"Your will shall be done, sire, but remember: once the fire is kindled, there is no putting it out."
"Why, did you think we should just play with the fire and then let it out?" the king said, with a smile. He put both his hands on Merira's shoulders and again looked deep into his eyes.
"I know what makes you wretched, Merira," he said quietly, almost in a whisper. "You have not yet decided whether you are my friend or my enemy. Maybe you will decide very soon. Remember one thing: I love you. Don't be afraid then, my friend, my beloved enemy; be my friend or my enemy to the bitter end. God help you!"
He put his arms round him and kissed him.
The chariot was brought. The king stepped into it and Dio followed him. The whip cracked, the horses dashed off and the chariot flew like the whirlwind.
Merira watched it go, and when it disappeared in the last rays of the setting sun he stretched out his arms towards it and cried:
"You have prophesied your own doom, Akhnaton Uaenra: now your sun is setting, now your kingdom is coming to an end!"
It was already dark when, having driven far into the hilly desert, the king stopped and alighted from the chariot. Dio tied the horses to a spear stuck in the sand. The king sat down on a stone and Dio sat at his feet.
He pointed out to her the distant flame of a bonfire in the desert.
"What is it?" she asked.