Nearly three months had passed since the battle of Kadesh, and to-day
the king was expected, on his way home with his victorious army, at
Pelusium, the strong hold and key of Egyptian dominion in the east.
Splendid preparations had been made for his reception, and the man who
took the lead in the festive arrangements with a zeal that was doubly
effective from his composed demeanor was no less a person than the
Regent Ani.
His chariot was to be seen everywhere: now he was with the workmen,
who were to decorate triumphal arches with fresh flowers; now with the
slaves, who were hanging garlands on the wooden lions erected on the
road for this great occasion; now--and this detained him longest--he
watched the progress of the immense palace which was being rapidly
constructed of wood on the site where formerly the camp of the Hyksos
had stood, in which the actual ceremony of receiving the king was to
take place, and where the Pharaoh and his immediate followers were
to reside. It had been found possible, by employing several thousand
laborers, to erect this magnificent structure, in a few weeks, and
nothing was lacking to it that could be desired, even by a king so
accustomed as Rameses to luxury and splendor. A high exterior flight of
steps led from the garden--which had been created out of a waste--to the
vestibule, out of which the banqueting hall opened.
This was of unusual height, and had a vaulted wooden ceiling, which was
painted blue and sprinkled with stars, to represent the night heavens,
and which was supported on pillars carved, some in the form of
date-palms, and some like cedars of Lebanon; the leaves and twigs
consisted of artfully fastened and colored tissue; elegant festoons of
bluish gauze were stretched from pillar to pillar across the hall,
and in the centre of the eastern wall they were attached to a large
shell-shaped canopy extending over the throne of the king, which was
decorated with pieces of green and blue glass, of mother of pearl, of
shining plates of mica, and other sparkling objects.
The throne itself had the shape of a buckler, guarded by two lions,
which rested on each side of it and formed the arms, and supported on
the backs of four Asiatic captives who crouched beneath its weight.
Thick carpets, which seemed to have transported the sea-shore on to the
dry land-for their pale blue ground was strewn with a variety of shells,
fishes, and water plants-covered the floor of the banqueting hall, in
which three hundred seats were placed by the tables, for the nobles of
the kingdom and the officers of the troops.
Above all this splendor hung a thousand lamps, shaped like lilies and
tulips, and in the entrance hall stood a huge basket of roses to be
strewn before the king when he should arrive.
Even the bed-rooms for the king and his suite were splendidly decorated;
finely embroidered purple stuffs covered the walls, a light cloud of
pale blue gauze hung across the ceiling, and giraffe skins were laid
instead of carpets on the floors.
The barracks intended for the soldiers and bodyguard stood nearer to
the city, as well as the stable buildings, which were divided from the
palace by the garden which surrounded it. A separate pavilion, gilt
and wreathed with flowers, was erected to receive the horses which had
carried the king through the battle, and which he had dedicated to the
Sun-God.
The Regent Ani, accompanied by Katuti, was going through the whole of
these slightly built structures.
“It seems to me all quite complete,” said the widow.
“Only one thing I cannot make up my mind about,” replied Ani, “whether
most to admire your inventive genius or your exquisite taste.”
“Oh! let that pass,” said Katuti smiling. “If any thing deserves
your praise it is my anxiety to serve you. How many things had to be
considered before this structure at last stood complete on this marshy
spot where the air seemed alive with disgusting insects and now it is
finished how long will it last?”
Ani looked down. “How long?” he repeated. Then he continued: “There is
great risk already of the plot miscarrying. Ameni has grown cool, and
will stir no further in the matter; the troops on which I counted are
perhaps still faithful to me, but much too weak; the Hebrews, who tend
their flocks here, and whom I gained over by liberating them from forced
labor, have never borne arms. And you know the people. They will kiss
the feet of the conqueror if they have to wade up to there through the
blood of their children. Besides--as it happens--the hawk which old Hekt
keeps as representing me is to-day pining and sick--”
“It will be all the prouder and brighter to-morrow if you are a man!”
exclaimed Katuti, and her eyes sparkled with scorn. “You cannot now
retreat. Here in Pelusium you welcome Rameses as if he were a God,
and he accepts the honor. I know the king, he is too proud to be
distrustful, and so conceited that he can never believe himself deceived
in any man, either friend or foe. The man whom he appointed to be his
Regent, whom he designated as the worthiest in the land, he will most
unwillingly condemn. Today you still have the car of the king; to-morrow
he will listen to your enemies, and too much has occurred in Thebes to
be blotted out. You are in the position of a lion who has his keeper on
one side, and the bars of his cage on the other. If you let the moment
pass without striking you will remain in the cage; but if you act and
show yourself a lion your keepers are done for!”
“You urge me on and on,” said Ani. “But supposing your plan were to
fail, as Paaker’s well considered plot failed?”
“Then you are no worse off than you are now,” answered Katuti. “The
Gods rule the elements, not men. Is it likely that you should finish so
beautiful a structure with such care only to destroy it? And we have no
accomplices, and need none.”
“But who shall set the brand to the room which Nemu and the slave have
filled with straw and pitch?” asked Ani.
“I,” said Katuti decidedly. “And one who has nothing to look for from
Rameses.”
“Who is that?”
“Paaker.”
“Is the Mohar here?” asked the Regent surprised.
“You yourself have seen him.”
“You are mistaken,” said Ani. “I should--”
“Do you recollect the one-eyed, grey-haired, blackman, who yesterday
brought me a letter? That was my sister’s son.”
The Regent struck his forehead--“Poor wretch” he muttered.
“He is frightfully altered,” said Katuti. “He need not have blackened
his face, for his own mother would not know him again: He lost an eye in
his fight with Mena, who also wounded him in the lungs with a thrust
of his sword, so that he breathes and speaks with difficulty, his broad
shoulders have lost their flesh, and the fine legs he swaggered about on
have shrunk as thin as a negro’s. I let him pass as my servant without
any hesitation or misgiving. He does not yet know of my purpose, but I
am sure that he would help us if a thousand deaths threatened him. For
God’s sake put aside all doubts and fears! We will shake the tree for
you, if you will only hold out your hand to-morrow to pick up the fruit.
Only one thing I must beg. Command the head butler not to stint the
wine, so that the guards may give us no trouble. I know that you gave
the order that only three of the five ships which brought the contents
of your winelofts should be unloaded. I should have thought that the
future king of Egypt might have been less anxious to save!”
Katuti’s lips curled with contempt as she spoke the last words. Ani
observed this and said:
“You think I am timid! Well, I confess I would far rather that much
which I have done at your instigation could be undone. I would willingly
renounce this new plot, though we so carefully planned it when we built
and decorated this palace. I will sacrifice the wine; there are jars of
wine there that were old in my father’s time--but it must be so! You are
right! Many things have occurred which the king will not forgive! You
are right, you are right--do what seems good to you. I will retire after
the feast to the Ethiopian camp.”
“They will hail you as king as soon as the usurpers have fallen in the
flames,” cried Katuti. “If only a few set the example, the others will
take up the cry, and even though you have offended Ameni he will attach
himself to you rather than to Rameses. Here he comes, and I already see
the standards in the distance.”
“They are coming!” said the Regent. “One thing more! Pray see yourself
that the princess Bent-Anat goes to the rooms intended for her; she must
not be injured.”
“Still Bent-Anat?” said Katuti with a smile full of meaning but without
bitterness. “Be easy, her rooms are on the ground floor, and she shall
be warned in time.”
Ani turned to leave her; he glanced once more at the great hall, and
said with a sigh. “My heart is heavy--I wish this day and this night
were over!”
“You are like this grand hall,” said Katuti smiling, “which is now
empty, almost dismal; but this evening, when it is crowded with guests,
it will look very different. You were born to be a king, and yet are not
a king; you will not be quite yourself till the crown and sceptre are
your own.”
Ani smiled too, thanked her, and left her; but Katuti said to herself:
“Bent-Anat may burn with the rest: I have no intention of sharing my
power with her!”
Crowds of men and women from all parts had thronged to Pelusium, to
welcome the conqueror and his victorious army on the frontier. Every
great temple-college had sent a deputation to meet Rameses, that from
the Necropolis consisting of five members, with Ameni and old Gagabu
at their head. The white-robed ministers of the Gods marched in solemn
procession towards the bridge which lay across the eastern-Pelusiac-arm
of the Nile, and led to Egypt proper--the land fertilized by the waters
of the sacred stream.
The deputation from the temple of Memphis led the procession; this
temple had been founded by Mena, the first king who wore the united
crowns of Upper and Lower Egypt, and Chamus, the king’s son, was the
high-priest. The deputation from the not less important temple of
Heliopolis came next, and was followed by the representatives of the
Necropolis of Thebes.
A few only of the members of these deputations wore the modest
white robe of the simple priest; most of them were invested with the
panther-skin which was worn by the prophets. Each bore a staff decorated
with roses, lilies, and green branches, and many carried censers in the
form of a golden arm with incense in the hollow of the hand, to be burnt
before the king. Among the deputies from the priesthood at Thebes were
several women of high rank, who served in the worship of this God, and
among them was Katuti, who by the particular desire of the Regent had
lately been admitted to this noble sisterhood.
Ameni walked thoughtfully by the side of the prophet Gagabu.
“How differently everything has happened from what we hoped and
intended!” said Gagabu in a low voice. “We are like ambassadors with
sealed credentials--who can tell their contents?”
“I welcome Rameses heartily and joyfully,” said Ameni. “After that which
happened to him at Kadesh he will come home a very different man to what
he was when he set out. He knows now what he owes to Amon. His favorite
son was already at the head of the ministers of the temple at Memphis,
and he has vowed to build magnificent temples and to bring splendid
offerings to the Immortals. And Rameses keeps his word better than that
smiling simpleton in the chariot yonder.”
“Still I am sorry for Ani,” said Gagabu.
“The Pharaoh will not punish him--certainly not,” replied the
high-priest. “And he will have nothing to fear from Ani; he is a feeble
reed, the powerless sport of every wind.”
“And yet you hoped for great things from him!”
“Not from him, but through him--with us for his guides,” replied Ameni
in a low voice but with emphasis. “It is his own fault that I have
abandoned his cause. Our first wish--to spare the poet Pentaur--he would
not respect, and he did not hesitate to break his oath, to betray us,
and to sacrifice one of the noblest of God’s creatures, as the poet
was, to gratify a petty grudge. It is harder to fight against cunning
weakness than against honest enmity. Shall we reward the man who has
deprived the world of Pentaur by giving him a crown? It is hard to quit
the trodden way, and seek a better--to give up a half-executed plan and
take a more promising one; it is hard, I say, for the individual man,
and makes him seem fickle in the eyes of others; but we cannot see to
the right hand and the left, and if we pursue a great end we cannot
remain within the narrow limits which are set by law and custom to the
actions of private individuals. We draw back just as we seem to have
reached the goal, we let him fall whom we had raised, and lift him,
whom we had stricken to the earth, to the pinnacle of glory, in short
we profess--and for thousands of years have professed--the doctrine that
every path is a right one that leads to the great end of securing to the
priesthood the supreme power in the land. Rameses, saved by a miracle,
vowing temples to the Gods, will for the future exhaust his restless
spirit not in battle as a warrior, but in building as an architect. He
will make use of us, and we can always lead the man who needs us. So I
now hail the son of Seti with sincere joy.”
Ameni was still speaking when the flags were hoisted on the standards by
the triumphal arches, clouds of dust rolled up on the farther shore of
the Nile, and the blare of trumpets was heard.
First came the horses which had carried Rameses through the fight, with
the king himself, who drove them. His eyes sparkled with joyful triumph
as the people on the farther side of the bridge received him with shouts
of joy, and the vast multitude hailed him with wild enthusiasm and tears
of emotion, strewing in his path the spoils of their gardens-flowers,
garlands, and palm-branches.
Ani marched at the head of the procession that went forth to meet
him; he humbly threw himself in the dust before the horses, kissed
the ground, and then presented to the king the sceptre that had
been entrusted to him, lying on a silk cushion. The king received it
graciously, and when Ani took his robe to kiss it, the king bent down
towards him, and touching the Regent’s forehead with his lips, desired
him to take the place by his side in the chariot, and fill the office of
charioteer.
The king’s eyes were moist with grateful emotion. He had not been
deceived, and he could re-enter the country for whose greatness and
welfare alone he lived, as a father, loving and beloved, and not as
a master to judge and punish. He was deeply moved as he accepted the
greetings of the priests, and with them offered up a public prayer. Then
he was conducted to the splendid structure which had been prepared for
him gaily mounted the outside steps, and from the top-most stair
bowed to his innumerable crowd of subjects; and while he awaited the
procession from the harbor which escorted Bent-Anat in her litter, he
inspected the thousand decorated bulls and antelopes which were to
be slaughtered as a thank-offering to the Gods, the tame lions and
leopards, the rare trees in whose branches perched gaily-colored birds,
the giraffes, and chariots to which ostriches were harnessed, which all
marched past him in a long array.
[The splendor of the festivities I make Ani prepare seems pitiful
compared with those Ptolemy Philadelphus, according to the report of
an eye witness, Callexenus, displayed to the Alexandrians on a
festal occasion.]
Rameses embraced his daughter before all the people; he felt as if he
must admit his subjects to the fullest sympathy in the happiness and
deep thankfulness which filled his soul. His favorite child had never
seemed to him so beautiful as this day, and he realized with deep
emotion her strong resemblance to his lost wife.--[Her name was Isis
Nefert.]
Nefert had accompanied her royal friend as fanbearer, and she knelt
before the king while he gave himself up to the delight of meeting his
daughter. Then he observed her, and kindly desired her to rise. “How
much,” he said, “I am feeling to-day for the first time! I have already
learned that what I formerly thought of as the highest happiness
is capable of a yet higher pitch, and I now perceive that the most
beautiful is capable of growing to greater beauty! A sun has grown from
Mena’s star.”
Rameses, as he spoke, remembered his charioteer; for a moment his brow
was clouded, and he cast down his eyes, and bent his head in thought.
Bent-Anat well knew this gesture of her father’s; it was the omen of
some kindly, often sportive suggestion, such as he loved to surprise his
friends with.
He reflected longer than usual; at last he looked up, and his full eyes
rested lovingly on his daughter as he asked her:
“What did your friend say when she heard that her husband had taken a
pretty stranger into his tent, and harbored her there for months? Tell
me the whole truth of it, Bent-Anat.”
“I am indebted to this deed of Mena’s, which must certainly be quite
excusable if you can smile when you speak of it,” said the princess,
“for it was the cause of his wife’s coming to me. Her mother blamed her
husband with bitter severity, but she would not cease to believe in him,
and left her house because it was impossible for her to endure to hear
him blamed.”
“Is this the fact?” asked Rameses.
Nefert bowed her pretty head, and two tears ran down her blushing
cheeks.
“How good a man must be,” cried the king, “on whom the Gods bestow such
happiness! My lord Chamberlain, inform Mena that I require his services
at dinner to-day--as before the battle at Kadesh. He flung away the
reins in the fight when he saw his enemy, and we shall see if he can
keep from flinging down the beaker when, with his own eyes, he sees
his beloved wife sitting at the table.--You ladies will join me at the
banquet.”
Nefert sank on her knees before the king; but he turned from her to
speak to the nobles and officers who had come to meet him, and then
proceeded to the temple to assist at the slaughter of the victims, and
to solemnly renew his vow in the presence of the priests and the people,
to erect a magnificent temple in Thebes as a thank-offering for his
preservation from death. He was received with rapturous enthusiasm; his
road led to the harbor, past the tents in which lay the wounded, who had
been brought home to Egypt by ship, and he greeted them graciously from
his chariot.
Ani again acted as his charioteer; they drove slowly through the long
ranks of invalids and convalescents, but suddenly Ani gave the reins an
involuntary pull, the horses reared, and it was with difficulty that he
soothed them to a steady pace again.
Rameses looked round in anxious surprise, for at the moment when the
horses had started, he too had felt an agitating thrill--he thought he
had caught sight of his preserver at Kadesh.
Had the sight of a God struck terror into the horses? Was he the victim
of a delusion? or was his preserver a man of flesh and blood, who had
come home from the battle-field among the wounded!
The man who stood by his side, and held the reins, could have informed
him, for Ani had recognized Pentaur, and in his horror had given the
reins a perilous jerk.