He set his gaze toward the trees, and saw the birds drawn by their branches, continually warbling in song, their appearance announcing their joy from passionate love and affection. He felt a sentiment for them that he had not known before. He envied that they could cavort without cost, that they could love without torment, and that their natures transcended all doubts and illusions. He looked at his own colored uniform, his cocky headdress, and his sword, and felt insignificant: he had an urge to laugh at himself with snickering bitterness.
He had mastered archery and horseback riding, and excelled in hand-to-hand combat, achieving all that to which a youth aspires — yet he knew not how to make himself happy! Nafa was more fortunate because he had married Mana of the long, graceful neck and honey-colored eyes. And Kheny would wed in quiet simplicity, because he views marriage as a religious obligation. As for Djedef, he had to keep hidden within his breast a secret, despairing love, which withered his heart the way that the denial of Nile water and sun withers the leafy tree.
He remained rooted where he stood, longing to see her yet another time. To him, this visit seemed clearly unofficial, for had it been known by all in the palace, they would have received her in a manner appropriate to her station in the royal family. Therefore it was certainly possible that she would return to the boat by herself. His thinking turned out to be correct, for the princess reappeared alone after His Royal Highness had bid her goodbye at the palace entrance.
Djedef was at his place by the garden's staircase, in attendant readiness, until — when she passed by in front of him — he drew out his sword in salute. Suddenly Meresankh stopped and turned toward him — with highborn hauteur, inquiring bitingly, “Do you know your duties, Officer?”
“Yes, Your Highness,” he blurted, shaken as though by an earthquake.
“Do your duties include kidnapping maidens other than in time of war?”
As embarrassment seized him, she continued staring cruelly at him for a moment, then said, “Is it a soldier's duty to act treacherously?”
Unable to bear the pain, he told her, “O my mistress, the brave soldier never behaves treacherously.”
At this, she asked him mockingly, “Then what would you say to one who skulks in waiting behind the trees for virtuous maidens, and paints them on the sly?”
Then her tone changed. “You should know that I want that picture,” she demanded sternly.
Djedef obeyed, as he was accustomed to obey. He put his hand into his breast, pulling the painting out of its deep hiding place, and presented it to the princess.
She had not been expecting this. Surprise flashed on her face, in spite of her pride — but she soon regained her grip on herself as she stretched forth her soft-skinned hand and snatched the image from him.
Then she processed back to her ship, enveloped in majesty and grandeur.
21
Djedef's life in the prince's palace — went on-with nothing novel on the horizon, until one day he discovered a new source of pain.
On that day, His Highness Prince Khafra went out in his most exalted ceremonial uniform, preceded by a squadron of guards, among them Djedef's friend Sennefer. The prince returned toward the evening, and Sennefer came back to his chamber at the same time that Djedef did after fulfilling his duty, both as a guard and as inspector of the guards. Of course, it would have been natural to ask his friend what had prompted the prince to go out in a manner reserved usually for the great feasts. But he knew from experience that Sennefer was the sort who could not keep a secret. And in fact, Sennefer had only relaxed briefly when he said, while pulling on his nightshirt, “Do you know where we went today?”
“No,” said Djedef, calmly.
“His Highness Prince Ipuwer, governor of Arsina Nome,” Sennefer said, weightily, “went to Memphis today — where he was received by the heir apparent!”
“Isn't His Highness the son of His Majesty the King's maternal uncle?”
“Yes,” answered Sennefer, “and it is said that His Highness came bearing a report on the tribes of Sinai — there have been many more incidents lately involving them in the lands of the Eastern Delta.”
“Then His Highness was a herald of war?”
“True enough, Djedef,” replied Sennefer. “And what I've learned is that for a long time, the crown prince has leaned toward taming the tribes of Sinai, and Commander Arbu supports his view. Yet Pharaoh preferred to be patient until the country's forces were ready, after the huge effort expended in construction, especially in building the king's pyramid. After waiting for a time, the prince asked for the fulfillment of what his father had promised. But it's said that His Majesty the King is preoccupied these days in — writing his great book, — which he wants to make the greatest guide in both religious and worldly affairs for the Egyptians. So, as the king didn't seem prepared to think seriously about the question of — war, Prince Khafra turned to his relative Prince Ipuwer. He agreed that he would meet — with him himself to advise the king on the facts of the tribes’ insolence and their disdain for the government's authority, and of the consequences should this situation continue. Therefore, it seems likely that with the prince's coming a division of the army will be marching northeast in the very near future.”
Silence reigned for a moment, then Sennefer, driven by his love of chatter, resumed, “His Majesty the King threw a banquet for the prince, attended by all the members of the royal family. At their head were Pharaoh and the princesses.”
Djedef's heart pounded at the mention of the princesses — and especially of the enchanting princess with all her magnificent beauty and pride. He sighed, without realizing that the sound had attracted Sennefer's ears. The young man looked at him in reproach and said, “By the truth of Ptah, you aren't paying attention when I speak!”
Dismayed, Djedef said, “How can you claim that?”
“Because you sighed like one who is unable to think while his mind has gone off to his sweetheart.”
The pounding of Djedef's heart worsened. He tried to speak, but Sennefer did not let him, as, laughing loudly, he said with interest, “Who is she? Come on, who is she, Djedef? Ah… you're giving me a look of denial. I won't press you now, because I will know her one day, when she's the mother of your children. What memories! Do you know, O Djedef, that I sighed the same way in this same room two years ago, and spent nights deluding myself with fantasies and dreams? And the next year she became my dear wife — today she is the mother of my son, Fana. What a room this is, so charged with passion! But why don't you tell me who she is?”
Djedef replied, with grief-edged sharpness, “You're deluded, Sennefer!”
“Deluded, am I? Youth, good looks, and strength — and already all dull and dried up? Impossible.”
“Sennefer — it's true.”
“As you wish, O Djedef — I — won't insist that you answer the question. But, — while — we're on the subject of romance, I'll tell you that I heard — whispers circulating in the corridors of Pharaoh's palace, — which hint at other reasons for Prince Ipuwer's visit than the — war I mentioned.”
“What do you mean?”
“They say that the prince will be given a chance to see the youngest of the princesses up close — and she is of proverbial beauty. Perhaps there the people of Egypt will soon hear the news of the engagement of Prince Ipuwer to Princess Meresankh.”