The governor of Thebes was at the forefront of the zealous ones. He rose to his feet, bowed his head in salute, and said, “My lord, it is a solemn dispatch indeed. The only answer is a summons to mobilization.”
His words found an enthusiastic welcome in the hearts of the governors, and the governor of Ambus stood up and said, “I second that opinion, my lord. There is only one answer and that is swift mobilization. How otherwise when beyond the southern borders our valiant brethren are sorely beset by the enemy? And though they are steadfast, we should not forsake them nor tarry in their aid.”
Ani was thinking about the consequences that might encroach upon his sphere of influence. He said, “If those barbarians lay waste to the land of Nubia they will threaten the border without a doubt.”
The governor of Thebes recalled an old opinion he had long hoped would one day be vindicated: “I was always of the opinion, my lord, that the kingdom maintain a large and permanent army that would enable Pharaoh to undertake his commitments in defending the well-being of the motherland and our possessions beyond the borders.”
Ardor grew strong in all the commanders’ flanks, with many calling for mobilization. Others hailed Prince Kaneferu and the Nubian garrison. Some of the governors were sorely moved and said to the king, “My lord, it gives us no pleasure to celebrate the festival while death bears down upon our valiant brethren. Give us permission to depart and muster our men at arms.”
Pharaoh remained silent in order to hear what the priests might say. These latter too took recourse to silence while spirits calmed, and when the hubbub in the ranks of the governors had finally died down, the high priest of Ptah rose to his feet and, with remarkable composure, said, “Would my lord grant me permission to pose a question to the emissary of His Majesty Prince Kaneferu?”
“You have my permission, priest,” said the king stiffly.
The high priest of Ptah turned toward the emissary and said, “When did you quit the lands of Nubia?”
“Two weeks since,” replied the man.
“And when did you reach Abu?”
“Yesterday evening.”
The high priest turned to face Pharaoh and said, “Revered and worshipful king, this matter is indeed most confusing, for this venerable messenger came to us yesterday from the South bearing news that the leaders of the Maasayu had rebelled, and yet that same yesterday a delegation of Maasayu elders arrived from the farthest reaches of the South to proffer the obligatory rites of obedience to their lord Pharaoh, and to offer to your Highness their profound gratitude for the bounty and peace you have bestowed upon them. How pressing therefore is our need of one who can shed some light upon this mystery.”
It was a bizarre declaration, and one that no one had expected. It provoked great amazement and wonder. All heads were convulsed by a violent commotion while the governors and priests exchanged questioning and unruly looks, and the princes whispered amongst themselves. Sofkhatep was struck dumb and he gazed at his lord in utter dismay. He saw Pharaoh's hand tighten its grip upon his staff, and clench it so firmly that the veins bulged on his forearm and the color drained from his face. The man was afraid that anger had taken control of the king so he asked the high priest, “Who informed you of this, Your Holiness?”
“I saw them with my own eyes, my Lord Prime Minister,” replied the man softly. “I visited the temple of Sothis yesterday and its priest presented to me a delegation of black men who said they were Maasayu chiefs and had come to perform the rites of obedience to Pharaoh. They stayed the night as guests of the high priest.”
“Is it not the case that they are from Nubia?” said Sofkhatep, but the high priest was adamant. “They said they were Maasayu. In any event, there is a man here among us — he is Commander Tahu — who has clashed with the Maasayu in many wars and knows all their headmen. If Your Majesty would be so gracious as to order that these chiefs be summoned to his sacred court, then perhaps their testimony will remove the veil of confusion from our eyes.”
The king was in a pronounced state of dread and rage, yet he had not the slightest inkling how to forestall the high priest's proposal. He felt all faces scrutinizing him with anxious expectation as they waited in suspense, and at length he said to one of the chamberlains, “Go to the temple of Sothis and call the visiting chiefs.”
The chamberlain departed obediently and all waited, utterly still with consternation drawn on every face, as each man stifled a heartfelt desire to question his neighbor and listen to his thoughts. Sofkhatep remained alarmed and apprehensive, as thoughts raced incessantly through his mind and he snatched worried and bewildered glances from his lord, with whom he sympathized deeply in this dreadful hour. The minutes passed, ponderous and agonizing, as if they were being torn from their very flesh. From his throne the king surveyed the restless governors and the priests, who sat heads bowed. His eyes were barely able to conceal the emotions doing battle in his heart. Then all imagined they heard a commotion borne upon the air from afar. Each man emerged from his inner dialogue and pricked up his ears as the hubbub neared the square outside the palace. It was the clamor of voices cheering and hailing, which as they drew nearer, grew steadily louder and more intense until they seemed to fill the hall, all mingling together, none distinguishable above the rest, yet still the long palace courtyard stood between them and the assembled grandees. The king ordered one of the chamberlains to step onto the balcony and ascertain the cause of the disturbance. The man disappeared for a moment then hastily returned, and, inclining toward Pharaoh's ear, said, “Throngs of the populace are filling the square, surrounding the chariots which come bearing the chieftains.”
“And what is their call?”
“They are saluting the loyal friends from the South and the peace treaty.”
Then the man wavered for a moment before continuing in a whisper, “And, my lord, they are hailing the treaty-maker, Khnumhotep.”
The king's face paled with indignation, and he felt some great malice driving him into a corner as he wondered how he could call a people who were feting the Maasayu chieftains and hailing the peace treaty, to go to war with the very same Maasayu. He awaited the approaching dignitaries with a growing sense of exasperation, despair, and gloom.
An officer of the guard announced the arrival of the leaders, and the door was thrown wide open. The delegation entered, preceded by their headman. There — were ten of them, strapping of form, naked except for a loincloth girded about their waists, and on their heads wreaths of leaves. Together they prostrated themselves on the ground and crawled forward until they reached the threshold of the throne where they kissed the ground in front of Pharaoh. The king held out his staff to them and each man put his lips to it in submission. The king granted them permission to stand and they rose to their feet in awe, whereupon their leader said in the Egyptian tongue, “Sacred Lord, Pharaoh of Egypt, Deity of the Tribes, we have come to your abode that we might offer to you the manifestations of humiliation and subjugation, and to give praise for the favor and blessings you have bestowed upon us, for thanks to your mercy, we have eaten delicious food and we have drunk sweet and fragrant water.”
Pharaoh raised his hand in benediction.
All faces were turned to him, willing him to ask them some news of their land. “From which clans are you?” asked the vanquished king.
“O Sacred Splendor,” said the man, “we are chieftains of the Maasayu tribes who pray for your splendor and glory.”
The king was silent awhile, and declined to ask them anything about their followers. He had had enough of the place and those in it and said, “Pharaoh thanks you, loyal and faithful slaves, and blesses you.”
He extended his staff and they kissed it once again. Then they retraced their steps, their forms bent double so that their foreheads almost touched the floor.
Anger flared up in Pharaoh's breast, and he sensed a painful realization in his heart that the clergy arrayed before him had struck him a mortal blow in some arcane battle that only he and they could comprehend. His wrath welled up inside him and his rage overflowed as he fumed at his defeat and said in a peremptory tone, “I have here an epistle whose veracity is unassailed by doubt, and whether the rebellious tribes pay homage to these men or not, one thing remains certain: there is a revolt, there are insurgents, and our troops are surrounded.”
The governors’ enthusiasm returned unabated, and the governor of Thebes said, “My lord, it is divine wisdom that flows upon your tongue. Our brethren await reinforcements. We should not waste our time in discussion when the truth is staring us in the face.”
“Governors,” said the king vehemently, “I exempt you this day from participating in the celebration of the Nile festival, for before you lies a more sublime duty. Return to your provinces and muster men-at-arms, for every
