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mother?
All that is in the past. Today we re two Hittites exiled in
Egypt.
Are you forgetting who I am?
A bird in a gilded cage, the way I see it.
I m Ramses wife and the queen of this country!
Uri-Teshoop sat down on the end of the bed.
Stop dreaming, little girl.
I ll call the guards.
Go right ahead.
Uri-Teshoop and Mathor locked eyes. The young
woman rose and poured herself a glass of cool water.
You re nothing but a monster and a brute. Why should
I listen to someone with so much blood on his hands?
Because we belong to the same tribe, and Egypt will
always be the enemy of our people!
You re raving. The peace treaty is engraved in stone.
222 Christian Jacq
And you re dreaming if you think Ramses sees you as
anything but a pawn in his game. Soon he ll be shutting you
up in a harem.
You re wrong!
Has he given you even one shred of power?
Mathor said nothing.
In Ramses eyes, you don t exist as a person. You re part
of the price he had to pay for peace. Once he feels sure that
your father has called for demobilization, he ll invade Hatti.
Ramses is cruel and underhanded. He set a clever trap and
Hattusili fell for it. And your own father sacrificed you!
Enjoy the high life while it lasts, Mathor. Your youth will be
gone much more quickly than you d ever imagine.
The queen turned her back to Uri-Teshoop.
Are you quite finished?
Think about what I ve just told you, and you ll see how
much truth there is in it. If you want to see me again, find
a way to send me a message without alerting Serramanna.
What on earth would I want to say to you?
You love Hatti as much as I do. And you can t accept
either defeat or humiliation.
Mathor waited a long time before turning around again.
A light breeze lifted the linen curtain. Uri-Teshoop had
disappeared. Had it all been a nightmare, or was it a call to
awaken?
The six men inside the huge vat beneath the vine arbor
were singing at the top of their lungs and enthusiastically
stomping fermented grapes in time to the music. The wine
should be excellent; they were already half drunk on the
fumes. Somewhat unsteadily, they clung to the overhanging
Ramses: UNDER THE WESTERN ACACIA 223
vines. Outdoing them all was their leader, Serramanna.
Someone is asking for you, a farmhand shouted.
Keep going, Serramanna ordered his men. Don t slow
down!
The man asking for him was an officer in the desert
patrol. Weathered, square-jawed, he had his bow, arrows,
and short sword at the ready.
I ve come to report, sir, he told Serramanna. Our men
have been combing the Libyan desert for months now,
looking for Malfi and his rebel band.
Have you finally located them?
Unfortunately, no. The desert is immense, and we only
control the portion closest to Egypt. Venturing farther west
would be risky. The Bedouins spy on us and warn Malfi off
whenever we get close. He s harder to catch than a shadow.
It was not what Serramanna had wanted to hear. The
desert patrol knew what it was doing; of that much he was
certain. Their fruitless search proved just how tough an
opponent Malfi was proving to be.
Do we know for sure that Malfi has federated several
tribes?
I m not convinced of that, replied the officer. It may
be just another rumor.
Do you know if he carries an iron dagger?
I ve never heard it mentioned.
Keep your men on alert. If anything at all turns up,
inform the palace.
As you wish. But what have we to fear from the
Libyans?
We re sure that Malfi is up to some kind of mischief.
Plus, he s a murder suspect.
224 Christian Jacq
Ahmeni never discarded a single document. Over the
years, his Pi-Ramses office had turned into an archive of
papyrus scrolls and wooden tablets. Three adjoining rooms
held inactive files. His staff had repeatedly urged him to
eliminate some of the excess, but Ahmeni wanted to keep
the maximum amount of information on hand, since
requests to other government departments seemed to be
filled at a snail s pace.
Ahmeni worked fast. From his point of view, setting
aside a problem only tended to make it worse. Most of the
time it made more sense to rely on his own solutions than
to call in a host of experts who tended to disappear once
the going got rough.
He had just eaten a huge dinner of boiled meat that, as
usual, would add no weight to his slender frame. He was
working by lamplight when Serramanna entered his office.
Still reading?
Yes, somebody has to take care of business.
You re going to ruin your health, Ahmeni.
I did that long ago.
May I sit down?
As long as you don t move anything.
The Sard remained standing.
Nothing new on Malfi, he said regretfully. He s still
on the run in the desert.
What about Uri-Teshoop?
Oh, leading the high life. If I didn t know him like a
hunter knows his prey, I d swear he was a solid citizen with
nothing in mind but keeping his rich wife happy.
It s a possibility. They say that marriage can work won-
ders.
They do, do they?
The Sard s arch tone intrigued Ahmeni.
Ramses: UNDER THE WESTERN ACACIA 225
What are you getting at?
You re an excellent scribe, but time flies, you know, and
you re not a young man anymore.
Ahmeni put down his brush and crossed his arms.
I ve met a woman . . . charming, but very shy, continued
Serramanna. Obviously not right for me, but you might
like her . . .
You re trying to marry me off ?
I need variety, but you d make a faithful husband.
Ahmeni saw red. My life is this office and public
affairs! Can you picture a woman in here? She d sort and
clean till I couldn t find a single thing!
I only thought
Don t think about me. Just concentrate on finding
Ahsha s murderer.
Thirty-eight
amses Eternal Temple was a large complex on the West
R Bank at Thebes. According to the Pharaoh s wishes,
the pylons seemed to touch the sky, trees shaded freshwater
ponds, the doors were of gilded bronze, the floors of silver,
and statues vibrating with the life force of the ka stood in
the great courtyards. Surrounding the temple precinct were
226 Christian Jacq
a library and storerooms. Within it were chapels to Ramses
father, Seti, his mother, Tuya, and his beloved wife Nefer-
tari.
The Lord of the Two Lands returned frequently to this
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