Three Novels of Ancient Egypt

The architect stood up before his master on the throne, his face beaming with joy, saying: “My lord, the granter of life and the source of light, my loyalty to your Sublime Self has permitted me to accomplish my majestic task, and to crown my service to you with this immortal monument. I now obtain in one happy hour what the man of faith wishes for with his belief, and what the artist wishes from his art. For the gods, upon whom each created being is dependent, have willed that I inform Your Adored Eminence of the good news that the mightiest construction ever undertaken in the land of the Nile since the age of creation, and the largest building on which the sun has risen in Egypt since the first time it rose over the valley, is now finished. I am certain, sire, that it will remain standing throughout the continuous generations to come, bearing your holy name, attesting to your magnificent epoch, preserving your divine spirit. It will proclaim the struggle of millions of Egyptian working hands, and scores of eminent minds. Today, for this work there is no peer, — while tomorrow it — will be the place of rest for the most glorious soul ever to rule over the land of Egypt. And after tomorrow — and for eternity — it will be the temple within whose expanse beat the hearts of millions of your worshippers, who will make their way to it both from North and South.”

The timeless artist fell silent for a moment — then the king's smile encouraged him to continue.

“We celebrate today, my lord,” he said, “Egypt's eternal emblem, and its truthful epithet, born of the strength that binds her North with her South. It is the offspring of the patience that overflows in all her children, from the tiller of the earth with his hoe, to the scribe with his sheet of papyrus. It is the inspiration for the faith that beats in the hearts of her people. It is the exemplar of the genius that has made our homeland sovereign over the earth, around which the sun floats in its sacred boat. And it shall remain forever the deathless revelation that settles in the hearts of the Egyptians — granting them strength, instilling them with patience, inspiring them with faith, and driving them to create.”

The king listened to the architect with a smile of delight, his piercing eyes glistening, his face bursting with ecstatic enthusiasm. When Mirabu was finished, Pharaoh said, “I congratulate you, O Architect, on your unequaled brilliance. And I thank you for the magnificent work that speaks so highly of your king and country — for which we owe you appreciation and praise. We shall fete your mighty miracle with an awesome celebration — one fit for its immortal grandeur.”

Mirabu bowed his head as he listened to Khufu's encomium, as he would to a divine hymn.

And hence, to inaugurate his awesome monument, Pharaoh held an official, popular ceremony, of stupendous proportions — during which the holy plateau beheld twice as many human beings as it had rugged laborers. Yet this time they did not bring with them hoes and other tools — rather, they carried banners, olive branches, palm fronds, and sprigs of sweet basil, as they sang the righteous sacred anthems. Among these throngs, the soldiers made a great thoroughfare that extended from the Valley of Eternity eastward, after which it circled around the pyramid — before ascending westward until it flowed once again into the valley. Along this road marched the bands of dignitaries as they circumambulated the gargantuan construction in procession. At their forefront — were groups of priests from their various orders, followed by the nobles and the local chieftains. Then the troops of the army stationed in Memphis, both on horse and on foot, cut their way through the crowds. But after these, all eyes were drawn to Khufu and the princes: the worshipful masses swiveled their heads as the royal retinue passed, cheering their king from the depths of their hearts. As they did so, they seemed to lean forward as one, all in the same direction, as though assembled in prayer.

Pharaoh hailed the pyramid with a brief speech, then the vizier Hemiunu consecrated it with a blessing. This concluded, the king's cortege set off back to Memphis, and the high-level groups began to break up. As for the crowds of the common people, they kept circling the immense building in jubilation. Their ranks did not dissolve until the dawn poured down its splendor, its magical calm spreading over the green, gemlike surface of the valley.

That evening, Pharaoh invited the princes and his closest companions to the private wing of his palace. As the weather was turning cool, he met them in his grand salon, where they reposed upon chairs made of pure gold.