"He is a coward, but he can work himself up to a frenzy. They are all like that, the Jews: they are cowards, but if it is anything to do with their God they are frantic. And it is not only he—he is merely the knife, and the hand that holds the knife is strong. Soon there will be things happening to make one dizzy, my lad."
"It is dreadful to think of, father."
"Don't be uneasy, Sparrow—you may be a falcon yet."
Dio listened with her heart beating so violently that she was afraid they would hear it behind the partition. She understood that a vile and evil plot was being hatched against the king—and she seemed to have a share in it; perhaps that was why she suffered so, unable to decide whether to go or to stay.
Suddenly there was a sound of footsteps in the next room—not in the one where they were whispering. Both halves of the door were flung open and a huge hunting-cat, half panther, glided in noiselessly like a shadow; behind it, as its guard of honour, came the runners, the fan bearers, the bodyguards, and, last of all, walking barefoot as noiselessly as the cat—shoes were taken off indoors—a slender and graceful young man of medium height, with an ordinary pleasant face. He was wearing a plain white robe, a smooth black wig, a broad necklace that came half way down to his waist, and he held in his hand a long gilded wooden staff adorned with a golden figure of the goddess Maat—Truth. This was the King's son-in-law, the Viceroy of Thebes, the real or supposed son of King Amenhotep—Tutankhaton.
He walked up to a carved ivory and ebony chair that stood on a platform in between four pillars in the middle of the room, and sat down. Approaching him Dio knelt before him. He kissed her on the forehead and said:
"Rejoice, my daughter! The grace of the god Aton be with you! Leave us," he added, addressing his suite.
When all had gone out of the room he moved to the day couch and, half reclining on it, motioned to Dio to sit down beside him; but he did it unobtrusively so that there was no need for her to notice the gesture unless she chose to do so. She did not notice it and sat down opposite him on a folding chair with a seat of plaited leather straps.
The cat walked up to her and rubbed itself against her legs, thrusting its head between her knees and mewing loudly, unlike a cat. Dio disliked cats and especially this one: she fancied it was a huge, black, slimy reptile. The cat never left Tuta's side and followed him about like a shadow.
"Why are you sitting here alone? Why didn't you send in your name?" he asked in a low caressing voice that sounded like a cat purring.