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It will take more than your clan alone, of course. We ll
have to find allies.
That will be difficult, very difficult. It will mean
meeting and talking, moon after moon.
Patience was the virtue Shaanar lacked most. He checked
his anger and swore he d persevere, despite the inherent
slowness of such negotiations.
Are you prepared to help me? he asked the chieftain.
I need to stay here, in my village. To start the talks, we
should go to the next village over. It s too far away.
The Cretan mercenary handed Shaanar a small bar of
silver.
With this, he told the tribal chief, you can feed your
clan for several months. Those who help me, I pay.
The Nubian s eyes bulged. You re giving me that to start
the talks?
And more, if you get results.
It will still take a long, long time.
Let s get started at sunrise.
Back in Pi-Ramses, Iset the Fair often thought of her
trysts with Ramses in the reed hut, before he met Nefertari.
At one time she d hoped to marry the man she was still in
love with, but who could rival the sublime woman who had
deservedly become the Great Royal Wife?
At times, when frustration got the better of her, Iset the
Ramses: The lady of abu simbel 259
Fair went without makeup, dressed carelessly, forgot her
perfumed oils . . . But her affection for Kha and Merenptah,
the two sons Ramses had given her, as well as Meritamon,
the king s daughter with Nefertari, always roused her from
her depression as she focused on the children s future.
Merenptah was a sturdy, good-looking child, already show-
ing signs of intelligence. Meritamon was a pretty and thought-
ful girl, a gifted musician. Kha was a budding scholar. These
three children were her hope; they would be her future.
Her chamberlain arrived bearing a necklace of four
strands of amethyst and carnelian, silver earrings, a gold-
embroidered multicolor dress. Behind him was Dolora,
Ramses sister.
You look tired, Iset.
It s not worth mentioning. But tell me, where are you
taking these lovely things?
I was hoping you d accept them. A little gift.
I m touched, Dolora. How can I thank you?
The tall brunette, soothing and protective, decided to go
on the offensive.
Doesn t your existence weigh on you, my dear?
No, of course not, since I m lucky enough to be raising
Ramses children.
Why be content to stay in the background?
I love the king, I love his children. The gods have given
me a charmed existence.
The gods! They re only an illusion, Iset.
What are you saying?
There is only one God, the one Akhenaton worshiped,
the God of Moses and the Hebrews. It is to Him that we
must turn.
That s fine for you, Dolora, but leave me out of it.
260 Christian Jacq
Ramses sister realized that she would never make a con-
vert of Iset the Fair. She was too conventional. But there
was one other tactic that might prove successful.
I don t think it s fair that you ve been relegated to the
role of secondary wife.
I disagree, Dolora. Nefertari is prettier and smarter
than I am; there s no match for her.
That s not true. Besides, she has one terrible flaw.
Oh?
Nefertari doesn t love Ramses.
How dare you imply . . .
I m not implying. I m stating facts. You know that I
always keep up with court gossip. That s how I know that
Nefertari is a fake and a schemer. What was she before she
met Ramses? A provincial music student who would have
ended up in some second-rate temple! Then Ramses laid
eyes on her and overnight she changed from a shy young girl
into a power-hungry woman.
Pardon me, Dolora, but I find it hard to believe.
Do you know what s behind this trip to Nubia?
Nefertari has demanded a huge temple as a monument to
her glory! Ramses gave in and has started a costly project
that will take years to complete. Nefertari s true ambition is
finally surfacing: she wants to take the king s place and rule
the country. She has to be stopped, no matter how.
You re not suggesting . . .
No matter how. Only one person can save Ramses: you,
Iset.
The young woman was shaken. Of course she mis-
trusted Dolora, but there might be something to her alle-
gations. Still, Nefertari seemed so sincere. Power could be
a corrupting influence. Suddenly her image of a loving Ne-
fertari, worshiping Ramses, grew cracks. For a true schemer,
Ramses: The lady of abu simbel 261
what could be better than seducing the Lord of the Two
Lands?
What do you advise me to do, Dolora?
Ramses has been fooled. You re the one he should have
married. You re the mother of his eldest son, Kha, whom
the court already accepts as the likely successor. If you love
the king, Iset, if you love Egypt and want the best for it,
there s only one thing to do: get rid of Nefertari.
Iset the Fair shut her eyes. Dolora, that s impossible!
I ll help you.
Murder is an abominable crime that destroys the spirit,
the soul, the name . . . an attempt on the queen s life would
mean eternal damnation.
Who d know it was you? When you decide to strike,
you ll have to move stealthily and leave no trace.
Is this the will of your god, Dolora?
Nefertari is a perverse woman who sullies Ramses
heart and leads him to commit grave errors. You and I must
unite to combat her influence. That s how we ll prove our
loyalty to the king.
I need to think it over.
What could be more natural? I have great esteem for
you, Iset, and I know you ll make the right decision. No
matter what you decide, you have my undying affection.
Iset the Fair smiled so wanly that before leaving Dolora
kissed her on both cheeks.
Ramses lesser wife could hardly breathe. She stumbled
to the window looking out on one of the palace gardens
and soaked up the strong sunlight without relief.
A rival! For the first time, Iset the Fair truly considered
Nefertari as a rival. Their unspoken agreement was shat-
tered and the latent conflict burst forth with years of re-
pressed violence behind it. Iset was the mother of Ramses
262 Christian Jacq
two sons, his first love, the woman who ought to have
reigned at his side. Dolora had revealed a truth she had been
trying to ignore.
With Nefertari out of the way, Ramses would finally
realize that she was only a passing fancy. The spell would be
broken, and he would return to Iset the Fair, the love of his
youth who had never stopped loving him.
forty-three
hile harboring a deep mistrust of the Hebrews, the
Wsinister Ofir had cynically concluded that the brick-
makers quarter was the ideal hideout. Even so, he moved
every so often as an extra security measure. Skillfully
planted misinformation had led Serramanna to believe that
the sorcerer had fled the country. He had backed off on his
investigation. Only the usual patrols roamed the neighbor-
hood, keeping things quiet at night.
Yet the sorcerer was far from happy. For months now, he
had been at a stalemate. Year Fifteen of Ramses reign, the
thirty-seventh year of his life, found Egypt healthier than
ever, to Ofir s chagrin.
The news from the Hittite empire was disquieting. Uri-
Ramses: The lady of abu simbel 263
Teshoop still favored all-out war with Egypt, but launched
no offensive. Furthermore, seasoned Egyptian troops occu-
pied the buffer zone formed by southern Syria and Canaan,
ready to counter the most massive attack. Why was the
impetuous Uri-Teshoop so reluctant? The sketchy messages
relayed by the Bedouins offered no explanation.
Down in Nubia, Shaanar seemed unable to incite the
tribal leaders to action. So far there had only been endless
talks.
At court, Dolora was still making overtures to Iset the
Fair, but the king s lesser wife seemed unable to commit.
Meba was virtually useless, failing to crack Ahsha s coded
messages. Yes, he d been able to provide detailed informa-
tion about the magic charms protecting Prince Kha, but the
boy led a studious and blameless existence in which Ofir
could find no opening.
After his long journey, during which he founded a
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