Выбрать главу

Rhadopis raised her hands to her head as if she were shouting for help, her body was contorted with the severity of the pain and she threw herself desperately onto the divan as she said, “Dear Lord, what horror is this? How does the earth not quake, and the mountains crumble to dust? Why does the sun not pour down its fire upon the world?”

“It is quaking, my lady,” said the slave. “It is quaking mightily. The populace is locked in violent combat with the police. Blood gushes and flows. I was almost trampled underfoot, and I ran for my life, oblivious to the fray, and I came down to the island in a skiff. My fears only increased when I saw the Nile heaving with boats, the people on board shouting the same slogans as those on the land. It was as if they had all agreed to come out at the same time.”

She was overwhelmed with fatigue and a wave of choking despair crashed down on her and drowned her floundering hopes without mercy. She began to ask her grief-stricken heart, “What on earth has happened in Abu? How have these grievous events come to pass? What provoked the people and whipped them into such a frenzy?” Was the message doomed to failure and her hope destined to die? The air was thick with dust, gloomy and somber, and harbingers of imminent evil flew about in all directions. Her heart would not savor rest now, for mortal fear gripped it like a fist of ice. “O ye Gods, help us,” she exclaimed. “Has my lord appeared before the citizenry?”

Shayth reassured her, saying, “No, he has not, my lady. He shall not quit his palace until his castigation has been visited upon the rebellious mob.”

“Dear Lord! You do not know how he thinks, Shayth. My master is irascible, he will never stand down. I am so afraid, Shayth. I must see him, now.”

The slave shook with fright as she said, “That is impossible. The water is covered with boats all packed to the brim with angry mobs, and the island guards are assembled on the bank.”

She tore at her hair as she cried out, “Why is it that the world is closing in upon me, doors slammed shut in my face? I am tumbling down a dark well of despair. O my darling! How do you fare now at this moment? How can I come to you?”

Shayth said to solace her, “Patience, my lady. This dark cloud will pass.”

“My heart is torn in pieces. I sense he is in pain. O my master, my darling! I — wonder — what events are transpiring now in Abu.”

These — woes overpowered her, all the pain burst open in her heart and her tears flowed fervently. Shayth was perturbed at this unfamiliar display, seeing the high priestess of love, luxury, and indulgence in floods of tears, wailing desperately as comatose with grief she pondered her dashed hopes that had been so real just minutes before. Her heart felt the icy blade of fear as she asked herself in alarm and trepidation, “Would they be able to coerce her lord against his will and deprive him of his happiness and his pride? Would they make her palace an object of their hatred and dissatisfaction?” Life would be unbearable if either of these nightmares came true. It would be better for her to put an end to her life if it lost its splendor and joy. Now Rhadopis, who once was courted by love and glory, was about to choose between life and death. She thought about her dilemma for a long time until at length the sadness brought to her a thought she had consigned to the deeper recesses of her memory. She was suddenly overcome with curiosity and she rose quickly and washed her face with cold water to remove any traces of weeping from her eyes. She said to Shayth that she wished to talk to Benamun about certain matters. The youth was engrossed in his work, as usual, oblivious to the unhappy events that were turning the world black. When he realized she was there, he walked toward her, his face beaming with joy, but he quickly fell silent. “By the truth of this ravishing beauty, you are indeed sad today,” he said.

“Not at all,” she replied, lowering her gaze, “just a little unwell, like a woman sick.”

“It is very hot. Why do you not sit an hour by the edge of the pool?”

“I have come to you with a request, Benamun,” she said abruptly.

He folded his arms across his chest as though saying, “Here I am, at your disposal.”

“Do you remember, Benamun,” she asked him, “you told me once of a marvelous poison concocted by your father?”

“Indeed I do,” said the young man, surprise appearing upon his face.

“Benamun, I — want a phial of that marvelous poison — which your father named ‘the happy poison.’ “

Benamun's surprise grew more apparent, and he muttered questioningly, “What on earth for?”

In a tone as calm as she could manage, she said, “I was talking to a physician and he expressed interest in its regard. He asked me if I might be able to supply him — with a phial, — with — which he might save the life of a patient. I promised him, Benamun. Will you now promise me in your turn to fetch it for me without further delay?”

It delighted him that she should ask him for whatever she wished and he said merrily, “You will have it in your hands in a matter of hours.”

“How? Will you not have to go to Ambus to fetch it?”

“Not at all. I have a phial at my lodgings in Abu.”

His announcement aroused her curiosity in spite of all her woes and she gazed at him in bewilderment. He lowered his eyes and his face reddened. In a low voice he said, “I went and brought it in those painful days when I was almost cured of my love and wallowed in deep despair. Had it not been for the affection you showed after that, I would now be in the company of Osiris.”

Benamun went off to fetch the phial. She shrugged her shoulders contemptuously, and as she stood up to leave, she said, “I may resort to it instead of some more evil outcome.”

Arrow of the people

Obeying his lord's command, Tarn saluted and departed — with confusion and fear drawn upon his countenance. The three men were left standing there alone, ashen-faced. Sofkhatep broke the silence — with a plea. “I beseech you, my lord, refrain from going to the temple today.”

Pharaoh could not stomach such advice and, knitting his brow in anger, he said, “Am I to flee at the first call that goes up?”

The prime minister said, “My lord, the populace are — worked into a frenzy. We must take time to reflect.”

“My heart tells me that our plan is headed for certain failure, and if I give in today I will have lost my dignity forever.”

“And the people's anger, my lord?”

“It will die down and abate when they see me cut through their ranks in my chariot like a towering obelisk, facing peril head on, not surrendering or submitting.”

Pharaoh began to pace up and down the room, irascible and in a violent temper. Sofkhatep was silent, concealing his own rage. He turned to Tahu as if calling for help, but it was clear from the commander's ghostlike complexion, distant eyes, and heavy eyelids that he was swamped by his own woes. A profound silence fell over them, and all that could be heard were the king's footsteps.

A court chamberlain hurried nervously into the room, breaking their stillness. He bowed to the king and said, “An officer of the police requests permission to be granted an audience, my lord.”

The king granted him permission, and he cast his two men a look to ascertain the effect of the chamberlain's words on their demeanor. He found them perturbed and ill at ease, and a wry smile formed on his lips as he shrugged his broad shoulders disdainfully. The officer entered, breathless from the effort and commotion. His uniform — was caked — with dust and his helmet battered and askew. It did not bode well. The man saluted and before being permitted to speak, said, “My lord! The citizenry is engaged in violent battle with the constables of the police. Many men have been killed on both sides, but they will overpower us if we do not receive substantial reinforcements from the pharaonic guard.”

Sofkhatep and Tahu were horrified. They looked at Pharaoh and saw his lips were trembling with rage. “By every god and goddess in the pantheon,” he roared, “these folk have not come to celebrate the festival!”