Watson, Ian - Novel 16 (26 page)

 
          
‘Why
does he stay?’

 
          
‘They’re
going to kill me, Mistress!’ Alex burst out. A mage backhanded him across the
mouth, squashing lips and jarring teeth.

 
          
‘Do
not spoil his looks,’ said Marduk.

 
          
Thessany
stood as if to go: and Alex despaired. But she didn’t go. Instead, she amazed
Alex.

 
          
Calmly
she said, ‘Father, if you keep my slave here I shall certainly - out of sheer
pique - stab Muzi to death on his wedding night, while he lies snoring after
ravishing me.’

 
          
‘If
you kill your husband, you’ll be publicly impaled.’

 
          
‘Oh,
no; for I shall kill myself too. Indeed, why wait to be violated by Lord
Gibil’s son? If I don’t take that slave home with me, perhaps I shall poison
myself before the wedding.’

           
‘Praxis!’ bellowed Marduk. ‘Fetch
him! He will watch you like a hawk, or suffer terribly.’

 
          
‘Even
hawks close their eyes, Father.’

 
          
‘You’ll
be confined to one room, which will be rendered very safe indeed. Someone from
this temple will sit with you permanently.’

 
          
She
shrugged. ‘Supposing my suicide is delayed until the wedding, then Muzi will
definitely die; followed closely by me. And if Muzi doesn’t die on the first
night - say because an official supervisor attends our copulation, which might
well hamper my husband’s performance - then he will die on some subsequent
night. In view of Lord Gibil’s high esteem for you, Great Marduk, I think that
when he claims the corpse he will discover his son’s virile member cut off and
rammed down the throat. . .

 
          
‘Alternatively,
if I can take my slave - my wilful kitten, my songbird - home with me right
now, I promise you that Muzi will enjoy himself lustfully. Or lustily, as the
case may be. On that first night; and on many nights. And that,’ she concluded,
‘is that.’ Marduk stared expressionlessly at his daughter. ‘Take him,’ he said
finally. ‘Make sure you whip and brand him.’ And he strode from the room; just
as Praxis was ushered in by a different door.

           
Thessany snapped her fingers. ‘Come,
Alex. Come home.’

 
          
Gladly,
though trying to look hangdog, he joined her; and together they went out by
various turns and doorways to the ramp, with Praxis at their backs.

 
          
‘Walk
well behind,’ she told the servant. ‘I want some privacy.’ Praxis dropped back.

 
          
‘I
can’t thank you enough,’ said Alex. ‘They were going to burn me alive in the
bronze bull. Now they’ll burn a child. Maybe a baby.’

           
‘Say that again!’

 
          
‘They’re
going to start having human sacrifices. An unwanted child was going to be burnt
to death during the wedding. Then I blundered in. It’s part of Marduk’s plan to
increase his power.’

 
          
‘I
see,’ she said. ‘But aren’t I just as lovely, threatening to stuff my beloved
husband’s equipment down his throat!’

 
          
‘No,
you aren’t. You said that to save me.’

 
          
‘I
meant it.’

 
          
‘At
the time you meant it.’

 
          
‘True.
A threat is no use unless you mean it with your whole being - at least
temporarily. Though once a threat is uttered, one’s pride is involved.’

 
          
‘Do
you intend to keep your other promise, to delight Muzi? I’m very sorry - ’

 
          
‘That
you involved me in that promise?’ She smiled. ‘Did
I
use the word delight? Why should you think me an expert in
delight, all of a sudden? Ah well, tomorrow night you can turn your own expert
eye upon Muzi and advise me. He and Lord Gibil are coming to dinner.
Incidentally,
were
you trying to
escape?’

 
          
‘Not
from you. I know that now.’

 
          
‘I
believe you, Alex. Tell me everything that happened: especially how you got
through the iron door. That was a neat exploit.’

 
          
‘I
guessed the combination. I suppose Marduk can change it.’

 
          
By
now they had reached the base of the ziggurat; they headed across the courtyard
towards the southern gate.

 
          
‘Tell
me everything from the beginning. Come on; we haven’t got all day. Remember,
you have to be whipped and branded.’

           
‘What. . . ?’

 
          
‘Yes.
My father will enquire. He can observe you in the chapel, through his glass
eye, from afar. We can’t pretend a punishment. But the whipping will agonize me
too! I’ll order Anshar to perform. He’s more flab than muscle, more doughy than
doughty. I’ll make it quite clear to him how peeved I’d be if he really damaged
you.’

 
          
‘Thanks.’
He dared to be intimate. ‘Thess, why don’t you give me my freedom; quit me my
debt? That would be one in the glass eye for your dad.’

 
          
A
shake of the head. ‘My conduct would seem bizarre. Marduk might grow
suspicious. Besides, you would have to leave. That doesn’t suit me at all.’

 
          
Yes,
she wanted to keep him with her. Yet Alex sensed that the quality of her
wanting had changed.

 
          
‘So
much is involved,’ she said. ‘His marriage; my marriage. Power and the palace -
I believe you. Now the slaughter of children too. Tell, tell!’

 
          
He
told; and carried on telling for another half-hour after they reached the
house, closeted up in her room.

 
          
The
household was marshalled in the courtyard. A straw pallet was laid across the
stone bench so that Alex would not break his ribs by bucking. Grunting, Anshar
roped Alex’s knees to his elbows beneath the bench. And stepped back.

 
          
Praxis
proffered a horsewhip: a long snake of leather a thumbnail wide with no knots
or cutting edges.

 
          
‘Right!’
said Anshar. ‘Slaves don’t run away. Slaves obey.’ The whip descended.

 
          
After
the fourth stroke Alex decided that it was best to bellow his lungs out, not
try to keep quiet. This also drowned some of Anshar’s sententious adages,
delivered in an ever more huffing voice.

 
          
Fifteen
strokes in all - from the feel of them they were distributed widely; some
inevitably crossed each other. Alex's final three screams were involuntary.

 
          
Then
the whipping was over. Mama Zabala bustled to spread a cool salve on his back.
Snorting and puffing, Anshar untied the rope. Alex sagged. Tears blinded him.
Anshar and Praxis hauled him to his feet, and the cook wiped his face with a
rag.

 
          
Alex's
gaze met Thessany's. Her lips pouted one slight kiss-you-better. She went away
quickly.

 
          
He
lay all afternoon on his whipping pallet upon the chapel floor as if doing
penance, benefiting from the cool and dimness and relative absence of flies.
When he next got up, to kneel humbly for evening prayers, his back felt as
though it had been basted and half cooked. He moved carefully in case he tore
his skin open.

 
          
Prayers
commenced. The black curtain flew aside. The image of Marduk stood there.

 
          
‘The
slave has been soundly whipped,' declared Thessany. ‘Show your spine, slave!'

 
          
Alex
shuffled round, though the dim lighting must make the extent of his weals
ambiguous.

 
          
‘His
screams were terrible. A sparrow died of shock.’ This was surely going rather
whimsically far! ‘The cook will confirm. Zabala!’

 
          
Shocked
not so much by the whipping she'd witnessed as by being forced to address
Marduk personally, Mama Zabala’s voice quavered, sounding truly appalled.

 
          
‘Awful,
Lord, awful. . . yes, awful, indeed.'

 
          
‘Tomorrow
the cattle-marker comes,’ promised Thessany.

 
          
Marduk
vanished without comment.

 
          
* * *

 
 
         
That night as Alex lay flat on his
belly beneath the fig tree, prevented from sleeping by feverish hurt, he
thought he heard footseps, but ignored them. They faded. The courtyard was very
dark. The moon was new and low.

 
          
Much
later the footsteps returned, came close. ‘Hush,’ Thessany squatted down. She
had come to him in the courtyard by night! ‘I went to the iron door, Alex. He
has already changed the combination. I tried bits of all the fifty names of
God. It took ages.’

           
Alex faced her. ‘The new code could
be anything.’ ‘No. If it’s anything, he might forget. It has to be something
associated with Marduk.’

           
‘It could be the name of someone
you’ve never heard of.’

 
          
‘Will
you rack your brains? You cracked the other combination.’

 
          
‘I
was lucky.’

           
‘And subsequently not so lucky.’ Her
hand brushed his back. He shuddered, but her hand stayed in contact. ‘I went
tonight because he might have chosen another god-name in haste, meaning to
reconsider later. Also, it occurs to me that he might have left the temple lock
unchanged for the moment. If he has agents in Babel they’ll still need to
regain the temple secretly. You said that the stream in the tunnel probably
flows into the Euphrates?’

 
          
‘Underwater,
I bet! Otherwise any busybody could wander up that tunnel.’

 
          
‘Hmm.
Can you dive and hold your breath?’

           
‘Not just at the moment.’

           
‘When you’re feeling better we could
take a trip in a coracle.’

 
          
‘Thessany
. . .’

           
‘Yes?’

           
‘I don’t specally want to mention
her, but do you suppose his bride-to-be - ’

 
          
‘Goodness,
call the woman by her name. I don’t mind.’

 
          
‘Do
you suppose Deborah’s aware that her wedding is to be solemnized with a human
sacrifice? I can’t imagine it! If she doesn’t know, how would the news affect
her attitude?’

 
          
Thessany
chuckled. ‘So I should send you on a sly trip to the temple of Sin? Ah, any
excuse to see the woman - particularly with you in such a pitiful state!’ ‘I
don’t think I want to see her. You could go yourself.’

           
‘An intriguer, run errands in
person? What are go- betweens for?’

 
          
‘This
is much more than an intrigue.’

 
          
‘But
it must be treated as such! Or one may lose all sense of proportion; begin
killing babies.’

 
          
‘He’ll
steal yours away.’

 
          
‘After
making sure I have a boy. I know, I know. Listen, Alex, I’m going to tell you
about the scroll. I believe what Mori found out is accurate. Swine such as that
greedy mage are essentially unimaginative.’ ‘You called it a scroll that
controls.’