Chapter 22: Generous Cruelty
Scowling, Seht strode from Nephthys' priestesses' candlelit chamber out into the courtyard. Did it have to be so bright outside? Damn sunlight, mocking him. He fanned the air, dissipating the smell of neroli lingering over his skin. Couldn't the priestesses use a scent that pleased him once in a while? Though his visits were rare, he was the king. It was his taste that should be accommodated, not their queen's.
He rolled his shoulders and scratched at the spot of dried blood he'd missed on his palm. He should have spared one of the priestesses to wash his hands. Still, now there were no witnesses of the boy's effrontery.
The boy. Teeth bared, Seht shoved aside the heavily built man standing guard beside the massive doors of his white-washed desert temple, and the guard dropped to his scarred knees. "Where are the servants to re-order the priestesses' temple? Were my commands not conveyed?"
"I'll ensure they were, O King," the guard quickly said and scuttled away.
"Incompetence. That's what surrounds me," Seht muttered to Netum, trailing behind, and slammed back his temple's doors. He paced to his throne and sat.
Terin inched closer.
Must Terin hover? Seht crossed his arms. Couldn't this human see he was in no mood for petty annoyances?
Terin lowered his gaze. "O King," he said and paused. "What do you wish—"
Seht turned sharply to him. "Did I ask a question?"
"I...no, O King." Terin retreated behind the throne.
Lip curled, Seht stared off at the scenes of trees and birds painted on the wall in front of him. "Can't even draw a decent-looking date palm." Had the humans tried? He'd bet they would have for Horus. He clutched the rails of his throne, his knuckles paling. "Damn him."
Harian leaned forward. "O King? Has something displeased you? Did Kafar fail?"
Seht pivoted to face him, and Harian took a hard step back. "Shut up." Yells penetrated his sanctuary. He clenched his jaw. Eyebrow arched, he swiveled to Netum.
Netum straightened to attention.
Did he have to breathe so loudly? Seht's scowl deepened. "Why are people yelling when they know I'm in my temple?"
"I will silence them, O King," Netum assuaged.
"Do. Now." Grinding his teeth, Seht closed his eyes.
Twice Horus had survived an attempt on his life. Now he'd slipped Seht's grasp. Seht gave a hard sigh. Well, he'd find and deal with Horus soon enough.
He shook his head. He'd given the fool of a boy a chance—Nephthys couldn't say he hadn't—and received defiance in return. Arrogant brat, that's what this boy was. And he'd pay for his disrespect. Oh, yes.
Seht gazed at the gold patterns traced across the sand-colored floor and drummed the throne's rails. This would-be heir would reach the mainland. But what did that matter? His fingers stilled. "Unless."
Terin leaned forward. "O King?"
"I wasn't speaking to you." Seht flicked his shoulder, motioning Terin further back. Damn Terin, breaking his stream of thought. Where was he? The boy preparing to leave the island. To meet with the humans? Seht straightened. "Come closer, Harian. The rest of you, out. I'll summon you when I want your return."
Terin joined the guards and servants hurrying from the throne room.
Harian stepped forward to stand beside the throne and bent close to his king.
Seht said, "Yes, Kafar failed. And, it seems, Horus is coming to the mainland."
"So soon? He's just a child."
"A child god. What will be the people's reaction?"
Harian worked his jaw side to side. "Some of the people will follow him. Those still mired in the ways of your predecessor, O King, and his wife. In their confusion, they'll view the boy as heir, and they may well turn to this would-be king."
Yes, Harian was right. Seht had heard the humans' calls for this boy god, their fevered chants and prayers drifting over the winds. Disturbing his sleep. He tapped his foot. "They're fools. Why don't they just submit to me?"
The lines over Harian's face deepened. "They are, as you say, fools, O King."
"Of course they are." But now the self-important brat was moving to answer the people's cries. Seht leaned closer to his commander. "Will this mere child of a god try to form an army, that's the question. He probably will, and, from what you say, he may find supporters." Those ignorant, obstinate humans who bought into Isis' and Osiris' idea of Golden Days and refused to let go. He snorted. If only the humans knew.
Seht flexed his arm, admiring his well-developed muscles. "Well, let the boy try. After all, what could a mere child of five, whoever his parents are, whatever the circumstances of his birth—" he stopped and glanced at Harian.
"It's true there is power in his lineage. He may have inherited some of it." Harian cleared his throat. "But as you say, O King, what does it matter? What match could anyone be to you?"
"Indeed." What could this child possibly do to a fierce warrior-god who'd battled monsters and demons, who possessed skills learned and honed over hundreds of thousands of years? Seht chuckled. "Surprising the boy can even hold a stick."
"Just so, O King. Still, this mere child defeated Kafar."
The vicious warrior who'd killed twelve powerful men to win Seht's contest and the honor of being sent to kill Horus. Was it possible Horus knew how to fight? Even if he did, surely he couldn't have beaten someone like Kafar.
Stroking his chin, Seht draped his leg over the throne's rail. No, it was luck that had saved this Son of Osiris, this boy. Seht lowered his leg and sat forward. Horus had as teachers a Fifth Order Warrior and a priestess a breath away from being elevated into the ranks of Isis' haughty high priestesses. A boy who in his first taste of battle defeated one of the humans' best warriors.
Was Horus a threat?
Leaning back, Seht pursed his lips. Nonsense. Horus had been lucky, that was all. He stretched his arm over the throne's back. "Kafar let fear get the better of him and paid the price. The child is a nuisance, nothing more."
"How do you wish the nuisance to be dealt with, O King?"
"Your suggestions?" Lazily, Seht turned his head toward Harian. Yes, Harian's shoulders had tightened, showing he understood he must now perform.
"With the greatest of respect, O Powerful Seht, I would suggest it's time to send forth spies. Make use of the queen's priestesses and any family connections that may exist among the warriors loyal to you with those who stand opposed.
"Force some to go back to their villages, instructing them to give the false reason of having earned permission to return as a reward. Instruct others to announce they're returning because they're no longer needed, that the Great and Powerful Seht has no further use of them.
"Once in place, these priestesses and warriors will be able not only to relay information back to us more efficiently—"
"You disapprove of the present arrangements?" Seht lifted a brow.
"No, O King," Harian answered swiftly. "For the purpose they were intended, they were brilliant. I simply suggest amendments to the arrangements, reflecting the change in circumstances."
"Hm." Seht studied Harian. "Yes, alright. Go on."
Harian released a breath. "Yes, O King. Once in place, not only may those sent serve as spies, they may serve to promote loyalty to you among their families and villages.
"Family members and villagers, swayed to your goals, may then promote them among their family members and friends in neighboring villages, thus creating a ripple that will negate any attempts on the part of Hor—" Harian shut his mouth tight, neck muscles tensing. "On the part of the boy," he amended, "to attract their interest and allegiance."
Harian's repetition of a plan he'd previously proposed was not only disappointing, it was irritating. Yet, under these new circumstances, there was validity to his suggestions.
Seht sucked his teeth. Perhaps it was the idea of returning to subterfuge that annoyed him. And yet, subter
fuge had served him well. He uncrossed his arms and flicked his hand over his thigh, troubling the edging of his kilt. "See to it."
Harian took a step back. "I, O King?"
"Your suggestion, your responsibility." Seht held his stare, waiting for the conflicting emotions in Harian's eyes to settle to resignation.
"I am always most glad to be of service, O King. Thank you for the honor."
"Indeed." Seht gave a cold smile. "One thing more. The spies will also spread misinformation."
"Play up any weaknesses found in the boy?"
"Convince others he is wholly unfit for leadership. Malik and Terin will assist by continuing to prove that hesitation to serve me, their king, comes at a great price."
"Yes, O King."
Satisfied, Seht turned toward the hallway and called, "Return."
Terin, the guards, and the servants hastened back to their positions.
Seht's gaze lingered over the lightly-clad servants.
The young woman nearest lowered to her knees. "Wine, O King?"
Her voice was squeaky, not melodious like the priestesses'. Seht waved away his annoyance. "I'll make my wishes known when I'm ready." Perhaps he should try again to tempt Nephthys into offering him some of her servants.
Nephthys. Priestesses. He tipped his head back. It was only a matter of time before she learned what had transpired in her temple. Well, he'd make her understand. Still, it would mean for him days of her chilly, silent distance. He sighed.
"O King?" Terin asked, stepping forward.
Seht shook his head and stretched his hands over his throne's rails. The gold was smooth, the lines perfect. Finely formed and finished, it was, indeed, a suitable throne for a god, a king.
Terin cleared his throat. "O King, I, um...."
Seht rolled his eyes. Portions of the ceiling's paint were beginning to flake. He clicked his teeth. "Ask your question."
"O King. What do you wish done with the prisoners?"
"Prisoners?" The warriors had again taken captives, spared lives? How could they be so incompetent? Or was it insolence, a deliberate forgetting of his orders? Gaze fixed to Terin, Seht rose from his throne.
Terin paled. "O King, if I've in some way displeased—"
"Silence." Did the timing of the warriors' increasing mistakes have anything to do with the rumors of the boy's existence? Were they searching for sign of weakness in their king? Seht drew a long breath. Were his commanders, too, searching? He studied them, each man bowing his head, but sensed no change in them. Still, better to give them no reason to consider. Better to show indifference then strike any resistance without warning. Keep the humans guessing.
Feigning a beneficent smile, Seht sank back onto his throne and crossed up his leg. "You expected me to be angry? Silly, Terin. You'll correct their mistake. After all, do I not have standing orders for when this happens?"
Hesitating, Terin glanced at Harian, ashen, gaze locked to Seht. "Yes, O King. O Most Powerful Seht."
Seeming desperate to intercede, Harian took a quick step forward and halted. "O King, if I may—"
"You may not." Seht draped his arm over his knee and slid his gaze again to Terin. "You do wish to please me, don't you, Commander?"
"Yes, of course, O King. It's just—" catching his mistake, Terin sucked in his lips. He jerked back his shoulders and stood rigidly at attention.
Seht tilted his head. "Just?" he repeated with mock cordiality.
Terin glanced at the jagged scar over his chest, reminder of his last lesson with Netum. He swallowed hard. "There are women and children among the prisoners, O King."
"I see. You question my orders?"
Harian hastened forward and bowed. "O King, if I may. It's not that your orders are questioned, it's only—"
"Your views weren't invited." Seht appraised him, Harian's pallor and fear-filled eyes indicating his presumption of what was at stake. Harian thought Seht so easy to read? Seht narrowed his eyes. Then he laughed. Why would he kill Terin, after all the trouble he'd been through to train him properly?
No, he wasn't prepared to dispose of him. Not now with Horus on the mainland. He'd need his commanders to handle the annoyance of human battles. Then again, would Terin be stupid enough to turn against him?
Seht returned his focus to the elder warrior. "You feel he doesn't possess a proper understanding of what's required of my commanders and so you speak for him?"
Harian's legs shook. "No, O King. He is a worthy commander. A worthy commander trying to be certain of his great king's orders so as best to serve and please him."
Right. Terin wouldn't die today. But did Harian have to be so obsequious? Seht waved his hand. "Go away." Perhaps Harian, too, had wondered about Terin's resolve. Or was Harian's loyalty to his king faltering?
Mildly, Seht redirected, "Since you hold such tender concern, Harian, stay. Return to position." He angled again to the son. "Now, Terin, as you were saying?"
Terin nodded rapidly. "It's just as he says. I wish to be certain I understand so I may please you, O King. O Great Seht, Most Powerful and—"
"Enough." Terin was trying too hard. Seht curled a finger over his lips and gazed at Netum. What ridiculous, unruly hair he had. Netum should have kept better watch on Terin, informed his king of this commander's wavering. He'd been told what to do should Terin become a risk. Well, perhaps it was Seht's enjoyment of Netum's lessons with Terin that had caused Netum to delay. Seht shrugged. "Counselor. You understand my orders?"
"Yes, O King. They're quite clear."
"All," Seht said with emphasis, "my orders?"
Netum shifted his weight. Then remembrance registered, his hard mouth lifting at the corners, his beetle-like eyes glimmering with anticipatory pleasure.
"Good. Carry them out."
Netum unsheathed his knife and moved toward the doors.
Seht settled his gaze on the pitchers of wine placed across his offertory table. "Go with him, Terin."
"Yes, O King. I wish to please you however I may." Terin hurried to catch up. To Netum, he said, voice low, "I'll do whatever you say, Counselor."
"Of course you will." Glancing back at Seht, Netum gave Terin's arm a pat then slid his hand across Terin's shoulder.
Seht angled to keep both Terin and Harian in view.
Netum caught Terin's face and jerked it back. He pressed his knife against the exposed throat and lifted his elbow in preparation to pull the blade.
"No!" Harian bounded forward, spun, and fell to his knees before Seht. "O King, surely you wouldn't destroy one of your own commanders."
"Don't cross me today, Harian, or you may find yourself in a worse position," Seht warned.
Terin twisted, angling to face Seht, and desperately called, "Mercy, I beg mercy, O King. Am I not your servant?" His gaze darted to Harian. "Father."
Shaking, Harian prostrated himself, stretching his hands before him over the stone. "Surely you wouldn't kill one who possesses such skill, who offers all to you, O Great King, a god of strength and wisdom."
Seht kicked back Harian's hand, reaching for his ankle. "Counselor, did I not indicate I'm in the mood for silence?"
Netum sliced his knife across Terin's throat. Rubbing his cheek against the rush of blood, he buried the blade in Terin's side.
Terin sank, crumpled against the floor, and was still.
So quickly? Seht leaned back. Even in dying, Terin was a disappointment. Seht returned his gaze to Harian.
Stark hatred shone in Harian's eyes.
How interesting. Well, well, he had some spine after all. Seht cocked his head, waiting.
"You promised—"
"I? Promised? Something to a human?" Dropping pretense, Seht laughed.
"You said he would be protected, my family would be protected." Tear-filled eyes blazing, Harian jerked his hand toward his knife.
This was an unexpected amusement
. Seht tapped his lips, his smile broadening. "Thinking of using the weapon you were so graciously bestowed, human? You wish to die with him? But then what of the rest of your family?"
Lips pale, cheeks aflame, Harian stared into Seht's eyes. He leapt up and sped to Netum. "Murderer!" He knocked him to the floor. Knife glinting, he leaned closer. "You malicious, murderous, inhuman creature. You're not a man. You're an animal. Worse than an animal. Animals don't commit atrocities."
Finally, something interesting. Seht crossed his leg.
Netum crept forward his knife.
Why wasn't Harian countering Netum's move? He knew Netum's tactics. Surprised, Seht lowered his hand from his chin. Ah, yes, grief. This was to be another short, uninteresting fight. No, his interest had been piqued, and he wasn't ready for the finish. He called. "Oh, Harian. You're not paying attention." He shook his head at Netum.
Lips pursed, Netum lowered his weapon to his side, pushed Harian back, and stood.
Harian sat up and stared at his blade. Lifting his chin, he drew his knife toward his throat.
"Oh, now, really," Seht chided. "For a warrior such as yourself? To abandon your wife. Your daughters. I am disappointed."
Harian dropped the blade. Its metal clattered over the floor's stone.
"Better. Now, return to position. Unless, of course, you'd rather Netum continue painting your face and chest."
Harian lifted his hand, halting, to his cheek. He stared at his reddened fingers. "My son." Tears streaking the blood over his cheeks and chin, he fell forward beside Terin's body. "My son."
Seht frowned against the wracked sobs. What could humans know of strangled hope, throbbing anguish? What could the few wretched years of their pitiful, finger-snap existence teach them of love and loss, elation and despair? He turned his head away and took a breath. Smoothing his kilt, he returned his focus to the scene before him. "There, there, Harian. Family is such a nuisance, isn't it?"
Netum pulled Harian back and motioned to Terin's body. "Where should I put it, O King?"
"Oh, wherever might amuse you. But don't be too long about it. I want the warriors started on the prisoners."
"O King." Netum sheathed his knife and hoisted Terin's body over his shoulder. "Doors," he said, and the guards, grim-faced, opened them.
Sunlight rushed into the temple. Seht shielded his eyes. "Closed," he commanded.
Grunting, sweat glistening from their exertion, the guards shoved the doors shut.
Seht leaned back, settling himself more comfortably against the throne, and fingered one of his bracelets. "Harian, if the day's events have been too taxing for you, you may be excused from your duties."
Harian turned and staggered toward the hallway.
Seht chuckled then called, "You don't wish to give thanks for such generosity? Surely, your daughters would."
Harian halted. A moment passed, then he bowed his head. Voice bereft of emotion, he answered, "You are, indeed, most generous, O King."
"True. Go." Pleasantly drowsy, Seht closed his eyes. Netum had a good mind and the right sensibilities to find an appropriate spot to place Terin's corpse. Not so close to the temple that Seht would smell the stench to come, but not so far that he couldn't admire the strange beauty of peeling flesh as he entered and exited. Yes, Netum would find the best spot. And then he'd correct the warriors' mistake. "Mm," Seht sleepily murmured his anticipation.
The energy in the throne room shifted. Brows lifted high, Seht leaned his head against his hand. He'd wondered how long it would take.
"Seht," Nephthys said, voice hard, "I wish to speak with you." Her hands were clenched into fists, her shoulders trembling, her face far paler than usual.
Fear? No, her eyes showed rage. Seht rubbed his brow. "I'll meet with you shortly."
"I'll be in my rooms. Waiting. There are matters I wish to discuss."
Yes, well, he didn't doubt that. Seht motioned for wine, snatched the offered goblet and drank deeply. "More." The second, he drank more slowly. Yes, let Nephthys wait a while. Perhaps her fury would dissipate. Not likely.
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