Nezzar

Part One: Alliances and Treaties

Schooling her features and steeling her spine, Amytis raised her bound hands to the edge of her veil.

"Untie her," King Nebuchadnezzar commanded.

Amytis winced as one of the soldiers went about the task. When the rope fell away, Amytis drew in a breath for strength then exhaled as she swept the veil away with a single motion. Truly, it was a pity that when she looked her worst, King Nebuchadnezzar deemed it time to see her face.

Heart thundering, Amytis raised her head but kept her eyes downcast. As she waited, she observed what she could see of him. A polished bronze scale armour encased his broad chest, around his waist was a golden belt and his shoulders and upper chest were covered with a bronze pectoral. A sheathed sword hung from his belt and his dyed-blue skirt was edged with golden fringes that stopped at his knees. He was a fairly large man.

"Look at me," he said in that same flat tone.

Amytis lifted her eyes and met the gaze of king Nebuchadnezzar.

He was terrifying. His eyes were fierce and dark, set deep within his bearded face. A strong forehead marked with a frown. His lips were pressed in a flat line. And the scars. One nicked his left eyebrow, another across his chin, and the third dented the rim of his left ear. It was a struggle to keep a straight face. Was this the man she so foolishly sent a letter of rejection to? Foolish, foolish girl.

Then he grinned.

The action did a shocking thing to his features, softening places that appeared unyielding and brightening his otherwise dark gaze. "You have a beautiful face, princess. Cover it." He suddenly turned from her and faced his men. "Rise, all of you, and be about your business."

When he turned back to her, his grin melted to a soft smile. "Have the princess cleaned and brought to my tent." He shifted his gaze to where Abila knelt still praying. "The concubine may see to this task, and see that she is treated with respect," the corner of his lips dropped as his smile vanished, "for she is a friend of my mother."

***

Nezzar stared at Abilkubi, a carefully blank expression on his face. As the head spy continued speaking, Nezzar rested his elbows upon the worn battle table at the centre of his tent and weaved his fingers before his face. The revelation Albilkubi shared banished all thoughts of the Median princess that previously clouded his mind.

"I thought it wise to leave judgment in your hands, my king."

"You have done well." Nezzar gave a slow nod. "And you say this spy guarded the Median princess?"

"Yes, my king." Abilkubi inclined his head in a slight bow. "Only recently, I discovered he was helping the princess gather information on Egypt." He palmed a satchel hanging from his shoulder.

Frowning, Nezzar beckoned with a hand. Albilkubi rushed forward and presented the scrolls. Nezzar eyed all five of them. One appeared rougher than the rest indicating that it had been read the most.

The disloyal spy will be executed. As for these scrolls. Nezzar's gaze lingered upon them, curiosity a mad thing within him.

"The disloyal spy will be taken care of when the time is right. Keep him imprisoned. You are dismissed, and..." raising a hand Nezzar added, "invite the princess in on your way out."

He had been informed she was waiting halfway into his meeting with Abilkubi. Whatever clean-up her mother offered must have been fast. His gaze returned to the scrolls on the table. The princess was an odd one. Gathering information on Egypt? He huffed, the frown upon his brow deepening.