Slayer of Gods (18 page)

Pendua indicated the box with a flourish. “For my dear friend, Lord Meren. Rare spices of Nubia and Punt.” He beckoned to the
next servant in line. “Three pistacia seedlings for your garden. Come along, all of you.” The servants passed in quick succession
while Pendua announced what they bore. “Cakes of ladanum resin for incense, six whole jars of fenugreek oil, four whole jars
of colocynth oil, five whole jars of poppy oil, seven baskets containing dried chamomile, sweet flag, coriander, mint, thyme,
and bryony.”

“Pendua,” Meren said.

“Alkanet shrubs, half a dozen bottles of the best cedar oil.” Pendua held up something in his hand. “A pair of gilded leather
sandals.” He shoved them at a servant and grabbed a box from the next. “A set of throwing sticks of the finest polished cedar.”
He gave the box back to a servant and ignored Meren’s attempt to interrupt him again. “Six pairs of fine driving gloves, a
stool of gilded wood, ebony, and ivory, and an unguent vase carved in the likeness of an ibex.”

Pendua rushed forward and snatched an object covered with a cloth and held it out to Meren. “And my last and greatest gift.”

With great ceremony and pride, Pendua unveiled a vase of pure, shining silver in the shape of a pomegranate. A murmur of admiration
went through the assembled guests. Meren looked at it in alarm, then hastened to thank Pendua before the man could launch
into another speech. He called for wine for his guest and ushered him to the group sitting beside the master’s dais. With
Pendua ensconced in the best chair of ebony, cedar, and gold, he sat beside the man and beckoned to his son. Kysen came over
and leaned down to hear him.

“I will avenge myself for this, Ky. Because of you and Bener I’m going to have to question this man after he has bestowed
a small mountain of luxuries upon me. Go find your sister and tell her to bring this cursed feast to an end.”

Meren forced himself to make conversation with Pendua and Usermontu. His real friends knew his opinion of the two men,
so
he endured knowing looks from Horemheb and glances of sly amusement from Maya. Finally Kysen returned, without his sister.

“Where is Bener?” Meren demanded under his breath as the conversation swirled around him.

“I can’t find her.”

“What do you mean you can’t find her?”

“I’ve looked all over the house, sent the servants and charioteers to search the whole compound, asked everyone I met. She’s
gone.”

“Nonsense.”

Kysen dropped to one knee beside Meren and met his gaze with one of anxiety. “No, Father. That’s why I took so long. We’ve
searched everywhere. She’s gone.”

“In the middle of the feast,” Meren said in a toneless voice.

The noise of the guests faded, and the room seemed to go dark. Bener had disappeared. She wouldn’t run away from him out of
fear. When she got into trouble, she faced his ire. Bener wouldn’t leave an entertainment of which she was the hostess. She
might have left in pursuit of something she perceived as a vital clue. Or someone forced her to go.

A cold, netherworld terror invaded Meren’s heart. Only a lifetime’s experience at hiding his feelings kept him in control,
but barely. He went still, and all emotion faded from his expression.

“Bring Rudu and Irzanen to me at once. One of them has to know where she is.”

“I’ve already talked to them, Father.”

“One of them knows where she is,” Meren repeated as he drummed his fingers on the chair arm. “They might not confide in you,
but they’re going to confide in me.”

Meren stilled the terror that made him want to summon his charioteers and rampage the entire city in search of his daughter.
With a discipline learned at a court ruled by a dangerous fanatic he forced himself to remain in his chair conversing with
his guests. It seemed an eternity before Kysen returned with Rudu and Irzanen.

“Ah, here’s my son,” Usermontu said with his habitual smirk. “The finest charioteer in the city. Can’t think why you never admitted
him into your company, Meren.”

Ignoring the prince, Meren excused himself and walked over to a lamp stand with the three younger men. Rounding on them, he
hissed. “Say at once where my daughter is.”

“In truth, Lord Meren,” Rudu said with a scowl at Irzanen. “You should ask this overgrown hyena pup here. He seems to think
he has some interest in my connection with Lady Bener, which he does not. He appeared out of nowhere and blurted out the most
foul accusations, and your daughter took offense.”

Irzanen had been smoldering, and he uttered a curse. “You arrogant son of a—”

“Irzanen,” Meren said in a quiet but lethal tone that silenced the charioteer. Having gained the attention of both men, he
continued. “Tell me what happened after you had words before my daughter.”

Irzanen cast a fulminating look at his adversary before he spoke. “I saw this—I saw him. He touched her face in front of everyone,
the insolent dog. If you’d seen him, lord, you would have taken offense. I merely pointed this out to Lady Bener, but she
became angry.”

“Nearly snapped his nose off,” Rudu said with a grin.

Kysen sighed. “No wonder I saw her drag Irzanen out of the reception hall.”

“She was annoyed,” Irzanen said reluctantly, reddening. “She pulled me outside, near one of the reflection pools in the front
court, and berated me for interfering where I wasn’t concerned. She—she’s quite eloquent when she’s angry.”

Kysen asked, “Where did she go after your argument?”

“I don’t know,” Irzanen said. “She made me angry, accusing me of rudeness and calling me an officious busybody, I gave her a few of my own observations
about her character, and then I left. I saw her stalking off toward the rear of the house as I went in the front door.”

Meren held up his hand for silence. “Ky, you’ve searched the outbuildings and the gardens thoroughly?”

Kysen gave a sharp nod.

“You can’t find her?” Rudu asked. He turned on Irzanen. “What have you done with her?”

Irzanen raised his fists and moved only to find Meren blocking his way. Meren’s gaze cut into him, slicing through flesh and
bone. His fingertips caressed the hilt of the dagger in his belt. Then Kysen was beside him.

“No, Father.”

“Lord, I swear, I would never harm your daughter. I lo—I admire her above all other women.” When Meren said nothing, Irzanen
rushed on. “You may ask Mistress Takhat or Prince Djoser. They saw her leave me, and they saw me go inside alone.”

Irzanen sighed with relief when Meren nodded and released him from his gaze. Meren hadn’t really believed Irzanen responsible
for Bener’s disappearance, but he had to be sure. Now there was no choice but to accept that his daughter was missing. The
terror he’d been keeping at bay flared up and intensified. He thought furiously while Kysen, Rudu, and Irzanen argued the
next step among themselves. Meren cut through their exchange.

“Kysen, find Abu and tell him to seal the house and grounds. No one is to leave…” His words faded away as he saw Wia, his
grandson’s nurse, approaching. She held something that made his heart pound against his chest. “Your pardon, lord, but someone
asked me to give you this.”

In both hands she held dozens of beads that had once been strung together, amethyst and gold ball beads interspersed with
tiny gold scarabs. He recognized them at once; they’d formed a double-stranded necklace that had once been his wife’s. He’d
given it to Bener last year at the Feast of Opet. Wia dropped the torn necklace into Meren’s cupped hand. He barely heard
Kysen swear as the nurse proffered a folded and sealed note. Meren handed the necklace to Kysen, broke the plain seal, and
opened the note.

Lady Bener is safe as long as you do as you are commanded. Abandon at once the inquiry in which you are engaged. Go to pharaoh
and place responsibility for the crime upon Yamen. Let none suspect your distress. Do as you are commanded by sunset tomorrow
or your daughter will perish.

The black spider’s tracks that formed the script blurred as Meren stared at the unsigned message. He made a guttural sound
as a windstorm of fear and rage nearly consumed him. Rudu stepped back as Meren crushed the papyrus and uttered a stream of
brutal invectives.

Kysen moved between Meren and Rudu. “Forgive us, Lord Rudu. No doubt my sister has been imprudent and has sent a note to explain
herself to Lord Meren. Please excuse us.”

Meren closed his eyes and willed himself into silence as Kysen ushered Rudu away. Then he opened his eyes and sought out Usermontu.
The prince was still chatting with Pendua, Horemheb, and Maya and looking pleased with himself Pendua was casting covert glances
around the reception hall as if looking for someone. Hatred flooded Meren. One of them could be responsible for Bener’s abduction.
He could find out. All he needed to do was dangle them from their heels over a hungry crocodile on the riverbank. Meren narrowed
his eyes, seething with the urge to attack.

“Lord?” Irzanen hovered beside him.

Meren ignored him, stared at Pendua, breathing hard. Kysen appeared in front of him, and he barely felt the hand on his arm.

“Father?” he whispered. “What is it?”

“He took her,” Meren said, still staring. “Someone took Bener.”

When Kysen went mute Irzanen asked, “Who, lord?”

“Never mind,” Meren said distractedly.

“But, lord!”

“Be silent!” Meren roared.

There was sudden quiet in the hall as guest after guest paused. Meren darted glances around the room, then muttered to Kysen.
“I’m going to my rooms. Tell them I’m ill. Tell them I’m still weak from my wounds, anything. End this damnable feast and
get rid of everyone, but make sure you know who was here.”

Without another word Meren shoved Irzanen aside. As he left someone stepped in his path.

“Not like you to lose your temper with one of your young recruits, old friend.” Horemheb blocked his way, his eyes holding
curiosity and faint worry.

Meren managed a wry smile. “I beg your forbearance. I seem to have taxed my strength without realizing it.”

“By Amun, I knew it.” Horemheb took Meren’s arm before he could protest and waved away several friends who were converging
on them. “Not now, not now. He’s overestimated his endurance, the stubborn fool. Not as strong as he thought he was.”

Meren almost objected, then took advantage of Horemheb’s mistake. He leaned heavily on his friend’s arm. Allowing himself
to be guided across the reception hall, he passed Usermontu deep in conversation with his son. The prince glanced at Meren
with the hint of a smile playing about his lips. Was it a smile of secret triumph? Barely able to contain the urge to lash
that smile off the prince’s face, Meren was trembling with suppressed fury when Lord Pendua hurried up to him. Horemheb growled
at him, and Maya came over, smoothly inserting himself between Meren and Pendua, and steered the guest in the opposite direction.
Horemheb pulled Meren out of the hall, down a corridor, and shoved him into the anteroom that led to his bedchamber,

“I’ll find Zar and send him to you,” the general said. “You go to your bed and lie down or I’ll put you there myself.” He
followed Meren into the next room and watched until his friend was seated on the bed. “Good.”

He slammed the door shut behind him, and Meren was alone. Springing off the bed, he flung himself across the room, hesitated,
paced to the other side, crossed yet again. He knew he was behaving like pharaoh’s pet leopard aroused by a threat, but he
couldn’t remain still. Muttering to himself he paced around the chamber and tried to bring his emotions under control.

Seldom had he been faced with danger to his children; he took great care that this was so. Kysen had run afoul of a murderer
last year. That had been a nightmare. Bener had put herself in danger recently, but only briefly. Now he might lose her forever,
and the thought was driving him near to madness. His hands shook, and his heart filled with a thousand nightmarish imaginings.
He prayed to Amun to protect her and hissed obscene curses against her abductors. The feeling of helplessness was almost overpowering.

He stopped himself in the middle of the third cursing spell. “Stop this. You’re only making the fear worse. Think, damn you.”

“Lord?” His body servant, Zar, came into the room.

Meren hardly looked at him and continued to prowl. “Send Abu to me. Go!”

By the time the charioteer arrived Meren was standing beside a chest that held his daggers. With a polishing cloth he was
rubbing the blade of a bronze weapon in intense concentration. It was the only way he could preserve his calm.

“The evil one we seek has abducted Bener,” he said softly.

Abu sucked in his breath. “What are your orders?”

“Recall all the agents we’ve sent in search of information.”

“All?”

Meren didn’t look up from the whetstone and blade. “Send the orders at once, and make a great show of it. I want no one to
be seen making inquiries of any kind. Put Hapimen in charge of the task.” “Meren set the blade and cloth aside and met Abu’s
eyes with a stare of blank flatness.