controlled wariness.
Basa was rattling on. “Zulaya trades throughout the world and brings rare treasures to Egypt, Lord Kysen. Should you require
timber or fine wines, anything, he can provide it.”
Zulaya bowed again. “You flatter me, Basa. I’m sure the son of the Eyes and Ears of Pharaoh has his own traders. May I inquire
after the health of the great Lord Meren?”
“He has been ill, but he’s recovering,” Kysen said.
“One of my ships has brought health-enhancing herbs from Cyprus. I will send some.”
“My thanks, Zulaya, but Lord Meren is away from Memphis at the moment.”
Zulaya inclined his head. “They will be sent so that his physician may use them upon his return.”
The garrulous Basa interrupted. “Zulaya plies his trade all over the Great Green. I swear he must have a hundred ships.”
“You exaggerate,” Zulaya said smoothly. “I have a few poor vessels, and they pale beside the great Byblos ships of pharaoh.”
Kysen was thinking quickly. He should express interest in some commodity and have Zulaya come to Golden House for an exchange
agreement. It would be the perfect excuse to find out more about him, especially since Meren was away. Not long ago Zulaya
had accidentally met Meren at the Divine Lotus. His father had been in disguise; he’d been accused of trying to kill pharaoh.
But Zulaya shouldn’t be allowed to see him and connect Lord Meren with the man from the tavern. There was no way to predict
what the merchant might make of the famous Lord Meren haunting the disreputable tavern in the guise of a Greek pirate.
“Zulaya, I do have a request,” he said, as if suddenly remembering. “My sister Tefnut, who will give birth shortly, requires
fine cedar for new chairs and tables. Also, I would like to purchase oil and wine for my father’s stores in his houses at
Thebes, Memphis, and in the delta. This is an urgent requirement. Perhaps I could see you tomorrow.”
“Unfortunately—”
“Don’t be hasty,” Basa said. “I know you were to deliver that lapis lazuli to me, but I can wait one more day. It would be
my honor to be of service to Lord Meren.”
Something flickered behind Zulaya’s eyes. There was a slight pause, almost imperceptible, and then the merchant bowed again.
“Ishtar has smiled upon me this day,” he said. “I will present myself at Golden House tomorrow, Lord Kysen.”
Kysen gave him a smile as smooth and seamless as a block of granite from the quarries at Syene. “Better still, I can receive
you now, as soon as I am finished here.”
“Ah, but fate does not smile upon hasty arrangements, Lord Kysen.”
It took all his will to remember he wasn’t a common son of a tomb worker. He met Zulaya’s intense gaze with one that assumed
a natural right to command. “I won’t be long. You may wait for me in the reception room.”
Zulaya’s gaze flattened. He bowed his head. “As the lord commands.”
With a quick nod to Basa, Zulaya backed away from Kysen, turned, and walked swiftly out of the room. As he began to discuss
the king’s gift with Basa, Kysen wondered if he’d made a dangerous mistake.
Chapter 7
Meren lay on his back across the mats that had served as the table for their midday meal, and as their bed. His forearm shielded
his eyes, and he listened to the noise Anath was making in her search of one last room. Every muscle ached with that special
weariness peculiar to intimate release, and for once the clamor of thoughts in his heart had quieted.
Anath had given him this gift. Unlike Bentanta, who treated him like a youth in need of lessons in manners, Anath asked him
for his strength and gave hers in return. She gave without demanding answers or promises or trying to force him to reveal
more than he wished. Easy, light of heart, she had come to him, shared herself, and let him go, gently, but with the understanding
that neither of them required feverish revelations or expressions of
Basa was rattling on. “Zulaya trades throughout the world and brings rare treasures to Egypt, Lord Kysen. Should you require
timber or fine wines, anything, he can provide it.”
Zulaya bowed again. “You flatter me, Basa. I’m sure the son of the Eyes and Ears of Pharaoh has his own traders. May I inquire
after the health of the great Lord Meren?”
“He has been ill, but he’s recovering,” Kysen said.
“One of my ships has brought health-enhancing herbs from Cyprus. I will send some.”
“My thanks, Zulaya, but Lord Meren is away from Memphis at the moment.”
Zulaya inclined his head. “They will be sent so that his physician may use them upon his return.”
The garrulous Basa interrupted. “Zulaya plies his trade all over the Great Green. I swear he must have a hundred ships.”
“You exaggerate,” Zulaya said smoothly. “I have a few poor vessels, and they pale beside the great Byblos ships of pharaoh.”
Kysen was thinking quickly. He should express interest in some commodity and have Zulaya come to Golden House for an exchange
agreement. It would be the perfect excuse to find out more about him, especially since Meren was away. Not long ago Zulaya
had accidentally met Meren at the Divine Lotus. His father had been in disguise; he’d been accused of trying to kill pharaoh.
But Zulaya shouldn’t be allowed to see him and connect Lord Meren with the man from the tavern. There was no way to predict
what the merchant might make of the famous Lord Meren haunting the disreputable tavern in the guise of a Greek pirate.
“Zulaya, I do have a request,” he said, as if suddenly remembering. “My sister Tefnut, who will give birth shortly, requires
fine cedar for new chairs and tables. Also, I would like to purchase oil and wine for my father’s stores in his houses at
Thebes, Memphis, and in the delta. This is an urgent requirement. Perhaps I could see you tomorrow.”
“Unfortunately—”
“Don’t be hasty,” Basa said. “I know you were to deliver that lapis lazuli to me, but I can wait one more day. It would be
my honor to be of service to Lord Meren.”
Something flickered behind Zulaya’s eyes. There was a slight pause, almost imperceptible, and then the merchant bowed again.
“Ishtar has smiled upon me this day,” he said. “I will present myself at Golden House tomorrow, Lord Kysen.”
Kysen gave him a smile as smooth and seamless as a block of granite from the quarries at Syene. “Better still, I can receive
you now, as soon as I am finished here.”
“Ah, but fate does not smile upon hasty arrangements, Lord Kysen.”
It took all his will to remember he wasn’t a common son of a tomb worker. He met Zulaya’s intense gaze with one that assumed
a natural right to command. “I won’t be long. You may wait for me in the reception room.”
Zulaya’s gaze flattened. He bowed his head. “As the lord commands.”
With a quick nod to Basa, Zulaya backed away from Kysen, turned, and walked swiftly out of the room. As he began to discuss
the king’s gift with Basa, Kysen wondered if he’d made a dangerous mistake.
Chapter 7
Meren lay on his back across the mats that had served as the table for their midday meal, and as their bed. His forearm shielded
his eyes, and he listened to the noise Anath was making in her search of one last room. Every muscle ached with that special
weariness peculiar to intimate release, and for once the clamor of thoughts in his heart had quieted.
Anath had given him this gift. Unlike Bentanta, who treated him like a youth in need of lessons in manners, Anath asked him
for his strength and gave hers in return. She gave without demanding answers or promises or trying to force him to reveal
more than he wished. Easy, light of heart, she had come to him, shared herself, and let him go, gently, but with the understanding
that neither of them required feverish revelations or expressions of
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