We sought parley with the King in the Desert and so I was sent to Moab, to the land where the sweeping rocks themselves are the jewels of his crown.
"When the Last Quarter moon reaches its zenith, we shall meet under the Arch. You know the one," came His Highness's message.
"Oh goddammit but what about all the goddamn tourists," I said, but not to him. Our return message said only, "Thus it shall be, Sire."