“What is it?” The tension in the other’s voice made Zarek stiffen.
Eparan licked his lips nervously. “Chief General Saliba wants to see you. Now,” he emphasized when Zarek continued to stare at him.
Eparan’s words cleared his mind and he swung his legs over the side of the bed and groped in the darkness for his sandals, not even thinking to call a servant. He was working through the knotted laces when he thought to question his bodyguard further, “What happened?”
The older man looked ill at ease, “I am not entirely sure, a servant came bearing a message from the General, requiring you to come as quickly as you could.”
Zarek finally finished tying the laces to his sandals and stood. “Have a servant bring the horses around.”
“It has already been done sir, the others are waiting outside.”
Zarek nodded appreciatively and hurried down the darkened corridors passing sleepy and bewildered servants as he went. Eparan was right beside him as he stepped out in the cool night air where the courtyard was lit with torches. He saw that Natan, Gabri, Malicu, and Husia were waiting to escort him.
Grabbing the silken mane of his mount he pulled himself into the saddle in one fluid movement. He took the reins in his hands and jabbed his knees into the horse’s side. The horse lunged forward and galloped down the stone rutted road. Leaving the well-lighted courtyard behind made it difficult for him to adjust to the darkened roads.
He had made the trip more times than he could count and was able to maneuver the darkened streets until his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light of the moon. Not too much time had passed before he found himself riding up to the gate of the General’s Estate. The guards must have been keeping watch for them because the moment they arrived the gate doors were swung open and they found themselves in a larger, well-lighted courtyard.
As soon as he was dismounted a servant ushered him to the General’s study. He arrived breathless and tried to read the General’s face so as to hint on what was the nature of the summons. By the look of it, it appeared to be something of a most serious nature and Zarek’s heart slowed to a dull hammering pace. Whatever had happened, there was no help for it now. He pulled himself straighter, “I came as soon as I got your message.”
The next words that came from Saliba’s mouth stunned him and he felt the world slow. “Uriti has been murdered.”
He stared at the General, hoping that Saliba would explain but the man seemed to still be in a daze himself. He swallowed hard. “Murdered? By who?”
Saliba gestured helplessly. “It is hard to tell, it is being investigated now. It is believed that he was poisoned.”
Zarek still felt dazed though the shock was wearing off. It was hard to grasp the reality that the man they had just dined with hours earlier was now dead. A new thought came to him and he felt his stomach twist, “What of Astarte?”
There was a glimmer of relief in Saliba’s eyes, and his shoulders sagged. “She lives. I think it would be best for both of us to go there and see if we can be of some assistance. I expect that the King will be wanting a full report before long.”
Zarek nodded, a strange sensation of relief and something else when he heard Astarte was well. He followed Saliba to where a litter with servants, was waiting. The General motioned him inside and Zarek waved at his body guards. Eparan nodded and he and the others moved to join the procession.
Once inside the curtained litter, he found the General too absorbed in his own thoughts to continue their conversation. Left to his own, his mind worked on the different scenarios on how the murder could have taken place and who was responsible. An alarming thought came to him and he looked quickly at the General wondering if the man had guessed his thoughts, but the man was rubbing his beard and looking through the curtain to see how far along they were in their journey.
Relieved to know that he wasn’t being scrutinized he thought it over again. It was possible the Uriti could have been poisoned at the banquet Saliba had held. Astarte had claimed that the General was someone they could trust, but Zarek’s suspicious nature, though the man had done nothing but good to him, refused to dismiss the man as a potential suspect.
It would have been very easy to have slipped poison in the cup, the wine had been flowing easily then and he was sure Uriti had not been as alert as usual. What was more, it would be difficult to trace it back to the original source. There were no witnesses. The thought made him uneasy.
He stared at the curtains in uncomfortable silence. He couldn’t trust anyone. He hated court life even more now. Why would he want to try to live his life among men who lived without honor? He chastised himself for trusting the General as much as he had and purposed to distance himself.
The litter was jostled as one of the bears stumbled on an uneven stone in the pathway and he gripped the side of his seat tighter. They had arrived at the Chief Priest’s quarters. The litter was set on the ground and he stepped out. The courtyard was lit and soldiers lined the walkways and walls. He was surprised they had been able to reach the courtyard so easily but then remembered that it was still late at night and most everyone would still be sleeping and unaware of the tragedy that had occurred.
He motioned for his men to stay where they were and hurried to follow Saliba into the house. Now that they were in better lighting conditions he cast a glance at the General’s face and found it ashen and grim. He bit his lip and knew in his heart that Saliba was not guilty. He felt ashamed for a moment for thinking such thoughts but then shook himself free of them, it was right for him to take every scenario into consideration. One couldn’t be too careful.
Saliba turned to him suddenly after conversing with some servants, “I will go and see to the body; perhaps your services could be used elsewhere. Astarte, I am told, has not left her father’s pavilion since learning of the news. Perhaps you can offer her a word of comfort.”
Zarek nodded mutely and led himself down the halls; he had visited the Chief Priest on many occasions and had learned the general outlay of the buildings. He found the pavilion without trouble, but faltered when he saw a lone figure crumpled on a bench. The sheer curtains cast shadows as they fluttered in the night breeze. The nearby torches flickered as he climbed the steps. He was about to speak when she looked up and her eyes met his. His heart lurched at the hopeful look.
Seeing her tear streaked face and her eyes filled with anguish, all words fled him and his hand fell limply back to his side. He didn’t know why, but he had seen a brief glimpse of his mother in her face. What was it? Betrayal, fear, sorrow, pain? He swallowed again and was swept with an overwhelming sense to protect her; protect her the way his mother should have been protected. As much as his mind fought against the swiftness of the situation, something inside him rebelled.
He wanted to offer soothing words of comfort, but only a hoarse whisper escaped from his lips. “Astarte.”
She blinked and tears welled in her eyes again though they didn’t fall. “What happens now?” her voice quavered. He saw her slim shoulders lift, and knew she was trying to be strong.
“Do you have relatives?”
“Yes, distant ones. But I do not want to go back there. I fear they would try to use me.” Her voice was broken and soft.
Zarek pressed his lips together. “Friends?”
“No.”
Even in her grief, Astarte was still beautiful despite her tear streaked face and reddened eyes. Her hair hung about her shoulders in tangled dishevelment. Then her strength deserted her, and a small sob escaped her and she turned away and buried her face in her hands, weeping softly. Her world had been ripped from her, much like how it had been ripped from him so many years ago.
When a female servant entered the pavilion and knelt beside her distraught mistress, Zarek left. He wandered down the halls until he found Saliba. The man looked tired and grim, “Tis a nasty business to bury a friend to betrayal. It makes one feel old.”
Zarek glanced at the scrolls strewn across the table Saliba stood next to, “Have you found anything?”
“There are a few suspects, but there will be much more investigation to be conducted before the matter is all settled and done with. I fear for Astarte, without her father she has no one to protect her. If it is my guess, she will be claimed in marriage by someone who will want to use her wealth and position.”
“Perhaps, she has relatives.” But even as the words left his mouth he remembered Astarte’s words. “Is there nothing to be done for her?”
“I am afraid not. Her father was not clear on what charge should be taken of her, or who her guardian would be. I am sure he must have thought that he would be spared due to his rank and role in the priesthood.” Saliba blinked and stared at the scroll in his hand.
“I will marry Astarte.” The words were blurted from his mouth before he even had time to comprehend what he had said. What had possessed him? Saliba looked just as surprised, and Zarek made a visible effort to gather his thoughts and restate his solution. “I will marry Astarte.”
“Are you sure? I mean, I could arrange the marriage without any opposition I am sure, but marriage is a big decision. I had thought you were not interested in her.”
For a moment Zarek’s resolve wavered and then he remembered the forlorn brown eyes that looked at him with such hope. “Her wealth and position matters little to me, it is true. However, I feel as if I owe her father something. He helped me adjust in Nineveh when I had few friends, he helped increase my learning, somehow that must be worth something.”
The older man looked at him. “Zarek my friend, normally I would say that marriage should go beyond obligation. But it is because I recall the memory of my sweet wife who died many years ago. Now, I will say that obligation and duty is perhaps a solid foundation for a proposed marriage, but are you sure she would agree?”
Zarek swallowed. “No, but her other choices do not seem favorable. I am sure she will remain sensible despite the grief she is enduring. Perhaps you could tell her of the proposition, maybe then she might be more inclined to agree.” Zarek’s stomach knotted, the thought of marriage filled him with a strange sensation.
“If that is what you propose then, I will make the matter known to her.” Saliba suddenly clasped Zarek’s arm, the man looked unusually emotional. “I am sure that you are well aware, that now her father is dead, a new Chief Priest will be appointed. And more than likely, the successor will not look on her kindly. You may be placing yourself in a more dangerous and risky position than you know.”
Zarek couldn’t register the warning, it seemed distant and harmless. “I do not fear the future.” He waited until Saliba gave a slow nod and released his arm before he made his way back to the front courtyard. His men were still there waiting; Natan’s face was twisted with worry and sorrow. It was then that Zarek remembered that Natan had also become friends with the kind priest. The man would be missed by both of them. He tried to push away the sorrow that hung over the courtyard like a dark cloak. Life at this time, was an uncertain thing.
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