Ramses Volume II: The Eternal Temple by Christian Jacq

Author:Christian Jacq [Jacq, Christian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Historical, Fantasy, Adventure
ISBN: 9780446960595
Publisher: iPublish.com
Published: 1995-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Ramses: The eternal temple

181

“I’m not sure you do, Serramanna. Follow your instincts,

but take care. I won’t have you roughing people up. Official order or no, I consider myself responsible for your actions.”

“No one will get hurt.”

“Give me your word.”

“Do you trust a pirate?”

“A man of courage knows how to keep his word.”

“When I say ‘hurt,’ I mean . . .”

“Give it, Serramanna.”

“All right, Your Majesty. You have my word.”

A spotless palace was one of Romay’s obsessions. As

Ramses’ new chief steward, he was responsible for the king’s personal comfort. The sweepers, floor scrubbers, and other cleaning personnel were busy as bees under the direction of a finicky scribe who hoped to bolster his position by

pleasing Romay. He checked every job and was quick to

threaten salary cuts for substandard performance.

Night was falling when the scribe left the sparkling-clean palace. Tired and thirsty, he made haste toward a tavern

where they served his favorite beer. As he passed through a narrow street packed with laden donkeys, he was grabbed by the collar of his tunic and dragged backward into a darkened shop. The door slammed shut behind him. Frightened

out of his wits, the palace official did not even cry out.

Two enormous hands gripped his neck.

“You’re going to talk, scum!”

“Let go! You’re choking me.”

Serramanna loosened his grip.

“You follow the boss man’s orders, eh?”

182

Christian Jacq

“Boss man?”

“Romay, the chief steward?”

“You can’t fault my work.”

“Romay hates Ramses, doesn’t he?”

“I don’t know. No, no, I don’t think so. And I’m the

king’s faithful servant!”

“Romay is a scorpion fancier, I hear.”

“Scorpions? He’s scared to death of them.”

“You’re lying.”

“No, it’s the truth, I swear!”

“You’ve seen him handle scorpions.”

“Never!”

The Sard began to have doubts. Usually, this method

yielded excellent results. The man did appear to be telling the truth.

“Are you looking for someone who handles scorpions?”

the scribe ventured.

“You know of someone?”

“A friend of the king’s called Setau . . . he lives for his snakes and scorpions. They say he even speaks their language and they obey him.”

“Where can I find this Setau?”

“He has a laboratory in the desert outside Memphis. His

wife is a Nubian sorceress, as strange as he is.”

Serramanna released his captive, who rubbed his neck

and breathed deeply.

“Can I go now?”

The Sard shooed him away. “Wait,” he said suddenly. “I

didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, not at all.”

“Go, but never tell anyone we spoke, unless you’d like to test my grip again.”

The scribe bolted into the darkness. Serramanna walked

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