Free The Forgotten Tale Of Larsa by Seja Majeed Page A

pointedly. His long nose twitched. He had a cunning ploy, one that – if implemented properly – might save them all from the fall from power.
    ‘I haven’t sent any news yet. I’m waiting for His Majesty’s instructions.’
    ‘Good. I’ve got an idea. It’s rather far-fetched but I think it may just work,’ said the advisor. All his plans had worked well in the past, and there was no reason why this one would not work too.
    ‘I’m listening. What is it?’
    ‘We can’t change the fact that the princess is dead – but, then again, we can’t afford to send a pile of bones to Marmicus. It would simply reveal this kingdom’s negligence. So if we can’t bring her back to life, then let us at least pretend we tried our best to protect her from the Assyrians. We can say that our soldiers got there and fought to protect her, and that many of our men died alongside her, but it was too late – they had already killed her. That way, we can’t be blamed for her unfortunate death, but at the same time we can preserve our valuable allegiance with Marmicus.’
    He was right: the idea was far-fetched. But it did have potential.
    ‘We don’t have her body, unless you’re suggesting we go back and dig it up,’ said the commander. He had trained himself to always think a step ahead; it was important for military personnel to assess the strengths and weaknesses of any suggestions.
    ‘We can always find a woman who looks like her. The king has plenty of women at his disposal; it’s only a matter of choosing which one,’ said another advisor. It would mean killing an innocent woman just to facilitate their deceit. The commander looked at the king, who said nothing; the idea was cunning, however deceitful. Nevertheless, it might be their only option. The choice was entirely the king’s.
    ‘What if Marmicus sees the body and realises it’s not her?’ said King Nelaaz. He was beginning to feel uncomfortable with the suggestion.
    ‘He won’t. Not if the body lies beneath an inch of gold. We’ll make sure she’s ready to be buried; no one will see the body below all that gold. It’ll distract the eyes,’ said the advisor.
    ‘By the gods, I forbid it. It’s plain wrong! I can’t lie to Marmicus, not like this anyway, especially when he’s saved me from my own people and given me his allegiance.’ For once in his life the king wanted to do something right; but in times of war it was never wise to develop a conscience.
    ‘This is our only option, unless you wish to greet Marmicus with a pile of tattered flesh and dried bones,’ insisted the commander, becoming convinced of the plan’s viability.
    ‘Don’t be silly, you fool! Of course I don’t, but I don’t want to deceive him like this. I’m not giving you permission to do this. I won’t do it.’
    ‘If you don’t agree to this, Your Majesty, you’ll have no throne to sit on, and no palace to shield you from your own people who, in case you have forgotten, are out to kill you,’ said the advisor, leaning towards him almost devilishly, desperately wanting to convince him to accept the idea. There was nothing to lose from trying it. ‘If it helps your conscience, then think of this act as a sign of friendship offered to a man who has just lost his wife. If Marmicus knew the true extent of his loss, he’d have no strength to shield anyone from harm, including his own people. We must try to cushion the blow. It’s in his interests – after all, sometimes we must commit a small wrong for the greater good.’
    ‘Perhaps you’re right,’ said King Nelaaz. ‘Death is death. We can’t resurrect the princess, or undo the curse which has befallen her kingdom. She’s now just a pile of bones, while I’m still a king made of flesh and in need of some comfort. I suppose all we can do is let the Gallant Warrior mourn her death in the most appropriate fashion.’ He was trying his best to convince himself of the idea; rationalising their plan was already