Three Novels of Ancient Egypt

The chamberlain departed obediently and all waited, utterly still with consternation drawn on every face, as each man stifled a heartfelt desire to question his neighbor and listen to his thoughts. Sofkhatep remained alarmed and apprehensive, as thoughts raced incessantly through his mind and he snatched worried and bewildered glances from his lord, with whom he sympathized deeply in this dreadful hour. The minutes passed, ponderous and agonizing, as if they were being torn from their very flesh. From his throne the king surveyed the restless governors and the priests, who sat heads bowed. His eyes were barely able to conceal the emotions doing battle in his heart. Then all imagined they heard a commotion borne upon the air from afar. Each man emerged from his inner dialogue and pricked up his ears as the hubbub neared the square outside the palace. It was the clamor of voices cheering and hailing, which as they drew nearer, grew steadily louder and more intense until they seemed to fill the hall, all mingling together, none distinguishable above the rest, yet still the long palace courtyard stood between them and the assembled grandees. The king ordered one of the chamberlains to step onto the balcony and ascertain the cause of the disturbance. The man disappeared for a moment then hastily returned, and, inclining toward Pharaoh's ear, said, “Throngs of the populace are filling the square, surrounding the chariots which come bearing the chieftains.”

“And what is their call?”

“They are saluting the loyal friends from the South and the peace treaty.”

Then the man wavered for a moment before continuing in a whisper, “And, my lord, they are hailing the treaty-maker, Khnumhotep.”

The king's face paled with indignation, and he felt some great malice driving him into a corner as he wondered how he could call a people who were feting the Maasayu chieftains and hailing the peace treaty, to go to war with the very same Maasayu. He awaited the approaching dignitaries with a growing sense of exasperation, despair, and gloom.

An officer of the guard announced the arrival of the leaders, and the door was thrown wide open. The delegation entered, preceded by their headman. There — were ten of them, strapping of form, naked except for a loincloth girded about their waists, and on their heads wreaths of leaves. Together they prostrated themselves on the ground and crawled forward until they reached the threshold of the throne where they kissed the ground in front of Pharaoh. The king held out his staff to them and each man put his lips to it in submission. The king granted them permission to stand and they rose to their feet in awe, whereupon their leader said in the Egyptian tongue, “Sacred Lord, Pharaoh of Egypt, Deity of the Tribes, we have come to your abode that we might offer to you the manifestations of humiliation and subjugation, and to give praise for the favor and blessings you have bestowed upon us, for thanks to your mercy, we have eaten delicious food and we have drunk sweet and fragrant water.”

Pharaoh raised his hand in benediction.

All faces were turned to him, willing him to ask them some news of their land. “From which clans are you?” asked the vanquished king.

“O Sacred Splendor,” said the man, “we are chieftains of the Maasayu tribes who pray for your splendor and glory.”

The king was silent awhile, and declined to ask them anything about their followers. He had had enough of the place and those in it and said, “Pharaoh thanks you, loyal and faithful slaves, and blesses you.”

He extended his staff and they kissed it once again. Then they retraced their steps, their forms bent double so that their foreheads almost touched the floor.

Anger flared up in Pharaoh's breast, and he sensed a painful realization in his heart that the clergy arrayed before him had struck him a mortal blow in some arcane battle that only he and they could comprehend. His wrath welled up inside him and his rage overflowed as he fumed at his defeat and said in a peremptory tone, “I have here an epistle whose veracity is unassailed by doubt, and whether the rebellious tribes pay homage to these men or not, one thing remains certain: there is a revolt, there are insurgents, and our troops are surrounded.”

The governors’ enthusiasm returned unabated, and the governor of Thebes said, “My lord, it is divine wisdom that flows upon your tongue. Our brethren await reinforcements. We should not waste our time in discussion when the truth is staring us in the face.”

“Governors,” said the king vehemently, “I exempt you this day from participating in the celebration of the Nile festival, for before you lies a more sublime duty. Return to your provinces and muster men-at-arms, for every minute that is lost shall cost us dear.”

With these words the king rose to his feet, thereby indicating the termination of the assembly. All rose at once and bowed their heads in reverence.

The shout in the crowd