Nezzar

Part One: A Generous King

Amytis stifled a sigh.

The music. The endless announcements of dignitaries. The gift presentations. None had come from Nebuchadnezzar's direct family line to present gifts. He had no brothers, but what about uncles? Or cousins? Did he have them killed? She hadn't the boldness to ask, so she remained silent on the matter, only nodding whenever he leaned close to whisper bits of information.

"Do not hesitate to tell me if you find a gift displeasing."

"Certainly, my king."

The words of the queen's mother were a muzzle upon her mouth. Anyone who offered a gift that was not to her liking would be put to death. That was not something she wanted on her conscience. So far, she was yet to see a gift that pulled her attention. There were myriads of incense and perfumes. Great piles of the finest fabrics. Even slaves—little girls barely the age of ten. It was usual for Babylonian noblewomen to have such slaves in their company to weave their hair, sing, and fan them when the weather was scorching.

Amytis was still curious as to what gift Nebuchadnezzar intended to give her. He claimed his gift would make her weep for joy. She doubted the possibility. Will he be offended if she does not weep at his gift? He had warned her not to offer insincere smiles, but how was she to react if she felt nothing for his gift? The thought introduced a mild panic.

Raising her silver goblet to her lips, Amytis sipped more wine. She was familiar with her threshold but the wine offered at the king's table tasted a tad different from what she was used to. Limiting herself to sips now and then made sense. Perhaps she should drink more. Get a bit uninhibited. After all, they were to consummate their marriage later tonight.

Just when Amytis brought her cup to her lips for another sip, something unexpected occurred. A hunched frail figure was led into the feasting hall. At the door, the announcer cried, "Zedekiah, king of Judah."

The hum of conversation died as all eyes followed his slow shuffling movement. A fine purple robe hung from his thin shoulders. His complexion was sallow, limbs skeletal, cheeks hollow, and his eyes—if he had them—were hidden behind a filthy blindfold.

A false smile appeared on Nebuchadnezzar's face as he raised his goblet of beer. "Esteemed guests, welcome king Zedekiah. Give a cheer for him," he said with exaggerated enthusiasm. The gathering acted as they were commanded.

As Nebuchadnezzar's gaze lingered on the blind king, his smile suddenly slipped.

"Give him no assistance," he said, tone turning flat. The music stopped. Silence reigned. "Let him walk to the table unaided."

It was painful to watch. The way the fallen king tripped over the hem of his too-long robe. His hands trembling as they stretched before him, searching for purchase.

After drowning the content of his goblet, Nebuchadnezzar stood. He began to speak as he made his way down the dais with purposeful steps. "I am a kind man to those who appreciate my generosity and act accordingly."

Amytis carefully placed her goblet upon the table. She could feel her pulse thumping in her ears..

"As for the ungrateful..." Hard eyes roved over the gathering. The cheerful air of the wedding feast dried up. Why was he doing this now? Was this an indirect message to an official? Perhaps he was sending her a message concerning how to respond to his generosity. No. There was no way this display was a warning aimed at her. No way.

"This king," Nebuchadnezzar nodded in Zedekiah's direction, "thought to spit upon the hand of peace I offered. He mocked my kindness and brazenly colluded with my enemy."