Sary searched on for hours, forgetting his lunch. Exhausted, grimy, he straggled back to the palace as night fell. Soon, he would have to report his pupil’s disappearance and prove he had played no part in it. And how could he face his wife?
He was too glum to return the greetings of his fellow teachers leaving the royal academy. In the morning, he would question Ramses’ closest friends. If this proved fruitless, he would have to acknowledge the awful truth.
What had he done to bring the wrath of the gods down on his head? His career would be unjustly shattered, he would be banished from court, his wife would renounce him, he would end up as a washerman by the Nile. Horrified at the prospect of his own decline, Sary found his usual spot and sank into the classic crossed-leg position of a scribe.
Ramses was supposed to be seated across from him, sometimes attentive, sometimes in the clouds, but always ready with an unexpected answer. At the age of eight, he could already draw beautiful hieroglyphs and calculate a pyramid’s slope to the nearest degree—but only because he enjoyed it.
The royal guardian closed his eyes, picturing the happier moments of his rise through the ranks.
“Feeling all right, Sary?”
That voice—already so deep and commanding!
“Is it really you?”
“Take a look, if it won’t disturb your nap.”
Sary opened his eyes and saw Ramses, who, though disheveled, looked exuberant.
“We both need a wash, teacher. Where did you get so dirty?”
“In the stables, among other unsavory places.”
“Searching for me?”
Dumbfounded, Sary rose and inspected Ramses.
“What have you done to your hair?”
“My father cut the side-lock off himself.”
“That can’t be! The correct ritual—”
“Do you doubt my word?”
“Forgive me.”
“Sit down, guardian, and listen.”
The prince’s tone was no longer that of a child. Sary did as he was told.
“My father tested me: the wild bull.”
“What in the world—?”
“I didn’t beat it, but I faced it. And I think . . . I believe that my father has chosen me to rule.”
“No, my prince. Your brother has already been named successor.”
“But has Pharaoh tested him?”
“Your father simply wanted to see you react to danger. He knows your reputation.”
“Why would he waste his time on that? No, I’m sure it was a summons.”
“Don’t get carried away, Ramses. This is madness!”
“Why?”
“The court is full of influential people with no use for you.”
“What have I done to them?”
“It’s nothing you’ve done; it’s who you are.”
“Are you telling me I should blend in with the crowd?”
“Listen to reason.”
“A bull makes a stronger argument.”
“Ramses, you have no idea how vicious power politics can be. It will take more than a bullfight to come out on top.”
“Then you can help me.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You know how the court works. Tell me who my friends are, and my enemies; be my secret adviser.”
“Don’t ask too much of me. I’m only your guardian.”
“Are you forgetting that my childhood is officially over? Now you become my tutor, or we go our separate ways.”
“You’re asking me to take uncalculated risks when you’re not even first in line for the throne. Your older brother has been groomed for it. Go against him, Ramses, and he’ll destroy you.”
THREE
The big night was finally here.
With only a new moon, it was deliciously dark out. Ramses had dared his classmates from the royal academy to sneak out and meet him in town. There they could discuss what really mattered, the question foremost in their minds, until now unspoken.
Ramses lowered himself out of his second-story window and let go. The loose soil of the garden below softened the impact, and the young man crept along the wall. The palace guards posed no problem; some were sleeping, others played dice. If he happened on one who was actually alert, Ramses planned either to talk his way around him or knock him out.
In his excitement, he hadn’t reckoned with one conscientious sentinel: a golden-haired dog, medium-sized, sturdy and muscular, with long ears and a curlicue tail. He made no sound, but stood resolutely in Ramses’ path.
Instinctively, the prince made eye contact. The animal sat, his tail wagging rhythmically. Ramses went up and petted him; they were instant friends. The red leather collar was inscribed “Watcher.”
“Want to come, boy?”
With a jerk of his short black muzzle, Watcher led his new master toward the gate of the royal academy.
Late as it was, people still strolled the streets of Memphis, the country’s ancient capital. The southern city of Thebes might be wealthy, but Memphis remained the home of the great universities, the place where royal offspring and others earmarked for high government posts received a thorough and rigorous education. Admission to the Kap, “the closed, protected, nourishing place,” was a highly sought prize, but Ramses, like others who had spent their whole life within its walls, longed only to escape.
A short-sleeved tunic of ordinary weave helped him blend into the crowd. It was an easy walk to the famous tavern near the medical school, where healers in training liked to unwind after long hours of study. With Watcher still trailing him, the prince went inside. Academy rules stated that students must never set foot here. But Ramses was no longer a child and was finally out of his gilded cage.
The main room of the tavern was whitewashed, with mats and stools where loud groups of patrons crowded to enjoy strong beer, wine, and palm liquor. The owner freely displayed amphorae from the Delta, the oasis regions, or Greece, vaunting their contents. Ramses found a quiet spot and watched the door.
“What will it be?” asked a server.
“Nothing right now.”
“Strangers pay in advance.”
The prince handed over a carnelian bracelet.
“Will this cover it?”
“I suppose. Wine or beer?”
“Your best beer.”
“How many?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“I’ll bring the jar. When you’re ready, you’ll get the cups.”
Ramses realized he had no idea what things cost; he was probably being robbed. It was high time for him to leave school. He had been too sheltered from the outside world.
With Watcher curled at his feet, he looked for new arrivals. Would any of his classmates make it? He weighed his bets, eliminating the overcautious and the career-minded, until his list was whittled down to three names. He knew the danger would not deter them.
He smiled when Setau crossed the threshold. Muscular and virile, with dark hair and skin, Setau was the son of a sailor and his Nubian wife. His unflagging energy, as well as his gifts for chemistry and plant lore, had singled him out in his village school; he had done just as well at the Kap.
Setau, not a big talker, sat down silently next to Ramses. They had barely exchanged greetings when they were joined by Ahmeni.
Ahmeni, slight and a bit sickly, was not cut out for sports or heavy lifting, but he was a tireless worker, sleeping only three or four hours a night. He was at the top of his class in hieroglyphs; he already knew more about literature than his teachers. The son of a plasterer, he was his family’s pride and joy.
“I bribed a guard with my dinner,” he announced proudly.
He was on Ramses’ short list. He had counted on Setau to use force, if necessary, and Ahmeni to rely on his wits.
The next arrival took him by surprise. He never would have expected pampered young Ahsha to take such a risk. The only son of wealthy nobles, he felt the Kap was just an obligatory rung on the ladder
to a high government post. Slim and elegant, he had a long face with a thin mustache and often wore a haughty expression, yet won people over with his smooth voice and sparkling, intelligent eyes.
He sat across from the trio of friends.
“Surprised, Ramses?
“I have to admit I am.”
“Slumming with you sounded rather fun. Life has been dull lately.”
“It won’t be much fun if we’re caught.”
“That adds a bit of spice to the evening. Is the gang all here?”
“Not yet.”
“Your best friend wouldn’t let you down, would he, old fellow?”
“He’ll be here.”
“Of course.”
Ahsha called for the beer, but Ramses, his throat tight with anxiety and disappointment, could not touch a drop. Could he have been so badly mistaken?
“Here he is!” cried Ahmeni.
Tall, broad-shouldered, with long, thick hair and a beard outlining his jaw, Moses looked much older than his fifteen years. The descendant of several generations of Hebrew laborers, as strong as Ramses physically, Moses had such remarkable intellectual gifts that he was singled out for the Kap as a very young child. The two had initially clashed, then had come to terms and joined forces against their teachers.
“A guard tried to stop me. He was too old to hit, so I had to reason with him.”
They drank a congratulatory round, enjoying the inimitable flavor of forbidden fruit.
At length Ramses spoke. “Let’s tackle the only important question,” he said bluntly. “How do you find true power?”
“Reading and writing hieroglyphs,” Ahmeni said instantly. “The language of the gods, the tool our sages used to hand down their precepts. ‘Do as your ancestors did,’ it is written, ‘for they knew life before you. Knowledge is power, and only writing immortalizes.’”
“A writer’s drivel,” objected Setau.
Ahmeni colored. “Are you denying that a scribe holds the key to power? Good conduct, manners, fairness, trust, honesty, self-control, freedom from envy—those are the things I want. And enough silence to surround the writing. Writing comes first.”
“I disagree,” said Ahsha. “Diplomacy is the route to power. That’s why I plan to go abroad, study the languages of ally and foe alike, understand how international trade works, and learn the true intentions of other leaders, so that they can be manipulated.”
“I can tell you were born and raised in the city,” moaned Setau. “You’ve completely lost contact with nature. The city is our greatest danger.”
“Then where are you going to find power?” asked Ahsha pointedly.
“There’s only one way to find a combination of life and death, beauty and horror, poison and antidote: follow the snake.”
“You must be joking.”
“Where are snakes found? In the desert, in the fields, in swamps, by the Nile and the canals, on threshing floors, in shepherds’ huts, cattle pens, even the cool dark recesses of houses! Snakes are everywhere, and in them lies the secret of creation. I plan to devote my life to learning it.”
No one attempted to argue. Setau had obviously made up his mind.
“What about you, Moses?”
The young giant hesitated. “I envy you, my friends, because I have no answer. Strange thoughts trouble me, my mind drifts, but my destiny remains unclear. I think I’m going to be offered an important post in a great harem,* and I plan to take it, until something more exciting comes along.”
All four young men directed questioning looks at Ramses.
“Only one true power exists,” the prince declared. “That of Pharaoh.”
FOUR
Just what we thought you’d say,” complained Ahsha.
“My father tested me against the wild bull,” Ramses revealed. “Why would he do that unless he wants me to be Pharaoh?”
His four classmates were stunned. Ahsha was the first to regain his composure.
“Didn’t Seti already name your brother to succeed him?”
“Then why wasn’t he put to the test?”
Ahmeni was radiant. “That’s wonderful, Ramses. I never expected to be friends with a future pharaoh!”
“Don’t get carried away,” Moses advised. “Maybe Seti is still deciding.”
“Are you with me or against me?” Ramses asked.
“With you, for life!” answered Ahmeni.
Moses nodded his agreement.
“There are two sides to everything,” Ahsha opined. “If I see you gaining the upper hand, I’ll gradually lose confidence in your brother. But if it’s the other way around, I won’t go with the loser.”
Ahmeni clenched his fists. “You really deserve a—”
“Perhaps I’m simply the most truthful of us all,” the future diplomat ventured.
“That would amaze me,” said Setau. “I think my outlook is more realistic.”
“Pray tell.”
“I’m not interested in pretty speeches. Only actions count. A future king must be able to deal with reptiles. The night of the next full moon, when the snakes come out to hunt, I’ll take Ramses out with me. Then we’ll see how he measures up.”
“Don’t go!” begged Ahmeni.
“You’re on,” said Ramses.
The scandal shook the Kap to its ancient foundations. Never had the top of the graduating class so flagrantly broken school rules. Sary was given the unwelcome task of calling in the culprits and reading them their penalties. A few days before summer recess, the task seemed even more daunting in that all five young men had just been given government appointments in recognition of their gifts and academic accomplishments. For them, the gates of the Kap should be opening on a promising career.
He found Ramses playing with the dog, who had quickly adapted to sharing his master’s diet. Sary soon had enough of watching the dog lunge and chase after a rag ball, but the prince insisted on working with his pet, to make up for the former owner’s supposed neglect.
Exhausted, panting, his tongue lolling, Watcher lapped water from an earthenware bowl.
“You’re in trouble, Ramses,” Sary began.
“What for?”
“That sordid escapade at the tavern.”
“Come on, Sary; we weren’t even drunk.”
“No, but you were stupid, especially considering the appointments you all would have had.”
Ramses grabbed his guardian by the shoulders.
“Do you have news? Tell me!”
“Your punishment . . .”
“That can wait. What about Moses?”
“Assistant director of operations at Merur, the great harem in Faiyum.* Quite a responsibility for one so young.”
“He’ll shake things up. It will be good for them. And Ahmeni?”
“A palace scribe.”
“Perfect! Tell me about Setau?”
“Certified as a healer and snake hunter. He’ll harvest venom to serve as an antidote. But—”
“Ahsha? You forgot Ahsha.”
“Advanced courses in Libyan, Syrian, and Hittite. Then he’ll serve as an interpreter in Byblos. But I’ve been trying to tell you that all of your appointments have been put on hold.”
“But how?”
“By vote of the dean and the faculty, including me. Your behavior was quite unacceptable.”
Ramses thought for a moment. If he and his friends protested and the situation soured, news would be sure to reach the vizier, then Seti. Pharaoh would be furious!
“I seem to remember, Sary, that the Kap’s teaching is always to seek the just course.”
“Correct.”
“Then only the guilty party should be punished—and that’s me.”
“But—”
“I organized the whole thing, I set the time and the place, and I talked my friends into meeting me. If it had been anyone else, they’d never have tried it.”
“Probably, but—”
“Give them the good news about their appointme
nts and let me serve their punishment. And now that everything is settled, let me get back to this poor dog.”
Sary thanked the gods; Ramses’ plan gave him a graceful way out of a delicate situation. The prince, no favorite with the faculty, would stay on in house suspension, receiving extra tutoring in mathematics and literature during the New Year festivities, which marked the midsummer return of the Nile’s annual flooding. When Pharaoh presided at the festivities, Shaanar would appear at his side. Ramses’ absence would attest to his insignificance.
Before serving his sentence, the prince was allowed to say goodbye to his classmates.
Ahmeni was warm and encouraging. With his job nearby at the palace, he would think of Ramses each day and find some means of communication. As soon as they let Ramses out, Ahmeni promised, their real future would begin.
Moses embraced him. Leaving Memphis would be a difficult adjustment. He was plagued by dreams, but he could wait to discuss them until Ramses was free.
Ahsha was cold and distant. He thanked the prince for doing him such a favor and promised to pay it back if ever he had a chance, which was doubtful, since their paths were unlikely to cross in the future.
Setau reminded Ramses about their date and told him a promise was a promise. While Ramses was under house arrest, Setau would be scouting locales for their snake hunt. He was clearly delighted to be leaving the city and looking forward to daily contact with his true source of power.
To Sary’s surprise, Ramses bore his confinement stoically. While others his age dipped in all the pleasures of the season, the prince studied theorems and classical authors, breaking only to walk his dog in the campus gardens. Their tutorials ranged over the most serious subjects. Ramses showed astonishing powers of concentration, reinforced by an exceptional memory. In the space of a few weeks, the boy had become a man. Soon his former guardian would have little left to teach.
Ramses treated his suspension like a hard-fought wrestling match where the opponent was none other than himself. Since his encounter with the wild bull, he had been struggling with another monster: a self-important adolescent, overconfident, impatient, and disorderly. It was no less difficult a fight.
Ramses, Volume I Page 2