The king turned to Chamberlain Hur and said, “Chamberlain, I wish that these bodies all be preserved and placed in Thebes’ western cemetery. By my life, those worthiest of the earth of Thebes are those who died as martyrs for its sake!”
At this point, the messenger whom the king had sent to his family in Dabod returned and presented his lord with a message. Surprised, the king asked, “Have my family come back to Habu?”
The man replied, “Indeed not, my lord.”
Ahmose spread open the message, which was sent by Tetisheri, and read:
My lord, aided in triumph by the spirit of the Lord Amun and His blessings, may the Lord grant that this letter of mine reach you to whom Thebes has opened its gates so that you might enter at the head of the Army of Deliverance to tend to its wounded and make happy the souls of Seqenenra and Kamose. For ourselves, we shall not leave Dabod. I have thought long about the matter and have found that the best way for us to share with our tormented people in their pain is to remain in our exile where we are now, living the agonies of separation and homesickness until such time as we smash the shackles that bind them and they are relieved of their trials, and we may enter Egypt in security and take part with them in their happiness and peace. Go on your way aided by the Lord's care, liberate the cities, suppress the fortresses, and cleanse the land of Egypt of its enemy, leaving it not one single foothold on its soil. Then summon us and we shall come in safety.
Ahmose raised his head and folded the message, saying discontentedly, “Tetisheri says that she will not enter Egypt until we expel from it the last Herdsman.”
Hur said, “Our Sacred Mother does not want us to cease fighting until we have liberated Egypt.”
The king nodded his head in agreement and Hur asked, “Will my lord not enter Thebes this evening?”
Ahmose said, “I will not, Hur. My army shall enter on its own. As for me, I shall enter it with my family when we have thrown out the Herdsmen. We shall enter it together as we left it, ten years ago.”
“Its people will suffer great disappointment!”
“Tell anyone who asks after me that I pursue the Herdsmen, to throw them beyond our sacred borders; and let those who love me follow me!”
14
The king returned to the royal tent. It had been his intention to issue an order to his commanders telling them to enter the city in their traditional fashion, to the tunes of the military band. However, an army officer came and said, “My Lord, a group of the leaders of the uprising have charged me to ask permission for them to appear before you and offer your High Person gifts chosen from the spoils they took during the uprising.”
Ahmose smiled and asked the officer, “Have you come from the city?”
“Indeed, sir.”
“Have the doors of Amun's temple been opened?”
“By the insurgents, my lord.”
“And why has the Chief Priest not come to greet me?”
“They say, my lord, that he has sworn that he will not leave his retreat so long as there is a single Herdsman in Egypt — who is not either a slave or a captive.”
The king smiled and said, “Good. Call my people.”
The man left the tent and went to the city. He returned followed by large numbers of people walking company by company, each pushing before it its gift. The officer asked permission for the first company to enter and a band of Egyptians, naked but for kilts around their waists, did so, their faces bespeaking hardship and poverty. They were pushing before them some Herdsmen with bared heads, matted beards, and brows stained with grime. The Egyptians prostrated themselves to the king until their foreheads touched the ground. When they raised their faces to him, he saw that their eyes were flooded with tears of happiness and joy. Their leader said, “Lord Ahmose, son of Kamose, son of Seqenenra, Pharaoh of Egypt, its liberator and protector, and the lofty branch ofthat towering tree whose roots were martyred for the sake of Thebes the Glorious, who came to bring us mercy and make amends for our past ill-treatment…”
Ahmose said, smiling, “Welcome, my noble people, whose hopes are my hopes, whose pains spring from the same source as mine, and the color of whose skin is as the color of my skin!”
The faces of the people lit up with a radiant light and their leader now addressed the Herdsmen, saying, “Prostrate yourselves to Pharaoh, you lowest of his slaves!”
The men prostrated themselves without uttering a word. The leader said, “My lord, these Herdsmen are among those who took over estates without right, as though they had inherited them from their forefathers generation after generation. They humiliated the Egyptians, treated them unjustly, and demanded of them the most onerous tasks for the most miserly pittance. They made them prey to poverty, hunger, sickness, and ignorance. When they called to them, they addressed them contemptuously as ‘peasants’ and they pretended that they were granting them a favor by letting them live. These are yesterday's tyrants and today's captives. We have driven them to your High Person as the most abject of your slaves.”
The king smiled and said, “I thank you, my people, for your gift, and I congratulate you on the recovery of your sovereignty and your liberty.”
The men prostrated themselves to their sovereign a second time and left the tent, the soldiers driving the Herdsmen to the captives’ enclosure. Then a second company entered, a man of huge stature with a brilliantly white complexion and torn clothes walking before them. Whips had left clear marks on his back and arms and he fell in exhaustion before the king, to the indifference of his tormentors, who prostrated themselves long before their sovereign. One of them said, “My lord, Pharaoh of Egypt, son of the Lord Amun! This evil man, dressed in the garments of abjection, was the chief of police of Thebes and used to flay our backs with his cruel whip for the most trivial of reasons. The Lord placed him in our possession and we flayed his back with our whips until his skin was in tatters. We have brought him to the king's camp that he be added to his slaves.”
The king dismissed the man, the soldiers took him away, and the king thanked his people for what they had done.
The king gave permission for the third company to enter. They approached him, driving before them a man whom the king recognized as soon as he set eyes upon him. It was Samnut, Judge of Thebes and brother of Khanzar. The king looked at him calmly, while Samnut looked at him in astonishment with anxious, startled, scarce-believing eyes. The men greeted the king and their spokesman said, “To you, Pharaoh, we bring him who yesterday was Judge of Thebes. He swore by justice but meted out only injustice. Now he has been made to drink of injustice, that he may taste that whereof he gave the innocent to drink.”
Ahmose said, addressing his words to the judge, “Samnut, all your life you sat in judgment over the Egyptians; now prepare yourself for them to sit in judgment over you.”
Then he handed him over to his soldiers and thanked his loyal men.
The last company came. It was very excited and boiling over with anger. In its midst was a person whom they had wrapped in a linen covering from head to foot. They saluted the king with cheers, and their spokesman said, “Pharaoh of Egypt and protector and avenger of the Egyptians, we are some of those whose — wives and children the Herdsmen took to use as shields in the battle for Thebes. The Lord wished to avenge us on the tyrant Apophis and we attacked his women's quarters during his retreat, and there we kidnapped one who is dearer to him than his own soul. We have brought her to you that you may revenge yourself on her for what was done to our women.”
The man approached the person hidden in the linen wrap and ripped the covering from her, revealing a woman, naked but for a diaphanous skirt around her waist. She was white, pure as light, and hair like threads of gold floated around her head, while exasperation, fury, and pride showed in her bewitching face. Ahmose turned pale. He gazed at her and she at him. Then confusion appeared on his face, and on hers an astonishment that wiped away the exasperation, fury, and pride. He murmured in an inaudible voice, still shocked, “Princess
Amenridis!”
Hur took off his cloak, went up to the woman, and threw it over her. Ahmose shouted at his men, “Why have you maltreated this woman?”
The leader of the group said, “She is the daughter of the great murderer Apophis.”
Ahmose awoke to the delicacy of his situation among these angry people thirsting for revenge and he said, “Do not allow anger to corrupt your sacred ways. The truly virtuous man is he who holds fast to his virtue when passion erupts and anger flares. You are a people that respect women and do not kill captives.”
One of them, who had lost a relative but still not tasted revenge, said, “Protector of Egypt, our rage will be appeased when we send the head of this woman to Apophis.”
Ahmose said, “Are you urging your sovereign to be like Apophis, a shedder of innocent blood and a killer of women? Leave the matter to me and leave in peace.”
The people prostrated themselves to Pharaoh and left. The king called an officer of his guard and ordered him in a low voice to take the princess to his royal ship and guard her closely.
The king was experiencing a tempest in his heart and soul. Unable to remain idle, he issued an order to his commanders to make a triumphal victory entrance into Thebes at the head of the army. When he turned to Hur, he found that he was staring at him with startled, puzzled, pitying eyes.
15
The field emptied and the king made his way toward the Nile followed by his guards. He urged the drivers of his chariot to hurry and plunged into his private dreams and thoughts. What a shock his heart had been subjected to today! What a surprise he had endured! It had never occurred to him that he might meet Amenridis again. He had despaired of ever seeing her and she had become for him a dream that had illumined his night for a brief moment, then been swallowed by the darkness. Then he had seen her again, unexpectedly and without design. The fates had thrown her on his mercy and put her all of a sudden under his control. In such a state of ferment was his breast, so hard was his heart beating, and so heated were the emotions that had been awoken in him, that sweet memories were brought back to life and he surrendered himself to their tender current, forgetful of all else.
But she, could it be that she had recognized him? And if she had not, did she still remember the happy trader Isfmis, whose life she had rescued from a certain death and to whom she had said, with beating heart and welling tears, “Till we meet again!”? And whom she had yearned for in his exile and to whom she had sent a message in whose lines she had hidden her love as fire is hidden in the flint? Did her heart still beat as it had the first time in the cabin of the royal vessel? Dear God! How was it that he felt that he was approaching a boundless happiness? Should he trust his heart or suspect it? The king thought of her wretched appearance when the insurgents had thrust her toward him. His strong body trembled and a shudder ran through it. He asked himself sadly — as he thought of her with the angry people around her spitting on her, abusing her, and insulting her father, and remembered the anger, fury, and pride that had shown in her face — would her anger abate if she knew that she was the prisoner of Isfmis? He felt an anxiety that had never assailed him in the most trying of circumstances. His cavalcade having reached the shore, he descended and went to the royal vessel, where he summoned the officer to whom he had entrusted her and asked him, “How is the princess?”
“She has been put, my lord, in a private chamber and brought new clothes. Food has been offered her, but she refuses to touch it and she treated the soldiers with contempt and called them slaves. Nevertheless, she has been given the best treatment, as Your Majesty commanded.”
The king looked uneasy and went with quiet steps to the chamber. A guard opened the door, closing it after the king had entered. The chamber was small and elegant, lit by a large lamp suspended from the ceiling. To the right of the entrance the princess, in simple clothes of linen, sat on a luxuriously upholstered couch. She had combed her hair, which the insurgents had disarranged, and let it fall in a large plait. He looked at her, smiled, and found that she was looking at him in astonishment and disbelief, seemingly confused and mistrustful, as though she could not believe her eyes. He greeted her, saying, “Good evening, Princess.”
She did not answer him but, on hearing his voice, seemed to become yet more confused and mistrustful. The youth held her in a long look of love and infatuation, then asked her, “Do you lack anything?”
She looked closely at his face, raised her eyes to his helmet and lowered them to his armor, and asked him, “Who are you?”
“I am called Ahmose, Pharaoh of Egypt.”
Distaste appeared in her eyes. He wanted to confuse her yet more, so he took off his helmet and placed it on a table, telling himself that she would not be able to believe her eyes. He saw her looking at his curly hair in disbelief. As though it was he who was startled, he said to her, “Why do you look at me thus, as though you knew someone who resembled me?”
She did not know what to say and made no reply. He longed to hear her voice and feel her tenderness, so he said to her, “Suppose I told you my name was Isfmis, would you answer me?”
No sooner did she hear the name Isfmis than she stood up and shouted at him, “So you are Isfmis!”
He took a step toward her, looked at her tenderly, and grasped her — wrist, saying, “I am Isfinis, Princess Amenridis.”
She tore her wrist away and said, “I understand nothing.”
Ahmose smiled and said gently, “What do names matter? Yesterday I was called Isfinis and today I am called Ahmose, but I am one person and one heart.”
“How strange! How can you say that you are one person? You were a trader who sold trinkets and pygmies and now you fight and wear the clothes of a king.”
“And — why not? Before, I — was prying around Thebes in disguise, and now I lead my people to liberate my country and reclaim my stolen throne.”
She gave him a long look, — whose meaning he could not fathom, and he tried to approach her once again but she repelled him — with a gesture of her hand and her features hardened, harshness and pride appearing in her eyes. He felt disappointment and rejection overwhelm his hopes and murder the nightingales of anticipation that sung in his breast. He heard her saying vehemently, “Keep away from me!”
He entreated her, saying, “Don't you remember…?”
But, the anger for which her people were famous taking control of her, she cut him short before he could finish, saying, “I remember and I shall always remember that you are a common spy.”
The terrible shock made him grimace and he said angrily, “Princess, are you not aware that you are speaking to a king?”
“What king, fellow?”
Anger getting the better of him, he said vehemently, “The Pharaoh of Egypt.”
Contemptuously she replied, “And my father would be one of your agents, then?”
The king's anger grew and his pride overwhelmed all other feelings. He said, “Your father is not worthy to be one of my agents. He is the usurper of my country's throne and I have defeated him utterly and made him flee from the northern gates of Thebes, leaving his daughter to fall captive to the people whom he mistreated. I shall follow him with my armies until he takes refuge in the deserts that spat him out into our valley. Are you not aware of this? As for me, I am the lawful king of this valley because I am of the line of the pharaohs of glorious Thebes and because I am a victorious general who is reclaiming his country by strength and by skill.”
Coldly and sarcastically she replied, “Are you proud to be a king whose people excel at fighting women?”
'Amazing! Do you not know that you are indebted to those people of mine for your life? You were at their mercy and if they had killed you, they would not have violated the code that your father established when he exposed women and children to the arrows of the foe.”
“And do you place me on an equal footing with those women?”
“Why not?”
“Pardon, King. I cannot bring myself to im
agine that I am like one of your women or that any of my people are like any of yours, unless masters are like slaves. Do you not know that our army felt nothing of the humiliation of defeat when they quit Thebes, but said, in derision, ‘Our slaves have revolted and we shall come back and deal with them'?”
The king lost his temper completely and shouted at her, “Who are the slaves and who the masters? You understand nothing, conceited girl! You were born in the bosom of this valley that inspires men to glory and honor, but had you been born a century earlier you would have been born in the most savage deserts of the cold north and never heard anyone call you ‘princess’ or your father ‘king.’ From those deserts came your people, usurping the sovereignty of our valley and turning its great men into serfs. Then, in their ignorance and conceit, they said that they were princes and we were peasants and slaves, that they were white and we were brown. Today, justice has returned, and will restore the master to his proper place while the slave will be turned back into a slave. Whiteness will become the badge of those who roam the cold deserts and brownness the emblem of the masters of Egypt, who have been cleansed by the light of the sun. This is the indisputable truth.”
Rage now blazed in the princess's heart and the blood rushed to her face. Contemptuously she said, “I know that my forefathers descended onto Egypt from the northern deserts, but how has it escaped you that they were lords of those deserts before they became, by their strength, masters of this valley? They were already masters, people of pride and dignity, who knew no path to their goal but the sword and did not disguise themselves in the clothes of traders so that today they might attack those to whom only yesterday they had prostrated themselves.”
Three Novels of Ancient Egypt Page 59