Slayer of Gods (27 page)

Despite his experience, he, who had scoffed at men whose passions made them foolish, had been blinded by a woman’s charm and
daring. Yet he should have recognized the hints—how she’d inserted herself into his investigation, how she’d tried to delay
his questioning of Sebek. At Horizon of the Aten she had directed him to a place she probably knew would contain no evidence
that could harm her father. At every turn she’d encouraged him to suspect anyone but Zulaya. She had been against questioning
the merchant, and she’d urged him to submit to the abductor’s demands once Bener had been taken.

“I think our discussion should be held inside,” Zulaya said. He set Khufu down and went into the hall.

Meren followed him, but not before one of the guards relieved him of his dagger. Anath walked past him without a glance to
confront her father.

“This is madness. You should have let me kill him long ago, when it became clear he wasn’t going to be manageable.”

Zulaya sat on the master’s dais, picked up grapes from a side table and popped one in his mouth. “You were always so impatient,
little jewel. I haven’t spoken with him, and already you foretell disappointment. I admit I wasn’t planning to meet our guest
until we poisoned his son for the second time, but we must all put up with little disruptions and inconveniences.”

Meren almost shivered as the complexity and ruthlessness of Zulaya’s intentions became clear. Struggling to hide how shocked
and off balance he was, he tried to keep his features arranged in a facade of mild surprise. He could see little resemblance
between Anath and Zulaya. Only a slight hint in the way their eyes tilted at the outside corners. No, their resemblance lay
not so much in features as in their easy manner, an air of self-reliance, and a daring that was coldly calculating and never
escalated into recklessness.

To give himself time to think, Meren walked up to the foot of the dais stairs and asked, “The queen found out you were keeping
the spoils of the temples you looted for the Aten, didn’t she? That’s why you had to risk murdering the great royal wife.
But you had to trust old Wah, the steward, to help you, and he was weak. Was that why you decided to vanish? Why didn’t you
simply kill him?”

“I should have,” Zulaya said as he pulled another grape from its stalk, “but he was such a little squirrel of a man. He lived
in terror of me, so much so that he caused me little concern.” He leaned back in his chair and contemplated the ceiling. “After
the queen was dead it would have been foolish to kill him and arouse suspicion. And later I had”—Zulaya’s expression darkened—“I
had other concerns that forced me to leave Horizon of the Aten. And certainly Wah had no wish to reveal his guilt and thus
mine. But how was I to know he’d eventually grow confident enough to seek advancement at court again and turn to your sister
to do it? I should have remembered how much he craved the glory of royal favor and patronage.”

“You haven’t answered my first question. Were you taking the temple riches for yourself?”

Zulaya grinned at Anath. “Ah, you see, my little jewel, what comes of being forced to keep company with men like Ay, Maya,
and Horemheb? Men of stunted vision and pruned imagination. Even Meren’s clever heart has suffered from the contamination.”

“Get on with it, Father. He’ll be missed soon.”

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Meren said.

“I will tell you something far more important, my dear Lord Meren, something you may understand, for we’re alike, you and
I. The world is filled with seekers of wealth, people who will do things that would make an ordinary man vomit, in order to
obtain what you and I have. And most of them are like your friends and the other kicking, biting, and scratching place-seekers
at court. Once they climb high enough to obtain riches, they stagnate in their own mediocrity. They never understand that
the ultimate gratification comes from power. Do you not feel it every time you force someone to do your bidding against his
will? There is such pleasure in being able to twist a heart, to distort it until a man or woman becomes something else entirely.”

Meren had to look at Anath. “Is that what he did to you?”

“No!” Anath pressed her lips together and turned her head.

Zulaya patted her arm. “Of course not. I always told my little jewel the truth. Of what use would it be to lie to my blood?”
His expression softened. “Remember the old saying that when one is in a strange house, beware of approaching the women? I
never agreed with it, and one day I met Anath’s mother. She was the only woman I ever loved, and she belonged to an old man.”
Zulaya appeared lost in sad memories, but the darkness in his eyes vanished as he gazed at Anath. “My little jewel is my successor,
my beloved child. She must know everything.”

“Why else do you think I would seek to become one of the Eyes and Ears of Pharaoh?” Anath hissed. She walked down the steps
until she stood on the last one, her eyes level with Meren’s. “Do you think I wanted to go to Babylon, to live away from the
Two Lands? You may enjoy listening to the lies and bickering of foreigners, but I do not. I had to escape Nebwawi, and Father
thought it was a way to advance our interests. So I became the Eyes of Babylon.”

“To be close to your dear father.”

“And to learn the ways of power,” Zulaya said. “Don’t be hurt, Meren. Anath is fond of you. She told me so.”

He had no wish to expose himself further to Zulaya or his bitch of a daughter. “Yet again you fail to tell me why you killed
the queen.”

“You have the answer if you think carefully, but we have more pressing business to discuss. I trust your son is better now.”

Meren could feel the burn of desire, the desire to strangle Zulaya until his eyes bled. “You know he is.”

“Good,” Zulaya said cheerfully. “Then you will wish to keep him that way.”

“If you’re threatening him in order to make me do what you want, come out with it!” Meren could have bitten his tongue. He’d
revealed his frustration and alarm, exposing his weakness to this viper. Zulaya was smiling at him like a concubine with a
newborn son.

“How indelicate of you, my dear Lord Meren. The strain of your recent troubles is beginning to show. Would you like some wine?
Perhaps a cup will calm you.”

“Cease this wordplay,” Meren said. “What do you want?”

Zulaya set his grapes down, leaned toward Meren, and seemed to drink in the vision of his enemy standing beneath him. “Can’t
you guess? I want you, Meren. I want to hold you in my hand, to govern your conduct, to determine your plans, and most of
all I want to control the man who calls himself Friend of the King. I propose an alliance between us. A fair trade for the
lives of your children, I think.”

“I do your bidding or you kill my family,” Meren said with a sneer.

Zulaya waved a hand. “I wouldn’t have phrased it so tactlessly, but you’re right. Think carefully on the advantages of such
an alliance. I can deliver many enemies into your hands.”

“What you describe isn’t an alliance, it’s slavery.”

“If you choose to view it that way. You could think of it as an alliance between yourself and a man of greater power.”

“I’m not in the habit of deceiving myself, Zulaya.”

Anath threw up her hands. “This is absurd, Father. He’ll agree with whatever you propose, and the moment he’s free he’ll attack.”

“My little jewel, you’re absolutely right, and that’s what I’d expect him to do.”

“But you’ve devised a remedy,” Meren said.

Inclining his head, Zulaya chuckled. “You’re beginning to understand me at last, my dear Lord Meren. Yes, I have a remedy.
Several. Let me see. Ah, I remember now. Did you know that your brother, whom I believe you call Ra, has been falsifying the
estimates of crop yields on his lands for over ten years? Did you know that your sister Idut’s son has fathered a child by
the daughter of Prince Setau? The girl is only twelve, I’m afraid, and her father had planned to marry her to Maya’s oldest
son next year. Then there’s the matter of your cousin Ebana, whom you love as a brother. I fear he has done things in the
past that would cause pharaoh to have him flayed alive.

“There was something else.” Zulaya picked up some grapes and studied them as if finding the juiciest was more important than
talking to Meren. “Oh, yes, now I remember.” He picked out a grape and chewed it thoughtfully. “If anything happens to me,
I’ve made rather complicated arrangements so that your son and all three of your daughters will die. Slowly, and in agony.”

Meren simply looked at Zulaya without responding.

As the silence lengthened, Anath began to twist one of the electrum rings she wore. “I was against this from the beginning,
and now you see why. He’s not broken or afraid. He’ll agree to anything, then go to pharaoh and betray us, just as he did
when you abducted Bener.”

“And I repeat, my jewel, that it doesn’t matter what he did before. The abduction and the poisoning were merely exhibitions,
a way to make Meren realize how defenseless he is. Henceforth he’ll conduct himself with honor toward us, because he knows
of a certainty what will happen should he do otherwise.” Zulaya cocked his head to the side and gave Meren a gentle smile.
“You do believe me about what will happen to your children, don’t you, my lord?”

Meren closed his eyes and nodded. He had never been faced with so brilliant a heart combined with such ruthless evil. His
every move had been foreseen and checked, his escape routes blocked. For months now he’d been struggling as if he were a beetle
drowning in honey, never quite grasping the nature of his enemy until it was too late. And now he’d managed to endanger his
children. Suddenly Meren felt a devastating terror combined with an equally overwhelming weariness of spirit. He opened his
eyes and said, “Yes, I believe you.”

“Good,” Zulaya said. He rose and came down the steps to Meren. “Then I need not provide further proof of my power to destroy
them.”

“No.”

Without warning Meren had a vision of Kysen, Bener, Tefnut, and Isis, lying on embalmer’s tables, their naked bodies desiccated,
stitched together, awaiting the mummy bandages. He heard Zulaya’s voice, felt someone take his arm.

“Easy, Meren,” his captor said as he took Meren’s arm. “You’ve taxed yourself too much lately, and after all, you must admit
you were never up to a fight with me, and defeat has brought you low.”

Wishing he could stab the man with his own dagger, Meren barely restrained himself as Zulaya led him to a couch and made him
sit. The vision was gone, but its effect remained, and Meren cursed his momentary weakness.

“Fear not,” Zulaya said as he poured a cup of water and handed it to Meren. “You don’t have to manage everything alone. I
had my men follow Kysen earlier, and they should have abducted him at the Divine Lotus, but Dilalu turned coward at having
to face your men and bungled the whole thing. Fortunately I took advantage of the situation and provided a hiding place to
him where he could be safe from you and the others he thinks are after him.”

“No doubt you helped him along in this belief that someone is trying to kill him.”

“Of course. And now I’ve arranged for certain incriminating documents to be found in the house as well. You, my friend, will
raid Dilalu’s hiding place. He will be killed in the fight, and you’ll recover the proof that the old ruffian was behind the
death of the great royal wife.”

“I’m not going to murder him,” Meren snapped. His best hope was to pretend weakness and submission until he saw a clear path
by which to escape Zulaya’s clutches.

“Oh, you needn’t do it yourself,” Zulaya said. “Later we’ll discuss a few changes in the way you conduct the affairs of the
Eyes and Ears of Pharaoh.”

“What changes?”

“Nothing drastic. Mere changes in staff. A few of your charioteers need replacing, especially Abu and the one called Reia.
I have excellent men in mind to replace them. But we’ll speak of this later. The most important change is that you’re going
to marry my little jewel.”

“No!” Meren shouted.

Anath echoed him. “Father, no!”

Zulaya waved his hands. “Now, don’t argue, either of you. I’ve made the decision, and there’s no use objecting.” He gave them
a beneficent smile. “I know there’s an attraction between you.”

“Not anymore,” Meren said. “And I’m not accustomed to having anyone dictate to me on so personal a matter.”

Zulaya drew near, his gaze hardening. “You’ll have to learn, unless you prefer risking the life of that beautiful daughter
of yours who’s visiting her elder sister at the moment. What is she called? Ah, yes. Isis.”

Meren gripped the edge of the couch and willed himself to appear defeated. He lowered his head. “Very well.”

“It doesn’t matter if he agrees because I don’t.”

“You’ll see reason,” Zulaya said. “But there are more pressing tasks to perform at the moment.” He grabbed Meren’s arm, pulled
him to his feet, and shoved him. “Come, my dear Lord Meren. It’s time to hunt down and destroy the murderer of Queen Nefertiti.”