Three Novels of Ancient Egypt

The king shrugged his shoulders angrily. “And what is it you wish to say, my queen?” he asked.

“Khnumhotep requested to see me and I granted him an audience, I listened….”

He did not let her finish. “Is that what the man did?” he said irately.

The queen was dismayed. “Yes. Do you find anything in his behavior that deserves your wrath?”

“I certainly do,” roared the king. “He is a stubborn man. He refuses to do my bidding. I know he is loath to implement the decree. He is watching me, seeking to waylay me in the hope that he will succeed in revoking it by asking sometimes, though I have refused to listen to him, or by encouraging the priests to submit petitions, just as he urged them before to shout out his vile name. The crafty scheming prime minister is rushing blindly down the road of my enemies.”

She was appalled by his thinking and said, “You do the man an injustice. I believe him to be one of the throne's most loyal servants. He is exceedingly wise; his only intention is to forge harmony. Is it not natural that the man should be saddened at the loss of privileges that his institution acquired under the auspicious beneficence of our ancestors?”

Rage flared in the king's heart, for he could find no excuse for a person — who did not comply — with his orders openly or in secret, and he could not accept under any circumstance, that a person might see things differently than himself. Furiously, and in a voice full of bitter sarcasm, he said, “I see that the schemer was able to change your mind, Queen.”

“I was never of the opinion that the temple properties should be seized,” she said indignantly, “I do not see that it is necessary.”

The king's anger resurfaced and there was violence in his words. “Does it displease you that your wealth grows?”

How can he say that when he knows so well where that money is spent?

His words provoked her buried anger and her stifled fury and she flew into a rage and her feelings took control of her. “Every thinking person would be offended to see the land of the wise seized only for their revenues to be spent on frivolous pleasures.”

The king was beside himself and, gesturing threateningly with his hand, said, “Woe betide that scheming man. He would be tempted to sow discord between us.”

She was hurt. “You think in your own mind that I am a gullible child,” she said sadly.

“Woe betide him. He asked to meet the queen so he could talk to the woman concealed behind her royal attire.”

Mortified, she cried out to him, “My lord!”

But he continued, fuelled by his demonic rage, “You came, Nitocris, driven by jealousy, not by a desire for harmony.”

She felt a violent blow strike at her pride and her eyes misted over. Her pulse rang out in her ears and her limbs trembled. For a moment she could not speak. Then she said, “King, Khnum-hotep does not know anything about you that I do not know myself, and yet still he rushes to inform me. And if you think that it is jealousy that inspires me, then be under no illusion. I know, as everyone knows, that you have been throwing yourself into the arms of a dancer on the island of Biga for months.

In all that time have you ever seen me come after you, or try to stop you, or plead with you? And know that he who wishes to preach to a woman will slink back in failure, all he will find before him is Queen Nitocris.”

Pharaoh was incensed. “You are still spewing the burning ash of jealousy,” he said.

The queen stamped her foot on the floor and stood up in exasperation. “King,” she said resentfully, “it does not shame a queen that she be jealous of her husband, but it truly shames a king that he should squander the gold of his nation under the feet of a dancer, and expose his pure and unsullied throne to the malicious gossip of all and sundry.”

With these words the queen departed, turning a deaf ear to his protestations.

Anger engulfed the king, and he lost his composure. He considered Khnumhotep the one responsible for all his troubles. He summoned Sofkhatep and ordered him to inform Prime Minister Khnumhotep immediately that he was waiting for him. The bewildered lord chamberlain set off to carry out his lord's order. The prime minister showed up torn between hope and despair, and was shown in to the furious king. The man pronounced the traditional greeting but Pharaoh was not listening, and interrupted him harshly, “Did I not command you, Prime Minister, never to bring up the issue of the temple estates again?”

The man was shocked by the venomous tone, which he was hearing for the first time, and he felt his hopes fading. “My lord,” he said desperately, “I considered it my duty to bring to your most sublime attention the grievances of a constituency of your loyal and faithful people.”

“On the contrary,” said the king cruelly, “you wanted to stir up the dust between myself and the queen, so that under its cover you might achieve your aim.”

The man held back his hands imploringly, he wanted to speak but he could not get out more than, “My lord, my lord…”