The queens were unable to contain themselves any longer and burst out weeping, and Pepi himself was overcome and said, “We must be brave in the face of this adversity. Let us take Seqenenra as our model and remember always, my lord, that the cause of our defeat was the war chariots. If one day you turn against the enemy anew, make chariots your — weapon. Now I must go to summon the slaves to load up the golden valuables and weapons that are in the palace that cannot be dispensed with.”
With these words, Commander Pepi left.
12
The palace was filled with sudden activity. All the rooms were lit and the slaves set about loading up the clothes, arms, and caskets of gold and silver, taking them to the royal ship in mournful silence under the supervision of the head chamberlain. The royal family waited the while in King Kamose's room, plunged in melancholy silence, heads bent, eyes darkened with despair and grief. They remained thus for a while, until Chamberlain Hur came in to them and said in a low voice, “It is finished, my lord.”
The chamberlain's words entered their ears as an arrow does the flesh. Their hearts beat fast and they raised their heads distractedly, exchanging looks of despair and grief. Was everything truly finished? Had the hour of farewell come? Was this the end of the era of the palace of the pharaohs, of Thebes the Glorious, and of immortal Egypt? Would they be denied henceforth the sight of the obelisk of Amenhotep, the temple of Amun, and the hundred-gated walls? Would Thebes reject them today only to open its gates tomorrow to Apophis so that he might ascend the throne and hold the power of life and death in his hands? How could the guides become the lost, the lords the fugitives, the masters of the house the dispossessed?
Kamose saw that they had not moved, so he rose lethargically and muttered in a low voice, “Let us bid farewell to my father's room.” They stood as he had, and the family proceeded with heavy, listless steps to the room of the departed king and stood before its closed door, intimidated, not knowing how they could intrude without his permission or face its emptiness. Hur moved forward a step and opened the door. They entered, their labored breaths and ardent sighs preceding them, and their looks hung with tenderness and love on the mighty hall, the luxurious seats, and elegant tables, their attention coming to rest on the king's oratory, with its beautiful, sanctified niche, in which had been sculpted his image, making obeisance before the Lord Amun. All of them could see him sitting on his divan, supporting himself on his cushion, smiling his sweet smile at them, and inviting them to sit. They all felt his soul enfold them and surround them and their sorrowful spirits hovered in the heaven of their memories — memories of a mother, a wife, and a son, memories whose traces mingled with their deep sighs and freely flowing tears.
Kamose awoke to the hearts dissolving about him, and, approaching the image of his father, bent reverently before it, gave its brow a kiss, and then turned aside. Next Tetisheri came forward and bent over the beloved image, planting on its brow a kiss into which she put all the pains of her bereaved and mourning heart. All the family bade farewell to the image of their lost lord and then they left as they had entered, in sorrowing silence.
Kamose found Chamberlain Hur waiting for him and asked, ‘And you, Hur?”
“My duty, my lord, is to follow you like a faithful dog.”
The king put his hand on his shoulder in thanks and they all advanced through the pillared halls, Commander Pepi going before them and Kamose walking at the head of his family, followed by the little prince and princess, Ahmose and Nefertari, then Tetisheri, then Queen Ahotep, and then Queen Setkimus, with Chamberlain Hur bringing up the rear. They descended the stairs to the colonnade, arriving finally in the garden, where slaves accompanied them on either side, carrying torches and lighting the way before them. They reached the ship and were taken out to it one by one, until it had gathered them all. Now came the moment of departure and they took there a farewell look, their eyes losing themselves in the darkness that reigned over Thebes as though enfolding it in garments of mourning. Their stricken hearts broke, wrung by the pain of their tender longing, silence engulfing them so that they seemed almost to have melted into the darkness. Pepi stood before them not saying a word and not daring to break that sad silence, until the king noticed his presence and, sighing, said to him, “The time to say farewell has come.”
Pepi said, in a sad and trembling voice, fighting hard to master his emotions, “My lord, would that I had died before I found myself in this position. Let my consolation be that you travel in the path of the Lord Amun and of glorious Thebes. I see that the time to say farewell has truly come, as you say, my lord. So go, and may the Lord protect you with His mercy and watch over you with the eye of His concern. I hope that I may live long enough to witness the day of your return as I have the day of your departure, so that my eye may be gladdened once more by the sight of dear Thebes. Farewell, my lord! Farewell, my lord!”
“Say, till we meet again!”
“Indeed! Till we meet again, my lord!”
He approached his lord and kissed his hand, still controlling his emotions lest he wet that noble hand with his tears. Then he kissed the hands of Tetisheri, Queen Ahotep, Queen Setkimus, the crown prince Ahmose, and his sister Nefertari. He took the hand of Chamberlain Hur affectionately, bowed his head to them all, and left the ship, dazed and silent.
At the garden steps, he stood and watched as the ship started to move with the touch of the oars on the water and drew away from the shore, slowly and deliberately, as though feeling the weight of the sadness of those on board, who had all gathered at the rail, their throbbing spirits bidding farewell to Thebes. Then he let himself go and wept, surrendering himself till his body shook. He continued to look after the precious ship as it slipped into the darkness until it was swallowed by the night. Then he sighed from the depths of his heart and remained where he was, unable to leave the shore and as lonely as if he had fallen live into a deep grave. Finally, he turned slowly away and returned to the palace with slow, sluggish steps, muttering “My Lord, my Lord, where are you? Where are you, my Masters? People of Thebes, how can you sleep in peace when death hovers over your heads? Arise! Seqenenra is dead and his family has fled to the ends of the earth, yet you sleep. Arise! The palace is empty of its masters. Thebes has bid farewell to its kings and tomorrow an enemy — will occupy your throne. How can you sleep? Outside the walls, humiliation lies waiting!”
Taking a torch, the commander walked dejectedly through the halls of the palace, moving from — wing to — wing until he found himself before the throne room, and turned toward it and crossed its threshold, saying, “Forgive me, my lord, for entering without your permission!” To the light of the torch he advanced with faltering steps between the two rows of chairs on which the affairs of state had been settled until he ended at the throne of Thebes and knelt, then prostrated himself and kissed the ground. Then he stood sadly in front before it, the light of the torch flickering with a reddish glow upon his face, and said in a loud voice: “Truly a beautiful and immortal page has turned! We, the dead tomorrow, shall be the happiest people in this valley that never before knew night. Throne, it saddens me to tell you that your master will never return to you and that his heir has gone to a distant land. As for me, I shall never allow you to be the site where the words that tomorrow will consign Egypt to misery take form. Apophis shall never sit upon you. May you disappear as your master disappeared!”