves otherwise, I'll break his head. D'you hear?" When they came back it was approaching sunset. Eodan was sitting before a small pile of silks, linens and ornaments. "A slave brought these for you, Phryne," he said. "The king commands your presence at his feast." "The king!" She stared bewildered. "What would the king with me?" "Be not afraid," said Eodan. "He is only cruel to his enemies." Tjorr's eyes glittered. "But this is wonderful!" he cried. "Girl, your fortune may be made! I'll get a female to help you dress--" When she had gone he muttered, "She did not appear overly glad of the king's favor." "She is too frightened on our behalf," said Eodan. "Do you think she has good reason to fear?" "I do not know--nor care, if I can only lay hands on Flavius." As twilight fell, an escort of torchbearers came to bring them to the castle. Entering the feasting hall, Eodan saw it aglow with lamps. Some attempt to make it worthy of the king was shown by plundered robes strewn on the floor; musicians stood in the murk under the god-pillars and caterwauled. It was no large banquet Mithradates gave this night--couches for a score of his officers, with Eodan on his right and Tjorr beyond him, Flavius on the left. Cimbrian and Alan wore Persian dress, to defy the plain white tunic of the Roman. The rest clad their Anatolian bodies in Greek style, save that the king had thrown a purple robe over his wide shoulders. Eodan greeted Mithradates and the nobles as always, and reclined himself stiffly. The king helped himself to fruit from a crystal bowl. "Never before has this place known such an assembly of the great," he declared with sardonic sententiousness. "And yet our chief guest has not been summoned." "Who might that be, Lord of the World?" asked a Pontine. "It is not our custom that women dine with men," said Mithradates. "We feel it a corruption of older and manlier ways." That was a malicious dart at Flavius, thought Eodan. "Yet all you nobles would consider it no insult to guest a queen; and many philosophers assure us that royalty is a matter of the spirit rather than of birth."