out of the hall to an inner stairwell. Instead of ascending the stairs, she opened a door and vanished. Kysen hurried after her. As he pulled the door closed, he glimpsed a shadow sailing into the stairwell. By its shape and the odor of honey and decay, he knew it was Tcha.
Shutting the door, Kysen found himself in an open garden court with a central reflection pool. Ese was reclining on a couch beneath an awning at the opposite end of the pool. A Syrian slave waved a white ostrich feather fan over her mistress. When Kysen approached, Ese pointed to a cushion on the ground beside the couch. He lowered himself to it and accepted wine in a vessel of unusual design, a bronze drinking cup shaped like the head of a gazelle. The modeled nose was made to be set in a stand.
'You have become Mycenaean,' Kysen said.
'For the moment.'
'After this, what will you become?'
Ese lifted her face to the silver moonlight. 'Babylonian, perhaps.' She glanced down at him. 'Perhaps a Hittite.'
'Not a wise choice.'
'I choose what provokes interest and what tantalizes.'
Ese lay unmoving, her stillness the watchful ease of a lioness as she contemplates the hunt. Kysen had yet to become accustomed to the woman's outward calm and inner vigilance.
Kysen stared up at her, trying not to fall victim to perfection of skin, softly curling hair, and an indomitable will. 'You'll choose to become a Hittite.'
'I will?'
'It is the most daring of choices.'
A flash of contempt showed in the woman's eyes. 'I'll tell you something. Men are stupid to waste gold on places like my Divine Lotus.'
'All of us?'
'Shall we compare? Are women's thoughts dominated by their genitals?'
'We farm and hunt and build great temples,' Kysen protested.
Ese gave him an unimpressed glance. 'Only after your urges have been assuaged. Without relief, none of you could build a straw hut.' She burst out with abrupt violence, 'You disgust me.'
She wasn't looking at him; she was looking at the past. The violence of her speech had been provoked by whatever invisible scene floated before her eyes.
'I regret that misfortune has been your lot in your dealings with men.'
Ese dragged her gaze back to him and nodded, as if he'd confirmed some judgment she had already formed. 'I have heard a rumor about you.'
'Oh.' He was suddenly wary. There shouldn't be any rumors about Nen.
'One of my women said a vegetable seller at the docks told her you chased down a thief who tried to steal her best melon.'
'Is that all?'
Leaning over a table set beside her couch, Ese dipped her fingers in an alabaster pot filled with perfumed salve and began rubbing it on her throat. Kysen followed the path of her fingers as they swept down and across a smooth curve. Then he pressed his lips together and jerked his gaze back to his wine. He was angry with himself for falling victim to Ese's manipulations. He knew she never did or said anything out of innocence. He looked up at her again and found her watching him with a faint smile of derision. He felt like a foolish, tumescent boy.
'You may not be as stupid as most,' she said. 'You're a selfish conniver, a trader in information to the one who can pay the most, yet you prevented an old woman from being robbed of a simple melon. Do you know how much one melon means to such as she?'
Kysen scowled at her. 'The wretch pushed the aged one into the dirt. I hate men who use their fists on-'
'Yes?'
'I have more important things to do than prattle about old women. I want you to set your women and your band of-shall we say servants-to making inquiries.'
'What kind of inquiries?'
Kysen slowly inspected the garden court for intruders. 'Nothing urgent or perilous. I want to find anyone who served her majesty, Queen Nefertiti, the justified, during her last months.'
'No.'
'No? Why not?'
'I keep away from the affairs of pharaohs, living or dead, and I especially shun prying into the secrets of Great Royal Wives.'
'I'm not interested in secrets. I'm interested in hiring servants who know court ways.'
'You aren't. You couldn't afford to hire them. What are you really after, Nen?'
Kysen threw up his hands. 'There's no hidden purpose this time. I've been paid well for my previous work, and now I've put aside enough to employ a few servants. Think, mistress. If a man intends to rise high enough to attract the notice of great ones, he must learn from others how to conduct himself in a manner pleasing to them.'
He bore Ese's scrutiny in silence. Repeating his arguments or decorating them with particulars would increase the woman's disbelief. Setting down his wine, he sighed and shook his head.
'Of course, if you're unable to provide this simple information, I'll get it somewhere else. I only came to you because you're so reliable. And if I must part with a fee, I would rather it go to you.'
'I had no idea you cared so much for me.'
Kysen grinned at her. 'You're a beautiful woman, and you're right. I was more concerned that I remain a valued customer, so that you would look upon me with favor, should I need your assistance in my rise among the great ones.'
'Ah, now the plan is revealed. But I think not all of it. You don't actually need the servants of this queen.'
'I am counting on the… the disgrace under which they fell to make them eager to take any position, even if it wouldn't provide the kind of maintenance usual for a royal servant.'
'At last, dear Nen. Something believable comes from your pretty mouth.'
Ese put her wine aside and sat up. She stared past him into the moonlit water of the reflection pool. A frog hopped off a lotus leaf into the water with a plop. A faint breeze brought the scent of fresh water and lotus flowers to Kysen, and he inhaled it, cherishing the renewal it brought to his body and ka.
Suddenly his hostess stood and walked past him to the edge of the pool. She turned and came back to him, the softness of her face hardened by calculation. Facing him, she raked him with a glance from hair to sandal.
'Very well. But finding such people will take months, if I can find them at all.'
'I don't want to wait.'
Ese tapped her forefinger against her chin. 'Then I think we will have to go to Othrys.'
He hadn't anticipated this. The last man he wanted to bring into this inquiry was Othrys. There was enough danger without involving a man with the scruples of a cobra.
'It seems a trivial matter for Othrys.'
Again he was subjected to that ruthless appraisal that made him feel like a sacrificial bull.
'Sweet, conniving Nen,' Ese breathed. She touched his cheek with her fingertips. 'You're a lovely boy, but even the beauty of the gods won't persuade me to enter into this questionable arrangement without precautions.' Her fingers left his skin, but she lowered her voice to a whisper. 'If you want me to hunt down the servants of a dead heretic queen, you will accept my conditions. Say yes, exquisite one, or I shall be displeased.'
He'd come too far to refuse, and he'd seen the results of Ese's displeasure. 'How could I say anything else to you, whose beauty surpasses that of the moon?'
'Someday I'm going to cut out that facile tongue of yours,' Ese said. 'Come.'
'Where are we going?'
'To Othrys.'
'There's no need for haste.'
'Why the reluctance?' Ese asked. 'Do you have something to hide from Othrys?'
'Of course not.'
