Prince in Exile Read Online Free PDF Page A

the grain.” She sprinkled more wheat grains on the curved surface and rolled a round stone back and forth over them.
    “You’re a slave, aren’t you,” said Ramose. “Are you from Kush?”
    “Yes. Not that it’s any business of yours.”
    “I don’t think you should talk to me like that,” said Ramose.
    “Why not?”
    Ramose didn’t know what to say to this insolent girl.
    “Where I come from you’d be beaten for such rudeness.”
    “And who’s going to beat me?” laughed Karoya. “Certainly not a puny little apprentice scribe, like you. You’d have to catch me first.”
    “Where are the rest of the servants?” asked Ramose changing the subject.
    “There aren’t any more servants, just Teti and me.”
    “But who will dress me? Who will help me bathe?”
    “Who will dress you?” Karoya stopped grinding and looked up at him in amazement. “Only babies can’t dress themselves.”
    Ramose looked at the shocked expression on the girl’s face and realised he’d made another mistake.
    “I was just joking,” he said, and went back into the house. Ramose didn’t like making mistakes. He didn’t like having to pretend he was an ordinary person. There was nothing about his new life that he liked.
    Ramose had been looking forward to washing off the dust and sweat from his walk. Water was precious out there in the desert. He was only allowed to have two jars of water to bathe with. It was such a small amount of water. He was also given a tiny jar of animal fat mixed with limestone to cleanse his skin. He knocked over one of the jars, spilling most of the water meant for rinsing, leaving his skin covered with the chalky fat. So much for bathing, thought Ramose. I probably smell worse now than I did before.

    That night Ramose lay on his back. Then he lay on his left side. Next he tried his right side. It didn’t matter which way he lay he just couldn’t get comfortable. How could he? How could anybody be expected to sleep lying out on the roof on a rickety old bed with a base of woven reeds? He’d only been given one thin blanket. Nights in the desert were cold. Even wrapped in his cloak he was freezing.
    Ramose was still awake when the sun rose. His body, used to soft beds, was sore from head to toe. He was itchy as well. When he inspected his legs and arms, he saw that they were covered in bites. Whether they were from the mosquitoes that had buzzed around his head all night or from the fleas he had found in the blanket, he wasn’t sure.
    He put on his kilt. He fumbled with the ties. When he had finished it hung unevenly. He wrapped it the other way and it hung a little better, though he was sure he wouldn’t be able to undo the knot he’d tied.
    Breakfast was the same gritty bread and a few overripe figs.
    “I’d prefer some sweet plum cake,” he said to Teti.
    She blinked at him as if he’d asked for a slice of the moon.
    Scribe Paneb and his wife came in for their breakfast. They grabbed at the food with both hands, filling their mouths. Ianna talked and ate at the same time. Ramose suddenly lost his appetite. He went back up to the roof, where he found the slave girl just lifting the lid of his chest.
    “Take your hands off my belongings!” shouted Ramose.
    “I was just going to tidy them for you,” said the girl.
    “Your job is to grind grain and make bread, not to touch my personal things. You were looking for something to steal, I know. My father told me that people from Kush were all thieves and barbarians!”
    “I wasn’t stealing anything,” retorted Karoya. “Why would I want to steal your spare kilt and your undergarments?”
    Ramose marched down the stairs. The scribe was still eating his breakfast.
    “I found the slave girl up on the roof trying to steal my possessions,” Ramose said to Paneb. “I want her punished.”
    “I’ve told her before about being inquisitive,” said the scribe belching softly.
    “Inquisitive!” shouted Ramose. “She’s a thief. She