"How many killed?" asked the king, turning to Mahu again.
"Less than a hundred," he answered.
He knew that more than two thousand had been killed, but, exchanging glances with Ramose, understood that the truth should not be told: the king would be unhappy and perhaps fall ill and nothing would be gained by it—everything would remain as before.
"A hundred people!" the king whispered, bending his head still lower. "Well, you won't have long now....."
"Not long to do what, sire?" Ramose asked.
"To kill people in my name!" the king answered and then asked, after a pause: "Is there a letter from Ribaddi?"
"Yes, there is."
"Show it me."
"I cannot, sire, it is an unseemly letter."
"Never mind, show it."