Three Novels of Ancient Egypt

“Never, Rhadopis. You have granted me your enchanting body, which was created to torment mankind. But I have always yearned for your heart. What a heart it is, Rhadopis. It stands firm and steadfast amidst the stormy tempests of passion as if it does not belong to you. How often I have asked myself in confusion and exasperation, what faults do mar me? Is it that I am not a man? Nay, for I am the very paragon of manhood. The truth is that you do not have a heart.”

She wanted nothing to do with him. It was not the first time she had heard these words, but normally he spoke them with sarcasm or some mild anger. Now, at this late hour of the night, he was speaking with a shaking voice full of fury and resentment. What could have inflamed him so? To elicit an explanation she asked him, “Have you come at this late hour of the night, Tahu, to simply repeat these words in my ears?”

“No, I have not come for the sake of these words. I have come for a far more serious matter, and if love fails to help me in its regard, then let your freedom assist me, for it seems you are keen to hold on to that.”

She looked at him curiously, and waited for him to speak. He could stand the tension no longer and, determined to get to the point without further delay, he addressed her quietly and firmly as he looked straight into her eyes. “You should leave the palace of Biga, and escape from the island as soon as possible, before dawn breaks.”

Rhadopis was stunned. She looked at him with disbelief in her eyes. “What are you saying, Tahu?”

“I am saying that you should disappear, or else you will lose your freedom.”

“And what threatens my freedom on Biga?”

He ground his teeth, and then asked her, “Have you not lost something valuable?”

“Why yes. I lost one of the golden sandals you gave to me.”

“How?”

“A falcon snatched it away while I was bathing in the garden pool. But I do not understand what a lost sandal has to do with my threatened freedom.”

“Slowly, Rhadopis. The falcon carried it off, that is true, but do you know where it landed?”

She could tell from the way he spoke that he knew the answer. She was astonished. “How should I know that, Tahu?” she muttered.

He sighed, “It landed in Pharaoh's lap.”

His words echoed ominously in her ears and pervaded all her senses. All else faded from her mind. She looked at Tahu with confusion in her eyes, unable to utter a sound. The commander scrutinized her face with nervous and suspicious eyes. He wondered how she had taken the news, and what feelings surged in her breast. He could not contain himself and asked her softly, “Was I not right in my request?”

She did not reply. She did not seem to be listening to him. She was drowning in a storm of confusion and the waves crashed against her heart. Her stillness filled him with fear, and her confusion was almost too much for him to bear, for he read into it meanings that his heart refused to acknowledge. At length his patience ran out and his anger put him on the defensive. His eyes narrowed as he roared at her, “Which valley are you lost in now, woman? Does this terrible news not alarm you?”

Her body trembled at the power in his voice, and anger blazed in her heart. She glared at him with hatred in her eyes, but she suppressed her rage, for she was going to get her own — way. “Is that how you see it?” she asked him coldly.

“I see that you are pretending not to understand what this means, Rhadopis.”

“How unjust you are. What does it matter if the sandal landed in Pharaoh's lap. Do you think he will kill me for it?”

“Of course not. But he held the sandal in his hands and asked who the owner might be.”

Rhadopis felt a flutter in her heart. “Did he receive an answer?” she asked.

Tahu's eyes misted over. “There was a person there waiting for a chance to confound me,” he said. “The Fates have made him friend and foe at one and the same time. He snatched the opportunity and stabbed me in the back, for he mentioned your enchanting beauty to Pharaoh, sowing the seed of desire in his heart and igniting passion in his breast.”

“Sofkhatep?”

“The very same, that enemy-friend. He stirred temptation in the young king's heart.”

“And what does the king want to do?”

Tahu crossed his arms over his chest, and spoke loudly, “Pharaoh is not a person who just desires a thing when it is dear to him. If he loves something, he knows how to take it for himself.”

Silence fell once again, the woman falling prey to burning emotions while the nightmare settled in the man's breast. His anger grew at her reticence, and because she was not alarmed or afraid.

“Do you not see that this threatens to curtail your freedom?” he said furiously. “Your freedom, Rhadopis, which you are so eager to preserve, and care about so much. Your freedom, which has destroyed hearts and devastated so many souls, and which has made anguish, grief, and despair plagues that have smitten every man on Biga. Why are you not afraid to stay here and lose it?”