Slayer of Gods (20 page)

“I heard you arrived last night,” Tutankhamun said. The gold uraeus that held his headcloth in place caught a sunbeam from
a window and flashed in Meren’s eyes.

“Majesty, I beg leave to speak privately.” Meren touched his forehead to the floor and sat up only to be startled when the
king abruptly dropped to one knee close to him.

“What’s wrong?” Tutankhamun’s voice was low and urgent.

“Bener has been abducted. They took her last night after I came home.” Meren pounded the floor, his voice rising. “While I
was there, by all the demons of the netherworld!”

Alarm clear in his gaze, the king said, “Tell me what happened.”

Meren took a deep breath and lowered his
voice.
He tried to speak without emotion, but by the time he finished, his body was tight with tension, while at the same time he
felt as if he were looking at himself from a perch near the ceiling. It was as if his ka tried to take flight and search for
Bener while his body remained earthbound, explaining to pharaoh.

Upon hearing Meren’s words the king’s expressive eyes filled with anger and sympathy. He stood and motioned for Meren to rise.
“I knew something terrible had happened the moment I saw you.” The king gripped the chariot rail hard and swore. “This insanity
must end. I’ll order everyone you suspect arrested and have them beaten with staves until one of them confesses.”

“No, majesty!” Meren dropped to his knees again. “I beg you not to do this. I have no doubt that the evil one has given orders
that Bener is to be killed should anything happen to him. We must be seen to comply with his commands.”

Tutankhamun stared into Meren’s pain-filled eyes, nodded, and lapsed into a thoughtful silence. Then he raised his gaze to Meren’s
once more. “It makes no sense, this attempt to force you to give up your search. Surely the evil one expects you to do as
you propose, make a pretense of complying while secretly proceeding with your inquiries.”

“Thy majesty is wise,” Meren said. He drew an unsteady breath. “This abduction is more than it appears. It is a message to
me. I am to understand that the evil one can harm me through my family at any time should he find it necessary.”

“Can he?”

Meren looked away from the king’s steady gaze. “Yes.”

“Such power implies great wealth and cunning.” Tutankhamun studied his heavy electrum signet ring. “Too much wealth, too much
cunning. My majesty cannot allow such a subject to go free. You understand this, Meren.”

“I do, Golden One.”

“You have seen to it that the rest of your family are protected?”

“Aye, majesty.”

Tutankhamun frowned. “You must have threatened him in some way for the evil one to resort to abduction.”

“I’ve done little, majesty. I went to Horizon of the Aten, then to Syene to question the royal bodyguard Sebek. I think this
abduction was planned after the evil one failed to ruin me in thy majesty’s eyes. What I’ve learned of late isn’t remarkable.”
Meren gave the king a report of his activities.

“Prince Usermontu, the two Asiatics, and Lord Pendua,” pharaoh said. “I cannot imagine Pendua is the font of all this evil
intrigue. He isn’t known for his subtlety or the refined intelligence of his heart.”

“Yet such a character would serve as excellent concealment for criminal activities. No one would suspect such a man.” Meren
shook his head and sighed. His head felt like it was stuffed with papyrus pulp. “Thy majesty’s advisors were right to withhold
favor from those whose avarice caused suffering under the old pharaoh. I’ve been reviewing a few records from the last years
of the reign. Many of them had already received rewards of land, cattle, even gold in amounts far beyond any given for the
kind of services they performed. Usermontu and Pendua certainly did. In fact, they were given more than most.”

Tutankhamun ran a finger along the chariot’s handrail. “What are you saying?”

“That Queen Nefertiti threatened to cut off their source of riches, and one of them might have killed her for it.”

“Killing her did no good,” the king said. “They lost their positions at court when I came to the throne.”

“But the murderer couldn’t have foreseen the death of Akhenaten and Smenkhare or thy majesty’s actions.”

Tutankhamun drew nearer and asked quietly, “What will you do now?”

“The hardest thing I have ever done, majesty. I shall do nothing. It may drive me to madness.” He flinched when the king put
a hand on his arm and squeezed.

The touch of the living god conferred great honor and favor. It also provoked the enmity of jealous courtiers, but all Meren
could think of was how useless his intimacy with the king was in the face of Bener’s disappearance.

“My dear friend,” Tutankhamun said in a low whisper. “I shall call upon my father Amun to protect you and Bener and all your
family. I like your daughter. She can weigh hearts on the balance scale and isn’t often fooled by liars or charlatans. She
doesn’t stare with her mouth open or titter and simper at me like so many noblewomen do.”

Meren managed a brief smile. “She’s the most practical and sensible of my daughters in many ways, but she isn’t sensible about
her proper sphere. It may have been her meddling in my affairs that provoked this abduction. She came to the evil one’s attention
by interfering in my investigation.”

“It is unwise to allow women too much power, it’s true.”

Tutankhamun’s gaze grew unfocused, and Meren wondered briefly if he was thinking of Queen Ankhesenamun. He reflected painfully
that Bener would disagree with their opinion.

“Not all women are as wise and clever as the great Nefertiti, majesty.”

“I know,” the king said.

“If thy majesty will permit, I will return to Golden House,” Meren said.

“To do nothing.”

“With elaborate care, my king.”

“Very well,” Tutankhamun said. “But, Meren, remember. This drinker of blood must be exposed and destroyed.” He searched Meren’s
face and went on. “No matter the cost.”

Meren felt his heart contract painfully. “Yes, Golden One. No matter the cost.”

At home Meren did as he’d planned. He refused an invitation to a feast that arrived by messenger from the high priest of Ptah.
When Maya arrived full of concern and curiosity to inquire after his health, he hid in his bedroom and protested his inability
to receive visitors due to extreme fatigue. Out of sight in his office he conducted the business of the Eyes and Ears of Pharaoh,
receiving royal messengers from all parts of the empire, studying reports from the city police of Memphis and Thebes, dispatches
from the desert police, royal garrisons, the army and navy. He looked at dozens of papyri until he realized he was reading
words without comprehending them, listening to heralds and messengers without hearing, signing documents without understanding
them.

The hours crawled by, each moment made hideous with fear for his daughter. As night fell and the moon rose Kysen returned
from the Caverns wearing that pungent mixture of odors characteristic of that area—beer, dust, and goat dung. Meren thought
he caught a hint of the exotic perfume he connected to the Divine Lotus. Kysen wiped sweat from his brow, put his back to
one of the columns in Meren’s office, and sank to the floor with a sigh.

“Othrys has heard nothing about Bener. Neither have Ese or that wretch Tcha. Whoever took her has kept a closed mouth about
it.” Kysen’s head listed backward, and he closed his eyes. “Dilalu’s house is still deserted, but all his belongings remain.
Tcha thought he glimpsed the bastard once near the docks, but he isn’t sure how long ago.”

“Tcha is a thief,” Meren said as he signed the last of a series of letters and handed them to Bek. “He has no occasion to
mark his days in any manner except by how much he’s been able to steal.”

“But at least we know Dilalu is still in the city.”

“He was near the docks. The merchant could have sailed to Cyprus by now.”

Kysen opened his eyes and sat up with a grimace. “Tcha said he was scurrying down an alley away from the docks.”

Meren dropped the rush pen he’d been using, leaned forward in his chair and said, “The docks.”

Kysen met his gaze. “Abu went with the men who searched that area. If Bener were there, he would have found her. You know
that, Father.”

“Yes, but…” Meren shook his head and sat back. “You’re right. And I dare not go myself, although—”

“You’d feel better if you could tear every warehouse and shed apart with your own hands,” Kysen said.

Meren nodded.

“I have been out there searching, Father. All it does is make me feel useless and powerless.”

“But at least you were doing something.”

They spent a few more hours going over everything they’d found out in their investigations. By the time they finished Meren
was in a peculiar state of agitation and exhaustion. Kysen studied him covertly, as if he expected his father to collapse.
When Meren ordered Kysen to get some rest, he wouldn’t go until Meren also promised to shut his eyes. So as early morning
approached Meren bathed and lay down. The house was silent except for the hollow deep-toned croaking of the frogs in the reflection
pools.

Usually this rhythmic serenade lulled him to sleep, but his eyes were open in the darkness long after Zar had extinguished
the alabaster lamps and retired. That irksome feeling of having forgotten something had returned. His chest burned, and no
matter how many times he went over every piece of information, he couldn’t identify anything that might be the source of this
nagging sensation. If only he could figure out what he’d overlooked or forgotten, he might discover the identity of the murderer.

But what good would it do now? Knowing who the evil one was wouldn’t save Bener. All he could do was wait, and wait, and wait.
He groaned and sat up. Donning a kilt, he padded out of his rooms, across the reception hall, and across the front courtyard.
There Abu stood talking to the men he’d posted at the front gate.

“Lord,” the charioteer said. “You should be resting.”

“I can’t.” He wondered if Abu could read in his voice the panic that threatened to engulf him.

“There is no word of her, lord. At least lie down. I will come to you the moment I know anything.”

“Don’t tell me to rest,” Meren snapped.

He flung himself away from the group by the gate and strode toward one of the reflection pools that lay between the perimeter
wall and the house. If he didn’t master himself, he would do something reckless or worse, go mad.

“Lord Meren!”

Meren turned to find Irzanen rushing through the gate, and after him, holding his hand, stumbled a slight figure.

Without a word Meren raced toward them, his heart pounding. He lunged, caught Bener in his arms, and squeezed her so hard
she let out a squeak of protest. He babbled at her, demanding to know if she was well, what had happened to her, why she didn’t
cry out, and a thousand other fervid questions. After a long while he calmed enough to be able to put her down, but kept hold
of her. She was trembling and crying silently.

“Did they hurt you?” he asked again with a fierce, rough tone.

“No, Father.”

“Are you certain?”

Through her tears Bener said, “I ought to know whether I’m hurt or not, Father.”

If she could make such a retort, she was well. The relief that flooded his body nearly turned his legs to water. His throat
knotted, and he could do nothing but stand there and hold Bener.

Abu appeared, grinning. “I posted men on the streets around the house to watch for her.”

“She just appeared around a corner,” Irzanen said, hovering near Bener. “There was no one with her.”

Bener’s voice shook. “They took me to the square near the temple of Ptah and set me free, so I came home.”

Meren silently thanked all the gods at once, then spoke to the jubilant Irzanen. “Go to Lord Kysen and tell him his sister
has been released.”

Holding Bener at arm’s length, he examined her from head to foot before speaking again. “Who took you?”

“May the gods damn him to oblivion,” Bener said as she wiped her
eyes
on the hem of her gown.

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know! I was mad at Irzanen and wanted to walk awhile before I returned to the guests, so I went down the path to
the garden, and he grabbed me. He was hiding in the shadows beside one of the incense trees.”

“Did his voice sound familiar? Was he a big man? Did you see or hear anything while he held you?”

“Father, please.” Bener threw up her hands. “He dropped a foul-smelling sack over my head and held a knife to my side. I had
no chance to see anything then or later. Afterward they kept me in a room with shuttered windows. Most of the time I was bound,
gagged, and blindfolded.” She bit her lip and sobbed. “I couldn’t see, I couldn’t see anything, and I thought they were going
to kill me. He told me to give you a message.” Her voice rose, quivering. “He said—tell Lord Meren that my reach is as long
as the Nile, my vision like the falcon and the owl, my power greater than pharaoh’s. I could reach her if you sealed her in
the mightiest pyramid.”

She sobbed again. Meren cursed and picked her up. Holding his weeping daughter, he shouted over his shoulder. “Abu, send for
the physician.”