“My God!” Djedef thought. “The horrendous hour has come that my soul has always desired, that I have always pictured in my happiest dreams.” Yet, ever an intrepid lad, he did not lose his nerve even in the most daunting situations.
“My lord,” he said, “what I did in those two instances was the duty of any soldier, so I do not ask that you grant them any reward. Yet I do have a wish, that I present as one hoping for the compassion of his king.”
“What is your wish?”
“The divinities, sire, in their ineffable wisdom, have summoned my ordinary human heart to the heavens of my sire the king, where it clings to the feet of Princess Meresankh!”
Pharaoh peered at him strangely. “But what have the gods wrought in the heart of the Princess?” he asked.
Mortified, Djedef took refuge in a heavy silence.
The king smiled.
“They say that a servant never enters the sanctuary of the Lord unless he is sure to bring him contentment,” he said. “We shall see whether or not this is true!”
Khufu was pleased, and as though for a bit of entertainment, he sent for Princess Meresankh. At her father's summons, the princess came gliding in the glory of her loveliness. When she saw the one she loved standing before him, her being throbbed with shyness and confusion, as she balked like a gazelle that had chanced upon a man.
Pharaoh gazed at her with sympathy, saying to her tenderly, but sarcastically, as well, “O Princess! This commander boasts that he has conquered two fortresses: the wall of Sinai — and your heart!”
“My lord!” Djedef called out, in shocked entreaty.
But he was unable to say more and so kept quiet, defeated and dismayed. Khufu looked at the commander, whose bravery had betrayed him. He looked at the princess, whose arrogance had deserted her, weakened by bewilderment and timidity. His heart went out to her, as he called her to his side. Then he called Djedef to him, as well, and the youth drew near in dreadful fear.
The king laid the hand of the princess into Djedef's hand with slow deliberation, and said in his most awesome voice, which made hearts shiver, “I bless you both in the name of the gods.”
31
In the twelve hours immediately following his fortuitous audience with Pharaoh, Djedef experienced great and peculiar events that shook souls to their core and shattered minds completely. In what had fleetingly seemed the promise of a serene, carefree life, they came like the turbulence of a cataract in the stately, majestic course of the Nile.
What did Djedef do during this brief interlude, so full of strange occurrences?
Upon leaving the Pharaonic presence, he requested a meeting with the vizier Hemiunu, whom he briefed on the subject of the unlucky Egyptian lady that he held prisoner, and who was never out of his thoughts. The kindly vizier cleared the way, discharging her to the commander's care.
“I congratulate you, my lady,” said Djedef, “for the return of your freedom after being so long in captivity. As the hour is late, you shall stay as my guest until tomorrow, then you will set your face in the direction of On, in the protection of the gods.”
She seized his hand and kissed it with great thankfulness, then raised up her face, and her tears were flowing over her cheeks and her neck. He accompanied the woman as they walked to his chariot, where he saw Sennefer awaiting him close by. Saluting Djedef, the officer told him, “His Pharaonic Highness Prince Khafra has charged me to inform the commander of his wish to speak with him right away.”
Djedef asked him, “Where is His Highness now?”
“In his palace.”
Djedef took Sennefer and the woman together in his chariot to the crown prince's palace. When they arrived, he asked the lady to wait for him where she was. Then he went into the palace with Sennefer behind him. He asked to see the prince, and was invited into his chamber. He found the young man not as he usually was, but intensely disturbed, trying to gain control of himself. This time, Khafra did not bother to return his salute, but blurted instead, “Commander Djedef, I always remember your faithfulness when you saved me from certain death. I expect that you also remember my generosity to you, — when you were a low-ranking soldier, and I made you into a great commander — crowning your head — with everlasting glory.”
“I remember this, and I do not ever forget it,” Djedef declared earnestly. “It is impossible for me to forget the blessings of My Lord the Prince.”
“I'm in need of your faithfulness at this moment,” said the heir apparent, “to do what is ordered, and to follow my instructions without the least hesitation. Commander, do not grant leave to your army tonight. Instead, keep the soldiers where they're encamped outside the walls of Memphis, Wait for my orders, which will come to you at daybreak. Take care not to balk at carrying them out, no matter how strange they may seem. Always remember that the courageous soldier flies like an arrow toward his goal, without questioning the one who launched it.”
“I hear and obey, Your Highness,” said Djedef.
“Then wait at the camp for my messengers at dawn, and be careful not to forget my instructions.”
The prince said this, then stood up to signal that the meeting was finished. Djedef bowed to His Highness and left the room — astounded, distracted, and confused by his bizarre command. “Why,” he said to himself, “did the prince order me to keep the army in its encampment? What could these strange commands possibly be that the messengers will bring to me at dawn? What kind of enemy threatens the nation? What sort of insurrection menaces her security? Every Egyptian goes about his business peacefully under the protection of Pharaoh and his government. So why does he need the army?”
Nervously he returned to his chariot and took off in it, the lady with him. But the closer the vehicle came to Bisharu's house, the lighter seemed his uncertainty as his inner whisperings fled and his mind turned toward his family who had been awaiting him so long with great expectation. Reaching the house, he showed the lady to the guest room, then went up to be with the dearly loved people whom he also had so much longed to see.
His mother Zaya met him — with open arms. She rained kisses upon him as she pressed him to her breast — with fervor, not letting him go until Bisharu pried him loose from her grip, saying, “Welcome, O conquering scion! The courageous commander!”
He kissed him on the cheeks and forehead, then his brothers, Kheny and Nafa, embraced him, as well. He greeted Nafa's wife, who was carrying a nursing baby boy in her arms. She presented him to Djedef, saying, “Look at your namesake, Little Djedef! I gave him your name so that perhaps the gods will grant him glory, like his mighty uncle!”
Djedef looked at Nafa as he held the little one in his arms, then kissed his baby-soft lips, saying to his brother, “What a beautiful portrait he'd make!”
Nafa smiled — his son made him happy the same way his art did — and he took him in his arms. At that moment, Djedef found the opportunity to announce the great news of his engagement. “You won't be the only father, Nafa!”
They all awoke to what he had said, as Nafa called out with joy, “Have you chosen your partner, Commander?”
Djedef lowered his head. “Yes,” he said.
His mother stared at him with ecstatic eyes. “Is it true what you say, my son?”
Quietly he answered, “Yes, my mother.”
“Who is she?” she shouted.
Mana, spellbound, asked as well, “Who is she?”
“You have just come from the field of battle,” laughed Nafa. “Did you woo one of the captives?”
“She is Her Highness Meresankh,” he said, calmly and with pride.
“Meresankh! Pharaoh's daughter?”
“She, and none other.”
Utterly astonished, they were seized by an overpowering happiness that rendered them speechless. Djedef
