“No. I asked for you.” The woman lifted the veil, revealing her somber face and her ivory hair. Belshazzar’s wife.
“Queen Ishvari, I am honored. How may I be of service to you?”
“Come to the banquet hall,” she said, “and read for the king the writing that he sees upon the wall.”
“The king sees writing upon the wall?” Daniel asked, cautious. “What sort of writing, my lady queen?”
“The sort of writing that only a king’s eyes may see.” Queen Ishvari chose her words carefully; Daniel understood exactly what awaited him in the king’s banquet hall. A drunken, delusional king and—
And writing upon the wall that he alone sees. O Lord, what is wrong with these kings of Babylon? Daniel vividly recalled the night that King Nebuchadnezzar demanded a dream interpreted—a dream the king didn’t even remember. Now Nebuchadnezzar’s son needed invisible writing read to him.…
“O queen, if only a king’s eyes see the words, what can I do? I am no king.”
Ishvari regarded him with calm, steady eyes. “You are the Dream Master. You tell the meaning of dreams, and what is this writing the king sees upon the wall but another form of dream? The king will believe what you read to him. I could tell him what the words tell him, but he will not listen to me.”
“King Belshazzar may not listen to me either,” Daniel said, and Ishvari’s crimson-tinted lips curved in a bitter smile.
“Perhaps he will not—but you and I will have done our duty.”
Daniel had sighed, and gone to tell Belshazzar what anyone sober could have said to him: that with Darius’s army at the gates of Babylon, Belshazzar was doomed—
—news Belshazzar was too drunk to understand.
* * *
Darius proved an enlightened conqueror. Once Belshazzar was dead, Darius granted clemency to Queen Ishvari and her infant daughter. And Darius, seeing no reason to execute good servants merely because they had served their king well, left the palace hierarchy in place. More, Darius sought out those whom Belshazzar had forgotten; Daniel found himself once more in a king’s favor and raised to high rank.
“What is it with you and kings?” Arioch asked. “Do I wind up made a general? No, I’m still just captain of the king’s guard.”
“In other words, you have one of the most important posts there is. And I suppose Darius thinks I may be useful,” Daniel offered.
“Right. That’s why you’re set up over all the other princes and governors. Be careful, Daniel. Try to remember you have a food-taster.”
Arioch was proven right—although it wasn’t poison Daniel’s enemies used, but law.
* * *
It was the king’s custom to hold court and receive petitioners, and to grant requests honoring his favorites. And when that request was that Darius decree that for a month any man who prayed to any god or man save Darius should be thrown to lions, at first Darius smiled, thinking this a jest. But it was no jest, and upon the petition being repeated, Darius agreed.
“I hate to say this, Arioch,” Samamat said, when the new law had been read out and posted at every city gate, “but I don’t think Darius is any better than the Babylonian kings. What kind of mad law is that?”
“The kind of law that gets Daniel thrown to lions,” Arioch answered grimly. “Look, Daniel, I want you to promise you won’t pray to anyone or anything but King Darius for the next month. Better yet, don’t pray at all.”
Daniel knew he couldn’t swear that. “I will pray only in private, silently.”
“It won’t help,” Arioch said.
“Which is why I won’t promise, Arioch.”
“Daniel’s right.” Samamat touched his hand, lightly. “All someone has to do is swear they saw or heard him praying to his god and not to Darius.”
“You mean lie? To the great king himself? Yes, you’re probably right.” Arioch turned to Daniel. “Well, try to stay out of trouble and close to the king.”
But even that tactic couldn’t save Daniel for long. Sooner or later, he had to go aside, and once he was out of the king’s sight, he was doomed.
* * *
King Darius did his best to mitigate Daniel’s fate: offered the accusers gifts to change their testimony, attempted to alter the penalty. But he had sealed the decree into Median and Persian law, and such a law could not be changed—even by the king himself.
All the king could do for Daniel was furnish his cell with a comfortable bed and provide good food and wine. And allow him visitors. Daniel always suspected King Darius had conspired with Arioch to arrange Daniel’s deliverance; even Arioch’s resourcefulness had some limits.…
“Daniel,” said Arioch, “is it absolutely impossible for you to stay out of trouble with kings?”
“It wasn’t my fault.”
“It never is. So—lions.”
“Yes,” Daniel said. “Lions. Maybe if I sit quietly, they’ll leave me alone.”
“Maybe if you sit quietly, they’ll have an easier time eating you. No—don’t say anything. Let me think.” Arioch always liked to pretend thinking was a difficult task that he undertook as infrequently as possible.
“Arioch—don’t tell Sama. She’ll just worry.”
“You think so? And by the way, do you really think the entire city—including Samamat—doesn’t already know? The men stalking you made sure the whole thing was bellowed in the marketplace and from the top of the Hanging Gardens to the bottom. Darius isn’t getting out of carrying out the penalty.”
Daniel sighed. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? You’re about to be devoured by lions, and all you can say is ‘I’m sorry’?”
Daniel thought about it; shrugged. “What else can I say? King Darius can’t flout his own law.”
“Does the law actually say you have to be thrown into a den of live lions?” Arioch suddenly stopped talking, and when Daniel began to answer, Arioch held up his hand. Daniel obediently waited; clearly Arioch had just thought of something.
One of those clever ideas he always swears he’s too dull-witted to think of—Daniel only hoped Arioch’s idea wouldn’t cause even more trouble. You never knew where one of Arioch’s ideas would lead you.
“All right,” Arioch said at last. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Do you know if Samamat uses poppy syrup?”
“To read the stars? I doubt it.”
“Well, how would I know what astrologers use? I’ll ask her—she may know where I can get the stuff.”
“Arioch, you can get poppy syrup from half the merchants in the Street of Spices.”
“Not as much as we’re going to need.”
“And how much are we going to need?” Daniel asked.
“As much as it takes to send half a dozen lions to the Land of Dreams. Oh, and we’ll need meat to put the poppy in. I don’t think lions will just drink it.”
“Probably not,” Daniel said. “Do you actually think this is going to work?”
“It’ll work better than not feeding the lions meat and poppy. With any luck, they’ll be too full and too sleepy to bother with you. And trust me, Daniel, King Darius will be a lot happier if you aren’t devoured by lions. I like kings to be happy.”
“But how will I explain—”
“Still being alive? Let’s see—you pulled a thorn out of the lions’ paws when they were cubs and they’re so grateful they didn’t eat you. You’re a Jew, and lions don’t eat Jews. You’re a smart man, Daniel—you’ll think of something.”
* * *
Even knowing that Arioch had personally watched the lions devour the drugged meat, Daniel found it hard to attain the calm he knew would help him survive the night. He managed to walk into the lions’ den outwardly serene; to remain still as the iron-barred gate shut behind him and the bolt slid home.
The lions—three full-maned males—looked up as Daniel entered. No lioness; good. The males were more impressive but less dangerous than the faster, smarter females. One lion heaved himself
to his feet and took an unsteady pace forward. Daniel didn’t move. The lion apparently decided the effort was too great, and collapsed back onto the stone floor.
Well, this is going to be boring. I hope. Daniel carefully moved until his back was against the wall; slowly lowered himself until he was sitting. The floor was cold and hard, but Daniel didn’t care. His entire attention was on the three lions. The beasts weren’t asleep, but they weren’t alert either. With luck—And with Your help, Lord—the lions would leave him alone. Arioch had ensured they weren’t hungry, so as long as Daniel didn’t do anything to engage their attention, the lions probably would lapse into slumber.
The largest lion turned his head and stared at Daniel, then yawned. The lion had a fine set of teeth, with fangs that looked as long as Daniel’s hand. The rank odor of a meat-eater’s breath filled the damp air.
Daniel sighed. It was going to be a long night.
* * *
Yes, that was a very long night. Sometimes Daniel missed Babylon, but he rarely missed its mad kings—and merely sitting on the throne in Babylon seemed to drive kings mad. At least Daniel had survived everything Babylon had hurled at him, just as Arioch and Samamat had survived.
Lions, idols, dragons …
Daniel always swore the dragon had not been his fault. He had merely pointed out to King Darius that just because food offerings disappeared from a temple every night, it didn’t mean the idol worshipped there was a god.
“No?” King Darius had said. “Then who eats the food, if it is not the god?”
“Probably the priests and their families,” Daniel said. “That’s what ate the food offered at our temple in Jerusalem—except nobody there pretended the Lord our God ate the temple offerings.”
Irritated, Darius had been intent on executing the priests and their families for cheating worshippers, and Daniel had only talked the king out of such a massacre by offering to prove that no one seriously believed the stone idol ate the food.
“Well, you’re probably right. Now I suppose you’ll say the dragon in the Temple of Bel isn’t a god either,” Darius said.
“The king is wise,” Daniel had told him, and Darius laughed. Daniel then spoke seven words too many. “I’ll also say it isn’t a dragon.”
King Darius conveniently forgot the matter of the vanishing temple offerings. “Of course it’s a dragon. It may even be a god, although it’s not one I worship myself. Go prove it’s not a god, Daniel. But I defy even you to prove it’s not a dragon.”
* * *
“Daniel,” said Arioch, “how do you get yourself into these things?”
“Never mind that now. The important thing is for Daniel not to be eaten by the dragon.” Samamat began dropping dried figs into a leather pouch. “Should I put in some of the roast lamb as well?”
“Why give the dragon any ideas about eating meat?” Arioch regarded Daniel sadly. “Daniel, when will you learn to leave well enough alone? Or to agree with a king once in a while?”
“I did agree with the king. He said I’d say the dragon wasn’t a god, and I agreed with him.”
“Oh, Daniel—” Samamat shook her head ruefully and handed him the bag of dried figs. Daniel looked at his two friends and sighed. “I’m sorry—”
“You always are.” Samamat kissed his cheek. “Try not to argue with the dragon, Daniel.”
Daniel tucked the bag of figs into his belt. “Do either of you know anything about this dragon? Have either of you ever been to the Temple of Bel?”
“Me? Set foot in a temple? You know me better than that. I don’t supposed you’d condescend to take a weapon with you?”
“And my gods aren’t earthbound,” Samamat added.
“No weapon,” Daniel told Arioch.
* * *
The Dragon Temple crouched, old and squat, in the heart of the temple district. Small, almost overwhelmed by the brilliant new buildings surrounding it, it hardly seemed an appropriate place for any god, let alone one in the form of a dragon. Not that Daniel believed what lay within any of the temples was a god at all, but the Babylonians believed temple idols to be their gods—And you’d think they’d treat a live dragon god especially well. Dragons decorated the Ishtar Gate, after all.
In honor of Daniel’s inspection, the Dragon Temple was empty, for which favor Daniel was duly grateful. Talking to priests who knew he’d come to judge their temple on behalf of the king meant both priests and Daniel were ill at ease. However, he wished the temple were better lit; the sanctuary lay in deep shadow. A low basalt altar that reminded Daniel of a feeding trough stood between him and whatever moved restlessly in that shadow.
“I come on behalf of King Darius,” Daniel said. “I mean no disrespect.”
“Truly?” A woman’s voice. Doubtful, suspicious; Daniel couldn’t blame her.
Trapped in a place like this—“Truly. Will you speak with me?”
A pause. “We will.” A moment later a creature padded out of the darkness behind the altar.
I was wrong. It is a dragon—
A living image of those decorating the Ishtar Gate, the dragon was large as a pony. Its neck snaked long and sinuous; its golden eyes gazed at Daniel, intent. Hungry …
“She thinks you have an offering for her.” The woman who spoke moved supple as the dragon, as if she danced through the temple’s heavy air. She stopped and looked at Daniel with the same intent gaze. “Did you bring her an offering, my lord Daniel?”
“You know my name?”
“All Babylon knows your name.”
Daniel studied her: small, honey-colored, head shaved smooth; mouth red as poppies and eyelids painted green as the dragon’s scales. A gold chain hung with scarabs circled her hips. Tattoos swirled over her body. Since she wore only air, Daniel had no trouble studying the tattoos. Lotus flowers. Winged serpents. The heavy outline of an Eye of Ra just below her throat. The Eye gazed at Daniel accusingly.
“Egypt,” Daniel said, and she smiled.
“Egypt,” she agreed. She laid her hand on the dragon’s neck. “Did you bring her an offering?” Her tone hinted that Daniel had better have brought the dragon an offering.
Daniel pulled out the dried figs. “I brought these. Can she eat these?”
The dragon answered his question by gulping up the figs. It had a very long tongue and once the figs vanished down its gullet, the dragon licked Daniel’s hand hopefully.
“Yes,” said the dragon’s keeper.
Daniel ignored the mockery. “Does she have a name?”
“Of course. But why does my lord Daniel need that knowledge?”
“I’m not going to hurt her—look, you must have a name as well.”
The dragon’s priestess stared at him. “You’re not here to harm her?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then why are you here?”
How do I get into these conversations? Daniel sighed. “To prove the dragon’s not a god.”
“And if she is not?”
“Well…” Daniel was no dragon expert, but the creature looked—unhappy. Both dragon and priestess showed bone pressing through skin; the beast’s scales seemed dull. Thin and forlorn, both of them. Dragon it may be, but it’s still just a big lizard—a very big lizard—and this is no place to keep the poor thing. Lizards liked sunlight. So did Egyptians.
“If she’s not a god,” Daniel said, “she needs to live someplace better for her than this temple.”
The dragon-priestess smiled. “Then I will swear that she is not a god upon any holy object you choose.”
Lying through your teeth, to get your dragon out of this hole. Well, it is only a lizard. Certainly it’s not a god! “I’m sure that will convince the king—”
“My name is Amunet-Nefer-Setmut-Elu-ki,” said the priestess. “You may call me Elu-ki, if it pleases you.” She curved her arm over the dragon’s neck. “And this is—” she hesitated, then looked straight into Daniel’s eyes as she said, “—my pet. You may call her Bel.”
Whether it pleases me or not.
“Now may we return home?”
Daniel sighed. “To Egypt? I’ll ask King Darius.” He regarded the dragon with interest. “I was expecting something bigger.”
“She will grow as the years grow. And she is quite big enough to bite. Hard.” Elu-ki smiled sweetly at Daniel. She had very white teeth. “When will you ask King Darius if we may go home?”
* * *
Daniel wasn’t surprised when King Darius refused his request that priestess and dragon be returned to Egypt. The king did grant Daniel’s next request, and Daniel returned to the Temple of Bel to explain.
“I’m sorry, Elu-ki, but King Darius won’t let you return to Egypt—not right now, at any rate. But—” And I don’t believe I actually begged the king for this, and what Arioch will have to say I don’t want even to think about! “—the king will let you both stay with me. And I’ll try to get you home to Egypt. Someday.”
“Someday. Someday is like tomorrow. It never comes.” Elu-ki shrugged. “Still, ‘someday’ is better than ‘never.’ We thank you, Daniel Dream-Master. Now may we leave this place?”
* * *
To Daniel’s surprise, Arioch merely regarded Elu-ki and her dragon and sighed. “Don’t tell me,” Arioch begged. “Just—don’t.”
Samamat laughed. “Welcome, priestess. I’m—”
“The lady Samamat, reader of stars.” Elu-ki tugged on the plaited leather rope attached to Bel’s wide collar as the creature attempted to shove its nose into a basket full of apricots Samamat held. Samamat smiled and offered Bel a handful of apricots; the dragon gulped down the fruit and licked Samamat’s hand.
“All right, Arioch. Say it.” Daniel waited, resigned.
Arioch raised his eyebrows. “Me? I’m not going to say a word, Daniel. Not one word.”
“It wasn’t my…” Unable to truthfully say bringing them here hadn’t been his idea, Daniel settled for, “fault. Really.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to hear this,” said Arioch, conveniently forgetting his plea that Daniel not tell him a word about the matter.
“Well, you see…” Keeping an eye on the dragon, Daniel explained precisely how he wound up bringing home an Egyptian priestess and a dragon-god. “I didn’t think the king would let me, but when I told him the dragon would probably die if left in the temple, he—”
Game of Queens Page 5