Three Novels of Ancient Egypt

Anxious and troubled — with all kinds of disturbing thoughts, she despaired of ever finding sleep. She rose from her bed once again, — walked slowly over to the window, and throwing it wide open, stood there like a statue. She undid the clasp that held her hair and it flowed in shimmering tresses over her neck and shoulders, touching the whiteness of her gown with a deep black. She breathed the damp night air into her lungs and put her elbows onto the window ledge, resting her chin in the palms of her hands. Her eyes wandered over the garden to the Nile flowing beyond the walls. It was a mild dark night, a gentle intermittent breeze was blowing and the leaves and branches danced discreetly. The Nile could be seen in the distance like a patch of blackness and the sky was adorned with shining stars that emitted a pale radiance that almost drowned in seas of darkness just as it reached the earth.

Would the dark night and the overwhelming silence be able to cast a shade of stillness and relief over her troubled mind? Alas, she felt as if her mind would never be at rest again. She fetched a pillow and placed it on the window sill and laid her right cheek upon it and closed her eyes.

Suddenly the words of Hof, the philosopher, came back to her: “Everyone complains, so what is the use of hoping for change? Be content with your lot.” She sighed from the depths of her heart, and asked herself dolefully, “Is there really no use hoping for change? Will people always complain?” But how was she to believe this so completely that it would sway her own heart from desiring change? A storm of defiance was brewing in her breast. She wanted it to sweep away her present and her past and she would escape to find salvation in lands mysterious and unknown beyond the horizon. How would she ever find conviction and peace of mind? She was dreaming of a state where there would be no need to grieve, but she was apprehensive, weary of all things.

She was not to be left to her thoughts and dreams though, for she heard a gentle knock on the door of her chamber. She pricked up her ears in surprise and lifted her head off the pillow.

“Who is it?” she called.

“It is I, my lady,” replied a familiar voice. “May I enter?”

“Come in Shayth,” said Rhadopis.

The slave girl came in on the tips of her toes. She was surprised to find her mistress still up, and her bed unslept in.

“What is it, Shayth?” Rhadopis inquired.

“A man is here who awaits permission to enter.”

Rhadopis frowned and could barely conceal her anger. “What man? Throw him out without delay.”

“How, my lady? He is a man the door of this palace is never closed to.”

“Tahu?”

“Yes, it is he.”

“And what has brought him at this late hour of the night?”

A mischievous glint flashed in the woman's eye. “That you will know soon enough, my lady.”

With a wave of her hand, Rhadopis signaled her to call him, and the slave girl disappeared. A moment later the commander's tall, broad figure filled the doorway. He greeted her with a bow then stood before her, looking at her face in confusion. She could not help noticing his pale color and furrowed brow, and the darkness in his eyes. She ignored him and walked over to the divan and sat down. “You look tired. Is your work wearing you out?” she asked him.

He shook his head. “No,” he said curtly.

“You do not look your usual self.”

“Is that so?”

“You must know that. What is the matter with you?”

He knew everything, no doubt about it, and she would know in a moment, whether he told her himself or not. He was wary of being so audacious as to speak, because he was risking his happiness and he was afraid she would slip through his hands and be lost to him forever. If he were able to prevail over her will, everything would be so easy, but he had almost given up hope ofthat, and was tormented by pangs of anguish.

“Ah, Rhadopis! If only you felt for me the love I feel for you, then I could beseech you in the name of our love.”

She wondered why he needed to beseech. She had always considered him an aggressive man who detested beseeching and pleading. He had always been satisfied with the charm and enticement of her body. What was it that had upset him? She lowered her eyes. “It is the same old talk as before.”

Her words, though they were true, still angered him. “I know that,” he shouted. “But I am repeating it for reasons of the present. Ah, your heart is like an empty cavern at the bottom of an icy river.”

She was familiar with such comparisons, but her words twitched nervously as she spoke. “Have I ever refused to give you what you wanted?”