Three Novels of Ancient Egypt

Soldiers lined the edges of the great road, lances at the ready. At equal distances apart, life-size statues of the kings of the Sixth Dynasty had been erected, Pharaoh's father and forefathers. Those nearest to the front could see the pharaohs: Userkara, Teti I, Pepi I, Mohtemsawef I, and Pepi II.

The clamor of voices filled the air, each one impossible to distinguish, like the waves on a raging ocean, leaving no trace except an awesome, all-encompassing uproar. Now and then, however, an especially powerful voice would stand out, crying: “Glory be to Sothis who has brought us glad tidings!” or “Glory be to the sacred Nile god who brings life and fertility to our land!” And here and there voices requested the wines of Maryut and the meads of Abu, calling for merriment and forgetfulness.

One group of spectators stood together, chatting earnestly among themselves, indications of affluence and nobility showing upon their faces. One of them raised his eyebrows in wonder and contemplation, and said, “How many pharaohs have looked down upon this multitude and beheld this great day? Then they all passed away as if they had never existed, and yet in their day, how those pharaohs filled the eyes and hearts of their people.”

“Yes,” said another. “They have gone, just as we all will go, and there they will rule a world more glorious than this one. Look at the position I hold. How many will hold it in future generations, and relive the hopes and joys that flutter in our breasts at this moment? I wonder if they will talk about us as we are talking about them?”

“Surely there must be more to us than a simple mention by future generations? If only there was no death.”

“Could this valley ever be wide enough to accommodate all those generations that have passed away? Death is as natural as life. What is the value of eternity as long as we eat our fill after going hungry, grow old after being young, and know despair after joy?”

“How do you think they live in the world of Osiris?”

“Wait, and you will know soon enough.”

Another one said, “This is the first time the gods have granted me the pleasure of seeing Pharaoh.”

“I have seen him before,” his friend remarked, “on the day of the great coronation, some months ago in this very spot.”

“Look at the statues of his mighty ancestors.”

“You'll see that he greatly resembles his grandfather Mohtemsawef I.”

“How handsome he is!”

“Indeed, indeed. Pharaoh is a beautiful young man. There is none like him in his imposing height and his unmistakable comeliness.”

“I wonder what legacy he will bequeath?” asked one of the group. “Will it be obelisks and temples, or memories of conquest in the north and south?”

“If my intuition serves me right I suspect it will be the latter.”

“Why?”

“He is a most courageous young man.”

The other shook his head cautiously: “It is said that his youth is headstrong, and that His Majesty is possessed of violent whims, is fond of romance, enjoys extravagance and luxury, and is as rash and impetuous as a raging storm.”

The one listening laughed quietly and whispered, “And what is so surprising about that? Are not most Egyptians fond of romance and enjoy extravagance and luxury? Why should Pharaoh be any different?”

“Lower your voice, man. You know nothing about the matter. Did you not know that he clashed with the men of the priesthood from the first day he ascended to the throne? He wants money to spend on constructing palaces and planting gardens while the priests are demanding the allotted share of the gods and the temples in full. The young king's predecessors bestowed influence and wealth upon the priesthood, but he eyes it all greedily.”

“It is truly regrettable that the king should begin his reign in confrontation.”

“Indeed. And do not forget that Khnumhotep, the prime minister and high priest, is a man of iron will and most intractable. And then there is the high priest of Memphis, that illustrious city whose shining star has begun to wane under the rule of this glorious dynasty.”

The man was alarmed at the news, which had not found his ears before, and he said, “Then let us pray that the gods will grant men wisdom, patience, and forethought.”

“Amen, amen,” said the others with heartfelt sincerity.

One of the spectators turned toward the Nile and prodded his companion in the elbow, saying, “Look at the river, my friend. Whose beautiful boat is that coming from the island of Biga? It is like the sun rising over the eastern horizon.”

His friend craned his neck to see the river and saw a wonderful barge, not one of the large ones, but neither too small, green in color like a verdant island floating on the water. From a distance, its cabin seemed high, though it was not possible to make out who was inside. At the top of its mast was a huge billowing sail and the oars on either side moved in solemn harmony, pulled by hundreds of arms.

The man — wondered for a moment, then said, “Perhaps it belongs to one of the — wealthy men of Biga.”