Nezzar

Part Two: A Friend and A Master

"And you say this works?" Nezzar asked with a disbelieving chuckle.

Nebuzaradan sighed. "My king, you asked and I am showing you."

Across from Nezzar, Nebuzaradan was lying on his back on a spread of floor pillows, fingers woven across his chest, incense burning close to his head, eyes closed and breath even. He was whispering some sort of prayer.

Mimicking his recline, Nezzar tried and failed to see how the exercise settled one's mind. The closest he came to peace of mind was during and after his interactions with Belteshazzar.

They were in one of Nezzar's lounge rooms that opened to a spacious courtyard. Vibrant rugs and carpets covered the floor, attending servants stood within signal reach, and a rich array of food and tea was spread between them. And Nezzar was in a fine mood not because of Nebuzaradan's ridiculous breathing exercises and memorised prayers.

To Nezzar's delight, he had experienced another night of the most peaceful of rests. When he awoke this morning, he noticed the sounds of the birds for the first time in what felt like an eternity. As he read the interpretation of his dream documented by his scribes, a new fire was awakened in him. Even now, the fruits, meat, tea—everything tasted delectable on his tongue. He could feel it in the very core of his being, things were beginning to align as they should. What was tilted now stood straight. Anticipation hummed in the background of his waking moments.

Tomorrow, he would oversee another meeting with his generals. There was also the business with the warships. None knew of his strategy yet, how he planned to fall upon Egypt like a sudden ferocious gale.

Nezzar frowned. There was still the concern of traitors among his officials. How to take care of that problem, Nezzar did not know. For his plans to flawlessly unfold, absolute loyalty among his men was a necessity.

"I see you have already put the Judean captive to work."

"Yes," Nezzar answered without much thought. Belteshazzar would present a report once every two days detailing the manner in which he wielded his newly acquired authority. Nezzar was curious to see how the boy would do. It was all so refreshing, this new approach he was taking to everything.

"I know you wish to ask," Nezzar said before chewing a date, enjoying its sweetness. "Go ahead."

"What do you think I wish to ask, your majesty?" Nebuzaradan asked, voice taking a light jesting tone.

"About my wife? My mother has made herself scarce since I refused to bend to her persuasion. I am certain she must have come to you."

"Yes, she did."

There was silence. The melodic call of birds. The swish of the wind as it filtered through the leaves of tall palms.

"And?"

"You are king. Who am I to speak concerning your private affairs?"

Nezzar chuckled, his mood growing even lighter. "I wish to talk about her so speak freely." He would confess to no one about what he did to Amytis that night or his ensuing battle with sleep; the nightmares that left him terrified and weak with relief when blessed wakefulness returned, and the miracle of remembering his dream and sleeping soundly for the first time in years.

"Her palace is not far away, your majesty. You can talk to her in person."

Observing the detailed frescoed ceiling, Nezzar shook his head. "Not yet."

Nezzar could feel Nebuzaradan's question floating in the air above them. Why?

"She wishes to visit her homeland."