They saw her point her finger at one of the ships behind them, her mouth open in amazement, — while — wonder like-wise sketched itself on the comely faces of the slave girls. Isfmis looked backward and saw one of the pygmies that he had brought — walking on the deck of the ship and realized — why the beautiful princess was amazed. He looked at Latu, saying smilingly that one of the gifts had found the appreciation it deserved, but Latu was gazing at the woman, his eyes hard and face dark. The woman called a sailor, who made his way to the side of the ship and shouted, directing his call to Latu in accents that brooked no refusal, “Halt, Nubian, and drop anchor!”
Isfmis acceded to the order and issued a command to the convoy to halt. The royal vessel then drew near to the ship carrying the pygmy and the sailor asked Isfmis, “What is this convoy?”
“A trade convoy, sir.”
He gestured with his hand at the pygmy, who was fleeing to the bowels of the ship, and said, “Is the creature dangerous?”
“Not at all, sir!”
“Her Pharao nie Highness wishes to look at the creature close up.”
Latu whispered, “That is the title of Pharaoh's daughter.”
Isfmis for his part lowered his head in respect and said, “It is my pleasure to obey!”
He quickly left the ship in a boat with which he crossed to the other ship, where he climbed onto the deck to receive the princess, who, with her entourage, was approaching in a boat from her ship. They mounted the deck, preceded by the princess, and the youth bowed before her with a show of reverence, resisting his feeling of humiliation, and pretending to be embarrassed and confused. He stammered, “You do our convoy great honor, Your Highness!”
Then he lifted his head and observed her from close up with a quick glance. He beheld a face that embodied both beauty and pride, for there was in it as much to provoke fascination as there was to invoke respect, and he beheld blue eyes in whose clear gaze shone haughtiness and boldness. She paid no attention to his greeting but looked around the place, no doubt seeking the pygmy. She asked him in a melodious voice that gave all who heard it the impression of thrilling music, “Where is the wonderful creature that was here?”
The youth said, “He will present himself.”
He went to a hatch that opened into the interior of the ship and called, “Zolo!”
Soon, the head of the pygmy appeared through the hatch, followed by his body. Then he approached his master, who took him by the hand to where the princess and her slave girls stood, the pygmy walking with his chest thrust forward and his head tilted backward in an absurd display of pride. He was no more than four hand spans in height, intensely black in color, and his legs were bowed. Isfmis said to him, “Greet your mistress, Zolo!”
The pygmy bowed till his frizzy hair touched the ground. The princess was reassured and asked, her eyes never leaving the pygmy, “Is he animal or human?”
“Human, Your Highness.”
“Why should he not be considered an animal?”
“He has his own language and his own religion.”
“Amazing! Are there many like him?”
“Indeed, my lady. He belongs to a numerous people, composed of men, women, and children. They have a king and poisoned arrows that they shoot at wild animals and raiders. Yet Zolo's folk quickly take a liking to people. They give sincere affection to those they take as friends and will follow them like faithful dogs.”
Wondering, she shook her head with its crown of golden tresses and her lips parted to reveal pearly, regular teeth as she asked, “Where do Zolo's people live?”
“In the furthest forests of Nubia, where the divine Nile has its source.”
“Make him talk to me if you can.”
“He cannot speak our language. At most he can understand a few commands. But he will greet my lady in his own language.”
Isfmis said to the pygmy, “Call down a nice blessing on our lady's head!”
The pygmy's large head shook as though he were trembling, then he uttered strange words in a voice that was more like the lowing of cattle and the princess could not suppress a sweet laugh. She said, “Truly, he is strange. But he is ugly; it would give me no pleasure to acquire him.”
The youth looked crestfallen and said, with the glibness of the cunning merchant, “Zolo, my lady, is not the best thing in my convoy. I have treasures to captivate the soul and steal the heart!”
She turned contemptuously from Zolo to the boastful salesman and for the first time cast him a scrutinizing glance. Finding before her his towering height and youthful bloom, she was amazed that a common trader should appear thus. She asked him, “Do you really have something likely to please me?”
“Indeed, my lady.”
“Then show me a specimen… some examples of your wares.”
Isfmis clapped his hands and a slave came to him and he directed a few words to him in a low voice. The man absented himself for a while, then returned carrying, with the help of another, an ivory box. This they placed in front of the princess and opened. Then they moved aside. The princess looked inside the box, while the slave girls craned their necks, and saw a dazzling array of gleaming pearls, earrings, and bracelets. She examined these with a practiced eye, then stretched out her soft, supple hand to take a necklace of incomparable simplicity and perfection: an emerald heart on a chain of pure gold. She took the heart in her fingers and murmured, “Where did you get this gem? There is nothing like it in Egypt!”
The youth said proudly, “It is the greatest of Nubia's treasures!”
She murmured, “Nubia… Zolo's country. How beautiful it is!”
Isfmis smiled and looking attentively at her fingers he said, “Now that it has attracted your highness's admiration, it would not do for it to be returned to its box.”
Without embarrassment she replied, “Indeed. But I do not have the money to pay for it with me. Are you going to Thebes?”
He said, “Yes, my lady.”
She said, “You will have to come to the palace and take the money.”
The youth bowed respectfully and the princess cast a farewell look at Zolo, then turned away, moving past with her supple, slender form, followed by the slave girls. The youth's eyes hung on her until the ship's side hid her. Then he recalled himself and returned to his ship where Latu awaited him impatiently, asking him before the youth could say anything, “What news?”
He gave him a summary of what the princess had said, then asked smilingly, “Do you think she's really the daughter of Apophis?”
Latu replied angrily, “She is a devil, daughter of a devil!”
Latu's rough words and angry looks awakened the youth from his reverie. It came to him that the person who had aroused his admiration was the daughter of the humiliator of his people, and his grandfather's killer, and that he had not felt in her presence the resentment and hatred that he should. He was angry with himself, fearing that the tone in which he had related her words might have had its source in an admiration that would hurt the honest old man. He said to himself, “I must be worthy of the duty that I came here to perform!” So it was that he did not look after the princess's boat but instead stared long at the horizon and tried to feel hatred for her, sensing that she was a power that must be resisted in every way. She had passed out of his life forever, but… dear God, her beauty had enchanted him, and no one who had the misfortune to see her could close his eyes to the power of its light.
At that moment he thought of his young wife Nefertari, with her straight body, golden-brown face, and enchanting black eyes, and all he could do was to stammer, “How different from each other these two lovely images are!”