Chapter 18

This was a past neither the king nor the queen wished to recall. Whenever Huvali thought of his own sister and nephew Gitandashu nearly killing the young Izmi, he, usually sparing with his affections, could not help but wish he could choke those two bastards himself.

Yet a conflict had arisen between the parliament and the monarchy, rooted in one unchanging reason: the royal offspring were far too few, and thus the bloodline had to be preserved.

Now, as the queen brought up old matters again, Huvali’s face grew cold. "Hadit, if you weren’t so narrow-minded and failed to understand the balance among the concubines, how would I be so passive before the parliament over the issue of heirs? If you had even a bit of cunning, you could have simply raised several children, and once Izmi became king, you could have eliminated them. The laws of King Tileping only prevent heirs from killing each other but say nothing about what a king may do. It was you who deliberately ruined Izmi’s future."

Hadit, hearing the man blame her without reason, was about to retort, "If only you hadn’t chased after so many women—"

"Silence!" Huvali's anger flared, especially at the mention of women. "They’re all your doing, your good sons. They’re already nineteen, yet none have married or even touched a woman. Others say it’s chastity, but behind closed doors, they’re laughing at it. If Izmi had been adept with women, how could he have so easily fallen for that Nile enchantress? This is your fault! A prince raised by women, where is the ruthless fierceness or dominance expected of a future king? He’s meant to lead on the battlefield and conquer in bed—yet with that pitiful demeanor, returning to Hattusas, he couldn’t even handle those old bastards in the parliament."

The queen was left speechless, unable to argue, while Huvali basked in his own satisfaction.

"Tell Mira by your side to stop sabotaging. It’s not just that I disdain her, but Izmi himself looks down on her," Huvali snorted. "Daring to consort with enemy spies, stealing prison keys, nearly letting that Nile enchantress escape—if you dare keep such a reckless woman near Izmi, aren’t you trying to ruin his kingdom?"

The queen did not know of this matter. Upon hearing it, she gasped, her eyes rolling back as if about to faint. Had she truly lost consciousness, Huvali could have slapped her awake without mercy.

The man then tempered his tone. "Izmi is my ‘Tuhukanti,’ my country’s sole heir. Bitao rules the Anatolian plateau, but that mere Salikale seaport hasn’t shaken our foundation—I don’t even bother with it. I’m letting my son gain experience; a seaport is just a small game."

Though crude, the words held a hint of warmth. The queen, almost on the verge of tears, forced them back.

She promptly declared, "As long as you hold no grudges, Izmi is young and will soon sober from his infatuations. I will send Mira back to her clan for proper discipline, ensuring you’ll never see her again in the palace. Upon returning to Hattusas, no matter what the ‘Penkus’ parliament says, as Tavaana, my loyalty lies with you."

King Bitao, uninterested in such declarations, replied wearily, "Fine, you know it’s a bargain. Just carry out the deal properly—don’t overreach."

The slightly softened atmosphere was shattered by Huvali. Since the birth of Midaven, the two had not shared a bed, and the queen’s heart had grown cold alongside.

Huvali, thinking of the butter on the grapevine, wished not to waste time here, though he sometimes also worried about Izmi.

"For his own good or to open his eyes, get him a woman," the man rose, adjusting his clothes casually. "I’ve seen him keep a woman by his side for the first time—a mere female slave, no trouble to deal with after use. If Izmi likes her, the palace has plenty of space. That little brat only likes flat-chested, flat-bottomed girls."

Though reluctant, the queen saw the sense in Huvali’s words. After watching the king depart, she sent for Mira.

---

Inanna watched King Bitao stride away wrapped in his robe, casting a sinister glance back at her. A chill swept through her heart. Soon, the queen’s chambers echoed with heart-wrenching cries.

Mira was dragged out by several strong female officers, her nails tearing at the expensive woolen carpet but failing to move the queen’s heart. She cried out that she truly loved the prince and only committed her mistake to prevent him from being bewitched by the enchantress.

Before she finished, a gag was forced into her mouth, and she was whisked away in a small carriage back to her homeland.

Inanna knelt, unwilling to tempt fate, when a pair of pointed, curved shoes appeared before her—the queen’s confidante, Sanet, stood there.

Since the southern gateway of the empire, the Salikale seaport, was occupied by Egypt, Huvali left half his forces to garrison Nakri and watch the only cousin while leading the rest back to the capital, Hattusas.

On the eve of entering the royal city, the main force camped in a forest outside. Hundreds of tents surrounded a magnificent royal pavilion, the torches lighting half the sky.

King Bitao gathered his trusted men to discuss the strategy for entering the city the next day and even summoned the prince to gauge his reaction.

Since the battle at Salikale, Prince Izmi had grown more silent and composed. Huvali, never close to his son, now found it difficult to speak and could only sternly ask, "Izmi, have you thought about how to explain yourself to the parliament?"

The prince showed little interest, answering stiffly, "The Salikale seaport lost 57 warships, over 2,200 soldiers, the palace was burned to ashes, and the territory occupied by Egypt. The losses and soldiers’ compensation were paid from my personal treasury. As for the lost land, I will explain to the parliament."

"Explain? You explain what?!" Huvali exploded in anger at his son’s demeanor. "Your personal treasury? That’s just what I gave you!"

Among those close to them, King Bitao was unusually harsh, but the prince was stunned. Since his earliest memories, he had been led by his mother through the palace halls of Hattusas, learning the Lian language, reading oracles and poetry, practicing martial arts, and studying kingship. Even his years traveling with Master Labaru had not earned him much attention from his father.

This was the first time, in his memory, that his father had berated him so fiercely. Izmi was dumbfounded, while General Hazas stifled a laugh.

Huvali looked at his son, whom he deemed incapable of holding his own, stroked his large beard, moistened his throat with mead, and then solemnly lectured: "You went to Egypt and failed not only to find Midaven but didn’t even confirm the exact news of her death. That was your first mistake. You captured the Nile daughter as a prisoner but showed mercy—neither killing her nor taking her to bed—and let Manphis gain the advantage. Indecision—that’s your second mistake. Now I ask, what do you plan to do? You show no fighting spirit, only want to pay compensation and apologize, never thinking about restoring your honor. That’s your third mistake. Tell me, how do you intend to take revenge on Egypt?"

The tent fell silent, save for the sound of breathing. Aside from the noble father and son, no one dared even breathe.

Izmi’s despondency was abruptly shattered by his father’s cold water. His sister Midaven had turned to ashes in Egypt; the Nile daughter was likely lying in Manphis’s arms enjoying his favors; and he himself was awaiting the doubts of his subjects, while his loyal followers and worried parents were the most heartbroken.

Huvali knew his son was naturally gifted, but the queen was too strict and upright, and that old Labaru spouted nothing but fanciful nonsense, turning the promising Izmi into a cautious, gentle, and humble youth. Yet in this era, the struggle for supremacy among nations was settled by iron and blood.

Pointing at the map on the table, he said, "If I am right, after Egypt’s triumphant return, Manphis will prepare the wedding with that Nile enchantress. Izmi, I will still send you into Egypt. You must remember, during the preparations for that wedding, find a way to kill Manphis. If not, at least kill that enchantress. When chaos erupts in Egypt, that will be the time for me, King Bitao, to act."

His men praised the king’s wisdom. Izmi thought of redeeming himself; a prince infiltrating and assassinating in Egypt would be hard for the parliament to condemn.

Huvali seemed to read his son’s mind and raised his cup. "Izmi, you are my only son, but I do not want to keep you confined in this palace. If you live up to the name ‘Tuhukanti,’ accomplish something great and return; if you fail, take that name and die with our enemies. That is the man I, Bitao, raise."

The king’s resolute words ignited the tent. A group of men spoke eagerly of war, blood, weapons, and land. All conflict was consumed by ambition.

Seeing his son regain his composure, Huvali was overjoyed. His old habits flared up, and he wished to train the prince into adulthood, so he would not suffer again from that flat-chested, flat-bottomed woman.

Clapping his hands, several beautiful handmaidens entered with jugs of wine and horn cups, offering fine drink to the empire’s rulers and officials.

Izmi sipped the pomegranate wine slowly, lips stained red like blood, eyes sharp and fixed on the map before him, ignoring the women trying to entice him.

This was the first time the king had kept the prince at a banquet with female attendants. General Hazas and Kaisi held women in their arms but secretly watched the prince’s reaction—and were ultimately disappointed.

Huvali grew restless, drinking and fondling the round, full buttocks of a new favorite, yet his son, in the most restless years of youth, showed no response to the voluptuous attendants. Was that brat even his blood?

The queen, hearing the commotion in the king’s tent, asked after the female slave.

Sanet quickly guessed her intention and whispered, "She’s been disciplined."

"Then bring her over." Though uneasy about arranging a woman for her son, the queen had to do her utmost since even the king agreed.

Sanet bowed and summoned Inanna from the female officers’ tents. Seeing her properly dressed, she gave her a quick grooming, handed her a jug of wine, and sent her into the royal tent to serve the prince.