“She cannot be a day over twenty-five.”
“Let her be as old as she wishes. Her comeliness is ripe and irresistible, and seems destined never to fade.”
“Where did she grow up?” inquired the asker again. “And where is she from?”
“Only the gods know that. For me it is as if she has always been there in her white palace on the island of Biga.”
All of a sudden a peculiar-looking woman cut through the assembled ranks. Her back was bent like a bow and she leaned on a thick stick. Her white hair was matted and disheveled, her fangs long and yellow, and her nose crooked. Her stern eyes emitted a fearsome light from beneath two graying eyebrows and she wore a long, flowing gown girded at the waist with a flaxen cord.
“It is Daam,” cried those who saw her, “Daam, the sorceress!” She paid no heed to them as her bony feet carried her on her way. She claimed to be able to see the invisible world and to know the future. She would offer her supernatural power in exchange for a piece of silver, and those who gathered round her were either afraid of her or mocked her. On her way, the sorceress met a young man and offered to tell his fortune. The youth agreed, for if truth be told, he was drunk and staggering and his legs could hardly carry him. He pressed a piece of silver into her palm as he gazed at her with half-sleepy eyes.
“How old are you, lad?” she asked him in her hoarse voice.
“Twelve cups,” he answered, unaware of what he was saying.
The crowd roared with laughter, but the woman was furious and threw away the piece of silver he had given her and went on her way, which never seemed to end. Suddenly another young man blocked her way, sneering: “What happenings await me, woman?” he asked her rudely.
She looked at him a moment, angry and embittered, then said, “Rejoice! Your wife will betray you for the third time.”
The people laughed and applauded her as the young man retreated in embarrassment, the arrow having been deflected to return and pierce his own breast. The sorceress walked on until she reached the courtesan's palanquin and, keen to test her generosity, she stopped before it, smiling slyly as she called to the woman sitting inside: “Shall I read your stars, O lady who is so carefully guarded?”
The courtesan did not appear to have heard the voice of the sorceress.
“My lady!” the old woman shouted. Rhadopis looked toward her, seemingly in panic, then turned her head quickly away, for anger had touched her.
“Believe me,” the old woman told her, “there is none in all this clamoring crowd who has need of me today like you do,” whereupon one of the slaves approached the old woman and stood between her and the palanquin. The incident, despite its insignificance, would have aroused the interest of those standing nearby had not the shrill sound of a horn cut through the air. Immediately the soldiers lining the road raised their horns to their lips and blew a long continuous note, and all the people knew that Pharaoh's entourage had set off, and that soon Pharaoh would leave the palace on his way toward the temple of the Nile. Everyone forgot what they had been doing and gazed toward the road, necks craned, senses fine-tuned.
Long minutes passed, then the vanguard of the army appeared marching in ranks to the strains of martial music. At their head was the garrison of Bilaq with their assorted war gear, marching behind their standard, which bore the image of a hawk. The soldiers were met with a wave of tumultuous applause.
Then a hush fell over the crowd as a troop of infantry bearing lances and shields drew into view, their music infused with the spirit of the god Horus and their standard adorned with his image. Their lances were pointed straight up at the sky with geometrical precision, forming parallel lines in the air the length and breadth of the ranks.
Next came the great battalion of archers with their bows and quivers of arrows marching behind their standard, which bore a royal staff. They took a long time to pass.
Then in the distance, with a clattering and a jangling and a neighing of horses, the chariots appeared, moving in rows of ten, arranged so precisely they looked as if a pen had drawn them. Each chariot was drawn by two magnificent chargers and carried a charioteer with his sword and javelin, and an armored archer holding his bow in one hand and his quiver in the other. When they saw them, the spectators remembered the conquests of Nubia and Mount Sinai. They saw the troops in their mind's eye, swarming over the plains and down the valleys like vultures swooping from the sky, the enemy scattering before them in terror as destruction fell upon them. The crowd's excitement burned in their veins and their cries rent the heavens.
Then the solemn cortege of Pharaoh appeared, led by the royal chariot, followed immediately by crescent formations of chariots in fives bearing princes and ministers with the chief priests, the thirty judges of the regions, the commanders of the army, and the governors of the provinces. Finally, a detachment of the royal guard with Tahu at their head brought up the rear.
Pharaoh stood straight and tall in his chariot, solemn of mien like a granite statue that inclines neither right nor left, his eyes set firmly on the distant horizon, heedless of the great crowd and the cries ringing from the depths of their hearts.
The double crown of Egypt was set upon his head, while in one hand he gripped the royal flail and in the other the scepter. Over his regal garments he wore a leopard skin cape in celebration of the religious festival.
Hearts were filled with joy and excitement, and such was the din rising into the air that the birds in the sky flew away in fear. Rhadopis was carried away by the fervor and a sudden surge of life rushed through her, lighting up her face — with a radiant light as she clapped her tender hands.
Then suddenly, above the noise of the crowd, one voice cried out in haste: “Long live His Excellency Khnumhotep!” Dozens of other voices echoed the call, which caused great unease and consternation, and the people looked round to see who could be so bold as to call out the prime minister's name in young Pharaoh's hearing and who had lent support to this audacious and unimaginable challenge.
The cry left no noticeable trace and had not the slightest effect on any in the king's entourage, thus the procession continued on its way until at last it reached the temple hill. The chariots pulled up all at once and two princes carrying a cushion of ostrich feathers adorned with a cover of gold lace walked up to Pharaoh's chariot. The king stepped on to it and blew into a horn. The soldiers saluted and the musicians of the royal guard played the anthem of the sacred Nile as Pharaoh solemnly ascended the steps leading up the hill. He was followed by the great and mighty of his kingdom: generals, ministers, and governors, and at the door of the great temple waited the priests, laid in prostration before him. As Lord Chamberlain Sofkhatep announced the arrival of Pharaoh, the high priest of the temple rose to his feet and bowed, and hiding his eyes with his hands, spoke in a low voice: “The servant of the god of the sacred Nile is honored to extend humble and sincere greetings to our lord, Master of Upper and Lower Egypt, Son of Ra, Lord of the Radiant Ones.”
Pharaoh extended the scepter and the high priest kissed it reverently. The priests stood up and fell into two rows so that Pharaoh might pass. His retinue followed him into the Great Hall of the Altar, which was lined on all sides with towering columns. They circled the sanctuary as the priests burned incense; its smell wafted through the temple and its smoke hovered over the heads lowered in reverence and humility. Some of the chamberlains brought in a bull that had been sacrificed and placed it on the altar as an offering and oblation. Then Pharaoh recited the customary words: “I stand before you, O Sacred God, having purified myself and presented this sacrifice as an offering to you, that you may bestow your bounty on the land of this good valley and its faithful people.”