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n. The second tine of an antler's beam.

Bez (dancer)

Mark "Bez" Berry (born 18 April 1964) is an English dancer, percussionist, author, media personality and comedian from Bolton, Lancashire. He is a member of the bands Happy Mondays and Black Grape and plays the Maracas.


Bez may refer to:

  • Bez (musician), Nigerian musician Emmanuel Bez Idakula
  • Bez (dancer), Mark Berry, British dancer and percussionist known as Bez
  • Bez, character in Hanna-Barbera animated Arabian Knights TV series
In geography
  • Le Bez, a village in France
  • Bez-et-Esparon, a commune in southern France
  • Bez (Drôme), a tributary to the Drôme river in France
  • Bez (Midouze), a tributary to the Midouze river in France
In international codes
  • BEZ - the IATA code for Beru Island Airport. Gilbert Islands, Kiribati
  • bez - the ISO 639-3 code for the language spoken by the Bena people in Tanzania
Bez (Drôme)

The Bez (also: Bès) is a tributary to the river Drôme in the Drôme department of France. It has a drainage basin of 278 km².

Bez (Midouze)

The Bez (or Bès) is a right tributary to the Midouze River in the Landes, in the Southwest of France. Its length is . Its name is similar to that of Baïse. The Bez has its origins in the northern Morcenx where it collects the waters of Brassenx. It joins the Midouze River in Saint-Yaguen.

Bez (musician)

Emmanuel Bezhiwa Idakula, known as Bez (born 10 November 1983), is a Nigerian multi-instrumentalist, singer-songwriter and composer, working in a genre known as "alternative soul", a hybrid of soul, rock, jazz and R&B. He was featured in Pulse Magazine as number one on the list of "Top 12 Musicians To Look Out For in 2014".

Usage examples of "bez".

He was tall and lean where Bezrar was not and sour and sarcastic where Bezrar was jovial and cheerfully evil.

The fat, sweating, jovial one would be the smuggler and stolen-goods-vendor Bezrar, whose schemes were as brutish and simple as he was.

None of which was much warm comfort, considering that Durexter had openly and sneeringly short-coined Bezrar and Surth, laughingly directing them to "call on the gods" or "beseech the Crown" for their losses.

We intend to leave this grand house of yours with what's owed to us, Bezrar, the rope!

As he felt Aumun Bezrar's rough hands at his ankles and the prickle of coarse rope, it was Lord Durexter Dagohnlar's chance to faint.

He promptly slipped on the bunched-up carpet for the fourth time and fell heavily across the newcomer, leaving Bezrar no safe place to stab.

Such folk often carried poisons, possibly ones he himself had supplied, and he wanted to be well away from this one before, Glarasteer Rhauligan ducked under Bezrar's wild slash, slammed a balled fist into the fat merchant's rotund chest, above the belly and below the heart, forcing Bezrar into the wild battlecry of "Eeep!

The Dagohnlars were his sworn foes, whom he and Bezrar had just bound and threatened, and who were quite possibly still sharing the room with him .

Malakar Surth drew breath for the rudest words his mind could find to blisteringly deliver to a certain fat merchant, in the few breaths it would take Surth to find and pluck forth Bezrar's own dagger and bury it hilt-deep and repeatedly in Bezrar's fat and stupid face .

Malakar Surth had been displaying some signs of irritation throughout the preceding discussion, his mouth drawing into a thin, disgusted line, his gaze beginning to wander around the hall, beginning with a glance at what her gown displayed to the watching world of the Lady Noumea Cardellith's bosom, and so had his partner Bezrar, who'd slumped in his chair into a more sullen pose of boredom.

Harnrim "Darkspells" Starangh did not smile at that observation, but Lady Ambrur was carefully looking now into the round and startled eyes of the importer Aumun Bezrar and no longer meeting the gaze of the Red Wizard.

Malakar Surth drew in a deep breath, wrestling down his temper, and with a firm hand pushed the point of Bezrar's wavering knife aside.

It struck that armored breast, and the world exploded in bright blue fire and ringing, tumbling shards of battle-steel that half-deafened Aumun Bezrar and flung him off his feet back past a tree or two and crashing down among bushes, very hard roots, and wet dead leaves, with pieces of riven armor pattering onto the ground all around him.

Surth sat down hard, clutching at his head, and Bezrar, surveying the now-empty path, found himself laughing wildly.

Surth threw the gewgaw in his hand, and Bezrar hastily buried his face in the moss and leaves.