Slow Signal Fade ebooks

A small thin man of about forty years of age
with a puckered, kindly and anxious face, and a brow that seemed to
sink beneath the weight of the double crown that, save for its royal
snake-crest of hollow gold, was after all but of linen, a man with
thin, nervous hands which played amongst the embroideries of his golden
robe--such was Pharaoh, the mightiest monarch in the world, the ruler
whom millions that had never seen him worshipped as a god.
Abi, the burly framed, thick-lipped, dark-skinned, round-eyed Abi, born
of the same father, stared at him with wonderment, for years had passed
since last they met, and in the palace when they were children a gulf
had been set between the offspring of a royal mother and the child of a
Hyksos concubine taken into the Household for reasons of state. In his
vigour, and the might of his manhood, he stared at this weakling, the
son of a brother and a sister, and the grandson of a brother and a
sister. Yet there was something in that gentle eye, an essence of
inherited royalty, before which his rude nature bowed.


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