Free Moses by Howard Fast Page B

with deference when he is scolded? Only because I consider my talent fairly valuable do I take the liberty of insulting the divine young blood around this place, but you are the first not to threaten to have me quartered and thrown to the crocodiles—a favourite means of execution among your brothers. Who are you? What is your name, Prince of Egypt?”
    Tiptoeing closer, so that he might better see what the man did, Moses answered, “My name is Moses.”
    â€œWhat Moses? Or do you have only half a name?”
    â€œOnly half a name, I’m afraid. I’m the son of the Princess Enekhas-Amon.”
    â€œOh yes, of course—the prince with half a name. The mystery prince of the Great House. Let me have a look at you, boy.” He carefully placed his pen in a holder and turned to Moses, revealing the lean and thoughtful countenance of a man of forty or so, grey-haired, and with a pair of dark, small eyes that seemed permanently narrowed in detached amusement. Yet he was obviously surprised to see the tall young man who stood facing him, observed him with interest, and finally smiled.
    â€œYes, for half a name, you hold your own. You don’t look like half a man, Prince of Egypt. May I call you Moses? You don’t seem as prone to vanity or anger as your brothers.”
    â€œCall me Moses, yes, and I must explain that they are not my brothers. The God Ramses is not my father, and I am the only child of the divine Enekhas-Amon.”
    The man nodded with appreciation at this.
    â€œAnd who are you, sir?” Moses asked.
    â€œNo one very much, and of no station, low in birth and of common blood. My only good fortune is to have a trade and a skill. I am chief engineer in construction, at the bidding of the God Ramses and responsible to him alone. I am also very good at my work, if I may say so, and since of all the gods who ever sat on the Pharaoh Throne since Egypt lives, the God Ramses is most passionately fond of building—and knows more about it than most engineers, I may add—he endures me and my work. That is why I can take liberties. I have a caustic tongue and a nasty dislike for empty vanity, even when exhibited by those of divine birth. So long as the God Ramses desires another building or road or tomb, this will be tolerated. When or if he grows tired of this particular avocation, I will have my throat cut. Until then, I shall mind my own business and keep out of palace politics and say what I please. My name, Moses, is Neph, a plain, common name that poor people bestow on their children when their children are many and when poverty has dried their sense of poetry.
    â€œI was one of eleven children—and now I am the only one alive. None of the others lived past a thirtieth year, and my father and mother laid themselves down and died when the great banker, Seti-Kaph, who held their land in mortgage, took it because they had a bad harvest and could not make payment. I don’t know why I am telling you this, except that I seem to like you, and knowing a little about you, I suppose I pity you. My own fortune came when my mother’s brother, who had become one of these new priests of the new era, succumbed to her pleading and had me apprenticed to one of the engineers engaged in building this Great House. For five years I cleaned his tools, scrubbed him, flattered him, and crawled on my belly before him. Yet, before this house was finished, I was drawing and changing plans. This very room was part of my design with the dream that I might work here some day. But since I remain a man who lives by his work as well as his wits, I must go back to it now, having told you the story of my life—and having failed, as I see, to shock you or drive you away.”
    â€œI would like to stay for a while, if you will permit me?”
    â€œIt is not mine to permit. You are the prince.”
    â€œOnly with your permission, Neph, will I stay. I would like to watch you as you