Land of Rameses

By LS Baker Jr

Land of Rameses is an epic historical-biblical mystery novel in which Pharaoh, while navigating the political intrigue of his inner circle of advisers in order to expand his empire, must first decode his fathers cryptic dying words: Beware of Ramoses!

It is the Exodus story you know and love, told as youve never read and faithful to the Bible and Egyptian Archaeology in a way youll never forget. Land of Rameses reveals the secret to ultimate triumph following abject failure. It is the story of the struggle we all have to endure in order to either suppress or succumb to the pressure of outside forces on our lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Mar 5, 2015
• ISBN: 9781490871417

LS Baker Jr

L. S. Baker, Jr. holds a masters degree in Egyptian Archaeology from University College London and a masters in Divinity from Andrews University, where is he is currently finishing a PhD in Archaeology. He spends each summer in the Middle East on archaeological digs and currently serves as a field director at Tal Jalul. Baker is active in his church and the community and is the director of a local boys and girls “Pathfinders” club in Berrien Springs, Michigan. He and his wife Arnie Lou have two daughters, Einra Leie and Lora Czen.

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Copyright © 2015 Leslie Scott Baker Jr.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.westbowpress.com

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4908-7142-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-7143-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-7141-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015903385

WestBow Press rev. date: 3/5/2015

Contents

Dedication & Gratitude

Early 18th Dynasty Family Tree

Introductory Note

Day 01 Prologue

Day 02 Mystery

Day 03 Recalled

Day 04 Backstory

Day 05 Tension

Day 06 Backstory

Day 07 Opposed

Day 08 Backstory

Day 09 Backstory

Day 10 Reunited

Day 11 Backstory

Day 12 Success

Day 13 Backstory

Day 14 Confrontation

Day 15 Strawless

Day 16 Backstory

Day 17 Backstory

Day 18 Backstory

Day 19 Serpent

Day 20 Backstory

Day 21 Backstory

Day 22 Backstory

Day 23 Blood

Day 24 Frogs

Day 25 Lice

Day 26 Flies

Day 27 Pestilence

Day 28 Boils

Day 29 Hail

Day 30 Locusts

Day 31 Darkness

Day 32 Firstborn

Day 33 Exodus

Day 34 Mummy

Day 35 Land of Rameses

Day 36 Backstory

Day 37 Attack

Day 38 Red Sea

Day 39 Reflections

Day 40 Epilogue

Glossary of Helpful Names and Terms

Chapters in Chronological Story Order

Bible Passages in Exodus

TO MY FAMILY

My parents: Scott and Carol – for teaching me the right way

My brothers and sisters: David, Stephen, Missy, & Katie – for always being there for me

My wife: Arnie Lou – for being my love and inspiration

&

My daughters: Einra Leie & Lora Czen – for being my joy

I hope you find this book satisfying and

a reflection of the man you helped me become

A special thank you to

Carol F. Baker and Deborah Everhart, proofreaders

and

Jay Mosquera, cover design & illustration

the quality of this book

has been greatly improved because of your

careful and talented work

with sincerest gratitude,

L. S. Baker, Jr.

vice-president, Builders of Faith

www.builders-of-faith.org

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Introductory Note

What an honor it is for me to have been asked by our author to write a few notes introducing this story. I honestly believe that this is the new wave of educational novel.

We, in the world of archaeology, struggle to get even our colleagues to read our reports, and we harbor no delusions of grandeur in regard to the general populace. To the public, archaeology is the high world of adventure involving death-defying escapes, tomb robbing, and romance. Few care for the early hours, back-breaking labor, and monotonous record-keeping of an archaeological dig. However, much useful information is recovered from these efforts. Our author has hit upon a way of presenting that information in an entertaining and memorable style.

Another, oft owned, seldom read source of information is the Bible. Most, in our world, find it boring and outdated. Many are shocked to learn that the Bible is filled with sex, bloodshed, violence, and perversion – the same base subjects used in our entertainment world to hold our collective attention. It probably comes as a shock to many, who consider the characters in the Bible to be the sanitized versions presented in children’s books, to learn that the world of the ancients was exactly like ours in this regard. They had the same passions and desires, the same greed and lust, the same corruptions and perversions as we experience today. But that is the point. That is exactly the world that the God of the Bible is attempting to save humanity from. However, many of the stories in the Bible would be rated R by our modern standards, and this provides a bit of a difficulty when talking about certain parts of stories to audiences of mixed ages. Again, our author has found a solution.

By presenting these stories in their real settings, but suggesting rather than describing the realities of life, the reader still retains the impact intended by the authors of the biblical text without having to read what many would consider smut.

So why write a story that many have written on, movies have been made of, and most people know? The main reason has to be because it is just plain fun! Storytelling is an art. The crafting of a story that is at the same time both informative and compelling is challenging and extremely enjoyable. And this one is both.

You will fall in love with these characters and wish that this already long story was just a little bit longer still. Our author has assured me that there are more stories to come. I know that I, for one, cannot wait.

So without further ado I will leave you in the hands of Joshua as he sits on Mt. Sinai waiting for Moses’ return. Each chapter will serve as another day he sat waiting. As the story presses forward, he will remember backstories that help explain the main that takes place in and around the Land of Rameses.

Dr. Trace Summerfield

(a.k.a. Panther Trace)

Prologue – Day 01 Prologue

June, 1447 B.C.

MOUNT HOREB, SINAI

Two men walked left, through the gap in the mountains, up a gentle slope before tackling a much steeper climb among giant boulders and over large cobbles. Together, they had waited six days on a small flat ledge nestled at the base of the mountain for this moment, for this day, this Sabbath. Ahead was the cloud that had the appearance of a consuming fire to the waiting assemblage down below in the plain. It had been a time of meditation, searching of the heart, and much prayer.

They had just been summoned from the midst of the cloud and now ascended quickly, the older man leading the way; his speed and agility belied his age and appearance. He had spent forty long years in this wilderness and was now showing the benefits of chasing young wayward goats and curious lambs up ascents just like this one. The younger man, though in his twenties, well built, and trained for a military life, was, nonetheless, finding it took everything he had to keep up with his eighty-year-old mentor.

Towering red-granite cliffs slipped by as the men found their way over the mixture of dark gray fist-sized rocks dusted with the dull brown film that covered everything in this barren land. The way was very steep now as it wound up to the right, and the military man’s quadriceps and calf muscles were screaming at him to rest. They had been climbing now for forty-five minutes. How remarkable was this man that he followed! He was apparently not tired in the least. For the sixth time at least, on this climb, he found himself wondering what kind of man he was following when suddenly he was snapped back to the present by the realization that they had reached the top, of sorts. It couldn’t be the very top for he could see to his left another ascent that rose above them at the back of the mountain. The large cloud that was the object of their climb loomed to their right, which also suggested a higher peak.

They were in a moderately flat area surrounded on nearly all sides by rock faces. Behind them was the crevice they had just come through. Directly in the center of the cloud, on their right, was a large gap. Moses was obviously intent on walking straight into that gap and into that cloud. The air was electric and the crackle could be heard echoing against the rock faces.

Joshua felt a renewed sense of awe in this place. Nothing that had happened in the past few months could be categorized as normal. Yet, to be this close to the cloud that had led them on their journey was overwhelming all his senses.

Stay here.

Joshua was again brought back to the reality of the moment. Moses had turned and was looking at him. Joshua, stay here and wait for me. I am going further up and further in. I will be back and together we will return to the people.

That was it. He turned and disappeared into the cloud. Joshua could see his form for only a split second and then Joshua was alone. But he didn’t really feel alone. How could anyone feel alone in this place? Although there were no other humans even remotely close, he didn’t feel lonely.

He took time now to further evaluate where he was. The peak directly opposite the place where Moses had entered appeared taller than the one to which Moses was now headed; however, it was hard to judge since the cloud obscured the view. In fact, now that he thought of it, a cloud was really covering everything.The cloud that was covering the part of the mountain where he was, looked like a mist or light fog. But that into which Moses had disappeared was denser, more intense, and much more formidable. It is doubtful that even Moses would have had the gumption to touch it, much less walk full on into it, had he not been called to do just that.

Nevertheless, he had, and that left Joshua with some time on his hands. He looked around and happily discovered that there was a small area straight ahead of him that was built back into the rock face. Since the main area was considerably larger, he felt more comfortable in this smaller recess. This was where he would wait. He could sit with his back to the wall and see the entire gap into which Moses had gone without being in that wide open expanse. Not that size intimidated him. He was used to wide open places. It just felt more secure to have a rock against his back. More importantly, he knew that Moses could see him there as well, if he were to return while Joshua was sleeping. Joshua wasn’t too concerned with the elements since the cloud provided adequate protection from the sun.

However, he would need water. He didn’t know how long he would be up here and was relieved as he scanned the small mountain-valley to see a little stream flowing down the mountain through this place that contained the precious, life-sustaining liquid. As for food, there was always the manna to eat so he knew that he shouldn’t get hungry.

How appropriate, he thought as he sat down, that God would have brought a bunch of foreign slaves, surrounded from birth by the awe-inspiring size and majesty of the red granite statues of Egyptian gods and kings, to a mountain made out of the same stuff, and then fill the whole mountain with His presence!

Joshua settled himself against the rock and was pleasantly surprised at how comfortable he felt.

What a trip. Joshua needed this break. The journey had been an emotional high intermingled with stress-filled lows. Yet Moses had born it all surprisingly well. Much better, in fact, Joshua admitted to himself, than he would have, had he been leading. He was happy that Moses was the leader and not himself. Now that he had some time to think about it, Moses was simply amazing. Joshua had never known anyone quite like him.

The first time that Joshua could remember being told about Moses was twenty years ago when he was just a boy. During the intervening years from then until now, Joshua had heard rumors – bits and pieces of stories and legends that he didn’t know whether to believe or not. But after these past three months when he had really gotten to know the now-Israelite icon, he had begun to wonder if some of those stories were actually true. After all, Moses was not the type of leader who would easily talk about himself unless he felt that there was a lesson to be learned. But Joshua had worked hard to get him to talk, maybe more than Moses liked. Also Joshua had had Miriam and Aaron to talk with about the early days. When Jethro, Moses’ father-in-law, had met up with them a few days ago, Joshua had learned even more of the story. He met Zipporah, Moses’ Midianite wife, and his two sons, Gershom and Eliezer. They also had added to the story.

Joshua hadn’t yet had time to think about it all. But now he had plenty of time. So he decided that for however long it took for God and Moses to talk, he would review these stories in his mind. Each day that he was on the mountain waiting for the return of Moses, Joshua would spend the time in contemplation of the man, Moses.

From what he knew from his own experiences and from what he had recently learned, the life of this man was remarkable. How could anyone go from being a slave baby condemned to die before birth, to the prince of Egypt in direct line to the throne, to a fugitive shepherd on the run to save his life, to perhaps, the greatest man Egypt had ever known and the man God wanted to talk with face-to-face?

What a life! What a man.

Day 02 Mystery

1450 B.C.

PERUNEFER, EGYPT

Ra, the Egyptian god of the sun, had just finished his journey in the day-boat across the surface of the sky Nut, and was switching to his night-boat to sail through the Akhet that separated day from night and into Naunet, the sky of the Duat, or underworld, before being reborn at dawn the next morning remarkably back in the east. At least that is what Amenhotep had been taught to believe. The priests had drilled into his mind the concept of the world as a bubble. And why shouldn’t he believe it? Geb, the god who represented the flat surface of the earth (in fact, was the earth itself) separated these two worlds. The world below Geb was the world of the dead. And the world above Geb was the world of the living – Amenhotep’s world – and he was about to be the Horus, the living Pharaoh of this world.

Menkheperre, the throne name of his father, the third Thutmoses of this regal family, was soon to become the Osiris, the dead Pharaoh of the world under Geb. One day Amenhotep knew that he too would become the Osiris just as his father was about to do. Then Amenhotep’s son, also named Amenhotep, of whom he was very proud, would be the new Horus (or living Pharaoh). That was the way of life. That was balance. That was Ma’at. It was what kept order in the world. And Amenhotep determined to keep it that way. He was determined to be as great a king as his father was.

For a few years now Amenhotep had been serving as a sort of co-Pharaoh with his father to ensure a smooth transition. But soon he would adopt his own throne name and serve alone. Alone, that is, until it was his turn to train his son in the same way his father had just trained him. His father was leaving this world, but his name would remain in Amenhotep’s second son whom he had named Thutmoses.

Amenhotep admired his father. Never had Egypt had a king as capable as he – a man of balance and ambition, who spent half of the year maintaining order in the Khasut, or desert countries that surrounded Egypt, and the other half maintaining order in Egypt itself. Egypt had never controlled as many of these countries as it had under Menkheperre Thutmoses. He subdued uprisings before they happened and brought large numbers of captives back from those lands to be slaves, not to mention the money and other forms of loot. Egypt was rich and powerful, and it was because of his father.

The rest of the year, when Thutmoses was not on a campaign, he spent in Egypt, the Tawi (or Two-Lands), the center of the earth. Egypt, after all, was divided into two lands. The administration center was in Waset, the capital, which was located in Upper Egypt. Upper Egypt was all of the land around the Nile in the narrow Nile River Valley. Where the Nile split and fanned out before entering the large sea to the north, a land of marshes and wet-lands, was Lower Egypt. Amenhotep had spent much of his life in the Lower Kingdom but he preferred the Nile Valley of Upper Egypt. It was drier and cleaner. Amenhotep didn’t know why his father spent time down here. It was dank and riddled with unpleasant bugs.

His father had projects in many locations in the two lands of Egypt. Menkheperre had positioned large colonies of slaves in key parts of the country working to build all manner of monuments, temples, palaces, and even a tomb in the secret valley west of Waset. But he seemed preoccupied with the slave colony in the Land of Rameses, the unique spur of land in this Lower Kingdom, perfect for shepherding, which connected the easternmost branch of the Nile River to the eastern desert region.

Thutmoses had spent so much energy punishing this group of slaves. Amenhotep didn’t care how they were treated – slaves were slaves – but he didn’t understand the effort. If his father had one fault, in his opinion, this was it. These slaves – Hebrews he thought they were called – were a shepherding people. How they had managed to remain in that prime location through the Great War and the organization of the New Kingdom after it, he would never know. But they had, and his father hated them. In fact, the city Amenhotep and his father were in this night was one that these people had built.

The city had been named Ra’amses, meaning born of Ra, before Amenhotep had been born. A strange name for a city, he had thought when he had learned of this former name one day during a slip of the tongue by one of the courtiers. He was glad his father had insisted on changing its name to Perunefer.

Amenhotep looked out through a window. His mind was wandering uncharacteristically tonight. Perhaps it was the tense excitement of the moment. He was not excited that his father was dying, of course, but because he would soon rule – alone. In a matter of hours (perhaps less) he would be a living god! That thought was intoxicating and he liked it. He liked it a lot!

The cool breeze of the crystalline night tickled his cheek as he heard footsteps behind him. It was time. Menkheperre was about to board the barque and pass into the next world. But first, he had something he wanted to tell his son. Amenhotep had expected this and was ready when his father’s butler approached in a bowed position.

Together their footsteps made padded thaps on the granite floor of the hallway as the men moved determinedly toward the bed chamber of Thutmoses. Amenhotep didn’t even notice the wrinkled shapes of humanity that held the torches that lit his way. He didn’t notice because he didn’t care. They were elderly slaves who weren’t good for much else but to hold torches. He would have had them all killed the moment they could no longer work at other useful duties, but his father had enjoyed using them in this way and, well, he didn’t have to pay them as he would have Egyptian servants. Amenhotep didn’t care that they had to stand for long hours on end. He didn’t care about the pain and suffering this caused them. They were tools: if they didn’t do their job, they would be disposed of and others brought in to replace them. After all, there were plenty of them.

The elegantly carved gold-leafed wooden doors swung back as the hands of the courtiers softly pushed against them. They hardly made a sound in their sockets. The room was dark. Only a single light near the bed illumined anything. The bedsteads were in the shape of the goddess Hathor, in bovine form, one on each side of the bed so that it looked like twin cows, extremely gaunt, were holding him up. Thutmoses lay in his bed – too still. It was unnatural but expected. Female servants slowly fanned him with long poles topped by ostrich feathers. Everything that could be embossed with gold was. Gold was the skin of the gods and Menkheperre was a god on earth – at least for a few more minutes.

The translucent drapes undulated in a living way as breaths of air from the fans caressed them. These were drawn aside as Amenhotep approached.

He stood for a moment at the foot of his father’s bed. Such a glorious man. Such an inglorious end. He wished for something more dramatic, more memorable for himself.

Amenhotep determined that his father would receive all that his rank demanded – he would see to that. The world should know and remember his father. He promised himself this.

…is that….you……….my son….?

At this Amenhotep moved with purpose toward the head of the man he admired, yes, even loved. He hadn’t thought of it before, but he did love his father. It is I, father.

Thutmoses motioned feebly with his hands at the servants. He was a hard man who had lived a hard life. It was almost painful to look at him now. The servants obeyed without words, each backing away and disappearing into the darkness. The only light that remained was from an oil-stand shaped as a cobra wound around a pole about waste high at the head of the bed. Eerie shadows were thrown on the floor and against the filmy linen that hung about, still undulating.

Sit down…son…..I have something…to tell………you.

Father, perhaps you should –

Tell you…that I…….I am……….proud…of you. I am. I am….dying. You…are now…..Nesut-Bity, Aakheperure, his voice began to gain strength as he proclaimed the prenomen, or throne name of his son, the second Amenhotep, now King of Upper and Lower Egypt, Aakheperure. This would be Amenhotep’s official name used to refer to him in written texts.

You will rule in the strength and might of Ra, Amenhotep. You are now the Horus, I, the Osiris. You will rule Tawi, I the Duat. Together we will maintain…. at this his voice faltered again, …Ma’at.

Amenhotep moved instinctively toward his father but caught himself as Thutmoses began to speak again.

I have complete…confidence…….in you. You…….are capable to follow me. His father often spoke in this looping way. It had the effect of throwing off a listener if one wasn’t careful but did serve to produce numerous nuanced meanings, which had political advantages.

Thutmoses continued, momentarily stronger again, Our family is strong. Strength is our power. Power to rule. A rule that was taken from us, for a time, by her. Her who made a slave……to be a god…. his voice trailed off. Amenhotep thought for a moment that his father was falling into a delirium. Her? Her who? What slave?

Thutmoses’ eyes were beginning to glaze over. This was it. He was passing into the next world. Keep watch…….., the thin raspy voice quickly losing strength mumbled, ….for…….Ra…………….moses.

PITHOM, EGYPT

Alone. She was now nearly alone. All she had left in life was her brother Aaron. Their father had died a few years earlier and their mother a few days ago. So it was just her and Aaron.

Miriam loved her brother. He was a strong man when it came to God and he was always trying to buoy the faith of the other Hebrews. He was a good man of amiable disposition and a leader, of sorts, among the people. They looked to him in times of trouble, of which there were far too many these days. He usually had good counsel. But if he had one fault it was that he was vacillating and had a weak spirit when it came to standing alone for the right. He needed his friends to be on his side. He needed the good will of the people. This had also caused some trouble in his own family. He wasn’t as firm for the right with his own boys, in her opinion. But he was her brother. And he was all she had left.

What a life! She had hoped for so much more. Now over eighty years old, she realized that she would die a slave in this place. Slaves were usually prisoners of war, but not her people. At one time they had been guests of the kingdom that they were now slaves of. Her people had become feared for their rapid growth and ethnic link with the former rulers of this nation. As a result, they were forced into slavery. They were forced to work long hours with no days off and could never leave. However, slavery in Egypt didn’t mean total ownership as it did in other nations. For example, slaves in Egypt could still own land. Her people lived in and owned the land of Rameses. Slaves were also free to marry whomever they chose, including freeborn people, as Shelomith, daughter of Dibri, from the tribe of Dan had. And they could even employ servants of their own, if they could afford to pay them. But that said, they were not really free.

Miriam worked in the textile industry owned by the great general Amenemheb, a nobleman from the city of Pithom. Most of the Israelite women had jobs like this at various places in the Lower Kingdom. The others, who didn’t work in the manufacturing of linen, worked in noblemen’s houses. There were many in Pithom and in Perunefer. She had once had a job like that. But noblemen preferred the younger, more attractive females for the house work, and she had not fit that description for a long time.

To manufacture linen took an enormous amount of work, which is why the Egyptians employed slaves for the job. It kept costs down and ensured a lasting workforce. Linen, made from the fibers of the flax plant, was especially valued for its coolness in hot weather. It allowed the wearer to feel fresh longer than other materials. Its quality was based primarily on growing conditions and the techniques used to harvest it.

The Egyptians had this process down to a science. They would have their slaves either pull up the entire plant or cut it very close to the ground. By doing this they would ensure that the longest possible fibers were obtained to work with. Once harvested, the seeds had to be removed from the plant through a process called winnowing. Then the plant had to be retted to loosen the fibers from the stalk. This was done by putting the plants in pools. One reason that linen production was done in the Lower Kingdom was the vast amounts of water available there as a result of the swampy conditions. There was something about these stagnant pools that retted the plants naturally. They had also learned over time that this process worked faster in pools of older water.

When the plants were ready, some of the girls would fetch the stalks and prepare them for scutching. This process was used to remove the woody portions of the stalk by crushing the plant between two heavy stone rollers. Once the fibers (which were saved for other purposes) were separated from the other parts of the plant, they were combed to remove the short fibers.

Scutching was done during the first season of the year, Akhet, also called Inundation. The Egyptians separated their year into three equal parts according to agriculture. The first season was marked by the rise of the Nile, which brought the rich silt to the fields bordering the Nile. This was what caused the land to be so fertile. This Inundation was the part of the year when most peasant men were conscripted to work for building programs of the government since there was nothing they could do in their own fields.

The second season was called Peret or Growing. As the name suggested, this was the time of the year when crops were planted and grown. Following this was Shemu or Harvesting, the third season. It was during this time of the year when the flax plants were harvested and retted. Naturally, then, during the part of the year when nothing could be planted the manufacture of the linen was undertaken. This is why scutching was done in the first season.

After scutching, another group of women then spun the long fibers so they could be used by still another group of women who would weave them into the textiles themselves. This was what Miriam did. After woven, she would give the fabrics over to be bleached or dyed.

It wasn’t bad work but the hours were too long. The redeeming factor was that she was able to work with her own people. Although she only had one brother left in her immediate family, she was reminded, as she looked around her, that she did have her people. And the women needed her. She made up her mind that in spite of her own personal losses, she would be strong for them. God would give her strength. He was always with her even in great loss. And this too was another reason that she wasn’t really ever alone.

PERUNEFER, EGYPT

‘Ramoses.’ He said, ‘Keep watch for Ramoses,’ Amenhotep said, throwing the cup of wine to the floor, thoroughly irritated. Were they idiots?

Perhaps he meant, ‘Keep watch OVER Ra’amses, Jannes said. It is an important city and to build it he did spend a lot of time and energy. Certainly he would want the city to continue to grow and be strong.

Or maybe he was referring to the land of Rameses and wanted you to keep watch that enemies might attack from that direction, Jambres added. Amenhotep was quick to reward those who served him well and encouraged his advisors to speak up. He preferred to have bad ideas spoken rather than to have good ideas kept silent. However, everyone present knew not to speak too dogmatically. That was just prudent politics. Amenhotep wanted good ideas but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t get upset over bad ones. And an upset god with ultimate power was not someone you wanted to anger regardless of the possibilities for reward.

Perunefer! Amenhotep was worked up now. Did they think he was ignorant? Of course he had thought of both of these options. He changed the city’s name to ‘Perunefer.’

This was technically correct. All the inscriptions had been worded to reflect this. However, habits died hard. The location where the city now stood had been the seat of government by the previous administration, the hated Hyksos, when it was called Avaris. It was never actually destroyed but had been lived in continuously since the Great War. The current city had begun to be built back in his great-grandfather’s reign. Sometime later the name had been changed to Ra’amses. He, himself, did not find it hard to refer to it by the new name, Perunefer, since that was what it had been called his whole life. His father had wanted it that way and Thutmoses would not have made the mistake of calling it Ra’amses. Of this Amenhotep was sure.

And he said, ‘Keep watch FOR Ramoses,’ not ‘OVER Ra’amses.’ Then, with a sudden change of tone he pondered, Why would the last words of the Great Horus be a warning?

Amenhotep had been contemplating the meaning of his father’s words for days now throughout the duration of his journey downriver, back to the moist land of Lower Egypt. He had kept his promise and buried his father with all the pomp and prestige that could be mustered. Then he had personally escorted his father’s mummy with a smaller contingent to the secret valley where it was laid to rest in the beautifully decorated tomb there after the Opening of the Mouth ceremony and other necessary rituals.

As an afterthought he added, He was obviously talking about Hatshepsut before that! This had to be what he meant. But that part about a slave was still stumping him. How could a slave become a god? And what did this have to do with Ramoses?

Find out all you can about anyone named ‘Ramoses.’ Also I want to know why this city was named ‘Ra’amses’ and why the land that those Hebrew slaves still live in is called ‘Rameses.’ And I want it yesterday, he didn’t add. He didn’t have to. Threats were not always necessary to voice. And he knew this might take some time to accomplish.

Those in attendance melted away as shadows do before the power of Ra. Only one stayed behind and Amenhotep barely noticed him. The butler had already cleaned up the mess and was preparing to hand him another drink.

Why did his father have to be so cryptic? Send Kenamun to me, he said to no one in particular, taking the cup without looking. That was a man he could trust. After all, they had fought together in Retjenu during the wars and had been friends for years. He would appoint him as Steward of Perunefer and then assign him to look deeply into its history. He liked military men – men of action. They were direct and to the point, unlike the priests who always seemed to be scheming behind the scenes. Yes, Kenamun would do well – very well indeed.

LAND OF RAMESES, EGYPT

Whatever you say, I will always consider you fortunate, the athletically built man in his mid-forties said to his younger, slightly taller, muscular friend. They were standing in the narrow, crooked, devastatingly filthy alley (for it was far too small to be called a road) in front of the older man’s home on the western end of the land where their people lived. He didn’t live there alone. In fact, all four sisters, six brothers – two of those were married (as was he) with a couple of children of their own – three uncles and their families, and a couple of grandparents all in a space that could really only comfortably accommodate a third that number. But since when was their existence in this place comfortable?

Their homes – shacks, really – constructed of rejected building materials were neglected, not because the inhabitants were lazy but because they were hardly ever home. When they were home they usually spent the time resting. Each dwelling was built onto those next to it. No space was wasted. This is the reason the streets were so narrow. They didn’t have to accommodate carts - just people. Lots of people.

There were now over two million Hebrews living in this area, if you counted women and children. For those who thought about it – and some who belonged to the older generations did – this was a remarkable feat considering the circumstances, more so when one considered that they really only started with about seventy persons, depending on how you counted them.

The circumstances they lived in were that they were all slaves – men and women, elderly and children. Everyone was expected to perform tasks that lasted twelve hours each day, seven days a week. This was brutal on their home lives, but somehow they managed to find time to perform that most delightful of tasks and their families grew.

Being thus occupied wasn’t all bad. It did have some advantages. Their community, which lay in the land formerly called Goshen (most still called it that) during the Hyksos occupation, was able to avoid some of the social degeneration that other communities struggled with in Egypt. For example, in the workers’ village near the secret valley where the kings were now having their final resting places constructed, men often left for the work week to live in small huts closer to the work site (as most of the people here did). This left the women at home. Also left behind were some men who performed tasks that didn’t require that they leave the village. With so many women and only a few men for days at a time in closely confined areas, problems of infidelity were known to occur. This was a grave social offense, even in Egypt, but a common one in such communities.

What compounded the situation further was the loose view of clothing, which again only fueled the worst aspects of human nature. In a country that normally viewed fashion more in the terms of hot and cold, many men worked with only a cloth wrapped around the waist, often one which opened in the front. Some even discarded this kilt, preferring to work without any clothing than be encumbered by a garment in the heat of the day.

Women never wore tops in any level of society except as a fashion statement. Most wore lower garments similar to those worn by men, tied around the waist, with the opening in the front, which for the most part was kept closed. The children of both genders ran about completely without clothing until puberty.

It was thought that Egypt was an advanced society, beyond the moral difficulties that other lesser nations struggled with. Egyptians were the highest form of humanity – or so the Egyptians thought. Thus the working classes were too enlightened to worry about such things as modesty. When they did wear more clothing it was as a status symbol.

The upper class, about two percent of the populace, which included nobles, priests, and royalty, were concerned with status and as a result often wore more clothing than the commoners. Their linen was made very fine, extremely thin, and very revealing. The more fine and revealing, the more expensive and the higher their status.

The lower class and the slaves below them often had only one garment each. Because they couldn’t afford linen, they wore a coarser, thicker garment that actually served to conceal their forms better. Those who worked as house slaves wore nearly nothing. If promoted they were given clothing to demonstrate their rank.

However, this was not as true with the Hebrews. Their culture, while nearly lost to the Egyptian culture in which all of them by this time had been born, did demand a higher moral standard. Again this worked more in their favor and prevented much of the abuse that went on around them. But their culture was beginning to slip away. Long hours working meant less time for family instruction and almost no time for worship. This was decried by the patriarchs in the communities more with each passing day.

Religion was not just a part of life; it was life. This was true of the Egyptians and for each of the countries that the slave communities were from. Every part of life was ruled by their view of religion. Religion was just a vehicle by which belief and worship could be understood and brought to the people. And while each country had a slightly different view of religion, none was as different as were the Hebrews.

For some in the land of Rameses, watching their children work with the heathen (as they considered the Egyptians) and witnessing daily the abominations of their captors was too much. During all of their years as slaves in this country there were many who still worshiped Yahweh, following His commands as best they could, and attempting to bring the rest of their families and neighbors back to what they considered to be right living.

One thing that most bothered the faithful Hebrews was the style of clothing being adopted by the younger generations with ever-increasing frequency. More and more their preferences were beginning to follow the customs and demands of the Egyptians, and that bothered their elders.

This was not, however, true with the two men who stood talking together outside this evening. They were among the few young adults who saw what was going on around them with perceiving eyes and understanding hearts much older than their years. They felt a strong pull to return to the worship of their ancestors.

How am I fortunate? the younger one asked, with a broad smile on his handsome face.

While we work all day building houses for people we don’t even know, you get to travel as personal valet to one the greatest generals in all of Egypt! With eagerness in his voice belying the dignified persona he was trying to portray, he added, Tell me about it!

Caleb, his younger friend said with great affection, it is not all that it seems. Still, he thought for a moment, and then with a twinkle in his eye, said, it is great! And the general was even awarded the Golden Flies of Valor!

The what?

The Golden Flies of Valor. It is a medal that one wears around the neck, and it is only given to the highest-ranking soldiers of Egypt.

For what?

But this time Caleb’s question was not answered. His young friend had turned to look at a particularly dark place back up the alley. Was there someone out there listening? Caleb waited for a moment, seeing the hands of his friend tense.

Hoshea? Caleb saw the young man flinch. What is it?

Maybe nothing, Hoshea replied, still looking behind him. I thought I heard something.

You’re not in a battle camp tonight, my friend, Caleb said with an easy laugh. Relax! Tell me about these ‘Golden Flies.’ Are they made of real gold?

Hoshea laughed and turned back to Caleb. Yes, they are solid gold. There are three of them attached to a thin gold thread that is worn around the neck. And I am sure it is quite valuable.

So what does someone do to get such a medal? Caleb asked in a voice that betrayed his wish to someday have the chance to see it.

I was told it was for his loyal service and valor in war. And in the case of the general, both apply. It is a medal that is much deserved.

Life is hard, Hoshea, Caleb said, changing the direction of the conversation. I really appreciate the time you spend with me, teaching me what you learn. It helps to take my mind away from this place and the repetitive work that we do every day. By the way, why do you think he trains you?

I don’t know, Hoshea answered. Maybe it’s because he is old and getting ready to retire. Perhaps he feels that he needs to tell someone all the things he knows. I really don’t know.

You are fortunate! Caleb said with finality.

Yes, God has certainly blessed me. My master even told me that he will be keeping me on as his personal attendant after he retires.

He is going to retire?

Yes. He said that he will now that the king has died. He is getting too old to deal with the politics and backstabbing that goes on in court. He wants to settle down and enjoy his family.

But is he a good man?

As far as an Egyptian can be, I guess. He is fair. That’s what counts. He knows what is right and tries to live by it. He always weighs his options and considers all sides before making a decision. But he is a general and so, well, I guess it can’t all be good. He paused for a moment and then said, He did let me have the night off to come home and see my family and friends!

It is good to see you, Caleb replied affectionately.

And you too, my friend. They embraced again. Shall we go inside and join the others?

Yes, let’s, Caleb said, reaching for the door. My uncle is really upset about something my little cousin did today.

IUNU, EGYPT

In the southernmost room of the southern side complex to the temple of Ra, Jannes – a tall, thin, bald man – glared across the table at the pudgy priest of Ra who was pointing his stubby finger at him and ranting. Amenhotep had commanded them to make a search, and such a thing must be done in a systematic manner. His fat colleague didn’t see it this way.

This could take years! The younger man was screaming.

Nevertheless, Jannes calmly replied, it must be done this way. There was really no faster method that could be trusted to produce accurate results.

But are we even sure that such an inscription exists?

Jannes looked down his prominent nose at the shorter man, the light from the oil lamp creating shadows that jumped across his gaunt features. Such a look had been known to strike fear in the hearts of men. Not the Priest of Ra, however. He may have been of smaller stature and of considerable girth, but not because he was lazy or weak of heart. He was politically astute and never intimidated – well, almost never. He had always been stout, and as his stress and responsibilities grew greater so had his circumference.

Jannes spoke slowly, The temples are vast; the complexes great. If we read every inscription in each it will take longer. We know that this Ramoses must still be alive for him to be a threat; thus it is pointless to read inscriptions that date further back than the first Thutmoses. And no, we do not know that such an inscription exists. But where else should we look?

This quieted the man. The light danced on the walls as the two men stared at each other. After a moment of silence, a third figure stepped out of the shadows from behind Jannes. He was a huge man, as tall as Jannes if not taller, much heavier, and more intimidating. His deep voice resonated from the cold stone walls that surrounded them. We start with the third Thutmoses and work our way back to the first. Jambres, priest of Ptah, continued, We do it Jannes’ way.

Jannes did not look at the large man behind him. He didn’t have to. They hadn’t always agreed but had found that together they were much stronger than separate. Anyway, the Priest of Ra was not their enemy. Jannes had worked with him before. There was no god more adored than Ra, which made him a strong ally, if kept in his place.

That said, Amun was the god of choice in the 18th Dynasty that was now in firm control of both lands of Egypt. A New Kingdom had begun from Waset as the princes of the 17th Dynasty had wrested control back from those foreign infidels who had ruled from Lower Egypt for about a hundred years. The current royal family considered themselves a continuation of the 12th Dynasty although there was probably no biological connection between them and that family of the Middle Kingdom. Amun was their god and Jannes was his highest priest in the Lower Kingdom. This made Jannes very powerful indeed. But the people still loved Ra, so Jannes had to consider this man’s ideas and cultivate a proper working relationship with him – to Jannes’ own advantage, of course.

Nothing more was said. The Priest of Ra simply nodded. It was settled.

Scribes would be sent out to search the archives of the temples. Other scribes would begin to break down the inscriptions carved on the temple walls over the past few generations. All would begin with records from Menkheperre, of which there were very many. Surely someone who meant so much to the new Osiris as to be the last words on his dying lips would have been written about by those who worked for him during his rule over Tawi.

LAND OF RAMESES, EGYPT

It’s a disgrace! One man was shouting when the two friends entered the house. They slipped in behind the older men to watch. Custom did not normally allow for a younger man to join in unless he had something important to add to the discussion. But since this was Caleb’s house they were allowed to listen in.

Tell us exactly what happened, an old wiry man said. We haven’t all heard the story.

It’s like I said, a man was groaning, too awful to repeat. He was sobbing in the center of the room with his face buried in his hands.

Please try, the older man urged.

It’s this cursed country! Our children go to work each day. We all do. And they see…awful things. We all do. But they’re only kids. Babies, really! What do they know? I try to teach them. We all try to teach them. But when do we have time? How long do we have to wait for deliverance… His voice trailed off and his body shook as it was racked with heavy silent sobs.

Heads around the room nodded in agreement. They were the elders – leaders in the community. They loved their families and they adored their God. But none could understand why the promised deliverance was so delayed. There was an ever increasing frequency of stories like this.

Please continue, the older man urged again in a tender voice after the man had regained his composure. What happened?

You know that my son works in that vile man’s house. The things that go on in there! My son’s been a good witness. Every day he talks with the other boys who live or work in the house. He told me just the other day that some of them were starting to come around to believe in the only true God.

Heads nodded around the room, out of respect. All were happy for boys like this. Somehow it made life a bit easier to bear when they knew that another generation would continue to worship God.

When the master of the house saw what was going on, he began to speak directly to my boy. Imagine! He wanted to ‘instruct’ him. My son! He asked him which god he served. When my boy told him that he served the Creator God who made heavens and earth, the man asked which one. Faithfully my boy told him that he served the living God.

You have a good boy. The old man smiled.

Yes. But after he told that man the evidence of God’s existence and power – starting with Creation and working through the stories to the time of Jacob – that man, not wanting to be instructed by a slave, began to show my son how his gods fulfilled all of those things as well. Then, when he saw my son becoming confused, he took him to the Temple of Astarte!

At this there was much disgust in the room, and even some spitting. Astarte, while not an Egyptian god, had been brought back to Egypt by soldiers in the conquered lands who had enjoyed her worship there and wanted to continue it while they were home. They had also brought women from those lands who were trained in the particular techniques of temple harlotry so they could train Egyptian women. The cult was growing due to the popularity of the worship style.

But that is not all, he moaned. There my son saw what those women do and being a red-blooded boy began to enjoy what he saw. The things that happen there! They call that worship? Prostitution is what it is!

A general murmur erupted as those who were hearing the story for the first time began to see where it was going.

Then that man promised great rewards to my boy if he would join in. The temptation was strong. But it wasn’t until he threatened him with cruelty that my son gave in. At this the man lost the battle with his composure and broke out in audible sobs.

No! Those in the room responded in shock.

His head just nodded as his body convulsed uncontrollably. Many hands went to their heads in dismay. Others tried to comfort him. After some time the meeting was able to continue.

It’s happening more and more, another even more elderly gentleman began. He was like most of them – thin and old beyond what should have been normal for his years. But he was strong. His name was Hur and he was one of the leading patriarchs in the community. He was well respected and a devote follower of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

Much too frequently, the first man agreed. We have heard reports from many families over the past few months of young people bowing to idols and even wearing amulets for protection. Aaron continued. But this is the first incident of one of our youths uniting with a temple prostitute!

What can we do? Someone inquired earnestly from the other side of the crowded room.

Pray. The answer was immediate and came from the back of the room. It was Hoshea. He had not meant to speak. It just sort of slipped out.

Aaron looked at him and nodded. Yes, pray. We are slaves. We cannot stop this sort of thing by force.

As long as we are slaves, our children will be taken and influenced by the decadent nation that has enslaved us. We need deliverance. The God of our father Israel is our only hope now. Hur spoke with the dignity and force of his station. Remember the words of the patriarch Joseph before he died?

God will surely visit you, Aaron said as if on cue, and bring you out of this land to the land of which He swore to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob.

Most in the room demonstrated their agreement as they nodded their approval, but not all. It was not that they didn’t believe in God, but they looked at the circumstances of their surroundings. They wanted to believe but needed more evidence than the few-hundred-year-old promise. They found it hard to hope. But they would not refuse to pray.

The men in the room covered their heads as Aaron lifted his hands and voice to lead them in beseeching God for help. Korah, a cousin of Aaron, and one who had doubts, covered his head too. But he wondered silently why God would leave them like this for such a long time.

Day 03 Recalled

October, 1448 B.C.

HOREB, SINAI

Moses led his flock down the wadi that led to and past Horeb on the back side of the desert. Actually it was his father-in-law Jethro’s flock, but no shepherd worth his salt would consider the sheep and goats under his care anything other than his own – you just cared more about them that way. The route was one he had often taken in his circuit with the flock. There just wasn’t enough greenery for the animals close to home. It was a hard life and he would have loved to stay closer to home and his dear wife, especially during the cold hard nights.

At least he wasn’t completely without family out here. He did have his boys with him. They were turning out to be fine young men and good shepherds. And in another day or so they would be home.

Eliezer, they’re spreading out too far on the right flank. Bring them back in, he called to the younger of his two boys. Eliezer – that name brought back to his mind how grateful he was that God had taken care of him thus far in his life. He had chosen that name because of its meaning. It was a reference to how God had spared his life from the sword of Pharaoh. God had delivered him. He was sure of that. There could really be no other explanation for how he had escaped from Egypt and survived to reach the eastern part of the Sinai, much further than he had ever gone before, to be taken in by a man of God – his God, the God. He had never been found by Pharaoh’s army, an army that he knew all too well was more than capable of accomplishing this. The army was too well trained, he knew, for him not to have been tracked and found, unless God had intervened. Perhaps he would never know how God had accomplished this, but that He had was not in doubt.

His mind wandered to Pharaoh. It had been a long time – nearly forty years, in fact – since he had last seen him. He had always kept an ear out in the market for any news or gossip regarding the lands of the Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, Perizzites, Hivites, and Jebusites, for these were the lands that Thutmoses had been conquering over the years since Moses had left Egypt. The latest news was that Pharaoh was still up to his annual campaigns in those lands to…how did it go…Subdue uprisings and raise up the subdued. Thutmoses and his sayings. He had always been fond of turning a phrase. As cute as it sounded, what it really came down to was plunder and pillage, not to mention the displacement of large numbers of people who were now slaves in Egypt.

To make matters worse, the report coming out of Egypt was that Thutmoses’ son, the crown prince, was more arrogant and cruel than his father. He could now admit that he truly felt pity for Thutmoses. At the same time he was happy that he would never have to meet his son.

Horeb now loomed before them. The wadi opened up into a large plain at this point, north of the mountain. He watched as his boys led the flock to the right, keeping them in the shade. They knew that it was important to keep the flock on the west side to avoid the sun at this time of day.

The bulwarks of these mountains, Moses credited with his salvation. For it was in his interaction with these mountains that he grew closer to God. It was hard to admit that even though he was stalwart in his stand against the pagan pantheon of Egypt growing up, he did cultivate a small affinity for those gods, even a sense of awe that he wasn’t aware of until he had spent some time out in this wilderness. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but it was the majesty of these mountains that led his mind to the majesty of the Almighty. These mountains drew him closer to God because in them he saw the Creator of these mountains. Human hands could quarry these rocks and make them smaller, shape them and give them names, but only the hand of God could raise these mountains up. God could create. And