The leader of the group said, “She is the daughter of the great murderer Apophis.”
Ahmose awoke to the delicacy of his situation among these angry people thirsting for revenge and he said, “Do not allow anger to corrupt your sacred ways. The truly virtuous man is he who holds fast to his virtue when passion erupts and anger flares. You are a people that respect women and do not kill captives.”
One of them, who had lost a relative but still not tasted revenge, said, “Protector of Egypt, our rage will be appeased when we send the head of this woman to Apophis.”
Ahmose said, “Are you urging your sovereign to be like Apophis, a shedder of innocent blood and a killer of women? Leave the matter to me and leave in peace.”
The people prostrated themselves to Pharaoh and left. The king called an officer of his guard and ordered him in a low voice to take the princess to his royal ship and guard her closely.
The king was experiencing a tempest in his heart and soul. Unable to remain idle, he issued an order to his commanders to make a triumphal victory entrance into Thebes at the head of the army. When he turned to Hur, he found that he was staring at him with startled, puzzled, pitying eyes.
15
The field emptied and the king made his way toward the Nile followed by his guards. He urged the drivers of his chariot to hurry and plunged into his private dreams and thoughts. What a shock his heart had been subjected to today! What a surprise he had endured! It had never occurred to him that he might meet Amenridis again. He had despaired of ever seeing her and she had become for him a dream that had illumined his night for a brief moment, then been swallowed by the darkness. Then he had seen her again, unexpectedly and without design. The fates had thrown her on his mercy and put her all of a sudden under his control. In such a state of ferment was his breast, so hard was his heart beating, and so heated were the emotions that had been awoken in him, that sweet memories were brought back to life and he surrendered himself to their tender current, forgetful of all else.
But she, could it be that she had recognized him? And if she had not, did she still remember the happy trader Isfmis, whose life she had rescued from a certain death and to whom she had said, with beating heart and welling tears, “Till we meet again!”? And whom she had yearned for in his exile and to whom she had sent a message in whose lines she had hidden her love as fire is hidden in the flint? Did her heart still beat as it had the first time in the cabin of the royal vessel? Dear God! How was it that he felt that he was approaching a boundless happiness? Should he trust his heart or suspect it? The king thought of her wretched appearance when the insurgents had thrust her toward him. His strong body trembled and a shudder ran through it. He asked himself sadly — as he thought of her with the angry people around her spitting on her, abusing her, and insulting her father, and remembered the anger, fury, and pride that had shown in her face — would her anger abate if she knew that she was the prisoner of Isfmis? He felt an anxiety that had never assailed him in the most trying of circumstances. His cavalcade having reached the shore, he descended and went to the royal vessel, where he summoned the officer to whom he had entrusted her and asked him, “How is the princess?”
“She has been put, my lord, in a private chamber and brought new clothes. Food has been offered her, but she refuses to touch it and she treated the soldiers with contempt and called them slaves. Nevertheless, she has been given the best treatment, as Your Majesty commanded.”
The king looked uneasy and went with quiet steps to the chamber. A guard opened the door, closing it after the king had entered. The chamber was small and elegant, lit by a large lamp suspended from the ceiling. To the right of the entrance the princess, in simple clothes of linen, sat on a luxuriously upholstered couch. She had combed her hair, which the insurgents had disarranged, and let it fall in a large plait. He looked at her, smiled, and found that she was looking at him in astonishment and disbelief, seemingly confused and mistrustful, as though she could not believe her eyes. He greeted her, saying, “Good evening, Princess.”
She did not answer him but, on hearing his voice, seemed to become yet more confused and mistrustful. The youth held her in a long look of love and infatuation, then asked her, “Do you lack anything?”
She looked closely at his face, raised her eyes to his helmet and lowered them to his armor, and asked him, “Who are you?”
“I am called Ahmose, Pharaoh of Egypt.”
Distaste appeared in her eyes. He wanted to confuse her yet more, so he took off his helmet and placed it on a table, telling himself that she would not be able to believe her eyes. He saw her looking at his curly hair in disbelief. As though it was he who was startled, he said to her, “Why do you look at me thus, as though you knew someone who resembled me?”
She did not know what to say and made no reply. He longed to hear her voice and feel her tenderness, so he said to her, “Suppose I told you my name was Isfmis, would you answer me?”
No sooner did she hear the name Isfmis than she stood up and shouted at him, “So you are Isfmis!”
He took a step toward her, looked at her tenderly, and grasped her — wrist, saying, “I am Isfinis, Princess Amenridis.”
She tore her wrist away and said, “I understand nothing.”
Ahmose smiled and said gently, “What do names matter? Yesterday I was called Isfinis and today I am called Ahmose, but I am one person and one heart.”
“How strange! How can you say that you are one person? You were a trader who sold trinkets and pygmies and now you fight and wear the clothes of a king.”
“And — why not? Before, I — was prying around Thebes in disguise, and now I lead my people to liberate my country and reclaim my stolen throne.”
She gave him a long look, — whose meaning he could not fathom, and he tried to approach her once again but she repelled him — with a gesture of her hand and her features hardened, harshness and pride appearing in her eyes. He felt disappointment and rejection overwhelm his hopes and murder the nightingales of anticipation that sung in his breast. He heard her saying vehemently, “Keep away from me!”
He entreated her, saying, “Don't you remember…?”
But, the anger for which her people were famous taking control of her, she cut him short before he could finish, saying, “I remember and I shall always remember that you are a common spy.”
The terrible shock made him grimace and he said angrily, “Princess, are you not aware that you are speaking to a king?”
“What king, fellow?”
Anger getting the better of him, he said vehemently, “The Pharaoh of Egypt.”
Contemptuously she replied, “And my father would be one of your agents, then?”
The king's anger grew and his pride overwhelmed all other feelings. He said, “Your father is not worthy to be one of my agents. He is the usurper of my country's throne and I have defeated him utterly and made him flee from the northern gates of Thebes, leaving his daughter to fall captive to the people whom he mistreated. I shall follow him with my armies until he takes refuge in the deserts that spat him out into our valley. Are you not aware of this? As for me, I am the lawful king of this valley because I am of the line of the pharaohs of glorious Thebes and because I am a victorious general who is reclaiming his country by strength and by skill.”
Coldly and sarcastically she replied, “Are you proud to be a king whose people excel at fighting women?”
'Amazing! Do you not know that you are indebted to those people of mine for your life? You were at their mercy and if they had killed you, they would not have violated the code that your father established when he exposed women and children to the arrows of the foe.”