Pharaoh's praise and the grandeur of his celebration. But Prince Khafra was not pleased with the psychological changes in the king.
“Because, my lord,” he said, “we fete today the blessing of the greatest technical accomplishment in the long annals of Egypt.”
Laughing, Khufu replied, “Do you mean my tomb, O Prince? Is it right for a person to exult over the construction of his grave?”
“Long may the God keep our lord among us,” Khafra said, adding, “Glorious work merits rejoicing and recognition.”
“Yes, yes — but if it reminds one of death, then there must also be a bit of sadness.”
“It reminds us of immortality, my lord,” said Mirabu, with passion.
“Do not forget, Mirabu,” said Pharaoh, smiling, “that I am an admirer of your work. But the intimation of one's mortality fills the soul with grief. Yes, I do not dwell on what has inspired your magisterial monument with deathless profundity — rather, on the fact that immortality is itself a death for our dear, ephemeral lives.”
Here Hemiunu interjected with staidness, reflection, and faith, “My lord, the tomb is the threshold to perpetual existence.”
To this, the king replied, “I believe you, Hemiunu. Yet the coming journey requires considerable preparation — especially since it is eternal. But do not think that Pharaoh has any fear or regret — no, no, no — I am simply astonished by this millstone that keeps on turning and turning, grinding up kings and commoners alike each day.”
Prince Khafra was growing annoyed — with the king's philosophizing. “My lord spends too much time thinking,” he said.
Knowing his son's nature, Pharaoh answered, “Perhaps, Prince, this doesn't please you.”
“Forgive me, sire,” said Khafra. “But the truth is that contemplation is the task of the sages. As for those whom the gods submit to the tribulations of rule, it's no wonder that they seek to shun such difficult matters.”
“Are you insinuating that I have toppled into the abyss of old age?” Khufu questioned him, jeeringly.
The companions grew alarmed. But the prince was the most alarmed of all. “The Lord forbid, my father!” he blurted.
Derisively, but with a strong voice, the king replied, “Calm yourself, O Khafra. Know that your father will retain his grip on authority with an iron hand.”
“Then I am entitled, my lord,” said Khafra, “to be gratified, though I have heard nothing new.”
“Or do you think that the king is not a king unless he declares a war?” Khufu asked.
Prince Khafra was always pointing out to his father that he should send an army to chastise the tribes of Sinai. He grasped what Pharaoh was getting at, and was taken aback for a moment.
Hemiunu seized on this momentary silence. “Peace is more manly than war for the strong, upright king,” he said.
The prince rejoined in a forceful tone that bespoke the hardness and cruelty traced upon his face, “But the king must not allow a policy of peace to prevent him from making war when the need to fight is serious!”
“I see that you're still dwelling on this ancient subject,” Khufu remarked.
“Yes, sire,” said Khafra, “nor will I desist till my view is accepted — for the tribes of Sinai are corrupting the land: they threaten the government's prestige.”
“The tribes of Sinai! The tribes of Sinai!” Khufu bellowed. “The police are enough for now to take care of their little bands. As for dispatching the army to raid their strongholds, I feel that the conditions are not yet right for that. Note that the nation has just borne the immense effort that it undertook so benevolently in order to build Mirabu's pyramid. But there shall soon come a time when I will put an end to their evil, and I will protect the nation from their aggression.”
A silence swept over them for a few moments, then the king ran his gaze back and forth among those present. “I have invited you this evening,” he said, “to reveal to you the overwhelming desire that beats within my breast.”
They all peered at him in fascination as he said, “This morning I asked myself, ‘What have I done for the sake of Egypt, and what has Egypt done for my sake?’ I will not conceal the truth from you, my friends — I found that what the people have done for me is double that which I have done for them. This to me was painful, and these days I have been very much in pain. I remembered the adored sovereign Mina, who endowed the nation with its sacred unity — yet the homeland gave him only a fraction of what it has granted me. So I humbled myself, and swore to repay the people for their goodness with goodness, and for their beauty with even more beauty.”
Moved, Commander Arbu objected, “His Majesty the King has been harsh with himself in this accounting.”
Ignoring Arbu's remark, Khufu resumed, “Though they aspire to be just and fair, monarchs are often oppressive. Though anxious to promote goodness and well being, they also do a great deal of harm. And with what deed, other than immortal good works, can they repent for their transgressions and expiate their sins? Thus, my pain has guided me to an immense and benevolent undertaking.”
His companions gazed at him wonderingly, so he went on, “I am thinking, gentlemen, of composing a great book, in which I shall combine the proofs of wisdom and the secrets of medicine, with which I have been deeply enamored since childhood.
In this way, I would leave behind me a lasting influence upon the people of Egypt, guiding their souls and protecting their bodies.”
Mirabu shouted with boundless joy, “What a marvelous labor, my lord, by which you shall govern the people of Egypt forever!”
Pharaoh smiled at the architect, who reiterated, “One more will be added to our holy books.”
Prince Khafra, weighing in his mind what the king wished to do, said, “But my lord, this is a project that will take many long years.”
Arbu joined in his dissent, “It took Kagemni all of two decades to write his tome!”
But Pharaoh simply shrugged his broad shoulders. “I will devote to it what remains of my life,” he said.
After a moment's silence, he asked, “Do you know, gentlemen, the place where I have chosen to compose my book, night after night?”
Khufu looked into their puzzled faces, then told them, “The burial chamber in the pyramid that we feted today.”
Surprise and disbelief showing in their expressions, the king continued, “In worldly palaces the tumult of this fleeting life prevails. They are not suitable for creating a work destined for eternity!”
And with this, the audience ended — for Pharaoh did not like discussion when he had already fixed upon a final opinion. So his friends withdrew, during which time the heir apparent rode in his chariot along with his chief chamberlain, telling him with intense agitation, “The king prefers poetry to power!”
As for Khufu, he made his way to the palace of Queen Meritites, finding her in her chamber with the young Princess Meresankh, sister of Khafra, who was not yet more than ten years old. The princess flew toward him like a dove, happiness flashing in her lovely dark eyes. At the sight of Meresankh — she of the face like a full moon, with a golden brown complexion and eyes that could cure sickness with their cheer — Pharaoh could not help but smile lovingly. And so, his breast relieved of all sorrows and concerns, he greeted her with open arms.
14
An air of delight stirred — within Bisharu's palace that night. Signs of it were plain in the laughing faces of both Zaya and Nafa — and that of the inspector himself. Even Gamurka seemed to sense that something good was coming, feeling deep inside that he should rejoice, for he raced around barking, rushing back and forth in the garden like a reckless arrow in flight.
They were all waiting expectantly, when suddenly they heard a clamor from without — as the loud voice of the servant cried out ecstatically, “My young lord!” At this, Zaya leaped to her feet and ran toward the staircase, flowing down the steps without looking left or right. And at the end of the entrance hall she saw Djedef in his white uniform and military headdress, shimmering like the rays of the sun. She threw wide her arms to embrace him —
