The Ring of Solomon

long and slender, with a strong chin and finely fluted nose, and quick, dark eyes that glittered, jewel-like, in the lantern light as he regarded her. He was handsome – or would have been so, but for the grey cast of weariness that hung heavily about him, and the curious nets of little lines that ran across his skin, particularly around the eyes and mouth. It was very hard to tell his age. The lines, the gaunt and wrinkled wrists and hands, the long dark hair now thoroughly flecked with grey – all these spoke of advancing years, but his face was quick and his movements youthful, and his eyes were very bright.
    ‘Tell me your name, girl,’ he said and, when she didn’t answer, ‘You’ll have to sooner or later, you know.’
    Asmira pressed her lips together, breathing deeply, trying to quiet the beating of her heart. The room she was in was, if not small, then much less grandiose than the other regions of the palace she had seen. Besides that, it was furnished with a bare simplicity that made it seem more intimate still. There were ornate rugs upon the floor, but the floor itself was dark cedar wood instead of marble. The walls were plainly whitewashed, and lacked all decoration. On one wall was a single rectangular window that looked out upon the night. Beside the window several wooden racks displayed a collection of ancient scrolls; beyond, on a writing table, sat parchments and styluses and bottles of coloured ink. It reminded Asmira of the room above the training hall where she had first practised her summonings.
    Other than the bed, and the chair where the man sat waiting, two rough-hewn tables completed the furniture in the room. The tables were positioned on either side of the man’s chair, conveniently to hand.
    Some way beyond him an arch opened in the wall, but from this angle Asmira could not see where it led.
    ‘I’m waiting,’ the man said. He made a clicking noise with his tongue. ‘Perhaps you’re hungry? Do you want to eat?’
    Asmira shook her head.
    ‘You ought to. You’ve just had a shock. Take some wine, at least.’
    He gestured to the table on his right. There were several earthen bowls upon it, one with fruit, one with bread, one piled high with seafood – smoked fish, oysters, calamari rings.
    ‘My visitors tell me that the squid is particularly good,’ the man said. As he spoke, he was pouring out a cup of wine. ‘But here, drink first …’ He bent towards her, holding out the cup. ‘It’s safe to do so. I’ve not put an enchantment on this one.’
    Asmira stared at him in perplexity – then her eyes widened in astonishment and fear.
    The dark eyes glinted. ‘Yes, that’s right,’ he said. ‘I am he. Not so like the images you’ve seen, perhaps. Come on, take it. You might as well enjoy it while you can. It’s unlikely you’ll live to taste another.’
    Numbly Asmira reached out and took the cup from him. His fingers were long, the nails shaped and polished. The smallest finger had a bright red weal encircling it, just below the second knuckle.
    Asmira stared at it. ‘The Ring …’
    ‘Is here,’ the man said. He gestured negligently to the table on his left. In its centre stood a silver platter, and on the platter lay a golden ring, studded with a small black stone. Asmira gazed at it, then at the king, then at the Ring again.
    ‘Such a lot of effort you’ve gone to for such a tiny thing.’ King Solomon smiled as he spoke, but the smile was tired and hard. ‘You’ve got farther than most, but the end will be the same. Now, listen to me. I am going to ask you another question, and you will open those dour little lips of yours and answer eagerly and well, or I will take the Ring and put it on, and then— Well, what do you think will happen? The end result will be that you answer anyway, and nothing will be different, save that you will no longer be quite so pert and pretty as you are now. It pains me to even suggest such things, but it is late, I am weary, and frankly somewhat surprised to find you in my rooms. So: take a good drink of wine and concentrate your mind. You came to kill me and steal the Ring – that much is obvious. I want to know the rest. First: what is your name?’
    Asmira had calculated the distance from the bed to the chair. Were she standing, she might easily jump that far; she could strike his left arm down as it stretched out for the Ring, seize the dagger and run him through. Sitting down, however, it would be harder. She