Lynda Robinson - Slayer of Gods

Inquiries into the man’s past had revealed that Dilalu had sold horses to Queen Nefertiti. Delving further, Meren’s agents found that while profiting from this royal patronage Dilalu had been busy arranging to sell scimitars, bows, arrows, daggers, and lances to rebellious Egyptian vassals in Canaan. Among these had been Aziru of Amurru, a troublemaker who defied the pharaoh Akhenaten and pledged his loyalty to the king of the Hittites.

Before she died, Nefertiti had ordered her agents to find whoever was supplying the vassals with weapons and destroy him. So Dilalu had had a good reason to want the queen dead. With her gone he could ply his trade throughout Canaan, Syria, and Palestine, making himself rich on the interminable disputes of Egyptian vassals.

Kysen hadn’t taken more than a few sips of his beer when he saw Reia come in with another charioteer. A third man appeared shortly afterward, followed by a fourth. He was halfway finished with the jar, however, before Dilalu strode into the tavern holding his pet cat clutched to his chest like a treasure. Dilalu never went anywhere without his pet cat, a corpulent tabby with a nasty disposition and a flat head.

The weapons merchant had a gait like a pyramid block with legs. He walked with his chin jutting out and his elbows likewise, and Kysen knew that when he came close to the man he’d smell of expensive unguents. The merchant’s soft skin was oiled, as was his hair, which he wore in tight curls and which hung above his shoulders. He’d recently shaved his beard so that his cheeks and chin were a lighter brown than the rest of his face.

Kysen caught Reia’s eye and nodded in the merchant’s direction. Reia eased over to lounge near Dilalu while the others circled at a distance. Oblivious to their presence, Dilalu chatted with Ese’s assistant, a woman with long, red-tinted hair. Kysen knew Ese. Although the Divine Lotus catered to the physical comfort of its guests-whether it be thirst, entertainment, or lust-Ese seldom bestowed her personal favor upon a customer. If she did so, it was for an enormous fee. She detested most men, and Kysen was sure she would never consider entertaining the portly and slimy Dilalu. No, Dilalu was visiting Ese for some more nefarious reason. Possibly he wanted her to introduce him to agents of vassal princes in need of weapons. Whatever the case, Ese would probably make him wait to see her, thus asserting her importance and command.

Near the hearth musicians struck up a tune with a heavy drumbeat, and three women began to dance. As patrons surged toward the center of the room to see the performance Dilalu followed his hostess toward the rear, through a stairwell and out a door. Kysen followed, waited at the door until he saw the woman leave her guest alone in a garden court, and then slipped outside.

Dilalu had wandered to a reflection pool in the court and was trying to keep his cat from leaping at some ducks swimming there. He wore a fine wool robe that must have taken a flock of sheep to make. It was yellow, blue, and red with a fringe spangled with gold thread. While he wrestled with the cat his sandals slipped on the tiles that bordered the pool.

Dilalu admonished his cat. “Behave yourself, Enlil.”

He moved away from the water to stand beside a tall lamp stand, nearly knocking it over and causing the flame to flutter.

Behind the merchant Kysen remained in the black shadow of a date palm as the cat squirmed and clawed. Dilalu yelped, and twisted around, his gaze finding Kysen at last. He squinted, then smiled.

“Mistress Ese, at last. My eternal thanks for agreeing to help me, for I seem to have attracted too much attention from those in authority, that cursed Lord Meren, especially. I need your help in leaving the city without being noticed.” When Kysen didn’t answer, Dilalu moved nearer and squinted harder. “Mistress Ese?”

“Greetings, merchant,” Kysen said.

Dilalu turned around, saw Kysen, and lifted one eyebrow. “Who are you? Don’t I know you?”

“I want to speak to you.”

When Kysen made no threatening moves, the merchant scowled at him and stroked Enlil.

“I’m busy, youth. I await Mistress Ese.”

Kysen glanced around the courtyard and spotted Reia, who nodded. The other charioteers were already moving around the garden to surround their quarry.

“Mistress Ese isn’t coming,” Kysen said.

Alarmed, Dilalu backed away, his eyes flitting from one man to another. He opened his mouth and emitted a high scream.

“Shut up!” Kysen clamped a hand over Dilalu’s mouth. The cat Enlil growled and raked his arm with sharp claws. Kysen cursed and withdrew his hand.

“Helphelphelphelphelp!”

Luckily the music, drums, and clapping that accompanied the dancers in the tavern made it impossible to hear Dilalu. The merchant scurried away from Kysen, his cat under one arm, dodging Reia and the other charioteers. Kysen ran after him, leaping over a corner of the reflection pool. He landed in front of Dilalu, who shrieked and threw the cat at him. Enlil yowled and bounced off Kysen’s chest, hit the ground, and became a ball of claws and teeth. As the drums and music grew even louder, Kysen sprang backward out of his reach and whirled around at the sharp clang of metal. Half a dozen men had appeared without warning. Armed with scimitars and swords, they rushed the charioteers. Kysen had come armed only with a dagger. He drew it as Reia dispatched an attacker and pounced on another.

Dilalu took advantage of the distraction to maneuver around Kysen and race along the edge of the pool. Kysen ran after him and caught Dilalu’s robe. The merchant tripped over the fringe on his gown and fell to his knees. Kysen stooped, intending to grab the neck of the robe, but something heavy hit him from behind, and his knees buckled. Before he could defend himself another blow glanced off the back of his head. He fell face forward in the water, and someone jumped on him and shoved his head under; Kysen breathed in water and struggled frantically.

As suddenly as he’d been shoved under the water he was released. He came up choking and sputtering. Water erupted from his nose and mouth, and he sucked in air.

“You idiot, that’s him!” said a harsh, foreign-accented voice. “Bring him, quickly.”

Someone grabbed Kysen’s wig. It came off, and he heard a curse. Before he could gather enough strength to resist he was bashed in the head again and slung over a shoulder. Dazed, Kysen felt his stomach try to fall into his throat. He was moving. Then, without warning, the ground slammed into him. Around him he heard the noise of battle, then shouts and the pounding of retreating feet. He made swimming motions in the dirt, and gathered his legs beneath him. His vision cleared, and he was able to roll over.

Someone was standing over him. Kysen’s hand went to the dagger sheath at his side. It was empty; he’d dropped his dagger when he’d been hit.

“It’s me, lord.”

“Reia.” Kysen blinked up at the charioteer. “What happened?”

Reia helped him stand. “You took a blow to the head, lord.”

Kysen shoved his wet hair back from his face. He felt his skull and found a bump that felt like it was the size of a crocodile’s egg. Mud streaked his arms, legs, and face.

“Where did those men come from? I thought Dilalu was alone.”

“So did I,” Reia said as he sheathed his sword.

Kysen looked around the garden court. “They’re all gone?”

“Yes, lord.”

“Even Dilalu.”

Reia nodded, handing Kysen his dagger. “When we stopped them from dragging you off, they retreated.”

“Strange,” Kysen said as he wiped the blade on his kilt. “Why would they try to abduct me in the middle of rescuing Dilalu?”

Reia was scowling, deep in thought. “Remember what the merchant said?”