The governor thought, his hand playing in his thick black beard. Then he said, “Our people have grown tired of war and raiding and turned to luxury and ease. By nature they feel themselves above trading, so the only access to such costly gems is through adventurers such as you. However, I do not want to give you my decision now. Before doing that I must talk to my lord the king. I shall offer his exalted person the most beautiful of these treasures, in the hope that he may approve my opinion.”
Isfmis, elated, said, “My Lord Governor, I am keeping aside for our lord Pharaoh a costly gift that was made especially for his exalted person.”
The governor scrutinized his face for a moment and an idea that might draw him closer to his master's favor formed in his head. He said, “At the end of this month, Pharaoh celebrates the victory feast, as has been his custom for the last ten years. It may be that I can make a pleasant surprise of you and your pygmies for the sovereign and you might then present him with your gift, which no doubt befits his high standing. Tell me your name and status.”
“My lord, I am called Isfmis and I reside where my convoy is moored on the shore at the fishermen's quarters, to the south of Thebes.”
“My messengers will come to you soon.”
The youth bowed with the greatest respect and left the place followed by his slaves. The princess had been looking at his face as he spoke to the governor about his ambitions, listening to him closely, and she followed him with her gaze as he left. The traits of nobility and burgeoning comeliness in his face and form pleased her and she felt sorry that fate had made trade, and the transport of pygmies, his lot. Alas, how she wished she might come across such stature in the body of one of her own kind, who tended to obesity and shortness. Instead, she had found it in the body of a brown-skinned Egyptian who traded in pygmies. Sensing that the image of this beautiful youth was stirring up some emotion within her, she seemed to grow angry and she turned her back on the governor and his family and quit the hall.
11
Isfinis and the slaves returned in the footsteps of their guide to the garden. The stirring of a breeze from Thebes quieted his burning excitement and he breathed a deep breath that filled his breast, for he considered that the outcome of this journey of his had been a great success. At the same time, though, his mind dwelt on Princess Amenridis and summoned up the memory of her glowing face, golden hair, and scarlet lips, and of the emerald heart that dangled on her swelling bosom. Dear God! He would have to neglect to ask her for the money, so that it would remain forever both his heart and hers. He said to himself, “She is a woman raised in the lap of luxury and love who thinks, no doubt, that the whole world will do her bidding if she but crook her finger. She is bold and merry too, but her laughter is pampered and not without cruelty. She jokes with the governor and makes fun of an unknown trader, though she is not yet eighteen. If tomorrow I were to see her mounted on a steed and setting arrow to bow, I would not be surprised.”
He told himself not to surrender to thoughts of her and, to give effect to his own advice, he turned back to thoughts of his success. He thought appreciatively of Governor Khanzar. He was a mighty governor, strong and of great courage, yet kindhearted, and possibly very stupid too. He was greatly attracted to gold like the majority of his people. He had gobbled up all those gifts of gold, pearls, emeralds, rubies, animals, and poor Zolo without a word of thanks. However, it was this greed that had opened the gates to Egypt for him and brought him to the palace of the governor and would end up by bringing him soon to Pharaoh's palace. Ahmose was walking close to him, and he heard him whisper, in a barely audible voice, “Sharef!” He imagined he must be talking to him, so he turned to him and found that he was looking at an ancient man carrying a basket of flowers and walking about the garden with feeble steps. The old man heard the voice calling him and he looked all around him, searching with his weak eyes for who was calling him. However, Ahmose shunned him and turned his back on him. Isfinis was astonished and threw a questioning look at Ahmose, but the young man lowered his gaze and did not say a word.
They reached the ship and went on board, and found Latu waiting for them, great concern showing on his pale face. Isfinis smiled and said, “We succeeded, through the kindness of the Lord Amun.”
The anchor was raised, the oars moved, and Isfinis had drawn close to Latu and was telling him all that had been said at the interview, when his words were interrupted by the sound of weeping. They turned toward its source and saw Ahmose leaning on the railing of the ship sobbing like a child. His appearance startled them and Isfinis remembered his strange behavior in the garden. He went up to him, followed by Latu, and, putting his hand on his shoulder, he said to him, “Ahmose, why are you crying?”
The boy did not answer, however, or give any sign he had heard a word of what was said. Instead, he surrendered himself to his tears in a transport of sorrow that rendered him oblivious to all else. Disturbed, the two men gathered round him, took him to the cabin, and sat him down between them, while Isfinis brought him a cup of water and said, “Why are you crying, Ahmose? Do you know that old man whom you called Sharef ?”
Ahmose replied, shaking with the force of his tears, “How could I not know him? How could I not know him?”
Isfinis asked him in amazement, “Who is he? And why are you crying so?”
Sorrow shook Ahmose out of his silence and he gave vent to everything that was inside him, saying, “Ah, Lord Isfinis, this palace that I entered as one of your servants is my father's!”
Isfinis registered astonishment, while Latu peered at the youth's face with keen interest as he resumed his speech, absorbed in the throes of his sorrow, “This palace that Governor Khanzar has usurped is the cradle of my childhood and the playground of my youth. Between its high walls, my poor mother spent the days of her youth and ease in the protective arms of my father, before the disaster befell the land of Egypt and the invaders’ feet trod the sacred soil of Thebes.”
“Who then -was your father, Ahmose?”
“My father -was the commander of the army of our martyred sovereign Seqenenra.”
Latu said, “Commander Pepi? My God! Indeed, this is the palace of the valiant commander.”
Ahmose looked at Latu in astonishment and asked him, “Did you know my father, Lord Latu?”
“Was there any of our generation who did not know him?”
“My heart tells me that you are one of the nobles whom the invaders drove away.”
Latu fell silent, not wanting to lie to the son of Commander Pepi. Then he asked him, “And how did the life of the valiant commander end?”
“He was martyred, my lord, in the final defense of Thebes. My mother obeyed his final testament and fled with me amidst a throng of nobles to the quarter of the poor where we live now. The ancient nobility of Thebes dispersed and some of them disguised themselves in tattered clothes and escaped to the fishermen's quarter, while the family of our sovereign took a ship for an unknown destination. The temple of Amun closed its doors on its priests, all ties between them and the rest of the world severed, and it was left to the white foreigners with their beards to stroll about the land without a care, owners of all. Khanzar did the best out of it, for his sister is the king's wife and he gave him my father's estate and palace and appointed him governor of the South in reward for the crime committed at his hands.”
Latu asked him, “What crime did the governor commit?”
Ahmose had stopped crying and said in a tone of great anger, “His criminal hand it was that brought down our sovereign Seqenenra!”
Isfmis, recoiling as one touched by a searing flame, was unable to remain seated and leapt up threateningly, anger of a sort to strike terror into men's hearts drawn on his face, while Latu closed his eyes, his face pale, his breath labored. Ahmose looked from the one to the other and found, at last, people who shared his burning emotions. He raised his head to the heavens and murmured, “The Lord bless this sacred anger!”
The ship arrived at
its moorings as the sun -was sinking into the Nile and the glow of evening stained the horizon. They made for Ebana's house and found the lady lighting her lamp. As soon as she became aware of their approach, she turned toward them with a smile of welcome on her lips. Latu and Isfmis came up to her and bowed to her with respect and the older man said in a solemn voice, “The Lord bless the evening of the widow of our great commander Pepi!”
The smile disappeared from her lips and her eyes widened in amazement and alarm. She fixed a look of reproof and rebuke on her son and tried to speak, but could not, her eyes brimming with tears. Ahmose went up to her, put his hands between hers, and said to her tenderly, “Mother, do not be afraid or sad! You know what kindness these two have shown me. Know too that they are, as I thought, among the ancient nobles of Thebes whom tyranny forced into exile, brought here by their longing to see the face of Egypt once again.”
The woman regained her composure and stretched out her hand to them, while they gazed at her, their faces eloquent with candor and sincerity. They all sat down close to one another and Isfmis said, “It is a great source of pride for us to sit with the widow of our brave commander Pepi, who died in defense of Thebes so that he could join his lord by the noblest of routes, and with his zealous son Ahmose.”
Ebana said, “I am truly happy that a fortunate coincidence has brought me together with two noble men of the old order. Let us reminisce together over days past and share our common feelings about the present. Ahmose is a youth full of ardor, worthy of his name, which his father gave him in honor of Ahmose, grandson of our sovereign Seqenenra and son of our king Kamose, the two being born on the same day — may the Lord bless him wherever he be!”
Latu spread his hands in support of her words and said honestly and sincerely, “The Lord keep our friend Ahmose, and his mighty namesake, wherever he be!”
12
The affection between the two traders and Ebana's family took firm hold and they lived together as one family, spending only the evenings apart. The men learned that the fishermen's quarter was crowded with people in hiding, merchants of Thebes and former owners of its estates and farms. Happy to learn this, the men desired to make the acquaintance of some of the more prominent among them, a wish that they made known to Ahmose, once they had made sure of the trustworthiness of the people. The youth welcomed the idea and chose four of those closest to his mother: Seneb, Ham, Kom, and Deeb. Having revealed to them the secret of the traders’ identity, he invited them one day to his house, where Latu and Isfinis received them. The men were dressed in the garb of the poor — a kilt and worn linen upper garment. All welcomed the traders and exchanged greetings with a warmth indicative of their honesty and affection. Ahmose said, “Those you see are, like yourselves, ancient lords of Egypt and all of them live as do the miserable, neglected fishermen, while the accursed Herdsmen have sole possession of their land.”
Ham asked the traders, ‘Are you from Thebes, gentlemen?”
Latu replied, “No, sir. However, we were once landowners in Ombos.”
Seneb said, “Did many fly, like you, to Nubia?”
Latu replied, “Indeed, sir. At Napata especially there are hundreds of Egyptians, from Ombos, Sayin, Habu, and Thebes itself.”
The men exchanged glances, none of them doubting the traders after what Ahmose had told them of what Isfinis had done for his mother at the court. Ham put the question, “And how do you live at Napata, Lord Latu?”
“We live a life of hardship like the Nubians themselves, for the soil of Nubia is generous with gold, miserly with grain.”
“You are, however, fortunate, since the hands of the Herdsmen cannot reach you.”
“No doubt. That is why we think constantly of Egypt and its enslaved and captured inhabitants.”
“Do we not have a military force in the south?”
“We do, but it is small, and Ra'um, the Egyptian governor of the south, uses it to keep order in the towns.”
“What might be the feelings of the Nubians toward us, following the invasion?”
“The Nubians love us and submit willingly to our rule. That is why Ra'um finds no difficulty in ruling the towns with an insignificant force. Were they to rebel, they would find no one to discipline them.”
The men's eyes lit up with dreams. Ahmose had told them how the two traders had managed to cross the border and visit the governor, and how Isfmis was going to present Apophis with a gift at the victory feast. Ham asked with displeasure, “And what do you hope to gain by presenting your gift to Apophis?”
Isfmis said, “To stir his greed, so that he will give me permission to carry on trade between Nubia and Egypt and exchange gold for grain.”
The men were silent and Isfmis said nothing for a while, thinking. Finally he decided to take a new step on the road of his mission. He said solemnly, “Listen well, gentlemen. The goal we seek to achieve is not trade and it is not proper that trade should be the goal of people presented to you in the house of the widow of our great commander Pepi. What we do hope is to link Egypt to Nubia by means of our convoy and to employ some of you as workers, in appearance, and transport you to our brothers in the south. We shall carry gold to Egypt and return with grain and men and maybe we shall come back one day, with men only….”
Everyone listened with astonishment mixed with joy and their eyes flashed with a sudden light. Ebana cried, “Lord! What lovely voice is this that revives the dead hopes in our hearts?”
Ham cried, “Dear God! Life stirs again in the graveyard of Thebes.”
And Kom exclaimed, “Young man, whose voice resurrects our dead hearts, we were living till now without hope or future, weighed down by the misery of our present and finding no escape from it but in recalling the glorious past and mourning it. Now you have opened the curtain on a splendid future.”
Isfinis was overjoyed and hope filled his heart. In his beautiful, stirring voice he said, “Weeping is no use, gentlemen. The past will disappear into ancient times and obliteration so long as you are content to do nothing but mourn it. Its glory will remain close at hand only if you work it energetically. Let it not sadden you that today you are merchants, for soon you will be soldiers with the world in the palms of your hands and its fortresses at your feet. But tell me the truth, do you have trust in all your brethren?”
With one breath they responded, “As we trust ourselves!”
“You are not afraid of spies?”
“The Herdsmen are mindless tyrants. They have been lulled by their ability to keep us slaves for ten years and take no precautions.”
Isfinis clapped his hands in delight and said, “Go to your faithful brethren and tell them the good news of fresh hope and bring us together as often as you can so that we may exchange views and advice and pass on to them the message of the south. If the Egyptians of Napata are angry in their safe haven, you have even better reason to be so.”
The men eagerly gave their assent to what he had said and Deeb said, “We are angry, noble youth. Our efforts will prove to you that we are angrier than our brethren of Napata.”
They bowed to the two traders and departed, overcome by an upsurge of anger and eagerness for battle that would neither quieten nor go away. The two men heard Ebana sigh and say, “Lord! Who will direct us to the family of our martyred sovereign? And where on the face of the earth is he?”
Two weeks passed, during which Isfinis and his older companion did not taste rest. They met with Thebes’ hidden men at the house of Ebana and made known to them the hopes of the Egyptians in exile, thus planting hope and life in their hearts and pouring strength and a thirst for battle into their souls till the whole of the fishermen's quarter was waiting impatiently and anxiously for the hour when Isfinis would be summoned to the royal palace.
The days passed until one day one of the chamberlains of the governor of the South came to the fishermen's quarter asking after the convoy of the one named Isfmis, then handed him a letter from the governor permitting him to enter the ro
yal palace at a certain time on the day of the feast. Many saw the messenger and rejoiced, hope dawning in their hearts.
On that evening, as the convoy slept, Isfmis remained alone on deck in the calm and glory of the quiet night, bathed in the moonlight, which poured gemstones and pearls of light, shining and glittering, over his noble face. A feeling of lightness entered him and he felt a delightful sense of satisfaction as his imagination wandered at will between the recent past and the extraordinary present. He thought of the moment of departure in Napata and of his grandmother Tetisheri giving him the good news that the spirit of Amun had inspired her to send him to Egypt, while his father Kamose stood nearby and counseled him in his deep, impressive voice. He remembered his mother, the queen Setkimus, as she kissed his brow and his wife Nefertari as she cast upon him a farewell glance from between moist eyelashes. A look of tenderness as pure and modest as the light of the moon appeared in his eyes and droplets of the beauty that charged the space between the sky and the water of the Nile seeped into his heart. He felt refreshed and intoxicated with a divine ambrosia. But an image of light and splendor stealthily invaded his imaginings, causing his body to shudder, and, closing his eyes as to fly from it, he whispered to himself in exasperation, “God, I think of her more than I should. And I shouldn't think of her at all.”
13
The day of the feast came. Isfmis spent the daylight hours on board the ship, then, in the evening, put on his best clothes, combed his flowing locks, applied perfume, and left the ship, followed by slaves carrying an ivory casket and a litter with lowered drapes. They took the road to the palace. Thebes was making merry, the air resounding to the beating of tambourines and the sound of song. The moon lit up streets crammed with drunken soldiers roaring songs and the carriages of the nobles and the notables making their way toward the royal palace, preceded by servants carrying torches. The youth was plunged into deep dejection and said to himself sorrowfully, “It is my fate to share -with these people in the feast -with -which they commemorate the fall of Thebes and the killing of Seqenenra,” and directed an angry look toward the clamorous soldiery, remembering the -words of the physician Kagemni, “When soldiers get used to drinking, their arms grow feeble and they loathe to fight.”