Lynda Robinson: Slayer of Gods

“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.”