Ramses, Volume I

by Christian Jacq

  Ahmeni was losing sleep.

  Every day, the rumor grew stronger that the search party led by Seti and Ramses had perished in the desert. At first, the young scribe shrugged it off as foolishness. Then he checked with the royal dispatch service and learned the upsetting truth.

  There was indeed no news of Pharaoh and the crown prince, and no one was doing anything about it!

  Only one person, he knew, could break the deadlock and dispatch an emergency force into the eastern desert. Ahmeni went to call on the Great Royal Wife and was admitted by an unusually lovely young woman. Wary as he was of the opposite sex, of feminine wiles, the young scribe took note of Nefertari’s perfect face, deep blue-green gaze, soft voice.

  “I wish to see Her Majesty.”

  “She has much to do in Pharaoh’s absence. May I ask the reason for your visit?”

  “Excuse me, but have we met?”

  “My name is Nefertari. The queen has named me mistress of her household. I promise to report to her accurately anything you may tell me.”

  For a woman, she sounded sincere. Ahmeni grudgingly yielded to her charm.

  “As the crown prince’s private secretary and sandal-bearer, I believe that an elite search party should be sent to the desert immediately.”

  Nefertari smiled. “Have no fear. The queen is informed about her husband and son.”

  “Informed . . . but that’s not enough!”

  “Pharaoh is in no danger.”

  “Then why have no messages reached the court?”

  “I’m afraid I can say no more, but please have faith.”

  “I beg you to present my request to the queen.”

  “She is just as concerned as you are, believe me; if they were in any danger, she would act.”

  Ahmeni hated to travel, and trotting along on the back of a spirited donkey compounded the torture, but he had to get to Setau. The snake charmer lived on the edge of the desert, far out of Memphis. The dirt track along an irrigation ditch seemed endless. Fortunately, a few of the local people had heard of Setau and his Nubian bride and pointed the way to his house.

  Safe at his destination, Ahmeni felt as if his back was broken. He was sneezing his head off from the dust and rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

  Lotus was at work outside the house, mashing some horrid-smelling mixture that almost made Ahmeni swoon. She stopped and asked him inside, but he backed away from the doorstep, where a hooded cobra loomed.

  “A harmless old thing,” Lotus assured him. When she stroked the snake’s head, it swayed appreciatively from side to side. Ahmeni seized the opportunity to slip into the house.

  The main room was full of vials of all sizes and strangely shaped objects used to process venom. Crouching, Setau was decanting a thick, reddish liquid.

  “Are you lost, Ahmeni? Seeing you outside your office amounts to a miracle.”

  “More like a disaster.”

  “So what magic enticed you out of your den?”

  “A plot against Ramses.”

  “Your imagination is playing tricks on you.”

  “He’s lost in the eastern desert, tracking some prospectors with Seti.”

  “Ramses, lost?”

  “No word for more than ten days.”

  “That’s just a missed relay or two.”

  “No, I checked myself with the dispatch service. And that’s not all.”

  “What else, now?”

  “Queen Tuya is at the bottom of it.”

  Setau nearly upended his venom flask. He looked hard at the young scribe.

  “Have you lost your mind?”

  “I asked for an audience and she refused to see me.”

  “Nothing unusual in that.”

  “I found out that the queen thinks everything is quite normal, has no fears for their safety and no intention of sending out a search party.”

  “Is that hearsay?”

  “No, direct from Nefertari, the new mistress of her household.”

  Setau looked thoroughly sorry. “You think Tuya’s trying to get rid of her husband and seize power? It’s hardly likely.”

  “Facts are facts.”

  “Seti and Tuya are such a close couple.”

  “Then why won’t she send help? Consider the evidence: she sent him toward certain death to clear her path to the throne.”

  “Even if you’re right, what can we do about it now?”

  “Go find Ramses?”

  “Did you bring a search party?”

  “A party of two: you and me.”

  Setau got to his feet. “You plan to hike through the desert? You really have lost your mind this time, friend.”

  “Will you go with me?”

  “Of course not.”

  “You give up on Ramses?”

  “If your hypothesis is correct, he’s already dead. Why should we risk our lives?”

  “I have a donkey and water. Just give me something to help with snakes.”

  “You wouldn’t know how to use it.”

  “Thanks for everything.”

  “Ahmeni, this is madness. Sheer madness!”

  “I took a vow to serve Ramses. I have to keep my word.”

  The scribe climbed back on his donkey and rode east. Before long he had to stop and lie down on his back, hugging his knees to ease the pain, while the donkey munched tufts of dried grass in the shade of a persea tree.

  Half-asleep, he considered finding a stick. Would he need one?

  “Had enough now?”

  Ahmeni opened his eyes and sat up.

  He saw Setau leading a team of five donkeys, laden with water and all the equipment required for a trek through the desert.

  FORTY-TWO

  Shaanar had several important luncheon guests. As they were exclaiming over the excellent grilled beef with spicy sauce, Iset the Fair burst in.

  “How can you think of food when the country is in peril?”

  Shaanar’s companions were shocked. The prince rose, excused himself, and led the young woman out of the dining room.

  “What is the meaning of this outburst?”

  “Let go of my arm!”

  “You’re going to ruin your reputation. You know that my luncheon guests are influential people, don’t you?”

  “I don’t care who they are!”

  “Why are you acting like this?”

  “Because no one seems upset that Seti and Ramses have gone missing in the eastern desert.”

  “That’s not what the queen thinks.”

  Iset the Fair was disarmed. “The queen?”

  “My mother is convinced that Pharaoh is in no danger.”

  “But no one has heard from them!”

  “That’s hardly news.”

  “You should go look for them!”

  “And contradict my mother? Would that be wise?”

  “Is she relying on another source of information?”

  “Her intuition.”

  The young woman gazed at him, wide-eyed. “Tell me you’re joking.”

  “It’s the truth, my dear, nothing but the truth.”

  “What on earth is she thinking?”

  “When Pharaoh is gone, the queen governs and we obey.”

  Shaanar felt quite satisfied with himself. With Iset the Fair so distraught, he knew he could count on her to spread the worst rumors about the queen. The council would have to request an explanation, her judgment would be questioned, and he would be called on to handle affairs of state.

  Ramses marched at the head of the expedition returning from the eastern desert. They had built a chapel and suitable housing for the gold miners. The water source Seti had divined provided a well that would last for years. And on this return trip, the donkeys were laden with sacks of the finest gold.

  Not one man had died. Pharaoh and the crown prince were proud to be bringing back their full contingent. A few of the weaker men lagged behind, looking forward to a long leave at the end of their march. One quarryman, suffering from a scorpion
bite, was carried on a litter. His high fever and chest pains alarmed the medical officer.

  At the top of a hill, Ramses spotted a speck of green.

  The first green fields at the edge of the desert! The regent turned around and shouted the good news, which was greeted with cheers.

  A sharp-eyed patrolman pointed toward an outcropping.

  “Caravan heading our way. Small one, though.”

  Ramses looked hard. At first he saw only rocks, then slowly made out a few donkeys and two riders.

  “Suspicious,” said the patrolman. “Could be thieves hiding out in the desert. Let’s bring them in.” A posse was dispatched, quickly bringing two prisoners back to the crown prince.

  Setau sputtered in anger. Ahmeni was close to fainting. “I knew I’d find you,” he murmured in Ramses’ ear, while Setau was taken to consult on the case of scorpion bite.

  Shaanar was the first to congratulate his father and brother. The story of their exploit would be passed down through history, and he personally offered to put it in writing. Seti, however, assigned the task to Ramses. With Ahmeni’s advice on style and vocabulary, he set to work. The soldiers gave them a wonderful account of the miracle of Pharaoh’s divining rod and their narrow escape from death.

  However, the prevailing atmosphere of good cheer seemed lost on the young scribe. Ramses speculated that the desert trek had put a serious strain on Ahmeni’s health.

  “What’s eating you?” Ramses asked finally.

  The scribe was prepared. Painful as the truth was, he knew he must make a clean breast of it.

  “I thought your mother was plotting a coup.”

  Ramses roared.

  “You’ve got to stop working so hard, my friend. I’m going to make you get outside and exercise more.”

  “Well, she wouldn’t send out a search patrol . . .”

  “Don’t you know about the invisible connection between Pharaoh and the Great Royal Wife?”

  “I do now, believe me.”

  “Another thing I’ve been wondering about: did you finally scare off Iset? I thought she would have come running to see me by now.”

  Ahmeni hung his head. “She . . . we were both guilty.”

  “Of what?”

  “She was suspicious of your mother, too, but she decided to go public with her criticism.”

  “Send for her.”

  “But we were misled by appearances, she—”

  “Send for Iset.”

  Iset the Fair, who hadn’t even done her face, threw herself at Ramses’ feet.

  “Forgive me, I beg of you!”

  Her hair undone, she shakily grasped the prince regent’s ankles.

  “I was sick with worry . . .”

  “Is that any reason to suspect my mother of wrongdoing and, even worse, to go around spreading slander?”

  “Forgive me.” Iset wept.

  Ramses lifted her up. Still trembling, she cried on his shoulder.

  “Who did you talk to?” he asked harshly.

  “I can’t remember. Anyone who’d listen. I was beside myself, I wanted them to go out and search for you.”

  “Unfounded accusations could land you in court, Iset. If the verdict is high treason, you’ll be sent to prison or exiled.”

  Iset the Fair broke out in sobs, clinging desperately to Ramses.

  “I’ll plead your cause,” he told her. “I can see you’re truly sorry.”

  Pharaoh lost no time in taking the helm again. Tuya had steered a steady course in his absence; high-ranking officials trusted her to focus on matters at hand, not the power struggles that wasted so much of most noblemen’s time. When Seti was forced to leave Memphis, he could rest assured that his wife would never betray him and would govern with wisdom and lucidity.

  Of course, he could have involved Ramses more directly in government matters, but the king preferred to proceed by osmosis, transmitting his experience mystically, rather than sending his son unarmed into the political fray.

  Ramses was a person of strength and scope. He had all the qualities necessary to rule and overcome obstacles of any nature, but how would he adapt to a pharaoh’s overwhelming solitude? To prepare him, Seti had made the crown prince travel, both physically and mentally. They still had a long way to go.

  Tuya introduced Nefertari to the king. Awed, the young woman said not a word, but bowed low. Seti studied her closely for a few seconds and urged her to carry out her duties with the utmost care. Directing the Great Royal Wife’s household demanded a firm hand and sealed lips. Still unable to look up at the Pharaoh, Nefertari withdrew.

  “You were rather hard on her,” observed Tuya.

  “She’s very young.”

  “Don’t you think she’s capable?”

  “She has exceptional gifts.”

  “I found her in the temple, where she wanted to stay forever.”

  “I can understand that. The palace must be a terrible ordeal for her.”

  “True.”

  “Then why did you bring her here?”

  “I don’t quite know. As soon as I saw Nefertari, I sensed how special she was. The religious life clearly suited her, but my instincts tell me she has another mission in life. If it turns out I’m wrong, she can go her own way.”

  Ramses lunched with his mother, bringing Watcher and introducing the Nubian lion Fighter, now grown to alarming proportions. As if aware they were honored to be in her presence, the two pets were on their best behavior. After a meal prepared by the queen’s personal chef, they curled up head to toe for the ineffable pleasure of a nap in the shade of a palm tree.

  “This has been pleasant,” Tuya conceded, “but I’m sure you’ve come for a reason. What is it?”

  “Iset the Fair.”

  “Is your engagement off ?”

  “She’s done something very wrong.”

  “How bad can it be?”

  “She slandered the Queen of Egypt.”

  “How so?”

  “She thought you arranged the king’s disappearance and were to seize the throne.”

  To Ramses’ amazement, his mother seemed amused. “Almost every last person at court would have agreed with her. I was criticized for not sending out a search party, when all along I knew you and Seti were perfectly safe. For all our temples and rites, few people understand that psychic communication is possible.”

  “At court . . . will you be bringing charges?”

  “Iset’s reaction was nothing unusual.”

  “Doesn’t it bother you that everyone was so ungrateful, so unfair to you?”

  “It’s the way of the world. We must only take care not to run the country that way.”

  A young woman laid some documents on a low table to the queen’s left, then slipped silently from the room. Her brief appearance was like sunshine through leafy branches.

  “Who was that?”

  “Nefertari, the new mistress of my household.”

  “I’ve met her before. How did she end up in such an important position?”

  “Circumstances. She was called to be a priestess in the temple of Hathor. I picked her out at the induction ceremony.”

  “You took her away from the temple?”

  “A harem education is excellent preparation for all kinds of work.”

  “But she’s so young. It’s so much responsibility.”

  “You’re only seventeen yourself. In the king’s eyes, and mine, what a person is and does are all that matter.”

  Nefertari’s otherworldly beauty had stirred Ramses; her brief appearance was stamped in his mind like a miracle.

  “Tell Iset not to worry,” Tuya continued. “There will be no repercussions. But she must learn not to get so carried away, or at least to hold her tongue if she can’t help it.”

  FORTY-THREE

  In ceremonial dress, Ramses paced the landing stage of Memphis’s main harbor, known as “Safe Journey.” His entourage included the mayor, the head of the harbor patrol, the secretary of state
, and an impressive security force. The fleet of ten Greek boats was due to arrive any time now.

  At first, the coastal patrol had thought it was an attack. Part of the Egyptian fighting fleet had been dispatched in answer. But the foreigners had displayed peaceful intentions and expressed a wish to sail on to Memphis and meet the Pharaoh.

  Under close escort, they came up the Nile and reached the capital late on a windy morning. Hundreds of curious onlookers crowded the banks. This was not the time of year when shipful after shipful of foreign dignitaries came to pay tribute. However, these imposing vessels were obviously from some rich land. Had they also come with costly offerings for Seti?

  Patience was not Ramses’ strong point, and he was afraid his diplomatic skills were close to nonexistent. Welcoming this foreign delegation was a chore. Ahmeni had written out some sort of official greetings, so dull and boring he could not even recall the first sentence. It made him miss Ahsha—just the man for the job.

  The Greek ships had suffered heavy damage and would need major repairs before heading out to sea again. Some even had burnt timbers; they must have run into pirates on their way across the Mediterranean.

  The lead ship steered skillfully into harbor, although a part of its rigging was missing. A gangway was thrown aboard and silence fell. What would these strangers be like?

  Out stepped a man of medium height, broad-shouldered, blond, with a rugged face, who looked about fifty. He wore a breastplate and leg armor, but held his brass helmet against his chest, as a sign of peace.

  Behind him stood a tall and beautiful woman with bare white arms, a purple cloak and tiara attesting to her noble lineage.

  They descended the gangway and halted in front of Ramses.

  “I am Ramses, Prince Regent of Egypt. In the name of the Pharaoh, I bid you welcome.”

  “I am Menelaus, son of Atreus, King of Sparta, and here is my queen, Helen; we have come from the ill-fated city of Troy, which we have conquered and destroyed after ten years of hard fighting. Many of my friends have died, and the taste of victory is bitter; as you can see, my remaining ships are in poor repair and my soldiers and sailors are exhausted. Will Egypt permit us to stop and recuperate before returning home?”