Three Novels of Ancient Egypt

And if he were summoned to appear before Pharaoh because of his position, his criers spread the news everywhere that his influence reached, so the people of his house, big and small, as well as his friends and subordinates would hear of it. Nor was that enough, for he would tell Nafa, Kheny, and Djedef, “Go broadcast the glorious news among your brothers, and let you little ones compete in telling of the honor that your father has attained by his loyal work and high talent.” Yet he remained the good-hearted man he had always been — loath to cause anyone harm, and whose anger never went beyond the tip of his tongue.

Zaya had now turned forty, yet the years showed little upon her. She kept her beauty and her freshness, — while becoming a highly respected lady, thanks to her deep-rooted virtues. Indeed, — whoever saw her living in Bisharu's palace would not imagine that she could ever have been the wife of Karda the laborer, and servant of the Lady Ruddjedet. She not only wrapped the memories of the past in the shrouds of forgetfulness, she forbade her memory from ever approaching that history enfolded in time. She wanted only to savor the main reason for her happiness — her motherhood of Djedef. In truth, she loved him as though she had actually borne him for nine months within her, and it was her dearest hope to see him grow to be a noble, contented man.

At that time, Kheny had passed through the longest phase of his advanced training; only three years remained for him to master his specialty. Since by nature he tended toward study and deep immersion in the secrets of the universe, he chose theology and the path that led to the priesthood. The matter was not entirely of his own choice — for the priesthood was a forbidding discipline whose doors are barred to all but those who merit it. He would first have to complete his final studies, then endure tests and trying duties for several years in one of the temples. But Kheny the student was received sympathetically when he showed both acute intelligence and noble ethics in his scholarly life, as though he inherited from his father only his gruff, raucous voice. Slender and sharp-featured, of a calm demeanor, his traits called more to mind his mother, who was marked with godliness and piety.

In that, he was the exact opposite of his brother Nafa, who had his father's heavyset figure, full face, and his many-layered character. Gentle and easygoing, to his good fortune his features had emerged finer than Bisharu's thick and coarse ones. Finishing his studies, he was a certified master of painting and drawing, and — with his father's assistance — he rented a small house on the street named after King Sneferu, the most important commercial road in Memphis. This became his studio, where he made and displayed his artistic creations, and composed a sign in immaculate hieroglyphs that he hung outside, which read: “Nafa, son of Bisharu, Graduate of the Khufu School of Fine Arts.” He continued to work and dream, patiently awaiting the crowds of buyers and admirers.

Nor — was Gamurka spared the effects of time, for as he grew large, his long black coat became short. His face looked tough and strong, and his fangs warned of cruelty and the infliction of pain. His voice turned rough and gravelly; when he barked it echoed so fiercely that it spread terror in the hearts of cats, foxes, and jackals alike, announcing to all that the protector of the inspector's house was on guard. But for all his size and raw vitality, he was gentler than the breeze with his dear companion Djedef, with whom the ties of affection grew closer and closer with each passing day. When the boy called him, he came; when he gave him a command, he obeyed; and if he scolded him, he cowered and quieted down. He and Djedef also exchanged confidential messages by means other than language — for Gamurka would know when Djedef was approaching the house through a hidden sense, and would rush up to meet him when he saw him. The dog grasped what was inside the boy with a rare, amazing power that sometimes even the people closest to him lacked. He knew when he was ready for fun: he would kiss him playfully, jumping up to lay both his forepaws on the youth's loincloth. He also knew his master's moments of fatigue or annoyance: then he would lie silently between Djedef's feet, and content himself with wagging his tail.