Stealing Sacred Fire (36 page)

The priests of Etemenanki had
proudly informed Nimnezzar that the angel king had been located and
secured, although they were rather sparing on details concerning
the manner in which their elemental creatures had failed to capture
Shemyaza’s companions. They had muttered vague excuses as to why
this had happened, but concluded that despite this small failing,
their magic must be strong indeed, for had not Shemyaza come to
their hands like a lamb? The ease with which they’d accomplished
this task made Nimnezzar uneasy. It did not ring true to him.

The king had not yet told Tiy
that Shemyaza had been located, never mind that he had been brought
to the city. He knew that Tiy would want to be present at this
meeting, and for now Nimnezzar wished to keep the old woman’s
meddling hands out of it. Superficially, she appeared to advise and
support him, but some instinct warned him that Tiy had her own
agenda.

The doors to the throne room
were thrown wide and a phalanx of ceremonially-dressed militia
marched into the room, led by Jazirah, who was dressed in deepest
crimson, his large turban adorned with nodding peacock feathers.
Nimnezzar swallowed involuntarily, anxious for a fleeting moment
that he had no control at all over these events.

The soldiers came to a
stand-still, surrounding a tall figure, whose head rose several
inches above their own. Nimnezzar tensed. Was this the angel king?
He looked like a man, less inhuman than the inscrutable Penemue.
Nimnezzar wondered whether he’d been duped, or his Magians had
captured the wrong person.

Jazirah stepped forward and
performed an obeisance to the king. ‘My lord, I bring to you the
captive, Shemyaza.’

Nimnezzar raised a hand and
gestured to Shemyaza to be led forward. His hands were manacled
together before him. The supposed angel king was dressed in dusty
khaki, a traveller. His long white-blond hair was tied loosely at
his neck, tendrils of it hanging over his face. His skin was tanned
to a pale shade of honey. He seemed bemused.

‘So,’ Nimnezzar said in his
most royal tone. ‘You are Shemyaza. I have been waiting to meet
you.’

Shemyaza smiled and inclined
his head. He seemed perfectly at ease. ‘My sentiments are the
same.’ He paused, then raised his hands. ‘Is this the way to treat
a guest? There is no need for chains, I assure you.’

Nimnezzar narrowed his eyes.
‘You have not yet attained the status of guest. You are my
prisoner. Answer my questions with honesty and we shall see about
the chains.’

Shemyaza flared his nostrils,
but did not appear particularly outraged.

‘You do not look like a king,’
Nimnezzar remarked.

Shemyaza shrugged. ‘I have not
claimed to be one. Others own that privilege.’

‘So, reluctantly, you assumed
the role. Tell me, how have you survived these long millennia? Why
now have you shown yourself in the world?’

Shemyaza raised his chin. ‘I
had a destiny thrust upon me. I follow it, because I have no
choice.’

Nimnezzar was not pleased with
the answer, which he felt was hardly an answer at all. ‘And what
are your plans? Will you raise an army against humanity? Will you
breed a race of warrior sons?’

Shemyaza opened his eyes wider,
and for the first time Nimnezzar saw how blue they were and
flinched slightly beneath the directness of the gaze. ‘My destiny
is not that of the warrior.’

‘Where is your kingdom? Have
you come to reclaim Eden?’

‘I have no earthly kingdom.
That is not my role.’

Nimnezzar risked a smile. ‘You are a
king without a kingdom or an army. Some might say that is not much
of a king.’

Shemyaza shrugged again and
continued to smile, while the courtiers laughed at the king’s
joke.

Nimnezzar thought, he has
charisma, but he is just a man. He seems deluded, a dreamer. ‘What
were you doing in the mountains?’

‘Visiting my old home.’

‘Just a visit? Why were you in
the company of Yarasadi. Are they your people now?’

‘The Yarasadi guided my friends
and I through the mountains, that is all.’

‘I am wary of any who keep the
company of Yarasadi. They are the enemies of Babylon.’

‘The Yarasadi have ever been
somebody’s enemies, yet all they yearn for is their own land, and
to be able to live in it as they wish.’

Nimnezzar raised sardonic
brows. ‘A political statement, yet you claim no kingship over
them.’

Shemyaza lifted his manacled
hands in what was designed to be a casual gesture. ‘I was merely
stating the obvious. Whether I support that desire or not is
irrelevant.’

Nimnezzar leaned back in his
chair, pointed an accusing finger. ‘You are lying to me. You lead
the Yarasadi now.’

Shemyaza frowned. ‘No, I lead
no-one.’

‘What were you doing at the gas
fields? Planning a terrorist attack?’

Shemyaza stared back at him.
‘Not at all. I was just looking.’

‘What were you looking
for?’

Jazirah made a small sound to
attract attention and, bowing, approached the king. ‘The captive
had this in his possession when we found him.’ He held out the
crystal cone.

Nimnezzar took it and turned it
in his hands. ‘What is this?’

‘A stone,’ Shemyaza said, ‘a
curio.’

‘Did you find it in the
mountains?’

‘Yes. It is probably very
ancient — a decorative stone that perhaps once adorned a statue or
was inlaid into an altar.’

‘He was muttering into it,’
said Jazirah, ‘when we found him.’

‘It is a stone of power, then,’
said the king.

‘If it is, I cannot fathom it,’
Shemyaza replied. ‘Why not enshrine it in your Tower of Babel?
There it might remember its function.’

Nimnezzar narrowed his eyes.
‘What do you know of my tower?’

‘Only what I saw as your people
drove me through the city. It is a good copy for an edifice built
from guess-work.’

‘Not guesswork,’ Nimnezzar
said. ‘The Magians learned from the sacred fires how it should be
built. Djinn breathed life into its stones.’

Shemyaza grinned. ‘Djinn are
capricious creatures. You should use them with care.’

Nimnezzar objected to the tone
of this remark. ‘If you are Shemyaza, hear this. I am the appointed
heir of Anu, the father of all gods. I command djinn, I command
men. And now, I command angels. Shemyaza fell, he lost his power.
His time is past. He should now submit to me, the rightful heir and
give me what remains of his power.’

Shemyaza laughed aloud at this.
‘Should he? By what right do you claim this kingship? Does Anu
speak to you? If so, you are truly privileged, for he has neglected
to speak to the thousands of his descendants who inhabit this
earth.’

The word thousands clearly took
Nimnezzar by surprise. ‘Enough of this craziness. Tell me now of
your plans. I am the true inheritor of the sacred blood-line. I
will not tolerate rivals.’

‘I am no rival to you,
Nimnezzar,’ Shemyaza said.

Nimnezzar was beginning to feel
slightly numb. The interview seemed unreal. He had power over
Shemyaza — he could feel it in his blood — yet how could this be
so? If Shemyaza was who he claimed to be and who the Magians
believed him to be, surely he would not submit to this treatment?
Nimnezzar decided to test the situation. ‘I shall give you one more
chance,’ he said. ‘Where are your armies? What is your first
target? If you do not answer, I will have you beaten and cast into
a pit.’

Shemyaza laughed again. ‘Would
you dare to do that to the king of angels?’

Nimnezzar did not hesitate,
although his heart beat fast and painfully behind his ribs. ‘I see
no angel king. I see a man. If you had power, true power, you would
have evaded capture. You would blast us now with divine fire.’
Nimnezzar sneered. ‘No. If you have strength, it is in the weapons
and hearts of others, many others. And I want to know who they
are.’

Shemyaza stood straight-backed
before the king, his eyes gazing unwaveringly into Nimnezzar’s own.
‘If you would be the true inheritor of the royal blood, you should
learn that true strength comes not from brute, physical force, but
from the heart and soul. You say you do not see a king in me, and
you may be right, but all I see in you is a bullying child.’

Nimnezzar snarled. ‘Enough!
Perhaps in the pit you will realise the folly of your insults and
learn to be more informative.’

For a moment, Shemyaza seemed
to become taller, and a light blazed from his eyes. Then he lowered
his head, and his shoulders slumped. ‘So be it.’

‘Take him away!’ Nimnezzar
ordered the guards. ‘Teach him to respect the King of Babylon.’

Amytis, Tiy
and Melandra had watched the proceedings from the gallery high
above the throne room. Tiy had objected to the American being
present, but Amytis was insistent. ‘She should not be here,’ Tiy
had said in her own tongue, so that Melandra would not understand.
‘You know she has a mission. She might cause a disruption, which
would be inconvenient to us.’

‘It is my wish to have her by
me,’ Amytis had answered. ‘She won’t do anything here. You have
befriended this woman, Tiy, and have heard her stories. I too want
to hear them, so she must also see me as a friend. We both know
that Nimnezzar won’t speak to her and soon he will send her away
from the city.’

‘That woman holds more in her
heart than she’ll ever tell you!’ Tiy had snapped, but relented.
She was annoyed that Amytis had become involved in the matter of
Melandra, for Tiy had been carefully nurturing a relationship with
the American. The reason Nimnezzar was yet to grant her an audience
was because Tiy had advised him against it, and had assured him he
could let her deal with Melandra’s interrogation. Nimnezzar was so
obsessed by Shemyaza and Penemue, he saw Melandra as of minor
importance. Tiy knew otherwise, but now, Amytis, with her brash,
voluptuous presence, might spoil the delicate machinery of words
and suggestions that she had constructed.

Tiy had sensed Melandra’s
tension when she had beheld Shemyaza. The old woman knew that
Melandra had wanted to kill him there and then, but fortunately
lacked the means. Melandra’s hour would come, but perhaps not quite
in the form she imagined. That morning, Tiy had experienced a
revelation. She was still reeling from its effects. Ever since
Melandra’s arrival in Babylon, Tiy had been visiting the temple of
Etemenanki in order to scour the astral world for information about
the woman and the men who held dominion over her. She knew the
Magians felt extremely uncomfortable about her using the power of
the temple, and would have liked to ban her from their sacred
premises, but she ignored their complaints, confident that
Nimnezzar would ultimately sanction her presence there. What Tiy
had recently learned from trance was rather more than she’d
expected, and was of severe importance to both Melandra and
Shemyaza, but the moment was not yet right for Tiy to use this
information.

‘I must talk to the king,’ Tiy
said, once Shemyaza had been led from the throne room. ‘It is time
for me to meet Shemyaza.’

‘We should all like to meet
this Shemyaza,’ Amytis said. ‘He did not look like a king, I must
agree with my husband on that! Still, he was beautiful.’

‘I have seen his power!’
Melandra blurted, causing Amytis to raise her eyebrows in
surprise.

‘Of course,’ Tiy said in a
soothing voice, and reached out with her twiggy fingers to squeeze
Melandra’s arm. The muscles were tight beneath Tiy’s touch. ‘Go now
with Amytis and stay by her. I shall go and see how the land
lies.’

‘Be quick,’ Amytis said. ‘I’m
now quite impatient to learn what my husband plans to do next.’

Tiy smiled and swept off up the
passage-way. She had many tasks before her now, but her first was
to convince Nimnezzar that Shemyaza was who they all thought he
was. She could not see the angel king with her eyes, but his power
had radiated into her mind like a burst of fire. Nimnezzar, the
clod, could not perceive that with his muddy senses. He saw only a
man. Tiy guessed that was what Shemyaza had wanted him to see.
Still, she was surprised the angel had apparently allowed
Nimnezzar’s thugs to lead him off to a beating. His motives were
yet more complex than she’d imagined. Up until the moment she’d
‘seen’ Shemyaza, Tiy had been prepared for infinite patience in
this matter. Now, her energies and emotions were stirred. She had
to act.

Nimnezzar, as Tiy had
suspected, had been unsettled by his meeting with Shemyaza. When
she entered his private office, she sensed the king was relieved to
see her, but was striving not to reveal it. Fool! Didn’t he know
she had always been able to read his feelings? Now, he wanted
advice, but he’d be condescending and aloof, attempting to disguise
his need.

‘I have spoken with the
captive,’ Nimnezzar said in a haughty tone, ‘and am now unsure he
is what you said he would be. He looks like a vagabond and talks
like a man out of his depth. I think he is just a vain fool who has
read the ancient stories and has cast himself in the role of
Shemyaza. He’s a misguided crusader who has duped the Yarasadi. A
lunatic from the West.’

‘And you had him beaten,’ Tiy
said.

Nimnezzar sniffed. ‘Yes. It was
expedient for he was insolent. I have already received reports from
Jazirah that he offered no defence as the guard beat him senseless.
Is this the behaviour of a king?’

Tiy sighed quietly. She was not
pleased to discover that Nimnezzar had actually carried out his
threat, and had hoped Shemyaza would have offered some resistance.
For whatever reason, he must be playing with Nimnezzar. ‘Do you
doubt my counsel, Great King? Perhaps I am too old, and my ‘sight’
isn’t what it was.’