Nezzar

Part One: Fangs and Venom

Amytis rose to her feet, heart pounding and fingers trembling. Walking to the window, she stared down at the scroll just to be certain she was seeing right.

"Princess, did something unfortunate happen?" Sittu's voice, halting and unsure, was like a distant echo at the recesses of her mind.

"I..." Amytis glanced her way, barely noting the worry that lined the girl's face. Turning back to the scroll, Amytis blinked. There was a need to check herself, peruse through the myriads of emotions rushing through her.

Clearing her throat, Amytis forced a smile and nodded at Sittu. "Do not worry about me." Waving the scroll, she strolled back to her seat and settled in. "Wait at the outer chamber. I need a bit of privacy."

Sittu bowed and acted accordingly.

Finally alone, Amytis unrolled the scroll once more. Her eyes danced over the lettering. How did he know she could read Akkadian? His writing was clean and precise. No smudge of ink in sight.

This letter is from Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon.

To Amytis, princess of Media.

I see you learned of your fate around the same period I did, and like me, you are displeased with what it holds for you. I do not presume you have a choice in the matter, for it is the place of princesses to be married off to foster peace and security for their home kingdom. I cannot say the same for myself.

Since I have no daughters to offer in a weak bid for peace and security, I fight for Babylon. For what value does a thing possess if one suffers nothing to get it? I have no intention of marrying the princess you suggested or you for that matter. You are free from your expected duty as a princess—at least, at my hands. Your letter was needless.

Take this letter to your father and inform him of my refusal, or do whatever you wish. I, on the other hand, will do what I do best to get what I want.

I hear Media is a very prosperous nation.

All the best.

Amytis blinked once, a frown at her brow. There was a hidden message somewhere in his letter. Something else hovered over the surface of what he wrote. Something important.

...what value does a thing possess if one suffers nothing to get it...

I hear Media is a very prosperous nation.

The frown at her brow deepened.

I, on the other hand, will do what I do best to get what I want... I fight for Babylon.

A sudden realisation struck Amytis like the clap of thunder.

"He doesn't want a treaty, he wants Media. He intends to wage a war against Media to get what he wants." Terror, pure and absolute, blossomed within Amytis, spreading as she stood on shaky legs. Amytis rolled the scroll and placed it back in its tube, dying a thousand deaths all the while.

What sorrow she had caused herself. Perhaps she should have been more like Graya. An empty-headed girl that chirped endlessly about fine things and a rich prince for a husband. Maybe if she had not cursed herself by reading, storing up useless knowledge, she wouldn't know what war would do to Media.

Her feet took her to the window and from there she stared at the palace grounds. Her mind, that terrible thing, painted a gruesome picture. The Babylonian forces, like ants from their hill, pouring in. Slashing swords. Flying arrows. Feral battle animals. How they killed, ploughing through anyone and anything within their path. The princesses would be distributed among their ranks. A life as a piece of meat to be groped, spat upon, and mocked. And father...