minute that is lost shall cost us dear.”
With these words the king rose to his feet, thereby indicating the termination of the assembly. All rose at once and bowed their heads in reverence.
The shout in the crowd
Pharaoh made for his private — wing and summoned his two loyal men, Sofkhatep and Tahu, to join him. They — were quick to oblige, for they — were severely shaken by what had happened, and under no illusion whatsoever as to the gravity of the situation. They found the king as they had expected, furious and enraged, pacing the room from wall to wall as he ranted insanely. Suddenly aware of them, he cast them a sidelong glance, and said, with sparks flying from beneath his eyelids, “Treason. I smell foul treason in this nasty air.”
Tahu stalled, then said, “My lord, while I do not deny on my part a certain pessimism and misgiving, my intuition would not go as far as such a grand supposition.”
The king went berserk, stamping his foot on the ground, shouting, “Why did that damned delegation turn up? And how did they come today? Today of all days?”
Sofkhatep, immersed in his thought and woes, said, “I wonder if it might not just be an unhappy and bizarre coincidence?”
“Coincidence!” stormed the king terrifyingly. “No! No! It is wicked treason. I can almost see its face — veiled, the head deviously bowed. Nay, Prime Minister, those folk did not come by coincidence, but rather were sent here by some design to say peace if I were to say war. Thus has my enemy dealt me a severe blow, just as he stands before me professing loyalty.”
Tahu's face turned pale, and a poignant look appeared in his eyes. Sofkhatep, not contending the king's view, lowered his head in despair and said, as if he were talking to himself, “If it is treason, then who is the traitor?”
“Indeed,” said the king as he shook his fist in the air. “Who is the traitor? Is there then a mystery that cannot be unraveled? Of course there is not. I do not betray myself. Sofkhatep and Tahu would not stab me in the back. Nor would Rhadopis.
There is none left save that malicious messenger. Alas, Rhadopis is deceived.”
A glint shone in Tahu's eye as he said, “I will drag him here and wring the truth from his mouth.”
The king shook his head, saying, “Slowly, Tahu, slowly. The villain is not waiting for you to go and arrest him. Perhaps, as we speak, he is enjoying the fruits of his treachery in a safe place known only to the priests. How was the deception accomplished? I cannot think, but I will swear by the Lord Sothis that they learned of the letter before the messenger set off. Wasting no time, they sent an emissary of their own. Mine came back with the dispatch, theirs with the delegation. Treachery, villainy! I am living like a prisoner among my own people. May the gods curse the world and all mankind.”
The two men did not make a sound, out of sadness and pity. Tahu detected a look of distress in his lord's eyes and, wanting to instill some fresh hope into their dire mood, he said, “Let our consolation be that we shall strike the decisive blow.”
The king was exasperated. “And how shall we aim this blow?” he asked.
“The governors are on their way to the provinces to muster soldiers.”
“And do you imagine that the priests will stand, hands bound, before an army they know has been assembled to eradicate them?”
Sofkhatep was laboring under a formidable burden, and though he was willing to accept the king's prognosis, he wished to get the weight off his chest so he said, as if he were making a wish, “Perchance our opinion is a fallacy, and what we deem treason is no more than coincidence, and these dun clouds will scatter at the least cause.”
Pharaoh flared up again at this show of sympathy. “The image of those priests with their heads lowered still hangs in my mind. I have no doubt they harbor an awesome secret in their hearts. There is not a single reason to suspect otherwise. When the high priest rose to speak, he challenged the zeal of the governors with ease, delivering his words with unbounded confidence. Perhaps even now he is speaking with ten tongues. How despicable treason is. Merenra will not live his life at the beck and call of the clergy.”
Tahu, sorely riled at his lord's distress, said, “My lord, you have at your command a battalion of guards of strapping build, each one a match for a thousand of their men, each of whom would gladly sacrifice himself for his lord's sake.”
Pharaoh brushed him aside and, sprawling out on a sumptuous divan, surrendered to the torrid thoughts that surged through his head. Might not his hope be realized in spite of all these woes? Or would his project fail once and for all? What a historic hour in his life this was. He stood at the crossroads between glory and humiliation, power and collapse, love and loss. He had refused to yield over the estates as a matter of principle. Would he soon find himself compelled to capitulate in order to preserve his throne? Ah, that day would never come, and if it did, he would never allow himself to be abased. He would remain to his dying breath noble, glorious, and mighty. In spite of himself he let out a mournful sigh and said, “The pity of it, that treason should lie in fortune's way.”
Sofkhatep's voice put an end to his musing. “My Lord, the time of the pageant is at hand.”
Pharaoh peered at him like one roused from a deep slumber and muttered, “Is that so?” Then he stood up and strode over to the balcony, which looked out over the grand courtyard of the palace. The company of chariots stood in ranks at the ready, and in the distance, waves of clamorous revelers could be seen breaking into the square. Upon this teeming world he cast a pallid glance and returned to where he had been standing. Then he entered his chamber and disappeared for a brief time. He re-emerged wearing the leopard skin insignia of the priesthood and the double crown. All present made ready to depart but before they could make a move, a palace chamberlain entered, saluted his lord and said, “Lord Tarn, commissioner of the Abu police, requests permission to stand before his lord.”
The king and his two counselors, remarking the signs of consternation on the man's face, granted it. The chief constable saluted his lord and, with great haste and much perturbation, said, “My lord, I have come to humbly beseech your sacred personage to refrain from proceeding to the temple of the Nile.”
The two men's hearts skipped a beat as the king said anxiously, “And what has led you to make this recommendation?”
Panting heavily, the man replied, “I have this very hour arrested a large number of people who were directing malicious chants at a noble personage held in high esteem by my lord, and I fear the same chants may be repeated during the procession.”
The king's heart quivered and caldrons of rage boiled in his blood as he asked the man in a hesitating voice, “What did they say?”
The man swallowed nervously and, with some embarrassment, said, “They shouted, ‘Down with the whore! Down with her who plunders the temples!’ “
At this the king flew into a rage and cried out in a voice like thunder, “What sore affliction! I must strike the blow that will rid me of them once and for all or else my whole being will explode!”
The man went on, panic in his voice, “The miscreants resisted my men, and pitched battles took place between them and us and for a while there was chaos and disarray, at which point more evil and seditious cries went up.”
The king ground his teeth in exasperation and disgust as he asked, “What else did they say?”
The man looked down at the floor and said almost in a whisper, “The insolent villains violated one more exalted.”
“I?” said the king in disbelief.
The man fell back in silence and the color drained out of his face. Sofkhatep was unable to contain himself and cried out, “How can I believe my ears?”
And Tahu stormed, “This is a madness that cannot be imagined.”
Pharaoh laughed nervously and, with bitter rancor in his voice, said, “How did my people mention me, Tarn? Speak, man. I order you.”
The police commissioner said, “The scoundrels cried out, ‘Our king is frivolous. We want a serious king.’ “
