The Hippopotamus Marsh by Pauline Gedge

was speaking. Now he was grey, his nostrils pinched, his eyes huge with shock. He put out a hand, then let it drop.
    “Father,” he said urgently. “You cannot do this thing. Please! As you love me, as you love us, do not do this! It is blasphemy. It is death for us, surely you see that?” His voice had risen and then cracked. He was trembling. Abruptly he sank into a chair.
    “We have been over this ground enough,” Seqenenra put in harshly. “I know how you feel, but the time has come to put your personal opinions aside and stand with me. You are my son. Your loyalty must go first to Amun and to me.”
    “I can’t!” Si-Amun bit his lip. His hands were clenched into fists in his lap. “As an Egyptian my first loyalty is to the King. So is yours. It’s treason, Father! Forgive me, but I can’t!” Seqenenra went and stood over him.
    “Are you saying that you will not fight for me?” Si-Amun’s long-lashed black eyes rose and met his. He was on the verge of tears.
    “If you give me a direct order, I will of course fight for you, Prince,” he choked, “but I will not go to the nomes and help you to hasten the moment of our destruction. I abase myself before you. I humble myself. But I will not go.” Seqenenra struggled with his anger, sympathy and an overwhelming sense of betrayal. Sympathy won. He pulled Si-Amun to his feet.
    “Very well,” he said curtly. “I honour your decision because I know that my son does not speak from cowardice. Leave this room.” Unhappily Si-Amun drew himself up, and stalking past a silent Kamose, went out. For a moment Seqenenra and Kamose could not look at each other. Then Kamose straightened his shoulders.
    “He has great courage,” he reminded his father. “He is a good warrior. You must not blame him.” Seqenenra, hurt and aching, did not respond.
    “I will go to the nomes and conscript men,” Kamose went on grimly, “but I think your reason is impaired, Father. How long will it be before your rashness reaches the ears of the One? He has spies in the house, that is certain. I wish with all my heart that you could build the temple instead of an army. I do not want to die.”
    “I am terrified for all of us,” Seqenenra replied, “but you have an inner strength that will never betray you. It is for Ahmose and Aahmes-nefertari and Tani that I grieve.” Kamose’s lips had thinned. He was livid under his deep tan.
    “How will you pay for it all?”
    “I must take Uni into my confidence. And Amunmose. He must beg Amun for the greatest favour he has ever shown this family.”
    “Why not climb onto the roof of the sanctuary with a horn and announce your intentions to the whole of Weset?” Kamose shot back caustically. “It will come to that anyway, Father, and you know it. You must move very fast if you want to strike even the feeblest blow before Apepa sends a fraction of his horde south and demolishes us all.”
    “Will you help me?”
    Kamose clenched his fists. “Of course. The blood of the god is in my veins, too.”
    Seqenenra looked at him curiously. It was the first time Kamose had ever referred so directly to his lineage. I hardly know you, Seqenenra thought. I hardly know you at all.
    With an effort of self-control Si-Amun forced himself to walk to his quarters, answering the greetings of servants affably as he went. His head was whirling. Why are you so surprised? he asked himself sternly. You knew it would come to this, or you would never have made the agreement you did with Teti. Then why this feeling of stunned disbelief? Did you think that Father would wake from his fantasy?
    Si-Amun had not communicated with Teti since his return home. Life had seemed to settle into normality and his father had been his usual taciturn self. Si-Amun, with a curious sense of relief, had allowed himself to smooth away the memory of the lunch with Teti under the fig tree, but now as he reached his own door and entered his bedchamber with weak legs and a pounding