"Remember, I pray thee," the captain replied, riding near to her, "that I bring thee this for thine own sake—not for the love of tale-bearing. On the counsel of Rameses, this day the Pharaoh sentenced Seti to banishment for a year to the mines of Libya—"
"To the mines!" Masanath cried in horror.
"Not as a laborer. Nay, the sentence was not so harsh. But as a scribe to the governor over them."
"It matters little!" she declared indignantly. "The boy-prince—the poor, misguided young brother sent to a year of banishment—a lifelong humiliation! Libya, the death-country! Now, was anything more brutal? Nay, it is like Rameses!"
"Aye," the captain replied quickly, leaning over her with a cautioning motion of his hand. "Aye, and it is like thee to say it. But hear me yet further. The queen and the Son of Ptah have quarreled, violently, over Seti," he continued in a low tone. "The little prince merited thy father's disfavor, because Seti espoused the cause of Ta-user in thy place, though he loves thee, and for that—we can find no other reason—the noble Har-hat also urged the king into the harsh sentence of the little prince. For this the queen hath publicly turned her back upon the crown prince and the fan-bearer, and the atmosphere of the palace is most unhappy."
He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Hotep championed Seti,—for the young sister's sake, it would appear,—but to me it seemeth that the scribe hath lost his wits."
"It would seem that he courteth a sentence to the mines likewise, and he needs but to go on as he hath begun to succeed most thoroughly. And it behooveth his friends to prevent him."
He took Masanath's hand and, leaning from the saddle, whispered:
"Ye are under the same roof—thou and Hotep. Avoid him as though he were a pestilence."
He straightened himself and drew his horse away from her so that she could not answer.