THE SUMMONING OF AMEN
The years went by and the Princess Neter-Tua, who was called Morning
Star of Amen, came at length to womanhood, and went through the
ceremonies of Purification. In all Egypt there was no maiden so wise and
spirited or so lovely. Tall and slender was her shape, blue as the sea
were her eyes, rosy like the dawn were her cheeks, and when she did not
wear it in a net of gold, her black and curling hair fell almost to her
waist. Also she was very learned, for priests and priestesses taught her
all things that she ought to know, together with the arts of playing
on the harp and of singing and dancing, while her own excellent Spirit,
that Ka which Amen had given her, instructed her in a deeper wisdom
which she gathered unconsciously in sleep and waking dreams, as the
slumbering earth gathers dew at night.
Moreover, her father, the wise old Pharaoh, opened to her the craft of
statesmanship, by help of which she might govern men and overthrow her
enemies. Indeed, he did more, for when her education was finished, he
joined her with him in the government of Egypt, saying:
“I who always lacked bodily strength, grow aged and feeble. This mighty
crown is too heavy for me to bear alone. Daughter, you must share its
weight.”
So the young Neter-Tua became a queen, and great was the ceremony of her
coronation. The high priests and priestesses, clothed in the robes
and symbols of their gods and goddesses, addressed speeches to her and
blessed her in their names, giving her every good gift and promising to
her eternal life. Princes and nobles made her offerings; foreign chiefs
and kings bowed before her by their ambassadors. The Counts and headmen
of the Two Lands swore allegiance to her, and, finally, in the presence
of all the Court, Pharaoh himself set the double crown upon her brow
and gave her her throne-names of “Glorious in Ra and Hathor Strong in
Beauty.”
So for a while Tua sat splendid on her golden seat while the people
adored her, but in that triumphant hour her eyes searched for one face
only, that of the tall and gallant captain, Rames, her foster-brother,
and for a moment rested there content. Yes, their eyes met, those of
the new-crowned Empress on her throne and of the youthful noble in the
throng below. Short was the greeting, for next instant she looked away,
yet more full of meaning than whole days of speech.
“The Queen does not forget what the child remembered, the goddess is
still a woman,” it seemed to say. And so sweet was that message that
Rames staggered from the Court like one stricken by the sun.
Night came at last, and having dismissed her secretaries, scribes and
tire-women the weary girl, now clad in simple white, sat in her chamber
alone. She thought of all the splendours through which she had passed;
she thought of the glories of her imperial state, of the power that she
wielded, and of the proud future which stretched before her feet.
But most of all she thought of the face of the young Count Rames, the
playmate of her childhood, the man she loved, and wondered, ah! how she
wondered, if with all her power she could ever draw him to her side.
If not, of what use was this rule over millions, this dominion of her
world? They called her a goddess, and in truth, at times, she believed
that she was half-divine, but if so, why did her heart ache like that of
any common maid?
Moreover, was she really set above the misfortunes of her race? Could
a throne, however bright with gold, lift her above the sorrows of human
kind? She desired to learn the truth, the very truth. Her mind was
urgent, it drove her on to search out things to come, to stand face to
face with them, even if they were evil. Well, she believed she had the
strength, although, as yet, she had never called it to her aid.
Also this thing could not be done alone. Tua thought a while, then going
to the door of her chamber she bade a woman who waited without summon to
her the Lady Asti, priestess of Amen, Interpreter of Heaven. Presently
Asti came, for now, as always, she was in attendance upon the
new-crowned queen, a tall and noble-looking woman with fine-cut features
and black hair, that although she was fifty years of age, still showed
no trace of grey.
“I was in the Sanctuary when your Majesty summoned me,” she said,
pointing to the sacred robe she wore. “Let your Majesty pardon me,
therefore, if I have been long in coming,” and she bowed low before her.
But the Queen lifted her up and kissed her, saying,
“I am weary of those high titles whereof I have heard more than enough
to-day. Call me Tua, O my mother, for so you have ever been to me, from
whose breast I drew the milk of life.”
“What ails you, my child?” asked Asti. “Was the crown too heavy for this
young head of yours?” she added, stretching out her delicate hand and
stroking the black and curling hair.
“Aye, Mother, the weight of it seemed to crush me with its gems and
gold. I am weary and yet I cannot sleep. Tell me, why did Pharaoh summon
that Council after the feast? Mermes was one of them, so you must know.
And why was not I, who henceforth rule with Pharaoh, present with him?”
“Would you learn?” said Asti with a little smile. “Well, as Queen
you have the right. It was because they discussed the matter of your
marriage.”
For a moment a light shone upon Tua’s face. Then she asked anxiously:
“My marriage, and with whom?”
“Oh! many names were mentioned, Child, since she who rules Egypt does
not lack for suitors.”
“Tell me them quick, Asti.”
So she told them, there were seven in all, the Prince of Kesh, the sons
of foreign kings, great nobles, and a general of the army who claimed
descent from a former Pharaoh.
As each name fell from Asti’s lips Tua waved her hand, saying scornful
words, such as “I know him not,” “Too old,” “Fat and hideous,” “A
foreign dog who spits upon our gods,” and so forth, adding at last:
“Go on.”
“That is all, Lady, no other name was mentioned, and the Council
adjourned to consider these.”
“No other name?”
“Do you then miss one, perchance, Tua?”
She made no answer, only her lips seemed to shape themselves to a
certain sound that they did not utter. The two women looked each other
in the eyes, then Asti shook her head.
“It may not be,” she whispered, “for many reasons, and amongst them that
by the solemn decree of long ago whereof I have told you, our blood is
barred for ever from the throne. None would dare to break it, not even
the Pharaoh himself. You would bring my son to his death, Tua, which
such another look as you gave him in yonder hall would surely do.”
“No,” she answered slowly, “I would not bring him to his death, but to
life and honour and--love, and one day _I_ shall be Pharaoh. Only, Asti,
if you betray me to him I swear that I will bring you to your death,
although you are so dear.”
“I shall not betray you,” answered the priestess, smiling again. “In
truth, most Beautiful, I do not think there is any need, even if I
would. Say now, why did a certain captain turn faint and leave the hall
to-day when your eyes chanced to fall on him?”
“The heat,” suggested Tua, colouring.
“Yes, it was hot, but he is stronger than most men and had borne it
long--like others. Still there are fires----”
“Because he was afraid of my majesty,” broke in Tua hurriedly. “You know
I looked very royal there, Mother.”
“Yes, doubtless fear moved him--or some other passion. Yet, Beloved,
put that thought from your heart as I do. When you are Pharaoh you will
learn that a monarch is a slave to the people and to the law. Breathe
but his name in love, and never will you see him more till you meet
before Osiris.”
Tua hid her eyes in her hands for a moment, then she glanced up and
there was another look upon her face, a strange, new look.
“When I am Pharaoh,” she answered, “there are certain matters in which
I will be my own law, and if the people do not like it, they may find
another Pharaoh.”
Asti started at her words, and a light of joy shone in her deep eyes.
“Truly your heart is high,” she said; “but, oh! if you love me--and
another--bury that thought, bury it deep, or he will never live to see
you placed alone upon the golden seat. Know, Lady, that already from
hour to hour I fear for him--lest he should drink a poisoned cup,
lest at night he should chance to stumble against a spear, lest an
arrow--shot in sport--should fall against his throat and none know
whence it came.”
Tua clenched her hands.
“If so, there should be such vengeance as Egypt has not heard of since
Mena ruled.”
“Of what use is vengeance, Child, when the heart is empty and the tomb
is sealed?”
Again Tua thought. Then she said:
“There are other gods besides Osiris. Now what do men call me, Mother?
Nay, not my royal names.”
“They call you Morning Star of Amen; they call you Daughter of Amen.”
“Is that story true, Asti the Magician?”
“Aye, at least your mother dreamed the dream, for she told it to me and
I have read its record, who am a priestess of Amen.”
“Then this high god should love me, should he not? He should hear my
prayers and give me power--he should protect those who are dear to me.
Mother, they say that you, the Mistress of secret things, can open the
ears of the gods and cause their mouths to speak. Mother, I command you
as your Queen, call up my father Amen before me, so that I may talk with
him, for I have words to which he must listen.”
“Are you not afraid?” asked Asti, looking at her curiously. “He is the
greatest of all the gods, and to summon him lightly is a sacrilege.”
“Should a daughter fear her father?” answered Tua.
“When the divine Queen your mother and Pharaoh knelt before him in his
shrine, praying that a child might be given to them, Amen did not deign
to appear to them, save afterwards in a dream. Will you dare more than
they? Lie down and dream, O Star of the Morning.”
“Nay, I trust no dreams which change like summer clouds and pass as
soon,” answered the girl boldly. “If the god is my father, in the spirit
or the flesh, I know not which, let him appear before me face to face.
I ask his wisdom for myself and his favour for another. Call him, if you
have the power, Asti. Call him even if he slay me. Better that I should
die than----”
“Hush!” said Asti, laying her hand upon her lips, “speak not that name.
Well, I have some skill, and for your sake--and another’s--I will try,
but not here. Perchance he may listen, perchance not, or, perchance, if
he comes you and I must pay the price. Put on your robes, now, O Queen,
and over them this veil, and follow me--if you dare.”
Along narrow passages they crept and down many a secret-stair, till at
length they came to a door at the foot of a long slope of rock.
This door Asti unlocked and thrust open, then when they had entered,
re-locked it behind them.
“What is this place?” whispered Tua.
“The burial crypt of the high priestesses of Amen, where it is said that
the god watches. None have entered it for hard on thirty years. See here
in the dust run the footsteps of those who bore the last priestess to
her rest.”
She held up her lamp, and by the light of it Tua saw that they were in a
great cave painted with figures of the gods which had on either side of
it recesses. In each of these was set a coffin with a gilded face, and
behind it an alabaster statue of her who lay therein, and in front of
it a table of offerings. At the head of the crypt stood a small altar of
black stone, for the rest the place was empty.
Asti led Tua to a step in front of the altar and bidding her kneel,
departed with the lamp which she hid away in some side chapel, so that
now the darkness was intense. Presently, through the utter silence, Tua
heard her creep back towards her, for although she walked so softly the
dust seemed to cry beneath her feet, and her every footstep echoed round
the vaulted walls. Moreover, a glow came from her, the glow of her life
in that place of death. She passed Tua and knelt by the altar and the
echo of her movements died away. Only it seemed to Tua that from each of
the tombs to the right and to the left rose the Ka of her who was buried
there, and drew near to watch and listen. She could not see them, she
could not hear them, yet she knew that they were there and was able to
count their number--thirty and two in all--while within herself rose
a picture of them, each differing from the other, but all white,
expectant, solemn.
Now Tua heard Asti murmuring secret invocations that she did not
understand. In that place and silence they sounded weird and dreadful,
and as she hearkened to them, for the first time fear crept over her.
Kneeling there upon her knees she bent her head almost to the dust
and put up prayers to Amen that he might be pleased to hear her and to
satisfy the longings of her heart. She prayed and prayed till she grew
faint and weary, while always Asti uttered her invocations. But no
answer came, no deity appeared, no voice spoke. At length Asti rose, and
coming to her, whispered in her ear:
“Let us depart ere the watching spirits, whose rest we have broken, grow
wrath with us. The god has shut his ears.”
So Tua rose, clinging to Asti, for now, she knew not why, her fear grew
and deepened. For a moment she stood upon her feet, then sank to her
knees again, for there at the far end of the great tomb, near to the
door by which they had entered, appeared a glow upon the darkness.
Slowly it took form, the form of a woman clad in the royal robes of
Egypt, and bearing in its hand a sceptre. The figure of light advanced
towards them, so that presently they saw its face. Tua did not know the
face, though it seemed to her to be like her own, but Asti knew it, and
at the sight sank to the ground.
Now the figure stood in front of them, a thing of light framed in the
thick darkness, and now in a sweet, low voice it spoke.
“Hail! Queen of Egypt,” it said. “Hail! Neter-Tua, Daughter of Amen. Art
thou afraid to look on the spirit of her who bore thee, thou that didst
dare to summon the Father of the gods to do thy bidding?”
“I am afraid,” answered Tua, shaking in all her limbs.
“And thou, Asti the Magician, art thou afraid also, who but now wast
bold enough to cry to Amen-Ra--‘Come from thy high heaven and make
answer’?”
“It is even so, O Queen Ahura,” murmured Asti.
“Woman,” went on the voice, “thy sin is great, and great is the sin of
this royal one at thy side. Had Amen hearkened, how would the two of you
have stood before his glory, who at the sight of this shape of mine that
once was mortal like yourselves, crouch choking to the earth? I tell
you both that had the god arisen, as in your wickedness ye willed,
there where ye knelt, there ye would have died. But he who knows all is
merciful, and in his place has sent me his messenger that ye may live to
look upon to-morrow’s sun.”
“Let Amen pardon us!” gasped Tua, “it was my sin, O Mother, for I
commanded Asti and she obeyed me. On me be the blame, not on her, for I
am torn with doubts and fears, for myself and for another. I would know
the future.”
“Why, O Queen Neter-Tua, why wouldst thou know the future? If hell yawns
beneath thy feet, why wouldst thou peep through its golden doors before
the time? The future is hid from mortals because, could they pierce its
veil, it would crush them with its terrors. If all the woes of life and
death lay open the gaze, who would dare to live and who--oh! who could
dare to die?”
“Then woes await me, O thou who wast my mother?”
“How can it be otherwise? Light and darkness make the day, joy and
sorrow make the life. Thou art human, be content.”
“Divine also, O Ahura, if all tales be true.”
“Then pay for thy divinity in tears and be satisfied. Content is the
guerdon of the beast, but gods are wafted upwards on the wings of pain.
How can that gold be pure which has not known the fire?”
“Thou tellest me nothing,” wailed Tua, “and it is not for myself I ask.
I am fair, I am Amen’s daughter, and splendid is my heritage. Yet, O
Dweller in Osiris, thou who once didst fill the place I hold to-day, I
tell thee that I would pay away this pomp, could I but be sure that I
shall not live loveless, that I shall not be given as a chattel to one
whom I hate, that one--whom I do not hate--will live to call me--wife.
Great dangers threaten him--and me, Amen is mighty; he is the potter
that moulds the clay of men; if I be his child, if his spirit is
breathed into me, oh! let him help me now.”
“Let thine own faith help thee. Are not the words of Amen, which he
spake concerning thee, written down? Study them and ask no more. Love
is an arrow that does not miss its mark; it is the immortal fire from on
high which winds and waters cannot quench. Therefore love on. Thou shalt
not love in vain. Queen and Daughter, fare thee well awhile.”
“Nay, nay, one word, Immortal. I thank thee, thou Messenger of the
gods, but when these troubles come upon me--and another, when the sea
of dangers closes o’er our heads, when shame is near and I am lonely, as
well may chance, then to whom shall I turn for succour?”
“Then thou hast one within thee who is strong to aid. It was given to
thee at thy birth, O Star of Amen, and Asti can call it forth. Come
hither, thou Asti, and swiftly, for I must be gone, and first I would
speak with thee.”
Asti crept forward, and the glowing shape in the royal robe bent over
her so that the light of it shone upon her face. It bent over her and
seemed to whisper in her ear. Then it held out its hands towards Tua as
though in blessing, and instantly was not.
Once more the two women stood in Tua’s chamber. Pale and shaken they
looked into each other’s eyes.
“You have had your will, Queen,” said Asti; “for if Amen did not come,
he sent a messenger, and a royal one.”
“Interpret me this vision,” answered Tua, “for to me, at any rate, that
Spirit said little.”
“Nay, it said much. It said that love fails not of its reward, and what
more went you out to seek?”
“Then I am glad,” exclaimed Tua joyfully.
“Be not too glad, Queen, for to-night we have sinned, both of us, who
dared to summon Amen from his throne, and sin also fails not of its
reward. Blood is the price of that oracle.”
“Whose blood, Asti? Ours?”
“Nay, worse, that of those who are dear to us. Troubles arise in Egypt,
Queen.”
“You will not leave me when they break, Asti?”
“I may not if I would. The Fates have bound us together till the end,
and that I think is far away. I am yours as once you were mine when you
lay upon my breast, but bid me no more to summon Amen from his throne.”