From then on, the story goes much as I told you. I stayed with Iannis and did the drug-running thing with him and all that, in order to give myself time to recover from my ordeal and plot and think and scheme. I knew what the god wanted from me. I just had to figure out how to bring it about in the most effective fashion.
Freegypt was the obvious place to set up shop. There, apathy towards the Pantheon was a way of life, and apathy can be turned into antipathy without much effort, like sharpening a blunt pencil. Plus, with all the militias and infighting in Upper Freegypt, they had the ready-made raw material for an army. I formulated a plan. Learn Arabic. Then create an image for myself. The mask was obligatory, to disguise the god's mark. I'd tried growing a beard but it didn't really work. Didn't obscure enough of the scarring. Also, if I wore a mask that covered my face completely it would make me a blank canvas, something people could project their own dreams and ideals onto. I'd be both less of a man with it, and more. And the name? That just popped into my head one morning. Al Ashraqa. He who brightens. The Lightbringer. Why not? It summed up what I was pretending to do, bring illumination to a benighted world. Kind of arrogant, I appreciate, but then I saw the Lightbringer as quite an arrogant character. People like arrogance in a leader, anyway. They're drawn to it. They want a leader to have certainty and guts and ambition.
And the Lightbringer had those — has those — in abundance.
''Pretending,'' said David. ''Pretending to bring illumination to the world.''
''Yes.''
''You're a fraud. This whole 'crusade' of yours — nothing but a sham.''
''Harsh words. Not how I'd put it.''
''How would you put it?''
''This is just a job, Dave,'' said Steven. ''Something I have to do. I'm discharging an obligation. I made a deal, and this is my side of it.''
''A deal with a god.''
''Yes.''
''Who you can't even bring yourself to name.''
Steven looked away. ''You can't understand what it was like. He treated me like… like…''
''A slave?''
''No, worse than that. A dog.''
''Or how about like his property?'' David offered, recalling the image that had sprung to mind when he'd caught that glimpse of the edge of the scar back at the Temple of Hatshepsut — a cattle brand.
''Ha,'' said Steven, an empty laugh. ''Yeah, that'll do.''
''You should say his name, though. If he's your owner, you should be prepared to admit to it.''
''Why? It's obvious who he is, isn't it?''
''Still. For my sake. Say it out loud. Say who you submitted to.''
Steven said the name, softly, not even quite a whisper.
''Again,'' David said. ''Properly.''
''What for? Look. Look at this.'' Steven gesticulated at the scar. ''What does it look like?''
It looked like the head of some kind of animal, a creature with no direct analogue among the fauna of earth. It had a long, pointed snout, pricked ears, and horns like an antelope's. The name it had been given was the Typhonic Beast, after a malevolent fire-god of the Ancient Greeks.
''I know what it is,'' said David. ''Whose emblem is it? Come on. Loud and clear. Say his name.''
Steven sighed, then loudly, clearly, uttered the word.
''Set.''
34. Beast
''There,'' said Steven rancorously. ''Happy now? It's Set's emblem. Set is my master. I have been doing the bidding of the Lord of the Desert. Set rules me. How many other ways can I phrase it? Set saved my life and I've been working for him ever since. You got it out of me. Congrats.'' He stood up. ''Now, if it's all right with you, I'm going to find a spare mask, put it on and go out there and be the Lightbringer for a little while longer.''
''No.'' David thrust him back down into the chair. ''We're not done yet.''
''But the people out there,'' Steven protested, ''my people…''
''You don't care that much what happens to them.''
''They need to see that I'm there, looking out for them.''
''A few more minutes, that's all.''
Steven glared, but did not try to get up again. ''All right. Have your big moment. Lecture me on what I've done wrong.''
''I said a few minutes. That lecture would take several hours.''
''Oh, ha ha.''
''Steven, don't you see what you've done? The enormity of it? You've led three-thousand-odd people to their deaths. You've abused their trust and sacrificed them to save your own skin. You've deceived them with a lie which you don't even believe in yourself.''
''You — you can be such a high-and-mighty prig, Dave,'' his brother snapped. ''Don't you dare judge me. You weren't on that island. It wasn't your life hanging in the balance. If you'd been there, suffering like I was, you'd have done the same. You'd have leapt at the chance Set was offering you. Don't tell me you wouldn't.''
''I wouldn't.''
''Come off it.''
''No, really, I wouldn't. I'd have thought through the consequences and said no.''
''And died? Lingeringly? Agonisingly? Yeah, right, fuck off.''
''You forget. Not so long ago, I got lost in the desert. I went through pretty much what you did. I know exactly how you felt, and if Set or any other god had come to me with a bargain like that, even when I was at my lowest point, I know what my answer would have been.''
''You can't say that for certain.''
''I think I can.''
''Well then, doesn't that make you the nobler, better one of us?'' Steven spat out. ''You're the upstanding older brother, never knowingly unheroic, and I'm the weakling, the runt, the disappointment, Westwynter Minor in every way. Glad we've established that — or rather, re-established.''
''What gets me is that you gave in so easily. You didn't put up a fight. You didn't hesitate. Set barely had to ask and you were his.''
''Isn't that how it is? A perfect illustration of the relationship between the Pantheon and humankind. They screw us, and we bend over and take it.''
''You feel no shame?''
''I left shame behind somewhere in the middle of the Aegean.''
''Yes, I reckon you did and all.'' David scratched his chin. ''Tell me, this gift Set gave you…''
''Not a gift.''
''The prize you won, then. You used it on all the Freegyptians?''
''Yep. In my speeches, or on a one-to-one basis. All I had to do was sound convincing, and they'd be convinced. You could call it a heightened form of my natural charm. Sometimes it was almost too easy. They wanted what I was promising them, wanted it so much. First of all peace in Upper Freegypt, then the opportunity to spread their national philosophy — their belief in unbelief — to the rest of the world. In a way, what they were looking for was a prophet, a secular evangelist. And they got one.''
''No, they got a false messiah.''
''More harsh words.''
''Just telling it like it is, Steven.''
''Look, Dave, you can accuse me of misleading people, toying with their hopes, throwing away their lives, whatever, but as far as I'm concerned I've done nothing wrong. I've been acting on a god's commands. You do that. Everyone does that! Slag me off if it makes you feel better, but you're not going to make me feel bad.''
''Fine,'' said David. ''Then I won't try. There is one thing I'd like to know, however.''
''What?'' said Steven with an exasperated huff.
''Did you use it on me at any point? Your power?''