Three Novels of Ancient Egypt

Officer Sennefer came into Djedef's tent, saluting him — with respect. “A messenger from His Pharaonic Highness Prince Khafra has come,” he said, “seeking leave to enter upon you.”

“Bid him do so,” said Djedef, his interest aroused.

Sennefer disappeared for a moment, then returned with the messenger before again exiting the tent. The messenger wore a priest's ample robe that covered his body from his shoulders to his ankles. On his head was a black cowl, while his thick beard flowed down to the hollow of his chest. Djedef was amazed at the sight of him, because he had expected to encounter a familiar face, one of those that he regularly saw in the crown prince's palace. And then he heard a voice that, despite its faintness, he imagined he was not hearing for the first time.

“I have come, Your Excellency, about a serious matter,” said the messenger. “Therefore, I hope that you will order the curtain to be drawn over the doorway, and that you will forbid anyone from entering without your permission.”

Djedef stared at the priest with a searching look, pervaded by hesitation. But then he shrugged his massive shoulders dismissively, as though taking the matter lightly. He called out to Sennefer, ordering him to draw shut the flap over the tent's entrance, adding that no person should be permitted to approach it. Sennefer carried out Djedef's commands, and when he departed, Djedef looked at the messenger.

“Give me what you have,” he demanded.

When the messenger was sure that they were alone in the tent, he lifted the black cowl from his head. Luxuriant black hair cascaded from under it, the locks falling over his shoulders in a flurry, painting a halo around a marvelous head. Then the messenger's hand reached toward his beard and pulled it off with a refined twist, as he opened his eyes that had been deliberately narrowed. A radiant face appeared, beaming a light through the air of the tent, along with the first rays that the sun sent forth over the desert's vastness outside.

Djedef ‘s heart flew about in his breast, as he exclaimed with a tremulous voice, “My Mistress, Meresankh!”

He rushed toward her like a panicked bird, and knelt at her feet, kissing the fringes of her loose-fitting robe. The princess fixed her gaze in front of her with a timid, bashful expression, while her lissome body trembled. All the while, she felt the young man's hot breath flowing through the fabric of her trousers, blowing upon her perfumed thighs. Then she stroked his head with her fingertips and whispered softly, ‘Arise,” and the young man stood up, his eyes flashing with a joyful, delighted light.

“Is this real, My Mistress? Is it true what I hear? And what I see?” he stammered.

She gazed upon him with a look of surrender as though saying to him, “You have overcome me totally, so I have come to you.”

“The gods of joy are singing all at once within me at this moment. Their songs have accompanied me through these months of torment and their sleepless nights. Their melodies have cleansed my heart of the bitterness of distress and shadows of despair. O Lord! Who would say that I'm the one whom yesterday life had scorned?”

The emotion showed on her face as she said in a shaking voice, like the cooing of a dove, “Did life truly treat you with scorn?”

As his eyes devoured the lips from which her speech had issued, he replied, “Yes, it treated me harshly, and I actually wished for death. The soul who craves death is that which has lost hope. I've never been a coward, My Mistress, so I remained loyal to my duty. Yet the sense of futile triviality tortured me.”

Then he added, “This and the melancholy weighed heavily upon me, and my eyes — were veiled with gloom.”

She sighed and rejoined, “I was fighting my pride, struggling with myself, for it tormented me always.”

“How cruel you were to me!”

“I was even cruder to myself,” she said. “I remember that day on the bank of the Nile. That day a strange unease kept filling my heart. Later I learned that my heart was fated to awake through your voice from its deep slumber. This fact, I discovered, left me split between the thrill of adventure and the fear of the unknown. Then I remembered your nobility and your self-confidence, so I rebelled. And whenever I cast my eyes upon you, I was harsh with myself, and with you, as well.”

Then he sighed, and said with yearning, “How I suffered for my vain delusions! Do you remember our second meeting, in His Majesty's palace? You scolded me violently and rebuked me severely. Just yesterday you wouldn't hear out my grievance, and left me without a word of goodbye. Do you know how much agony and pain I have endured? Alas! If only I had known what was to come! My most desolate times would have been my happiest. I pleaded to the gods over my torment. How they must have laughed at my ignorance!”

“And the gods witnessed my arrogance and were amused by my contempt,” she said, smiling. “Have you ever seen such a farce as ours before?”