The Chronicles of Amon book 2 The Sea of Marmara

  Chapter 12.

  Khufu’s great pyramid rose ever higher above the desert floor. Now, at just over 350 feet, it was well over two thirds complete.

  Pharaoh and his high priest stood side by side, holding onto the thin railing of the chariot as it bounced roughly along. Khufu cracked his whip over the horses’ heads, urging them forward up the steep earthen ramp which covered most of one side of the pyramid.

  When the chariot slowed and stopped on the narrowing plateau, servants steadied it as the two men dismounted.

  Khufu walked over to the edge farthest away from where another block was being settled into place. The laborers as well as their overseers smiled in his direction, never stopping their work. The Pharaoh acknowledged them with a smile.

  “The view gets better every time I come up here. Already it surpasses my father’s, and there is much yet to be added.”

  The high priest stayed two paces behind the pharaoh, as was customary to show respect. Yunu, hands clasped in front of him, leaned forward slightly as he responded.

  “My king. The people love it when you walk among them. They love you all the more when you stand here for all to see.”

  “Yes. How often have I told you, high priest? Your insight and wisdom have been a boon to my reign. The old ways; the ways of my fathers are no more. My people love me, not because I put more food in their bellies. They love me because I have made them a part of me.”

  “It is so, my king. They sweat and toil enthusiastically not because you command them, but because you persuade them. They see the sweat on your brow, the dust on you sandals, the callouses in your palms and they feel you are one of them. That is why this magnificent structure has grown so rapidly.”

  Khufu turned toward his confidante, now speaking more quietly.

  “This morning I walked in on my mother as she was conversing with the chief priest. I only heard a few words before she noticed me and abruptly stopped talking. She looked quickly down toward the floor and then began speaking again, as though nothing had happened.”

  “What was it she said?”

  “Her words were, ‘Tell him we will accept no more delays.’ When I asked her about it, she brushed it off as nothing important, muttering something about a problem with the kitchens.”

  “Who else was she talking to? Was there anyone else in the room?”

  The Pharaoh walked back toward the chariot, waving at the workers and smiling.

  “No one except Shehat. What concerns would he have with the kitchens?” Moving closer to Yunu he whispered: “There is something not right about these two lately. My mother has always kept Shehat close, but of late they are thick as thieves.”

  Yunu too was aware of this issue. He had been watching them closely himself for several months. Cautiously he began:

  “Khufu, my friend. Perhaps now is the time that I should confide more about myself to you. Can we perhaps take a ride together? Away from prying eyes and ears.”

  “So! My suspicions have been right all along!” said Khufu forcefully.

  Yunu placed a hand on Khufu’s arm, looking over the pharaoh’s shoulder. Standing close to the chariot, holding the horses’ reins, one of the servants looked self-consciously away, then quickly began grooming the nearest horse’s mane.

  “My Pharaoh. . . .”

  “Yes. I noticed.” Then, more loudly: “Perhaps we should go to the temple to meditate for a while.” More for the servants to hear than for the high priest.

  “Excellent, my king.” then to the servant: “The Pharaoh wishes to commune with Amon Ra. We will go there immediately.”