The blade sliced another path through the cloth. Then Kysen tossed it in the air. Catching the weapon by the hilt, he slipped it into his belt.
"You're a fool," Othrys said.
Naram-Sin's soft laughter echoed down off the plaster and stone. "But a brave fool."
"The names of the criminals, Othrys. I'm not going to waste more time listening to menacing tales."
The pirate suddenly dropped his air of apprehension to smile nastily at Kysen. "By the blessed gods, you need subduing. I almost wish I could be there to see it. Follow me."
Othrys walked into the darkness once again. Kysen went after him, stopping before all light faded. He waited, growing more irritated as the moments passed. Then a hand shot out and pulled him into blackness.
"Curse it, Othrys, you're not performing a festival play. Give me the names and be done with it."
"Keep your voice down, boy." The words came out of the obsidian void, sharp, like cobra's fangs.
Kysen held his tongue, and Othrys continued in a whisper. "If you reveal that it was I who gave you these names-"
"I already know what you're capable of."
"Then remember it."
Kysen felt Othrys's breath near his ear.
"Three names. These are the ones with the mighty grasp, the will, and the appetite. There is one called Dilalu. If you wish to acquire large numbers of weapons, he can find them. Dilalu is never in one place for more than a few months-in Alalakh, Ugarit, Kadesh, and of course, in Memphis. I think he played a part in the Hittite destruction of the Mitanni, but of course, I can't be sure. And he's in Memphis at the moment."
"Who else?" Kysen asked.
"An Egyptian called Yamen, an officer and scribe in the Re division."
"An officer?" Kysen asked. "What kind of officer?"
Othrys chuckled. "The kind that serves generals and sometimes is sent to foreign lands as an envoy, which gives him opportunities to meet generous people who seem to give him many gifts. Many, many gifts. And these gifts Yamen generously bestows upon his numerous friends, some of whom I would not trust should my other choice be your demon Eater of Souls."
"I've met worse."
"I won't try to convince you," the pirate said. "You'll believe me soon."
"And the last?"
"The last is Zulaya, a Babylonian who lives in Egypt and trades in horses, wool, copper, spices, many things. But what he is known for among my people is his unrivaled supply of the secret doings of princes, chiefs, and kings."
"If these men are so evil-"
"These men," Othrys snapped. "They have a few similarities. Their influence is felt in many lands. Each has secret friends among the great ones of Egypt. And most important, their enemies have a habit of ending up in evil plights. The high numbers of deaths among their rivals keeps most from interfering in their affairs."
"But it's strange that I haven't heard of them."
"Gods! You will be my undoing. I have almost decided to abandon you to the malice of this evil power."
Othrys stomped out of the darkness, leaving Kysen to follow. He joined the pirate, who was listening to Naram-Sin softly mention the late hour.
"A pity," Naram-Sin said as Kysen appeared. "But then, Egyptians always think they're somehow invincible simply because they're Egyptian."
Kysen ignored the Babylonian. "Othrys, I'll tell my father what you've said. But I have to warn you. Don't expect this talk of a master of evil to deter him. If he had to, Meren would hunt this criminal down into the caverns of the netherworld."
"Would he?" Naram-Sin asked with a smirk.
"Do you know Maat?" Kysen countered.
The Babylonian shook his head.
"Maat is the divine order of existence, which was brought into being upon the creation. Maat governs the seasons, the stars, the relationship between mortals and the gods, and above all, rightness and justice. Pharaoh rules through the authority of the goddess Maat."
Kysen tossed his headcloth at Naram-Sin's feet and surveyed the two foreigners. "This is what you don't understand. Egypt is governed by Maat. Pharaoh guards against lawlessness and chaos. He preserves the divine order, and Eyes of Pharaoh exist to aid pharaoh. Evil is chaos, and chaos is evil, which threatens Egypt's destruction. And Egypt, her pharaoh, her peaceful seasons and endless stars, these are the substance of my father's ka. If he must, he will bring the stars down to the earth and the earth to the sky to preserve Maat."
Turning to go, Kysen lightened his tone. "In any case, both your shadow criminal and this murderer who steals hearts must be stopped. Eyes of Pharaoh has decreed it, and what he ordains always comes about, I promise you. Have a safe journey home, Othrys. And may the protection of Amun be with you."
Chapter 13
A great ship was moored at the temple quay, its dark hull hardly visible above the night-black waters of the Nile. So long and wide that it dwarfed even the largest of pharaoh's warships. It had no deckhouse. Unlike other ships, its prow didn't curve up. Instead it looked cut off, and thick lines could be seen running from it to the quay.
This was the royal barge Tutankhamun Is Divine. An overseer of the treasury had brought it to port just before nightfall. The arrival of Tutankhamun Is Divine had been a marvel. On the last leg of the voyage from the southern quarries at Aswan, it had appeared over the horizon like some vast floating plain. Long before it docked, rhythmic chants and the drumming of oars from thirty towing boats signaled its advance. The sun boat of Ra had set fire to the pink granite of two needlelike obelisks resting side by side on the barge.
These elegant, tapering monoliths were meant to stand before the pylons of the temple of Ptah. Their pyrimidion tops would be covered with sheet gold to reflect the sun's rays. As he had promised, pharaoh was restoring the temples of the old gods, replenishing their looted coffers, in reparation for the destruction wrought by his heretic brother.
No guards patrolled Tutankhamun Is Divine or her cargo. There was no fear that thieves could shift stones weighing as much as several pyramid blocks and measuring four times the height of the tallest house. The hot western wind whistled through the streets of Memphis and burst into the open at the quay to hurl sand across the water. Smaller boats bobbed and dipped. The royal barge remained almost immobile.
One of the towing boats bumped against another. At the muffled smack of wood against wood, a long mud-green snout rose behind the first obelisk. Eater of Souls peered out at the quay.
Bronze claws scraped pink stone while protruding eyes studied the docks, the other boats, the storage buildings, and deserted streets. She had been slithering along in the shadows, on her way to yet another execution, when that large overseer of the city watch had appeared. Marching toward her with that officious, waddling gait, the creature had actually barked at the two men preceding him. Mortals didn't bark at Eater of Souls; usually they screamed, if they got the chance.
Intrigued by the overseer's officious manner and flabby bulk, she had wondered what it would feel like to sink her ax into that thick chest. While she speculated, she had waited almost too late before she faded into the black shelter next to a staircase running up the side of a bouse. The creature waddled nearer, moved past her, then stumbled. Catching its balance, the mortal turned, slowly, as if afraid to look. Eater of Souls gripped her ax. Her claws scraped against each other. The creature gasped, its eyes bulging, and whimpered like a sick piglet. Before she had even decided to attack, the overseer whirled around, leaped into a sprint, his flesh jiggling, and vanished down the street.
Eater of Souls chased after the mortals but lost them near the docks. When a drunken gaggle of priests staggered across the quay, she plunged aboard the royal barge to avoid them. Too many encounters would keep her from the most important task she'd performed so far on behalf of the favored one.