“Ah Kirafa,” the Sultan said in a genial tone. “I am glad you were able to join us.” The Vizer bowed at the waist the many gold chains he wore clinking softly as he did so. It was a surprisingly graceful movement for a man of his weight. Calliope had the impression that he had once been a hard man, but that years of life at caught had softened him. The eyes remained sharp and penetrating though. Acmed for his part was doing his best not to glare at Markus whose impression on the would be Sultana had evidently not been missed. “Merely dispensing of a few of the more unpleasant tasks of my office honored Sultan,” the Vizer said his tone apologetic, like a man who works himself to the bone and then berates himself for not working harder. “I came as soon as I heard we had visitors… and the prince Achmed had returned to us safely, Hayashim be praised!” the Vizier turned and offered another bow to the prince this one deeper even than that he had offered the Sultan. Acmed’s face was stony having correctly read the slight in being mentioned after Markus and Calliope. The bow was a mockery, one of many which was being heaped on the prince tonight. Calliope made a mental note to warn Markus to sleep with a dagger, not that she imagined that was an unusual state of him. Quick as a cobra the Vizer wheeled around. “A thousand thanks Captain,” he said with an oily smile, “All of Dalib Sahara rejoices that you have returned our prince to us.” His viper like gaze shifted to Calliope. “And you my lady, tell me, are you the Calliope that rules in Calaverde?” he asked with theatrical innocence. The dark haired witch nodded guardedly. “Formerly, I fear that jealous courtiers have conspired to drive me from the city for a time.” she admitted, certain that both he and the Sultan already knew of her overthrow. Indeed, the sultan was stroking his beard and watching they by play with interest. “The same Calliope who was said to be intriguing with the Erratri to overthrow our brothers in Hayashim?” he asked with every appearnce of shock. Calliope waved a dismissive hand. “Lies spread about me by the usurper Sebastian Del Mondo,” she declared airly, although the accusations were completely true, there was little chance there was anything approaching proof of her schemes. The Vizer nodded, clearly expecting such a defense. “Ah well it is said that a witch has cursed Calaverde and that a great wind blows across the harbor night and day, more lies I assume?” he asked arching a dark eyebrow. Calliope thought very fast, surely her spell could not still be functioning could it? But why would anyone make up so strange an accusation, and it had been a spell from the Codex, unlike any she had ever attempted before. “Such magic is beyond mere mortals,” she said allowing her face to curl into a smile. The Vizer smirked but before he could skew her with whatever game he had in mind she went on. “But I am responsible in a way,” she admitted before picking up her wine and taking a sip. Deliberately she made no move to elaborate until the Sultan grew impatient enough to speak. “And how are you responsible my lady?” he asked. “Umberlee, the goddess of storms, has cursed Sebastian and Calaverde for betraying me, so long as I am absent from my throne, the arctic wind will howl her displeasure,” Calliope allowed her voice to swell to fill the hall, a trick of oratory she had learned in the many speeches she had made during her rise to power. Audible gasps rose from the guests at the dramatic proclamation. “Nonsense,” broke in the Vizer, looking none to pleased at being upstaged. “Why would a Goddess do such a thing?” Achmed broke in, ignoring the princess who sat beside him to look across the table to Calliope. “Well who can say why my moth..the goddess does anything,” she muttered, her voice quiet enough that only those on the dias could hear her, the apparent slip of the tongue seeming as natural as the desert wind. Legends had to be nurtures afterall. Her eyes slid of the Vizer contemptuously. “Would you pass me a pomegranate Captain?” she asked Markus politely.