Three Novels of Ancient Egypt

The three men relapsed for a while into silence and nothing was to be heard but the slap of the oars on the surface of the water. Then one of them happened to notice a fishing boat in whose waist stood a young man with sinewy forearms, wearing nothing but a kilt at his waist, his skin burned by the sun. In amazement he said, “These southerners look as though they had sprung from their own soil!”

“Wonder not!” the chamberlain responded sarcastically, ‘ ‘Some of their poets even sing the beauties of a dark complexion!

“Indeed! Next to ours, their coloring is like mud next to the glorious rays of the sun.”

The chamberlain replied, “One of our men was telling me about these southerners and he said, ‘Despite their color and their nakedness, they are full of conceit and pride. They claim they are descended from the loins of the gods and that their country is the wellspring of the true pharaohs.’ Dear God! I know the cure for all that. All it will take is for us to reach out our arm to the borders of their country.”

No sooner had the chamberlain ceased speaking than he heard one of his men saying, pointing to the east, “Look! Can that be Thebes? It is Thebes!”

They all looked where the man was pointing and beheld a large city surrounded by a great wall, behind which the heads of the obelisks soared like pillars supporting the celestial vault. On its northern side, the towering — walls of the temple of Amun, Divine Lord of the South, could be seen, appearing to the eye like a mighty giant climbing toward the sky. The men were shaken and the high chamberlain knitted his brows and muttered, “Yes. That is Thebes. I have been granted a sight of it before and time has only increased my desire that it submit to our lord the king and that I see his victory procession making its way through its streets.”

One of the men added, “And that our god Seth be worshipped there.”

The ship slowed and proceeded little by little to draw in to the shore, passing luxuriant gardens whose lush terraces descended to drink from the sacred river. Behind them, proud palaces could be seen, while to the west of the farther shore crouched the City of Eternity, where the immortals slept in pyramids, mastabas, and graves, all enveloped in the forlornness of death.

The ship turned toward the port of Thebes, making its way among the fishing smacks and traders’ ships, its size and beauty, and the image of the lotus that embellished its prow, attracting all eyes. Finally, it drew up alongside the quay and threw down its huge anchor. Guards approached and an officer, wearing a jacket of white linen above his kilt, was brought out to it. He asked one of the crew, “Where is this ship coming from? And is it carrying goods for trade?”

The man greeted him, said, “Follow me!” and accompanied him to the cabin, where the officer found himself standing before a high chamberlain of the Northern Palace — the palace of the King of the Herdsmen, as they called him in the South. He bowed respectfully and presented a military salute. With patent arrogance, the chamberlain raised his hand to return the salute and said, in condescending tones, “I am the envoy of Our Master Apophis, Pharaoh, King of the North and the South, Son of Lord Seth, and I am sent to the governor of Thebes, Prince Seqenenra, to convey to him the proclamation that I bear.”

The officer listened to the envoy attentively, saluted once more, and left.

2

An hour passed. Then a man of great dignity, somewhat short and lean, — with a prominent brow, arrived at the ship. Bowing with dignity to the envoy, he said in a quiet voice, “He who has the honor of receiving you is Hur, chamberlain of the Southern Palace.”

The other inclined his stately head and said in his rough voice, “And I am Khayan, high chamberlain of the Palace of the Pharaoh.”

Hur said, “Our master will be happy to receive you immediately.”