Naively, calmly, she repeated, “She has taken him from me, she has taken him from me.”
He knew that she meant the queen. And he shrugged his shoulders saying, “You possessed him while he was alive. She has taken him back dead.”
She looked at him oddly and said, “You fool, you ignorant fool. Do you not know? The treacherous woman killed him so she could have him back.”
“Which treacherous woman is that?”
“The queen. She is the one who divulged our secret and stirred up the people. She is the one who killed my lord.”
He was listening to her silently, a mocking demonic smile about his mouth, and when she finished speaking he laughed his mad frightening laugh, then said, “You are mistaken, Rhadopis. The queen is neither traitor nor murderer.”
He gazed into her face as he took a step nearer to her, and she looked at him, consternation and bewilderment in her eyes, as he said in a terrible voice, “If it concerns you to know the traitor, here he is, standing before you. I am the traitor, Rhadopis, I.”
His words did not affect her as he had imagined. They did not even rouse her from her stupor, but she shook her head lightly from side to side as if she wished to shake off the lethargy and indifference. He was consumed with anger and he grabbed her by the shoulders roughly and shook her violently as he yelled at her, “Wake up. Can you not hear what I am saying to you? I am the traitor. Tahu, the traitor. I am the cause of all these calamities.”
Her body shook violently, and she thrashed about wildly and freed herself from his hands. She took a few steps backward as she looked at his startled face with fear and madness in her eyes. His anger and irritation abated, and he felt his body and head go limp. His eyes darkened and he said softly, in sad tones, “I utter these appalling words so candidly because I sincerely feel that I am not of this world. All ties that bind me to it have been severed. There is no doubt that my confession has caused you great consternation, but it is the truth, Rhadopis. My heart was shattered by hideous cruelty, my soul torn apart with unspeakable pains that demented night I lost you forever.”
The commander paused to let his troubled breast calm down, and then continued, “But I harbored a hope, and resorted to patience and resignation, and determined sincerely to carry out my duty to the end. Then came that day you called me to your palace in order to reassure yourself of my loyalty. I lost my mind on that day. My blood was ablaze and I became strangely delirious. My madness drove me into the arms of the lurking enemy, and I divulged to him our secret. Thus did the trusty commander turn into the vile traitor, stabbing his comrades in the back.”
He was swamped with emotion at the memory, and his face grimaced in pain and grief. He looked cruelly into her panic-stricken eyes as his fury and anger returned, and cried out, “You pernicious and destructive woman! Your beauty has been a curse upon all who have ever set eyes upon you. It has tortured innocent hearts and brought ruin to a vibrant palace. It has shaken an ancient and respected throne, stirred up a peaceful people, and polluted a noble heart. It is indeed an evil and a curse.”
Tahu fell silent, though the rage still boiled in his veins, and seeing the torment and fear she was in, he felt relief and pleasure, and he mumbled, “Taste agony and humiliation and behold death. Neither of us should live. I died a long time ago. There is nothing left of Tahu save his glorious, emblazoned uniforms. As for the Tahu who took part in the conquest of Nubia, and whose courage on the field of battle earned the praise of Pepi II, Tahu, commander of the guard of Merenra II, his bosom friend and counselor, he does not exist.”
The man cast a quick glance about the room and unbearable anguish showed in his face. He could no longer stand the stifling silence nor the sight of Rhadopis, who was transformed into an unfeeling statue. He snorted into the air with bitterness and disgust as he said, “Everything should end, but I will not deny myself the harshest punishment. I shall go to the palace and summon all those who think well of me. I will announce my crime for them all to hear, and I will unmask the traitor who, though his lord's right-hand man, betrayed him in the end. I shall tear off the decorations that adorn my wicked breast, I shall throw aside my sword and plunge this dagger into my heart. Farewell, Rhadopis, and farewell to life that demands from us so much more than it deserves.”
With these words Tahu departed.
The end
No sooner had Tahu left the palace than the skiff” bearing Benamun Ben Besar docked at the garden stairway. The young man was exhausted, all color drained from his face, his clothes smeared with dust. The unrest he had seen in the city, the raging fury of the people in revolt, had left his nerves in shreds. Only with great effort had he managed to reach his lodgings. The scenes he had encountered on the way there paled in significance next to the horrors that greeted him on the return journey. So it was that he breathed a great sigh of relief when he found himself walking down the garden paths of the white palace of Biga, the summer room lying in front of him a little way ahead. He reached the room, and believing it to be empty, crossed the threshold. He soon realized his mistake, however, when he saw Rhadopis slumped on the divan underneath her magnificent portrait with Shayth sitting cross-legged at her feet, the two of them contained in an unearthly silence. He hesitated a moment. Shayth sensed his presence and Rhadopis turned toward him. The slave stood up, bowed to him in greeting and left the room. The young man stepped over to the woman, beaming with joy, but when he saw the expression on her face all his emotions stood still and he was overcome with anxiety, struck speechless. There was no doubt in his mind that the news of events outside had reached the ears of his goddess, and that the reports of the pains afflicting the people had reflected themselves on her lovely face and clothed it in this coarse mantle of despair. He knelt down in front of her, then leaned over the hem of her dress and kissed it passionately. He looked at her with his two clear eyes, full of compassion, as if to say to her, “I would gladly take upon myself your suffering.” The relief that appeared on her face when she saw him did not escape him. His heart raced with delight and his face turned bright red. In a feeble voice Rhadopis said to him, “You took a long time, Benamun.”
The youth said, “I made my way through a crashing sea of seething humanity. Abu today has flared up and boiled over, casting burning embers all about, and filling the air with ash.”
Then the young man thrust his hand into his pocket, pulled out a small phial, and handed it to her. She took it in her hand and held it tight. She felt its coldness course through her veins and settle in her heart, as she heard him say, “It looks to me as if your spirit carries more than it can bear.”
“Sorrows are contagious,” she said.
“Then be gentle with yourself. You should not surrender completely to sorrow. Why do you not leave for Ambus for a period of time, my lady, until some measure of calm returns to this place?”
She listened to him, feigning interest, with an odd expression in her eyes, as if she were looking for the last time at the last person she would ever set eyes upon in this world. The thought of death had so completely taken her over that she felt like a stranger in the world. So choked was she by her emotions that she did not feel a drop of compassion for the youth kneeling before her, floating in his world of hopes, his eyes blind to the fate that awaited him so imminently. Benamun thought that she was weighing his proposal in her mind, and hope welled in his heart and his desires were aroused as he said excitedly, “Ambus, my lady, is a town of tranquility and beauty. All the eye sees there is cloudless sky and birds chirping and ducks gliding across the water and lush greenery. Its glorious and happy air will wash away the pains that poor, troubled Abu has roused in your heart.”