Pharaoh by Jackie French Read Free Book Online

the next harvest.’
    Narmer could hear the smile in Nitho’s voice as she translated the Trader’s next words. ‘Your concern does you credit, o wise and noble King. But my master feels it only right that such a great city as yours should have only the best, especially for the marriage of your most worthy son. Perhaps you could trade something that would leave the wheat and barley for the people?’
    The King’s hands caressed an ivory pot. ‘What?’
    ‘Gold,’ Nitho translated.
    Narmer started. How did Nitho know that they had a gold mine? More eavesdropping, he supposed.
    The gold mine was out in the hills, beyond the River valley. Its location was a secret, known only to the King and his family, and a few trusted guards and servants who were well paid for their discretion.
    Gold came from the sun god, Ra. Only the King and his family could wear gold amulets or bracelets, which reflected the sun’s divine rays.
    ‘For all of these treasures,’ said Nitho calmly, ‘my master asks for only enough gold to fill four cups.’
    The King’s face clouded. ‘I am afraid we don’t have…’ he began.
    The Trader’s gaze never left the King’s face. He said something else, the words soft and full of promise.
    ‘But my master says you have been kind to us poor strangers from the desert,’ Nitho went on, her tones as silky as the Trader’s. ‘And as a gesture of friendship to our kind hosts, we will reduce the price. Three cups of gold and provisions to see us across the desert, and all these splendours are yours.’
    The King’s face cleared. Narmer knew as well as he did that the kingdom only had three cups of gold. It took many moons to dig the gold-bearing rock and carry it secretly to the River where the gold could be washed free.
    ‘In that case…’ began the King.
    Narmer leant forward. ‘A quarter of a cup of gold.’
    The others stared at him. His sudden interruption had surprised even himself. Yet it was as though he’d been watching a new game and suddenly understood its rules. And this was a game he could win—for Thinis.
    For a moment Narmer thought the King was going to rebuke him, but his father said nothing.
    The Trader kept his face impassive as Nitho translated. He glanced at Narmer and nodded to himself. He smiled faintly, then said something more.
    ‘Surely you do not think wealth like this,’ Nitho brushed her hands over the chest of myrrh, the panther skins, the cups, ‘is worth a mere quarter cup of gold?’
    Narmer’s smile matched the Trader’s. ‘Of course not. Wealth like this is worth all the gold in the desert.’
    He waited for Nitho to repeat his words then added, ‘We are a poor town, even though we have given our best to our honoured guests. If we had three cups of gold we would give them to you. But we don’t.’
    Nitho’s eyes widened above her scarf. She said something urgently to the Trader.
    Aha, thought Narmer. You knew exactly how much gold we have, o Oracle who listens to the servants. I bet a cleft in the rocks isn’t the only place where you’re used to hiding to find out information.
    ‘Our apologies,’ said Nitho sweetly.
    I’ve got you rattled, thought Narmer. She was starting to use her own voice now, thought he doubted anyone else had noticed.
    ‘We understand your sad situation,’ she went on. ‘An eighth part of the goods, then, for a quarter of a cup of gold.’
    Narmer shook his head. Neither his father nor his brother had any intention of interrupting him now, he realised. He wondered if Hawk even understood what an eighth part was. Hawk had no interest in numbers. They waited, intent on his words.
    ‘A quarter cup for it all.’ Narmer stood and lifted the box of myrrh, exaggerating its heaviness. ‘Such a big box,’ he said admiringly, as the Trader smiled, ‘It would be heavy to carry all the way across the desert.’
    ‘But…’ began Nitho.
    Narmer pressed on. ‘That’s where you’re headed, isn’t it? Back the way you came?