Three Novels of Ancient Egypt Khufu's Wisdom

by Naguib Mahfouz

  She looked up at him with eyes that still held their astonishment and seemed not to know what to reply. The king did not wait long but said in a quiet voice and an inexpressive tone, “Today you are released, Princess.”

  Her face indicated that she had understood nothing, so he said again, “Do you not hear what I say? Today you are released, free. Your captivity is at an end, Princess, and you have a right to go free.”

  Her astonishment increased and hope appeared in her eyes. She said impatiently, “Is it true what you say? Is it true what you say?”

  “What I say is an accomplished fact.”

  Her face lit up and her cheeks reddened. Then she hesitated for a second and enquired, “But how can that be?”

  “Aha! I read your eager hopes in your eyes. Are you not hoping that your father's victory is the reason for your regaining your liberty? That is what I read. But it is his defeat, alas, that has put an end to your enslavement.”

  She was tongue-tied and said not a word. He informed her briefly of her father's envoys’ proposals and what had been agreed. Then he said, “And soon you will be taken to your father and journey with him wherever he journeys. So this is a blessed day for us.”

  Shades of sorrow enshrouded her face, her features froze, and she looked away. Ahmose asked her, “Do you find your sorrow at the defeat greater than your joy at your release?”

  She replied, “It behooves you not to gloat over me, for we shall leave your country as honorable people, just as we lived in it.”

  Ahmose said with visible disquiet, “I am not gloating over you, Princess. We ourselves have tasted the bitterness of defeat and these long wars have taught us to acknowledge your courage and bravery.”

  Comforted, she said, “I thank you, King.”

  For the first time, he heard her speak in tones empty of anger and pride. Affected, he said to her, smiling sadly, “I see that you call me ‘King,’ Princess.”

  Turning her eyes away, she replied, “Because you are the king of this valley, without any to share it with you. I, however, shall never be called ‘Princess’ after today.”

  The king was even more affected, for he had not expected her unyieldingness to soften in this way. He had thought that she would become yet more arrogant in defeat. He said sadly, “Princess, the experiences of this world are a register of pleasure and pain. You have experienced life in its sweetness and bitterness and you still have a future.”

  With amazing serenity she said, “Indeed, we have a future, behind the mirages of the unknown desert and we shall meet our fate with courage.”

  Silence reigned. Their eyes met and he read in hers purity and gentleness. He remembered the lady of the cabin, who saved his life and fed him the nectar of love and tenderness. It was as though he were seeing her for the first time since then and, his heart shaking violently, he said earnestly and sadly, “Soon we will be parted and you will not care. But I shall always remember that you -were uncivil and harsh -with me.”

  Sadness showed in her eyes and her mouth parted in a slight smile as she said, “King, you know little about us. We are a people who find death easier to bear than abasement.”

  “I never wanted to abase you. But I was deluded by hope, misled by my misplaced confidence in a standing that I believed I had in your heart.”

  She said in a low voice, “Would it not be abasement for me to open my arms to my captor and my father's enemy?”

  He replied bitterly, “Love knows nothing of such logic.”

  She took refuge in silence. Then, as though persuaded by his words, she murmured in a low voice that he did not hear, “I blame only myself.” Her eyes took on a faraway look and with a sudden motion she stretched out her hand to her bed pillow and took out from beneath it the necklace with the emerald heart and put it around her neck calmly and submissively. His eyes followed her, unbelieving. Then he threw himself at her side, unable to contain himself longer, encircled her neck with his arm and drew her madly and violently to his chest. She offered him no resistance but said sadly, “Beware. It is too late.”

  The pressure of his arms around her increased and he said in a trembling voice, “Amenridis, how can you bring yourself to say that? How can I discover my happiness only when it is about to disappear? No, I will not let you go.”

  She gazed at him with sympathy and pity and asked him, “What will you do?”

  “I shall keep you at my side.”

  “Don't you know what my staying with you means? Will you sacrifice thirty thousand captives of your people and many more of your soldiers?”

  He frowned, his eyes darkened, and he murmured as though speaking to himself, “My father and grandfather were martyred for my people and I have given them my life. Will they begrudge my heart its happiness?”

  She shook her head sadly and said gently, “Listen to me, Isfmis - let me call you by that dear name, because it is the first name I have loved in my life. There is no escape from parting. We shall part. We shall part. You will never agree to sacrifice thirty thousand of your people, whom you love, and I shall never agree to the massacre of my father and my people. So let each one of us bear his lot of pain.”

  He looked at her distractedly, as though he could not bear that his only lot in love should be the acceptance of parting and pain, and said to her hopefully, “Amenridis, don't rush to despair, and shun thoughts of parting. Hearing the word pass so easily over your tongue brings back the madness to my blood. Amenridis, let me knock on all doors, even that of your father. Why should I not ask him for your hand?”

  She smiled sadly and said, gently touching his hand, “Alas, Isfmis, you do not know what you are saying. Do you think my father would accept the marriage of his daughter to the victorious king who subdued him and exiled him from the country in which he was born and on whose throne he sat? I know my father better than you and there is no hope. The only path is patience.”

  He listened to her distractedly, asking himself, “Is the person who is speaking in this low, broken, sad voice really the Princess Amenridis for whom, in her folly, scorn, and conceit, the whole world was not large enough?” Everything seemed strange and abominable to his eyes and he said angrily, “The least of my soldiers would not so neglect his heart that he would allow anyone to separate it from what it loved.”

  “You are a king, my lord, and kings have greater pleasures than the rest and heavier duties — like the towering tree, which gets a larger portion of the sun's rays and the breezes than the plants beneath it and greater exposure to the unruliness of the wind and the blustering of the storms.”

  Ahmose groaned, and said, “Ah, how wretched I am! I have loved you from the first meeting on my ship.”

  She lowered her eyes and said simply and honestly, “Love knocked at my heart that same day but I did not know it until later. My feelings awoke the night Commander Rukh forced you to fight him and my concern for you showed me my sickness. I spent the night in confusion and turmoil, not knowing what to do -with this newborn … until infatuation overwhelmed me a few days later and I lost my senses.”

  “In the cabin, isn't that so?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, God! What will my life be without you?”

  “It will be like my life without you, Isfmis.”

  He clasped her to his bosom and laid his cheek against hers, as though their touching could drive away the specter of parting that loomed before them. He could not bear it that he should have discovered his love and bade it farewell within the same hour. His thoughts ran in all directions seeking a solution but found their way barred at every turn by despair and grief, and the best that he could do in the end was to tighten his arms around her. Both of them felt that the time had come for them to part but neither moved, and they remained like one.

  29

  Ahmose left the princess's ship, his feet barely able to carry him. He was looking at something in his hand, murmuring, “Is this all that is left to me of my beloved?” It was the chain of the necklace
, the princess having given it to him as a memento while she kept the heart for herself. The king mounted his chariot and proceeded to the army's camp, where his men met him with Chamberlain Hur at their head, the latter stealing anxious, pitying glances at his master. The king went to the pavilion and, summoning the envoy of Apophis, told him, “Envoy, we have studied your proposal carefully. Since my goal has been to liberate my country from your rule and that is what you have accepted, I have chosen the solution of peace, to avoid further bloodshed. We shall exchange prisoners immediately but I shall not give the order to halt work until the last of your men leaves Avaris. Thus this black page in the history of our country will be turned.”

  The envoy bent his head and said, “Your decision is wise, O King. War, if not for a valid purpose, is nothing but slaughter and massacre.”

  Ahmose said, “Now I shall leave you to discuss together the details of the exchange and the evacuation.”

  The king arose. Everyone stood and bowed to him respectfully and he saluted them with his hand and left the place.

  30

  The exchange of prisoners took place on the evening of that day. One of the gates of Avaris was opened and the bands of prisoners came out, women and men, cheering joyfully for their sovereign and waving their hands. The Herdsmen prisoners, with Princess Amenridis at their head, left for the city in silence and dejection.

  On the morning of the following day, Ahmose and his entourage went early to a nearby hill that looked out over the eastern gates of Avaris to witness the departure of the Herdsmen from the last Egyptian city. The others could not conceal their gaiety and their faces twinkled with joy and happiness. Commander Mheb said, “Soon the chamberlains of Apophis will bring the keys of Avaris to surrender to His Majesty, just as the keys of Thebes were surrendered to Apophis eleven years ago.”

  The chamberlains came, as Commander Mheb had said, and presented to Ahmose an ebony box in which were laid the keys of Avaris. The king received these and gave them to his grand chamberlain, then returned the salute of the men, who returned whence they came in silence.

  The eastern gates were then opened wide, their squealing resounding off the valley's sides as the observers on the hill watched in silence. The first groups of those leaving emerged — charioteers bristling with arms, whom Apophis had sent ahead to scout out the unknown road. Groups of women and children followed them, riding on the backs of mules and donkeys, some of them carried in litters. Their exit took many long hours. Then a great cavalcade appeared, surrounded by horsemen from the guard and followed by ox-drawn carts. The watchers realized that this was Apophis and the people of his house. Ahmose's heart beat hard when he saw it and he resisted a burning tear that he felt tugging at him inside. He asked himself where she might be. Was she looking as hard for him as he for her? Was she thinking of him in the same way that he thought of her? Was she suppressing a tear as he was? He followed the cavalcade with his eyes, not turning to the soldiers pouring out in its wake from all the gates, and continued to follow it with his eyes and his heart, and to hover around it in spirit, until the horizon hid it and the unknown swallowed it up.

  The king awoke to the voice of Hur saying, “At this immortal hour, the hearts of our sovereign Seqenenra and of our glorious hero Kamose are happy, and Thebes’ struggle, which has known no despair, is crowned with outright triumph.”

  The Army of Deliverance entered mighty Avaris, occupying its impregnable walls, and there it stayed until dawn of the following day. Ahmose marched eastward with a battalion of chariots headed by his vanguard, and entered Tanis and Difna, where spies came to him and congratulated him on the withdrawal of the last of the Herdsmen from the land of Egypt. Returning to Avaris, the king ordered the army to perform a collective prayer to the Lord Amun. The various battalions formed, their officers and commander at the head of each and the king and his entourage at the head of all. Then all knelt in reverent submission and prayed ardently to the Lord. Ahmose ended his prayer with the following words: “I praise you and thank you, Divine Lord, for you have protected me and made steadfast my heart and honored me by allowing me to achieve the goal for which my grandfather and my father were martyred. O God, inspire me to do what is right, and help me to find the resolution and faith to heal my people's wounds and make them worthy slaves of the best of lords!”

  Ahmose then summoned his men to meet with him and they obeyed the summons quickly. He said to them, “Today the war is over and we must sheathe our swords. But the struggle never ends. Believe me when I say that peace is yet more demanding of vigilance and readiness to do great things than war. Lend me then your hearts, that we may make Egypt live anew.”

  The king looked into the faces of his men for a while and then he continued, “I have decided to start the struggle for the peace by choosing my loyal helpers. Thus, I appoint Hur my minister.”

  Hur stood and went to his master and knelt before him and kissed his hand. The king said, “I believe that Seneb is the best successor for Hur in my palace. Deeb will be head of the royal guard.”

  The king looked at Mheb and said, “You, Mheb, are to be commander-in-chief of my army.”

  Then he turned to Ahmose Ebana and said, “You will be commander of the fleet and the estates of your brave father Pepi will be restored to you.”

  Then the king addressed his words to all, saying, “Now return to Thebes, capital of our realm, that each may carry out his duty.”

  Hur asked anxiously, “Will Pharaoh not return at the head of his army to Thebes?”

  “No,” Ahmose replied, as he prepared to rise. “My ship will set sail with me to Dabod, so that I may take the glad tidings of victory to my family. Then I will return with them to Thebes, that we may enter it together just as we left it together.”

  31

  The royal ship set sail, guarded by three warships. Ahmose kept to his cabin on the deck, looking at the distant horizon with a set face and eyes brimming with sadness and pain. After several days of traveling, little Dabod appeared with its scattered huts and the fleet moored on its shore as day ended. The king and his guard disembarked in their handsome clothes, attracting all eyes and bringing hurrying to them a throng of Nubians, who went before them to the house of the governor, Ra'um. News spread in the city that a great envoy from Pharaoh had arrived to visit the family of Seqenenra. The news reached the governor's house before the king and as he approached he found the governor and the royal family in the courtyard of the palace, waiting. As the king went up to them astonishment and joy silenced their tongues. Ra'um went down on his knees and all let out a cry of joy and happiness and hurried to him. The young queen Nefertari -was the first to reach him and she kissed his cheeks and his brow. Then he looked and he saw his mother Queen Setkimus reaching out her arms and he clasped her to his breast and gave her his cheeks to kiss tenderly. His grandmother Queen Ahotep was waiting her turn and he went up to her and kissed her hands and her brow. Finally, he saw the last, and the best, of the people — Tetisheri, whom -white hair had crowned and -whose cheeks -were -withered -with age. His heart beat fast and he took her in his arms, saying, “Mother, and mother of all!”

  She kissed him -with her thin lips and said, as she raised her eyes to him, “Let me look on the living image of Seqenenra.”

  Ahmose said, “I chose, Mother, to be the messenger who would bring you the good news of the great triumph. Know, Mother, that our valiant army has won outright victory and defeated Apophis and his people, driving them into the desert from whence they came and liberating the whole of Egypt from slavery. Thus Amun's promise is fulfilled and the souls of Seqenenra and Kamose rejoice.”

  Tetisheri's face lit up, her tired eyes beamed, and she said joyfully, “Today our captivity is ended and we shall return to Thebes. I shall find it as I left it, the city of glory and sovereignty, and I shall find my grandson on the throne of Seqenenra, continuing the glorious life of Amenhotep that was cut short.”

  Lady Ray, the queen's lady-in-waiting, arrive
d, carrying the crown prince in her arms. Bowing to the king, she said, “My lord, kiss your little son, Crown Prince Amenhotep.”

  His eyes softened and an outpouring of tenderness overcame him. He took the little one in his arms and brought him close to his mouth till his longing lips touched him and Amenhotep smiled at his father and paddled at him with his two little hands.

  Then the royal family entered the house, filled with joy and tranquility, and spent the evening on their own, talking and remembering the days that had passed.

  32

  The soldiers loaded the family's possessions onto the royal vessel. Then the king and his clan transferred to that and came out to bid farewell to Governor Ra'um, the members of his government, and all the people of Dabod. Before the ship raised its anchors, Ahmose summoned Ra'um and told him in his men's hearing, “Honest Governor, I commend Nubia and the people of Nubia to you, for Nubia was our place of refuge when we had no other place to go, our country when we had no country, our shelter when our supporters were few and our friends were dead, and the depot for our arms and our soldiers when the call to struggle came. Do not forget what it did, and from this day on let us not deny to southern Egypt anything that we desire for ourselves and let us shield it from whatever we would not wish for ourselves.”

  Then the ship set sail with the guard's ships behind it, making its way toward the north, bearing men and women whose hearts yearned for Egypt and its people. After a short journey, the ship reached Egypt's borders and received a wonderful welcome, the men of the south coming out to them in Governor Shaw's ship, the boats of the cheering and singing locals all around them. Shaw climbed onto the deck with the priests of Biga, Bilaq, and Sayin, the headmen of the villages, and the elders of the cities. They prostrated themselves to the king and listened to his counsels. Then the ship moved on toward the north, the people welcoming it from the shores, boats surrounding it, and the governors, judges, headmen, and notables climbing on board at every city. The ship continued to hasten north until the darkness of dawn parted one day to reveal, on the distant horizon, the high walls of Thebes, its huge gates, its immortal splendor. The family hurried from their chambers to the front of the ship, their eyes hanging on the horizon, affection and passionate attachment gleaming in their looks and their eyes brimming over with tears of thanks, as their lips muttered quietly, “Thebes! Thebes!” Queen Ahotep said in a trembling voice, “Dear God! I did not imagine that my eyes would ever again fall on those walls.”