CHAPTER X

PHARAOH SEEKS TO EXALT A FOREIGN GOD

Pharoah stirred.

At once two ebony black Nubians recommenced to wave their ostrich-feather fans above his restless head.

Again did Shamash, an Asiatic eunuch, hold to his master’s nose a small glass phial of somnific poppy-oil.

Once again did Bekit, his little daughter, chafe with fragrant sandal oil his fleshless ankles.

All in vain! Pharaoh’s frame failed to relax.

Suddenly, with an impatient gesture, Pharaoh pushed aside the ivory head-rest and summoned Dedu, Keeper of the Royal Linen.

The rebuffed, but smiling Bekit, held to her father’s lips a blue glazed goblet filled to its lotiform brim with sparkling Thinite wine. As he drank, the swaying forms of Ata and Mai, youngest of the court dancers, rose from the floor beyond him. Barely had they assumed a single graceful posture before the gold seal-ring upon Pharaoh’s hand flashed in the semi-gloom. He waved them impatiently aside.

Entering softly, Dedu, Keeper of the Royal Linen, carefully drew back the curtains from the windows. These green byssus draperies had served to keep out the brilliant rays of the sun, as reflected from Queen Thi’s “pleasure lake,” on the northern shore of which Perao, the royal palace, stood.

Thus, one might admire the charming decoration of the room, with its green tiled walls, its cedar columns, its elaborately designed ceiling, and its painted stucco floor covered with powdered lazuli and gold dust.

In answer to a hasty motion on the part of his silent master, Dedu commenced to bind him in the long, flaring-skirted gala robes of the day, things of wonder for the seemingly innumerable ramifications of their softly rippling white pleats. A gem-encrusted belt of ruddy Nubian gold was clasped about his slender waist, a girdle broad in the back and tapering towards the front, where a fiercely charging oryx, carved from a solid block of Babylonian lazuli, served to conceal the mechanism of the clasp. The restless monarch’s feet were bound in soft gazelle-hide sandals, sandals dyed a rich rose-pink, gilded and turned up at the toe. Over a padded linen skull-cap was set the royal warbonnet, a magnificent dome-shaped headdress of a brilliant sky blue. From the center of this regal head-covering, and immediately above the monarch’s low and unnaturally retreating forehead, the red jasper eyes of two golden asps glittered like spots of hidden fire, as they quivered upon flexible wires with every movement of the impatient monarch.

In public, the vain and indolent monarchs who had followed Thothmes, Conqueror of Asia, had ever affected the Warbonnet above all other headdresses. At sight of its bright blue inlays the discreet and sycophantic courtiers invariably burst into vociferous applause; the soldiers, with howls of delight, broke into stirring war-dances. With the people at large it was hailed with delight. To them it symbolized Imperial Egypt, an Egypt to which tribute arrived from Nubia to the “great bend” of the distant Euphrates. Thus, policy had dictated the Linen Keeper’s choice, for the fiction of Pharaoh as world-conqueror _must_ be maintained.

Deftly the fawning Dedu encircled Pharaoh’s emaciated arms and wrists with jeweled bands, his hollow chest with the _wesekh_, a broad, flat band of jewels composed of alternate strands of varicolored stones. The tender green of Nubian emerald, the soft rose of native carnelian, the violet or rich purple of Asiatic amethyst and the several red tones of translucent sard and banded agate, were intensified as much by Pharaoh’s swarthy countenance as by the pure white linen tunic over which they were spread.

Finally, the scepter of gold, banded with deep red sardonyx, was placed in Pharaoh’s nervously twitching hand, and Akhten-aton, “Terror of Asia,” shuffled to the door, where his ivory carrying-chair, his sixteen priestly bearers, his sun-shade and fan-bearers, and his pet lion, awaited him.

With the inevitable prayer for “health and long life” upon their lips, one and all saluted the god-king by raising their right hands and crooking their lean backs in the obsequious Syrian mode, but recently introduced.

In the columned forecourt of the Great Hall, the stentorian voice of the Court Herald warned of Pharaoh’s approach and Akhten-aton, Son of the Sun-god, Lord of the Two Lands, Ruler of Rulers, Bull that Goreth Bulls, gave the looked-for signal that should start the forward movement of that great procession which would usher him into the Double Audience Hall with all the dignity of a ruler, whose sway, nominally at least, extended from the further confines of Nubia to the Great River of Mitanni.

Soon, no one but Wozer, Keeper of the Gates, his spearmen and the cooks and butlers, remained within the palace walls. It was with a sigh of satisfaction that Wozer heard the ever-receding tones of the chanting prophets and priestesses of the temple who headed the procession.

As Ptah the Cellarer rolled heavily by, Wozer made a gesture expressive at once of thirst and a good game. Thereafter, Ptah and he forgot, for a time, that there was a gate to watch or fragrant jars of wine to seal. Skull-cap to headcloth, both lost themselves in a high-staked game of draughts!

The Great Double Hall to which Pharaoh had been conducted consisted of a long, high nave. On either side this gigantic lotus-columned nave stood smaller aisles. Both nave and aisles were bathed in the subdued light which filtered through pierced alabaster gratings.

The dimly seen roof was composed of huge flat slabs of sandstone painted blue, and dotted with myriads of little gold stars. The bulging shafts of the columns which supported it—gigantic pillars covered from capital to base with brilliantly colored representations of Egypt’s host of deities—glowed in the shimmering light with a thousand prismatic colors. The floor was of beaten gold, its high walls a glitter of yellow tiles inlaid with varicolored paste hieroglyphs. These seemingly unending lines of inscription extolled the late Pharaoh for gifts which he had given, perforce, to the temples, or lauded him for certain imaginary deeds of prowess performed in unknown campaigns in Nubia and Asia.

At the upper end of the hall, raised upon a low dais, stood the throne of Egypt, the “golden throne of Horus.” As was fitting, its curved arms were supported by the bent backs of pinioned Nubians and Asiatics.

To the right, and immediately overlooking the royal dais, was a balcony reserved for Noferith, the Queen; for Thi, the all-powerful Queen-Mother, and for a few favored ladies of their suites. This balcony, at the moment, was hung with rich embroideries.

In front of Pharaoh’s throne stood painted cedar vase-stands, from whose blue-glazed jars drooped sprays of feathery acacia, sweet-scented mimosa and nodding papyrus. To the left, high upon a lotus-festooned stand, stood a huge oryx-handled bowl of solid gold, part of the Asiatic spoil of Pharaoh’s warlike ancestor Thothmes, the conqueror of Asia. From its fitfully glowing interior rose a thin blue line of aromatic incense, which broke and spread in gray, semi-transparent rings as it touched the gold stars which dimly flashed amidst the deep blue of its lofty ceiling.

The herald’s announcement of the approach of Pharaoh stopped for a moment the sibilant whispers of the ladies, as the court nobles, a line of white-robed figures, ranged themselves about the dais in order of precedence. Soon after, to the acclaiming shouts of the multitude, Akhten-aton, himself, appeared. Assisted by Shamash and the ever-attentive Dedu, Pharaoh slowly seated himself upon the throne of his ancestors.

Following a motion from his long thin hand, an usher threw wide the cedar doors at the end of the hall and, standing upon its granite threshold, cried to the vast concourse of restless figures now visible in the court:

“Long live Pharaoh, our Lord!

“Millions of millions of years to him, even so long as the sun endureth!”

With a roar the accustomed royal salutation was taken up:

“Life, health, abundance and fullness of joy be to Pharaoh, our Lord, forever and forever!”

The crowd of petty nobles, counts, monarchs and captains now pressed forward. With heads bent, spines arched, right hands raised, slowly and reverently they ranged themselves about the lower end of the hall. Were it possible, the forms of these white-robed newcomers flashed with the glitter of well-nigh as many jewels and gold or silver orders as did those of the more exalted nobles gathered about Pharaoh’s throne.

Those who were unable, for lack of space, to gain access to the hall, had perforce, to stand outside in the unprotected court and exposed to the blinding shafts of the vaulting sun. Yet, few complained, so momentous was the step now contemplated by the fanatical young Pharaoh.

Anticipation and, it may well have been fear of the result, explained the unusual sternness of expression visible upon the faces of all present, a tension seldom seen upon the faces of this pleasure-loving people.

For weeks past the Theban capital, nay, Egypt itself, had been a seething maelstrom of riotous priests, mutinous soldiery, and piteously clamorous slaves and petty farmers.

With the speed of a hungry jackal the news had spread that Pharaoh had at last determined upon the final break with the priests of Amen in Karnak.

Pharaoh’s keen interest in the Syrian cult of Thi, his mother, was well known. The new Sun cult already had a certain following, at least among the nobles of the court. At this very moment many members of the nobility had recently bound themselves to support their royal master in the revolutionary step he now contemplated.

It is true that the more exalted members of Pharaoh’s court still continued their visits to the great temple of Amen in Karnak. But the nasal intonation of Ameni, the ibis-nosed lector, had of late merely served to amuse them. As to Pharaoh, himself, the over-powering reek of incense, flowers, fresh-baked bread, and blood, did but sicken him. The glitter in the silver eyes of a host of granite statues, ancestors of his, _ka_-figures of a long line of loyal and devout followers of Amen, both unnerved and repelled him.

From his golden throne Pharaoh’s prominent eyes swept the oil-coned heads of his subjects. One and all were dressed, be-jeweled and anointed as for a gala day. Their loyal shouts of welcome had warmed his heart. At the same time, their enthusiasm seemed to give him the necessary strength for his momentous task.

No sooner was he seated, and the jeweled scepter placed upon a stand at his side, than the nobles on his right, ever the most exalted, pressed about him. Some prostrated themselves before him; some kissed the pointed tip of his gilded sandal, while others, in this case the aged members of his court or blood relations, embraced the pleated skirt that tightly bound his knees.

Suddenly Pharaoh signaled that he would hear no more, and immediately, with a wave of his scepter, rose to his feet.

At once, as if by magic, whisperings ceased. No one so much as breathed. Such a hush fell upon that crowded hall that one could hear without the shrill cries of the quarrelsome hawks, that flew in circles back and forth from the eaves of the roof.

As one, that vast audience sank to its knees. As one, it broke into the stirring shout of welcome:

“Hail, Life-giver! Hail, Electrum of Kings! Hail, Thou who art the very breath of our nostrils! Life, health and peace be thine, so long as Ra endures!”

Then again the same expectant hush fell upon that shimmering hall. Pharaoh raised his hand. His soft, but resonant voice filled the long hall:

“My children! We have summoned you before us that you may hear the words of Pharaoh, which change not! For centuries past hath Egypt been a jest in the mouths of strangers who cried:

“These be the sons of the Egyptians that have raised to themselves more gods than they have days in which to worship them.’ Had we not been hindered by the priests of Amen yonder, long ago, yea, even in our fathers’ time, this reproach had been removed from amongst us! Henceforth, my children, cease to cry upon the Triads; upon Amen, Mut, and Khonsu; upon Horus, Set and Ausar!

“As you all know, the gods of Thebes, of On, of white-walled Memphis, are but attributes of the one beneficent sun-god, of Aton the Glorious, the Life-giver, who dwelleth within the Sun!

“Henceforth, let Aton, not Amen, be upon your lips! Let Aton, not Amen, be upon the lips of your children! Thus, as in times past, Egypt shall worship one god from Nubia to Suan of the North. May Aton’s bright beams embrace you! May Aton’s rays forever enfold you!”

Across the flashing waters of the Nile, where the great temple of Karnak raised its giant pylons high above the palm groves which fronted it, Huy, Great High Priest of Amen, frowned darkly as the sound of the loud applause which followed Pharaoh’s speech, reached his ears.

To Huy and the prophets of Amen that sound heralded the beginning of a war to the death.

But Enana, the Magician, did but smile.