Lynda Robinson: Slayer of Gods

“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.”

Meren stepped outside with Zulaya and Anath right behind him. Only two chariots stood in the forecourt, bathed in the clean sunlight of early morning. Meren was glad to see Wind Chaser and Star Chaser still waiting for him, but he hid his surprise when Zulaya dismissed the guards that had insured his cooperation. Meren had been struck by how certain Zulaya was of his power, indeed had deliberately fostered it by his passive reaction. Still, there was a guard, a man who appeared around the corner of the house and saluted Zulaya. As he neared, Meren began to understand why Zulaya felt his presence sufficient.

This was a young man of unusual and pleasing appearance. Taller than any but a Nubian, strong, agile with the coordination that comes from a life spent in warfare. He had auburn-tinted dark hair that grew long, almost to his shoulders, and brown eyes that glittered in the sunlight. The closer he came the more certain Meren was that this was no ordinary hired ruffian; he’d seen that flat, reptilian blankness of expression a few times in his life. The eyes looked as if some artisan had placed false glass ones in a living man’s head. The muscles of the cheeks and mouth seemed rigid, like stretched leather. When the young man turned his gaze on Meren their eyes met, and Meren felt that instantaneous evaluation. It consisted of two categories-those who were prey, and those who were not. The glass eyes moved on, leaving Meren with the certainty that he was one of the prey.

This, then, was the reason for Zulaya’s confidence. Meren was sure of it. Just as he was certain that the young man with the glass eyes and frozen expression of a cobra was a trained assassin.

Zulaya stepped into his chariot and said, “Nebra, you’re here at last. We can proceed.”

Nebra gave his master a chilly smile, drew a knife and touched Meren’s side with its tip. “Take the reins, my lord.”

Meren got into the vehicle and picked up the reins as Anath joined her father. He glimpsed a flash of mottled gray and black, and Khufu leaped aboard with his mistress. Nebra stood beside Meren with one arm gripping the chariot rail nearest his captive. He’d draped the knife hand with a cloak he’d placed over his arm, but kept the point touching Meren’s side.

He was ordered to drive at a modest pace, with Nebra directing his course and Zulaya and Anath following. Meren searched his surroundings as he drove, for it was clear they would meet more guards before attacking Dilalu. If he was going to escape before Zulaya forced him to participate in a murder, it would have to be soon. They skirted the edge of the Caverns, walking the horses through streets filled with pedestrians-women on their way to the river with baskets of laundry, farmers riding donkeys laden with produce, herdsmen whose sheep and pigs scuttled through the streets on the way to butchers.

Meren didn’t see any opportunity to escape until they were far enough away from Anath’s house to prevent Zulaya from calling for help. Soon the streets they took were too narrow to afford room to maneuver. Meren grew more anxious the longer they drove. Dilalu’s hiding place had to be close, and he must take a chance quickly.

At last the crooked lane on which they traveled opened into a busy market in space surrounded by workshops and storehouses. Stalls topped with palm branches cluttered every surface, and there wasn’t much room for the chariots. Nebra drew nearer and pressed the knifepoint into Meren’s flesh when a flower seller thrust a garland at him. Meren shook his head and guided the chariot away from her. Behind them Zulaya snarled at the woman as she tried the same trick with him. When Nebra ordered him to go around an old man selling sandals from a basket, Meren turned Wind and Star to the left, but gave the reins a tiny flick. The horses danced sideways, causing the chariot to wrench, but Nebra kept his footing.

Meren cursed his ill luck as he maneuvered through the stalls and pedestrians. Their route was so circuitous that they doubled back and ended up at right angles to Zulaya and Anath. The old sandal vendor had blocked the chariot and was hawking his wares, oblivious to Zulaya’s threats. Finally Zulaya gave the reins to Anath, and got out of the vehicle to rid himself of the old man.

Meren scoured the market for a way to distract Nebra. He was contemplating startling the green monkey sitting on the roof of a cloth stall when he glimpsed Khufu out of the corner of his eye. The scarred feline was sitting beside Zulaya’s chariot and wore an air of frenzied anticipation Meren knew well. He braced himself as Zulaya walked back to the vehicle. Khufu’s paw shot out. There was a hiss, and dirty claws sank into Zulaya’s foot. Zulaya cried out, and for a mere instant Nebra’s predatory attention faltered.