[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
how well known his penchant for exotic vases.
Should he tell Ahsha about this secret alliance with
Egypt s major enemy? No, he quickly intuited. It was better
if the right hand never knew what the left hand was doing.
In the sultry shade of a sycamore, Queen Mother Tuya
was chronicling her late husband s reign, commemorating
the essential dates in a blessed era of peace and prosperity
for Egypt. Seti s every thought, every deed was fresh in her
mind. She had been attuned to his hopes and fears. She trea-
sured the memory of the intimate moments when their
souls had communed.
In this slight, frail woman, Seti lived on.
Watching Ramses come near her, Tuya saw the stamp of
his father s authority. The new pharaoh was all of a piece,
without the inconsistencies that plague most men. Like an
obelisk, he seemed able to withstand the strongest tempest.
His youth and strength added to the impression of invul-
nerability.
Ramses kissed his mother s hands and sat down on her
right.
Ramses: The eternal temple 133
You write all day long.
Even all night. Would you forgive me if I left anything
out? You look worried, son.
Tuya could always read his mood in a minute.
The high priest of Amon is challenging my authority.
Seti saw it coming. Sooner or later, the clash was
inevitable.
What would my father have done?
You know perfectly well. There s only one possible
course of action.
Nefertari said as much.
She s the Queen of Egypt, and like every queen,
guardian of the law of Ma at.
You don t preach moderation?
When the possibility of secession exists, there s no
room for compromise.
Dismissing a high priest of Amon will have serious
repercussions.
Only one of you can rule the country. Which will it
be?
twenty-three
he donkeys followed their leader through the gates of
Tthe temple enclosure. The old one s hooves knew every
step from the weaving workshops to the temple storerooms.
He held the others to a steady, dignified pace.
It was a full shipment. Bakhen had been sent to help
another priest with the receiving. Each length of linen, to be
used for vestments, was supposed to be tagged with a
number and entered in a ledger with a note on its origin and
quality.
Good stuff, said Bakhen s co-worker, a foxy-faced little
man. Been here at Karnak long?
A few months.
You like the life here?
It s what I expected.
What do you do on the outside?
Nothing. I m a full-fledged priest now.
I serve two months at a time, then go back to town.
Work as a ferry inspector, but not as hard as here! The pace
is killing.
Then why do you do it?
Ramses: The eternal temple 135
That s for me to know. Listen, I ll pick out the first-
quality material. You log the rest.
When each donkey was unloaded, warehouse workers
carefully laid the linen on a cloth-covered sledge. Bakhen
inspected it and made entries on a wooden writing board,
including the date of delivery. It seemed to him that his
fellow receiver was not as busy as he claimed. The greater
part of his time was spent glancing furtively in all direc-
tions.
I m thirsty, he said. Care for a drink?
Gladly.
The foxy little lay priest left the storeroom. He d set his
log on the back of the lead donkey, where Bakhen could see
it. There were only scribbled approximations of hiero-
glyphs, nothing to do with shipments of first-quality linen.
When the lay priest returned, his water skin full of cool
liquid, Bakhen was already back at work.
Here, take some . . . making us work in this heat is
inhuman, anyhow.
I don t hear the donkeys complaining.
Very funny.
Almost quitting time for you, isn t it?
I wish! The cloth still has to be routed for shelving.
What do we do with our receiving logs?
Give me yours, and I ll turn it in with mine at the main
office.
Is that far from here?
It s a hike, but not too bad.
You re senior to me. Why not let me do the walking?
Oh, no. They wouldn t know you at the office.
Then I ought to introduce myself.
You don t know the routine, and they don t like wasting
time.
136 Christian Jacq
I ll have to learn eventually.
Thanks for the offer, but all the same, you d better leave
it to me.
The man seemed disconcerted. He moved away so that
Bakhen couldn t see what he was recording in his log.
Writer s cramp? Bakhen inquired.
No, I m fine.
Just one thing: do you even know how to write?
The lay priest turned indignantly toward Bakhen. Why
do you ask?
I saw your log book there, on the donkey s back.
Nosy, aren t you?
Who wouldn t be, with how little work you ve been
doing? If you want, I ll fill out the log for you. Otherwise,
you re going to have trouble at the office.
Don t play dumb with me, Bakhen.
Is there something I m missing?
Oh, all right. You want me to cut you in. I can under-
stand that, but still, your first day on the job?
What s the deal?
The foxy little man came closer and spoke in a confi-
dential tone. The temple is rich, the richest in Egypt.
Priests are paid nothing. We have to manage. Karnak will
never miss a length of linen here and there. Go for the
quality, find regular customers, and you make out very well.
See?
Is the office staff in on it, too?
Just one scribe and two warehouse foremen. Since the
linen we take is never logged, there s no way to trace it. A
pretty good setup, eh?
Aren t you afraid of getting caught?
It s foolproof.
But if someone talked . . .
Ramses: The eternal temple 137
Even if they did, no one would get excited, believe me.
Now tell me how much of a cut you want.
The same as the scribe, or whoever gets the best deal.
You ve got nerve! I think we can work together. In a few
years we ll both have a nice little nest egg and we won t have to
work our tails off. How about finishing up this shipment?
Bakhen nodded and went back to work.
Nefertari laid her head on Ramses shoulder as the sun-
rise flooded their bedroom with light. Both of them vener-
ated this daily miracle, this renewed victory over darkness.
Celebrating the morning rites, they associated themselves
with the solar bark s journey through the realms of dark-
ness, the gods nightly battle with the monster intent on
destroying all of creation.
I need your magic, Nefertari. This won t be an easy day.
So your mother agrees with me about Karnak?
Sometimes I have the feeling you re in league with her.
We do see things the same way, she admitted with a
smile.
The two of you have convinced me. Today I plan to dis-
miss the high priest of Amon.
Why did you wait this long?
I needed proof of mismanagement.
And you got it?
I put Bakhen on the case. My old combat instructor
turned priest. He uncovered a ring of warehouse workers
skimming linen and reselling it. That means the high priest
is either corrupt himself or no longer knows what goes on
at Karnak. In either case, he needs to be replaced.
138 Christian Jacq
Is Bakhen trustworthy?
He s young, but devoted to Karnak. What he uncovered [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl wyciskamy.pev.pl
how well known his penchant for exotic vases.
Should he tell Ahsha about this secret alliance with
Egypt s major enemy? No, he quickly intuited. It was better
if the right hand never knew what the left hand was doing.
In the sultry shade of a sycamore, Queen Mother Tuya
was chronicling her late husband s reign, commemorating
the essential dates in a blessed era of peace and prosperity
for Egypt. Seti s every thought, every deed was fresh in her
mind. She had been attuned to his hopes and fears. She trea-
sured the memory of the intimate moments when their
souls had communed.
In this slight, frail woman, Seti lived on.
Watching Ramses come near her, Tuya saw the stamp of
his father s authority. The new pharaoh was all of a piece,
without the inconsistencies that plague most men. Like an
obelisk, he seemed able to withstand the strongest tempest.
His youth and strength added to the impression of invul-
nerability.
Ramses kissed his mother s hands and sat down on her
right.
Ramses: The eternal temple 133
You write all day long.
Even all night. Would you forgive me if I left anything
out? You look worried, son.
Tuya could always read his mood in a minute.
The high priest of Amon is challenging my authority.
Seti saw it coming. Sooner or later, the clash was
inevitable.
What would my father have done?
You know perfectly well. There s only one possible
course of action.
Nefertari said as much.
She s the Queen of Egypt, and like every queen,
guardian of the law of Ma at.
You don t preach moderation?
When the possibility of secession exists, there s no
room for compromise.
Dismissing a high priest of Amon will have serious
repercussions.
Only one of you can rule the country. Which will it
be?
twenty-three
he donkeys followed their leader through the gates of
Tthe temple enclosure. The old one s hooves knew every
step from the weaving workshops to the temple storerooms.
He held the others to a steady, dignified pace.
It was a full shipment. Bakhen had been sent to help
another priest with the receiving. Each length of linen, to be
used for vestments, was supposed to be tagged with a
number and entered in a ledger with a note on its origin and
quality.
Good stuff, said Bakhen s co-worker, a foxy-faced little
man. Been here at Karnak long?
A few months.
You like the life here?
It s what I expected.
What do you do on the outside?
Nothing. I m a full-fledged priest now.
I serve two months at a time, then go back to town.
Work as a ferry inspector, but not as hard as here! The pace
is killing.
Then why do you do it?
Ramses: The eternal temple 135
That s for me to know. Listen, I ll pick out the first-
quality material. You log the rest.
When each donkey was unloaded, warehouse workers
carefully laid the linen on a cloth-covered sledge. Bakhen
inspected it and made entries on a wooden writing board,
including the date of delivery. It seemed to him that his
fellow receiver was not as busy as he claimed. The greater
part of his time was spent glancing furtively in all direc-
tions.
I m thirsty, he said. Care for a drink?
Gladly.
The foxy little lay priest left the storeroom. He d set his
log on the back of the lead donkey, where Bakhen could see
it. There were only scribbled approximations of hiero-
glyphs, nothing to do with shipments of first-quality linen.
When the lay priest returned, his water skin full of cool
liquid, Bakhen was already back at work.
Here, take some . . . making us work in this heat is
inhuman, anyhow.
I don t hear the donkeys complaining.
Very funny.
Almost quitting time for you, isn t it?
I wish! The cloth still has to be routed for shelving.
What do we do with our receiving logs?
Give me yours, and I ll turn it in with mine at the main
office.
Is that far from here?
It s a hike, but not too bad.
You re senior to me. Why not let me do the walking?
Oh, no. They wouldn t know you at the office.
Then I ought to introduce myself.
You don t know the routine, and they don t like wasting
time.
136 Christian Jacq
I ll have to learn eventually.
Thanks for the offer, but all the same, you d better leave
it to me.
The man seemed disconcerted. He moved away so that
Bakhen couldn t see what he was recording in his log.
Writer s cramp? Bakhen inquired.
No, I m fine.
Just one thing: do you even know how to write?
The lay priest turned indignantly toward Bakhen. Why
do you ask?
I saw your log book there, on the donkey s back.
Nosy, aren t you?
Who wouldn t be, with how little work you ve been
doing? If you want, I ll fill out the log for you. Otherwise,
you re going to have trouble at the office.
Don t play dumb with me, Bakhen.
Is there something I m missing?
Oh, all right. You want me to cut you in. I can under-
stand that, but still, your first day on the job?
What s the deal?
The foxy little man came closer and spoke in a confi-
dential tone. The temple is rich, the richest in Egypt.
Priests are paid nothing. We have to manage. Karnak will
never miss a length of linen here and there. Go for the
quality, find regular customers, and you make out very well.
See?
Is the office staff in on it, too?
Just one scribe and two warehouse foremen. Since the
linen we take is never logged, there s no way to trace it. A
pretty good setup, eh?
Aren t you afraid of getting caught?
It s foolproof.
But if someone talked . . .
Ramses: The eternal temple 137
Even if they did, no one would get excited, believe me.
Now tell me how much of a cut you want.
The same as the scribe, or whoever gets the best deal.
You ve got nerve! I think we can work together. In a few
years we ll both have a nice little nest egg and we won t have to
work our tails off. How about finishing up this shipment?
Bakhen nodded and went back to work.
Nefertari laid her head on Ramses shoulder as the sun-
rise flooded their bedroom with light. Both of them vener-
ated this daily miracle, this renewed victory over darkness.
Celebrating the morning rites, they associated themselves
with the solar bark s journey through the realms of dark-
ness, the gods nightly battle with the monster intent on
destroying all of creation.
I need your magic, Nefertari. This won t be an easy day.
So your mother agrees with me about Karnak?
Sometimes I have the feeling you re in league with her.
We do see things the same way, she admitted with a
smile.
The two of you have convinced me. Today I plan to dis-
miss the high priest of Amon.
Why did you wait this long?
I needed proof of mismanagement.
And you got it?
I put Bakhen on the case. My old combat instructor
turned priest. He uncovered a ring of warehouse workers
skimming linen and reselling it. That means the high priest
is either corrupt himself or no longer knows what goes on
at Karnak. In either case, he needs to be replaced.
138 Christian Jacq
Is Bakhen trustworthy?
He s young, but devoted to Karnak. What he uncovered [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]