Three Novels of Ancient Egypt

Both men scrutinized the face of the king in an effort to fathom his inner thoughts and ascertain the policy he would advise them to follow in regard to the priests. They had heard the audacious cry, which had been considered by all and sundry a threat to Pharaoh's authority. They had expected it to provoke a severe reaction in the young king, and when they learned that he had asked his prime minister to stay behind after the meeting, they were both filled with apprehension. Sofkhatep was worried about the consequences of the king's anger, for he always advised caution and patience and believed that the problem of the temple lands should be dealt with equitably. Tahu, on the other hand, was hoping that the king's anger would lead him to side with his own opinion and order the seizure of the temple properties, thus giving the priests a final warning.

The two loyal men looked into their lord's face in hope, yet enduring painful unease. But Pharaoh kept a tight rein on his emotions, and studied them — with an expression like the Sphinx. He knew — what discomfiting thoughts — were racing through their minds, and, as though — wishing to torment them a little longer, he sat down on his throne and did not say a word. He motioned them to be seated and the look of serious concern returned to his face.

“Today I have the right to feel anger and pain,” he declared.

The two men understood what he meant, and the bold and insolent cry rang in their ears once again. Sofkhatep raised his hands out of distress and sympathy, and spoke in a trembling voice, “My lord, do not allow yourself to be caught up in pain and anger.”

“It is not fitting that my lord should suffer pain,” echoed Tahu firmly, “while in the kingdom no sword lies idly in its sheath, and there are men who would gladly sacrifice their lives for him. Truly those priests, despite their knowledge and experience, are deviating from the way of good sense. They are acting rashly, and laying themselves open to an onslaught the like of which they will have no power to avert.”

The king lowered his head and looked at the ground beneath his feet. “I am wondering,” he said, “if one of my fathers or forefathers would have been greeted with the cry that greeted me today. Why, I have only been on the throne a matter of months.”

Tahu's eyes shone with a fleeting frightening light. “Force, my lord,” he said with conviction. “Force. Your sacred forefathers were strong men. They exercised their will with a determination as mighty as the mountains and a sword as relentless as fate. Be like them, my lord. Do not procrastinate, and do not engage them with reason and understanding. When you strike them, strike hard and show no quarter. Make the upstart forget who he is and extinguish the leanest hope in his heart.”

Wise old Sofkhatep was unhappy with the words he heard. He mistrusted the zeal of him who had spoken them, and was fearful of the consequences.

“My lord,” he said, “the priesthood is dispersed throughout the kingdom as blood through the body. Among its members are officials and judges, scribes and educators. Their authority over the people is blessed by divine sanction from ancient times. We have no battle forces save the pharaonic guard and the guardians of Bilaq. A forceful strike might bring undesired consequences.”

Tahu believed only in force. “Then what are we supposed to do, wise counselor?” he demanded. “Should we just sit back and wait for our enemy to fall upon us, and thus be rendered contemptible in his eyes?”

“The priests are not Pharaoh's enemies, may the gods forbid that Pharaoh should have any enemies among his people. The priesthood is a loyal and trustworthy institution. All that we can say against them is that their privileges are greater than need dictates. I swear that I have never despaired, not even for a single day, of finding an acceptable compromise that would fulfill my lord's desire and at the same time preserve the rights of the clergy.”

The king was listening to them quietly, a mysterious smile etched upon his broad mouth, and when Sofkhatep finished speaking he gazed at them with mocking eyes and said quietly, “Do not trouble yourselves about the matter, my dear faithful gentlemen. I have already shot my arrow.”