drank a cup of fine vintage Maryut. But hardly had she relaxed on her couch than Shayth came running into the room without knocking. Rhadopis glared at her. “There is a strange man in the hall. He insists on meeting you,” said the frightened slave.
“Have you gone completely mad?” cried Rhadopis in anger. “Have you joined forces against me with that bunch of tiresome men?”
“Be patient a moment, my lady,” urged Shayth as she gasped for breath. “I showed out all the guests. This man is a stranger. I have not set eyes on him before. I stumbled upon him in the corridor leading to the hall. I do not know where he came from. I tried to block his way but he would not be swayed. He ordered me to inform you of his request.”
Rhadopis looked gravely at her slave for a moment. “Is he an officer from the royal guard?” she asked with interest.
“No, mistress. He does not wear the uniform of an officer. I asked him to tell me who he was, but he just shrugged his shoulders. I insisted you would not be receiving anyone today but he set little store by my words. He ordered me to inform you that he was waiting. Oh dear, my lady. I would have you think well of me, but he was insistent and audacious. I could find no way to deter him.”
She wondered if it was an emissary from the king. Her heart missed a beat at the very thought, and her chest heaved. She ran to the mirror and inspected herself, then she twirled on the tips of her toes, her face still fixed on the mirror. “What do you see, Shayth?” she asked the slave.
“I see Rhadopis, my lady,” replied Shayth, amazed at the change that had come over her mistress.
Rhadopis left the bedchamber, leaving her bewildered slave in a daze. She floated like a dove from room to room and then descended the stairs, which were covered in sumptuous carpets. Then, pausing a moment at the entrance to the hall, she spotted a man with his back to her, his face toward the wall as he read the poetry of Ramon Hotep. Who could it be? He was as tall as Tahu but slimmer and more delicate, broad-shouldered, with beautiful legs. Across his back was a sash encrusted with jewels hanging down between his shoulders as far as his waist, and on his head he wore a beautiful tall helmet in the shape of a pyramid that did not look like the headgear of the priests. Who was it? He did not know she was there because her feet made no noise on the thick carpet. When she was only a few steps from him, she said, “My lord?”
The stranger turned to look at her.
“O Lord,” she gasped, as she realized she was standing face-to-face — with Pharaoh. Pharaoh himself in all his divine glory. Merenra the Second, none other.
The surprise shook her to the core and she was totally overcome. She thought for a second it might be a dream, but there was no mistaking the dark face, the fine proud nose. She could never forget him. She had seen him twice before and he had found his way into her memory and engraved upon its tablet deep impressions that would never fade. But she had not reckoned on this meeting. She had not prepared for it or drawn up one of her ingenious plans. Here was Rhadopis meeting Pharaoh, completely out of the blue, when she had prepared herself to receive merchants from Nubia. She was taken unawares, overwhelmed, totally defeated, and for the first time in her life, she bowed and said, “Your Majesty.”
His eyes surveyed her intently, then settled on her gorgeous face, and he noticed her bemusement with a strange pleasure, as he watched the magic effusing seductively from her features. When she greeted him, he spoke to her in a voice possessed of clear tones and refined accent. “Do you know who I am?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she said in her sweet musical voice. “It was my happy fortune to see you yesterday.”
He could not look at her face enough, and he began to feel a drowsy numbness come over his senses and his mind, and he no longer paid heed to his will. “Kings have authority over people,” he began suddenly. “They watch over their souls, and their belongings. That is why I have come to you, to bring back something precious that came into my possession.”
The king put his hand under the sash and pulled out the sandal. “Is this not your sandal?” he said as he handed it to her.
Her eyes followed Pharaoh's hand and watched incredulously as the sandal appeared from under the sash. “My sandal,” she stammered.
The king laughed kindly, and without taking his eyes off her, said, “Yours, Rhadopis. That is your name, is it not?”
She lowered her head, and mumbled, “Yes, Your Majesty.” She was nervous and did not say more. Pharaoh went on, “It is a beautiful sandal. The most wonderful thing about it is the picture engraved on the inside of its sole. I thought it a beautiful illustration until I set eyes on you, for now I have beheld true beauty, and I have learned a higher truth as well, that beauty, like fate, takes people unawares in ways of which they have never conceived.”
She clasped her hands together and said, “My lord, I never dreamed that you would honor my palace with your presence. And as for the fact that you would bear my sandal… Lord, what can I say? I have lost my mind. Please forgive me, my lord. I forgot myself and left you standing.”
She rushed over to her throne and, pointing to it, bowed respectfully, but he chose a comfortable couch and sat down upon it. “Come here, Rhadopis. Sit next to me,” he said.
The courtesan approached until she stood in front of him, struggling to overcome her perturbation and surprise. He took her wrist in his hand, it was the first time he had touched her, and sat her down next to him. Her heart beat wildly. She put the sandal to one side and lowered her eyes. She forgot that she was Rhadopis, the one they all worshipped, who dallied with the hearts of men as she pleased. The shock had taken her completely unawares — the divine incarnation had shaken her to the core, as if a blazing light had suddenly been shone into her eyes, and she cowered like a virgin resisting her man for the first time. But then her awesome beauty entered the fray, unbeknownst to her, stronghearted and supremely confident, and shed its enchanting radiance on the astonished eyes of the king, as the sun shines its silver rays on a sleeping plant, arousing it from its slumber to glisten enchantingly. Rhadopis's beauty was overpowering and irresistible, it burned whomever came near it, sowing madness in his mind and filling his breast with a desire that could never be quenched or satisfied.
There could not have been two people on that immortal night — Rhadopis stumbling in her confusion, and the king lost in her beauty — more in need of the mercy of the gods in all the world.
The king, desperate to hear her voice, asked her, “Why do you not ask how the sandal came into my hands?”
“Your presence has made me forget all matters, my lord,” she said anxiously.
He smiled. “How did you lose it?”
The tenderness in his voice soothed her fears. “A falcon flew off with it — while I — was bathing.”
The king sighed and looked up, as if he was reading the inscriptions on the ceiling, and closed his eyes to imagine the enchanting scene; Rhadopis, the water lapping against her naked body, and the falcon swooping down from the sky to carry off her sandal. She heard his breath, and felt it caress her cheek, and he looked once more at her face. “The falcon flew away — with it and carried it to me,” he said passionately. “What a wonderful story it is! But I — wonder incredulously, I might never have set eyes on you if the gods had not sent to me this noble and generous falcon. What a tragic thought! I think deep inside that it must have been too much for the falcon that I did not know you when you were only an arm's length away from me, so he threw the sandal at me to rouse me from my indifference.”
She was amazed. “Did the falcon throw the sandal into your hands, my lord?”
“Yes, Rhadopis. That is the beauty of the story.”
“What a coincidence. It is like magic.”
“Are you saying that it is a coincidence, Rhadopis? Then what is coincidence if not our determined fate?”
She sighed and said, “You speak truly, my lord. It is like one who knows but seems not to.”
“I will announce my desire to all and sundry, that not one person of my people shall ever do harm to a falcon.”
Rhadopis smiled a happy, enchanting smile that flashed in her mouth like a magic spell. The king felt a burning desire consume his heart. It was not his habit to resist an emotion and he succumbed with obvious enthusiasm, saying, “He is the only creature to whom I will be indebted for the most precious thing in my life, Rhadopis. How beautiful you are. Your loveliness renders all my dreams worthless.”
