Read Online Moses by Howard Fast - Free Book Online

many punitive expeditions that ranged the borders and flung back the constant barbarian inroads. He would have many other rights, but that most important privilege of all did not come with the simple chronological acquisition of manhood: that was the right to wear upon his finger the sacred cartouche inscribed with one of the godly attributes of royalty that a prince might own—the whu , which was the divine right of command. Only Ramses himself could grant this right to a prince, and only by naming him in the line to the throne.
    Yet, notwithstanding, the glory of manhood was a great deal, and he came to his mother straight from the war-court, burdened proudly with all the panoply of war-dagger and sword and oxhide buckler, laminated bow and quiver of arrows, Kushite stave and javelin—such a weight that he could hardly walk, but trying to indicate that it was merely a feather, nothing at all—and what prince of Egypt was not capable of carrying an armoury on his back?
    With Enekhas-Amon, the years dealt ever less kindly, and more and more she had become a recluse in her chambers. For the past year she had attended none of the fêtes or spectacles or formal courts, avoiding almost all of the few friends who remained to her. Aside from three women slaves of long service and Moses, she saw only Seti, her physician, and Amon-Teph, who had fallen into the habit of calling upon her every week or so. Her headaches came more and more frequently, each attack making her weaker and lessening her powers of recovery; and in the process of languishing and self-pity, the last remnants of her beauty disappeared, leaving her haggard and thin.
    But today she was all pride, as close to happiness as she had been in a long time; and rather than a long-limbed, sunburned boy, bowed down with a ridiculous weight of weapons, she saw a man of passion and strength and vengeance, who with his mighty right arm would beat any and all opposition.
    Moses recognized the rare glow on her features, and as she stood up, he laid down the arms and embraced her. Already he was a full head taller than she, and as he held her and felt her head against his bare breast and the wetness of her tears of pride, he was deeply touched and by no means without guilt for the days when he had wasted the endless hours of play with never a care for her. He told himself that now it would be different, that now he had a degree of understanding that was no part of childhood.
    She apologized for her foolish tears, and wondered what he could think of her behaving this way?
    â€œI could think only the best of you, my mother.”
    She wanted him to stand back, away from her, so that she could look at him again; and she feasted with her eyes as if she were hungrily consuming food—food enough to make her whole and well again. “What a fine, strong man he is!” she thought to herself; and indeed he was handsome enough for all her pride, his legs lean and strong, his back straight and wide, and his shoulders the powerful shoulders of the man he was becoming.
    â€œYou are all that I ever dreamed, my son, and only one thing is missing.”
    â€œAnd what is that?” he smiled.
    â€œThe divine cartouche on your finger,” she whispered.
    â€œMother, my mother,” he said, feeling older and wiser and more free from passion than she could ever be, “who am I to think about the throne of Egypt?”
    â€œWho? The only one. Who else can stand beside you as the Prince of Egypt?”
    Moses shook his head. “My mother, the God Ramses has a hundred sons and more—and how many daughters? As for me, I am not even sure I am his son.”
    â€œWhy do you say that?” she snapped suddenly. “Have I ever told you that? Who has?”
    â€œGossip.”
    â€œAnd you believe gossip—common gossip?”
    â€œHow could I live in this house and not believe gossip?”
    Enekhas-Amon sighed and lay down upon her couch again.