"
Kenkenes took the scroll thrust toward him, and ripped off the linen
wrapping. Unrolling the writing he extended it to the king.
"And there is naught in it of evil intent?" Meneptah asked, putting his
hands behind him.
"Nay, my King; naught but great love and concern for thee."
"Read it," was the next command. "Mine eyes are dim of late," he added
apologetically, for, through the young man's reassuring tones, a faint
realization of the trepidation he had exhibited began to dawn on
Meneptah.
Kenkenes obeyed, reading without emphasis or inflection, for he knew no
expression was needed to convey the force of the message to the already
intimidated king.
When Kenkenes had finished, Meneptah was standing very close to him, as
if assured of shelter in the heroic shadow of the tall young messenger.
The color had receded from the monarch's face, and his eyes had widened
till the white was visible all around the iris.
"Call me the guard," he said hoarsely; but when Kenkenes made as if to
obey, the king stayed him in a panic.
"Nay, heed me not. Mine assassin may be among them." The sound of his
own voice frightened him. "Soft," he whispered, "I may be heard."
Kenkenes maintained silence, for he was not yet ready.
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