The wild bull froze, staring at young Ramses.

The animal was huge and dark, with legs thick as pillars, drooping ears, and a stiff, pointed beard. It had just sensed the young man's presence.

Ramses was fascinated by its horns, broad and almost joined at the base, then flaring out and upward in a helmet shape, tipped with two lethal points.

In all his fourteen years, Ramses had never seen such an enormous bull.

Even the ablest hunters steered clear of this particular breed. Calm in his own surroundings, protective of the sick and wounded, a watchful parent, the dominant male transformed into a terrifying warrior as soon as his territory was invaded. The slightest provocation could send him charging furiously and with amazing speed, retreating only when his opponent was trampled.

Ramses took a step backward.

The bull's tail whipped the air as he kept a fierce eye on this intruder into his marshy domain. By the tall reeds, a cow was calving, her sisters in a ring around her. In this solitary backwater of the Nile, the huge male reigned over his herd and permitted no challenge to his authority.

The young man had hoped the thick grass would hide him, but the bull's brown eyes, deep in their sockets, were trained on him. Ramses knew there would be no escape.

Ashen, he turned slowly toward his father.

Seti, Pharaoh of Egypt, stood a few feet behind his son. "Victorious Bull," they called him: his mere presence was said to paralyze his enemies. His mind, sharp as a falcon's beak, perceived all; there was nothing he did not know. Slender, stern-faced, with a high forehead, hooked nose, jutting cheekbones, Seti was authority incarnate. Worshiped and feared, the monarch had restored Egypt to her former glory.

Ramses had just met his father for the first time.

Until now, he had been in the care of royal guardians, who taught him all a king's son must know in preparation for a high government position. But this morning Seti had pulled the boy away from his hieroglyph class and driven him deep into the country. Not a word had yet passed between them.

When the vegetation grew too dense, the two had abandoned their two-horse chariot and waded into the tall grass. Once clear, they had entered the realm of the bull.

Which was more frightening, the wild beast or Pharaoh? Ramses felt unequal to the power that emanated from each of them. In legend, the bull was a celestial animal, burning with the fire of the other world, and Pharaoh walked among the gods. Though Ramses was taller than most grown men and naturally courageous, still he felt trapped between two almost conspiring forces.

"He spotted me," the boy said, trying to sound assured.

"Good."

The first word his father spoke to him rang like a death sentence.

"He's so big, he ..."

"And you, who are you?"

The question threw Ramses off guard. The bull pawed the ground with his left front hoof, faster and faster; egrets and herons flew off, as if clearing the battlefield.

"Are you a coward or a king's son?" Seti's gaze pierced his soul.

"I like to fight, but ..."

"A courageous man goes to the limit of his strength. A king goes beyond it. If that is not in you, you are not meant to rule and we will never see each other again. No test should daunt you. Leave, if you wish; otherwise, capture the bull."

Ramses dared to raise his eyes and hold his father's gaze.

"You're sending me to my death."

"My own father told me, 'Take for yourself the power of a bull, forever young, with a stout heart and sharp horns, stronger than any enemy.' Ramses, you came out of your mother's womb like a bull calf. You must become the light of your people, shining like the sun. You were hidden in my hand like a star; today I am setting you free. To shine -- or to vanish."

The bull snorted, irritated by the sound of their voices. All around them, a hush fell over the countryside; from burrower to bird in flight, every creature sensed conflict brewing.

Ramses turned toward the bull.

In hand-to-hand combat, he had already beaten opponents bigger and stronger than himself, thanks to holds learned from his trainer. But what strategy would work against a monster this size?

Seti handed his son a long rope with a slipknot. "His strength is in his head. Catch him by the horns and you will have him."

The young man saw a glimmer of hope. In nautical practice on the palace lake, he had done a great deal of roping.

"Once the bull hears the lasso, he'll charge," warned the Pharaoh. "Don't miss, for you won't get a second chance."

Ramses rehearsed in his mind, silently working up courage. Tall for his age, he had the muscular build of an all-around athlete. He chafed at wearing his ginger red hair in the ritual style of childhood, pulled to one side and anchored in place above his ear. As soon as he was appointed to a court position, he would be allowed to change it -- if fate let him live to see that day.

Young and full of himself, he had been longing for the chance to prove his worth. Yet never had he imagined that Pharaoh himself would translate his dreams into such brutal reality.

Riled by the human scent, the bull grew impatient. Ramses gripped the lasso; once the bull was roped, holding him would take the strength of a giant, a strength he did not have. So he would have to surpass himself, even if his heart burst.

No, he would not disappoint Pharaoh.

Ramses twirled the lasso; the bull ran at him, horns lowered.

Surprised by the animal's speed, the young man stepped quickly aside, snapped his arm, and tossed the rope. It snaked through the air, landing on the bull's back. Recoiling, Ramses stumbled on the damp soil and fell just as the bull's horns were about to gore him. Even as they grazed his chest, he kept his eyes open. He wanted to look death in the face.

The angry bull raced to the edge of the reeds, then spun around and charged again; Ramses, back on his feet, looked him straight in the eye. He would stand up to the beast until the very end. He would show Seti that a king's son knew how to die.

Then the bull's mad dash was stopped outright; Pharaoh had roped him tight around the horns. Tossing his head until he nearly strangled, the raging beast struggled to break free. Seti grappled wildly and flipped the animal.

"Cut off the tail!" he ordered his son.

Ramses ran over and grabbed the smooth, tasseled tail, like the one Seti wore in the waistband of his kilt as proof that he had mastered the bull's power.

Beaten, the beast relaxed into panting and groaning. The king released the animal after signaling Ramses to get behind him.

"The male of this breed can't be broken," he told the boy. "It will run through fire and water, even launch a surprise attack from behind a tree."

The bull stole a sidelong glance at his opponent. Knowing he was powerless against the Pharaoh, he lumbered off toward his herd.

"You beat him!" said Ramses.

"No, we reached an agreement." Then Seti unsheathed his dagger and with a single quick stroke severed the side-lock in his son's hair.

"Father ..."

"Your childhood is over. Tomorrow your life begins, Ramses."

"I didn't beat the bull."

"You conquered your fear, the first enemy on the path to wisdom."

"Are there many others?"

"More than there are grains of sand in the desert."

The question burned on the young prince's lips. "Am I to understand ... that you've chosen me to succeed you?"

"Do you think courage is all it takes to govern men?"