Naguib Mahfouz: Three Novels of Ancient Egypt

At the door of the temple, the king was received by the priests, who prayed for him at length and walked in front of him to the Hall of the Columns, where offerings were made on the altar. The priests chanted the Lord's hymn with sweet, melodious voices that continued resounding in their hearts long after. Then the chief priest said to the king, “My lord, permit me to enter the Holy of Holies, to make ready certain precious things that concern Your Majesty.”

The king granted him permission and the man departed with a troupe of priests. They were gone for a short time and then the priest appeared once more, followed by the other priests carrying a coffin, a throne, and a golden chest. All these they placed in front of the royal family with respect and reverence and Nofer-Amun, advancing until he stood before Ahmose, said, in a magical, penetrating voice, “My lord, these things that I place before you for your inspection are the most precious relics of the Sacred Kingdom. Valiant Commander Pepi, of immortal memory, put them in my safekeeping twelve years ago, so that they might be out of reach of the enemy's greedy hands. The coffin is that of the martyred king Seqenenra and preserves his embalmed body, whose shrouds enfold grievous wounds, each one of which records an immortal page of bravery and sacrifice. The throne is his glorious throne, which fulfilled its rightful duty when he announced from it Thebes’ word of defiance, choosing the sufferings of the struggle and its terrors over silence under a humiliating peace. This golden chest contains the double crown of Egypt, the crown of Timayus, last of our kings to rule a united Egypt. I gave it to Seqenenra as he left to fight Apophis. He plunged into the thick of the battle with it on his noble head and everyone in the valley knows well how he defended it. These things, my lord, constitute the sacred trust left by Commander Pepi and I praise the Lord that He extended my life so that I could hand them back to their owners, may they ever live in glory, and glory in them!”

The eyes of all turned to the royal coffin. Then all, with the royal family at their head, prostrated themselves and made humble prayer.

The king and his family approached the coffin and surrounded it. Silence enveloped them all but the coffin spoke to their hearts and innermost souls. Tetisheri, for the first time, felt weary. She supported herself on the king's arm, her tears hiding the beloved coffin from her eyes. Hur, resolved to staunch the Sacred Mother's tears and still the sufferings of her heart, said to Nofer-Amun, “Chief Priest, keep this coffin in the Holy of Holies until it may be placed in its grave with solemn ceremony befitting its owner's standing.”

The priest took his master's permission to order his men to remove the coffin to the sanctuary of the Divine Lord. Then the priest opened the chest, took out the double crown of Egypt, reverently approached Ahmose, and crowned with it his curly hair. The people, seeing what the priest had done, all cheered, “Long live the pharaoh of Egypt!”

Nofer-Amun invited the king and queens to visit the sacred sanctuary and they proceeded there, Tetisheri still leaning on Ahmose's arm. They crossed the sacred threshold that separates this world from the next, prostrated themselves to the Divine Lord, kissed the curtains that hung before his statue, and prayed a prayer of thanks and praise for His preparing their success and restoring them in triumph to the motherland.

The king then left and went to his litter, as did the queens. The throne was loaded onto a large carriage and the procession resumed its progress to the palace between crowds that cheered and prayed, exulting and acclaiming the greatness of God, waving branches and scattering flowers. They reached the old palace toward the end of the afternoon. Tetisheri had been much affected. Her heart was beating hard and her breathing was irregular, so she was taken in her litter to the royal wing, where the queens and the king joined her and sat anxiously in front of her. However, she recovered her composure, and, by the strength of her will and her faith, she once more sat upright and looked tenderly into the beloved faces, saying in a weak voice, “Please excuse me, children. For the first time, my heart has betrayed me. How much has it borne and how patient it has been! Let me kiss you all, for when you are as old as I, the achievement of one's hopes brings on the end.”

Evening came and night descended but Thebes knew nothing of sleep and stayed awake in revelry, the torches shimmering in the streets and suburbs, while the people gathered in its squares to chant and cheer and the houses rang with music and song. That same night, Ahmose did not sleep despite his exhaustion. The bed irked him, so he went out onto the balcony overlooking the vast garden and sat there on a luxurious divan in the light of a dim lamp. His soul wandered in the oppressive darkness, the tips of his fingers playing affectionately and tenderly with a gold chain, at which, from time to time, he gazed, as though his very thoughts and dreams emanated from it.

The young queen Nefertari joined him unexpectedly, excitement having driven slumber from her eyes. She thought that her husband was as happy as she and sat beside him full of gaiety and happiness. Smiling, the king turned toward her and her eyes fell on the chain in his hand. She took it in amazement and said, “Is this a necklace? How lovely! But it's broken.”

Gathering his thoughts, he said, “Yes. It has lost its heart.”

“What a pity! Where did it lose it?”

He replied, “I know only that it was lost against my will.”

She looked at him affectionately and asked, “Were you going to give it to me?”

He replied, “I have put aside for you something more precious and more beautiful than that.”

She said, “Why, then, do you grieve for it?”

Making an effort to speak naturally and calmly, he said, “It reminds me of the days of the first struggle, when I set off to seek Thebes disguised in the clothes of a trader and calling myself Isfmis. It was one of the things I offered people for sale. What a lovely memory! Nefertari, I — want you to call me Isfmis, for it's a name I love and I love those who love it.”

The king turned his face to one side to hide the emotion and yearning that were written on it. The queen smiled with pleasure and, happening to look ahead, saw the slowly moving light of a lamp in the distance. Pointing, she said, “Look at that lamp!”

Ahmose looked in the direction in which she was pointing. Then he said, “It's a lamp in a boat floating close to the garden.”

The boatman seemed to want to draw close to the palace garden and let its newly arrived inhabitants hear the beauty of his voice, as though he would greet them on his own after all Thebes had greeted them together. Raising his voice, he sang in the silence of the night, his notes echoed by a reed pipe:

His voice was beautiful and captivating to the ear, so Ahmose and Nefertari fell silent, the queen gazing at the light of the lamp with sympathy and tenderness, while the king looked at the ground between his feet with half-shut eyes, the memories keening in his heart.

Arsina: Evidently related to the Hebrew name for Mt. Sinai (Har-Sinai, pronounced harsind).

Baba: The second month of the Coptic calendar, roughly corresponding to Gregorian October.