Wisdom's Daughter by H. Rider Haggard (read the beginning after the end novel TXT) 📕

For a moment there was silence while those brutal men devoured my white loveliness with their eyes, taking count of every beauty of my perfect face and form. Amenartas stared at me and her ruddy cheeks went pale; yes, even the coral faded from her rich lips. Then from between those lips there burst these words:

“This is not a woman! This is the very goddess. Beware of her, ye men, for she is terrible.”

“Nay, nay,” I answered humbly, “I am but a poor mortal, not even royal like to yourself, Lady—but a poor mortal with some wits and wisdom, though perchance Isis for a while to your sight has touched me with her splendour. Come, take the vase ere I veil myself again.”

Then those men went mad, all save Pharaoh, who sat brooding.

“Goddess or woman,” they cried, “give her to us who henceforward can never look upon the beauty of another.”

King Tenes rose, his coarse face afire and his shifting eyes fixed upon me greedily.

“By Baal and by Ashtoreth!” he cried, “goddess or woman, never have I seen such an one as this prophetess of Isis. Hearken, Pharaoh, before the feast we disputed together concerning a great sum of gold and in the end it was confessed by you that it was due to me in aid of my costs of war although, so you said, it could not be found in Egypt save by raiding the rich treasury of Isis. Perchance the goddess learned of this design of yours and by way of answer sent us an evil oracle. I know not, but this I do know, that she sent you also a means to pay the debt without cost to yourself or the robbing of her sacred treasury. Give me this fair priestess to comfort me with her wisdom and otherwise”—here the company laughed coarsely—“and I will talk no more of the matter of that gold.”

Pharaoh listened without raising his head, then looked on me with rolling eyes and answered:

“Which would anger the goddess most, King Tenes—to lose her gold or her prophetess?”

“The former as I think, Pharaoh, seeing that gold is scarce, and prophetesses—true or false—are many. Give her to me, I say.”

“I cannot for my oath’s sake, King Tenes.”

“You swore an oath to yonder high-priest and to yonder man, who looks like a Grecian god clad in a priest’s robe and is called Master-of-the-Rites, but to this lady you swore none.”

“I swore the oath to Isis, King Tenes, and if I break it doubtless she will be avenged upon me. Go your way; the gold shall follow you to the last ounce, but the prophetess is not mine to give.”

Now Tenes stared at me again and I, who hated him with all my soul, gave him back his stare with interest, though this did but seem to inflame him the more. Then he turned on Pharaoh furiously and answered in a cold voice,

“Hear me, Pharaoh. It is but a small matter, yet my mind is set upon this woman who knows the heart of the gods and can pour their wisdom into my ears. Therefore make your choice:

“In Sidon there are two factions of almost equal strength. One of them says ‘Make an alliance with Egypt and fight the Persian Ochus whom already you have defeated once.’ The other says ‘Make an alliance with Ochus and as reward in a day to come sit on Pharaoh’s throne!’ I have taken the first counsel as you know. Yet it is not too late to change that counsel for a second which perchance would prove the wiser, if there be aught in yonder divination,” and he pointed to the blood-stain upon the marble floor. Then he went on:

“Moreover, I have my captains about me at this board and those that serve me wait without with all my fleet, and therefore should it be changed I need not fear to tell you so and to your face. So I say to you that if you will not please me in this small matter, presently my ambassadors go forth to Susa with a message for the ear of Ochus to which it would rejoice you to listen, seeing that without the strong aid of Sidon and her fleets Egypt cannot conquer in this war.”

Thus Tenes spoke and laid his hand upon the pommel of his short Phœnician sword.

Now the face of Pharaoh, bearded thus in his own city and at his own board, grew red with rage and I saw that he was about to answer this outland king, defying him as many of the great monarchs who filled his throne before him would have done. But ere he could speak his royal daughter Amenartas whispered in his ear and although I could not hear her words, I read their purport in her face. They were—“Tenes speaks truth. Without Sidon you cannot stand against the Persians and Egypt is lost. Let the woman go. Isis, understanding, will forgive, who otherwise must see the Persian Holy Fire burning on her altars.”

Pharaoh heard and the anger written in his eyes was changed to trouble. Rolling them in his fashion he looked on Noot and said to him as one who asks a question,

“I swore an oath to you, Kherheb, and to yonder priest, but to the prophetess I swore no oath and perchance Egypt’s fate hangs upon this business.”

The old high-priest paused awhile like a man who awaits a message. If so, it seemed to come, for presently he answered in a quiet voice,

“Pharaoh is right; Egypt’s fate hangs upon this business; also Pharaoh’s fate; also that of King Tenes and many others. The only fate which is not touched, whether it be finished in this way or in that, is the fate of yonder seeress who is named Isis-come-to-Earth, since the goddess will protect her own. Settle the matter as you will, Pharaoh. Only settle it swiftly, because under our rule it is time that I and my company who wait without should return to the temple to make our nightly prayer and offerings to the goddess, the Queen of all the earth, the Queen of Pharaoh and of Egypt; the Queen of the King of Sidon, and in the end the Queen also of Artaxerxes Ochus, the Persian, as one day surely he shall learn.”

Thus spoke Noot unconcernedly and hearing him, I laughed, for now I was sure that I had nothing to fear from Tenes or from any other man upon the earth. Therefore I laughed, which that company thought strange in one who was about to be borne away a slave, and bade Kallikrates give me my veil and hood, also the cloak that I had thrown off when I entered the banqueting hall.

He obeyed, and while he was assisting me to cover up my beauty in the folds of that veil, I noted that alone among all the men here present, this beauty did not seem to stir him at all. Had he been clothing a marble or an ivory image of the goddess, as every day it was his duty to do at sunrise, anointing it with perfumes and garlanding it with flowers, he could not have been less moved. Or perhaps so truly had the priest in him overcome the man that he had learned to cloak all the feelings of a man. Or perhaps it was because that royal Amenartas watched his every movement with her eyes. I know not, but this I do know, that his calm angered me and it came into my mind that were I not the head-priestess of Isis and sworn to her, there should be a different tale to tell. Yes, even in that moment of destiny this came into my mind, which shows that in my soul I had not forgotten the meeting of our lips in yonder shrine at Philæ. At least I have often thought so since, I, who have had much time for thought.

“Priestess, you are mine,” cried King Tenes in triumph. “Make ready to sail with me for Sidon within an hour.”

“Do you think that I am yours, King Tenes?” I asked in a musing voice as I fastened the folds of my veil and arranged the hood. “If so, I hold otherwise. I hold that I, Ayesha, a free-born lady of the ancient Arab blood, am not the slave of any Phœnician who for a little while chances to be a king, but of her who is the Queen of kings, Isis the Mother. Nay, Tenes, I am more, I am Isis herself, Isis-come-to-Earth. It seems that go with you I must, since such is the will of the goddess, but, Phœnician, take heed. Should you dare to befoul me even with a touch, I tell you that I have strength at my command and that ere long Sidon shall lack a king and Set shall gain a subject. For your own sake therefore and for that of Sidon, think again and let me be!”

Now the great jaws of Tenes fell and he stared at me open-mouthed.

“Yet you shall go with me,” he muttered thickly, “and for the rest Ashtoreth rules in Sidon, not Isis, for know that there are two Queens of Heaven.”

“Aye, Tenes, a false queen and a true, and let the false beware of the true.”

Then I turned to Nectanebes and said,

“Is it still your command, O Pharaoh, that I accompany this ally of yours to Sidon? Bethink you ere you answer, since much hangs upon your words.”

“Yea, Priestess, it must be so. I have spoken and my decree is recorded. The fate of Egypt is more than that of any priestess and doubtless King Tenes will treat you well. If not, you say that you have strength to defend yourself against him.”

Now as I answered, I laughed lightly and the sound of my laughter was like the tinkle of falling silver.

“So be it, Pharaoh. To me it is nothing; indeed I would see Sidon, the glorious city, while she still is Sidon, home of merchants, mistress of the seas. Still ere I go, shall I tell you something, Pharaoh, of what was shewn to me in yonder bowl before its water was turned to blood—by dye from that vase which none of you has found? If I remember right, for as you who practise magic, know, Pharaoh, such visions fade quickly like dreams at dawn—I say that if I remember right, it had to do with the fate of a great king. Have you ever seen a king, O Pharaoh, when in place of the chain of royalty a collar of rope is set about his throat and drawn hard till the tongue is thrust from the royal mouth and the royal eyes start from their sockets? Nay? Then shall I draw his picture? Perchance in days to come you would know it again?”

“Witch, accursed witch!” shouted Pharaoh. “Take her, Tenes, and begone, though sooner would I nurture a viper in my bosom,” and rising from the board, he turned and fled away.

Again I laughed as I answered,

“I must go, but it seems that Pharaoh has gone first. Royal Amenartas, watch the good god, your father, for I think that he is too superstitious and that which men believe fulfils itself upon them.”

Then I went to Noot and spoke with him—few words for already the guards were advancing upon me.

“Fear nothing, Daughter,” he said, “you are safe.”

“I know that I am safe, Master, yet be ready to come to my aid when I call, as my spirit tells me that call I shall.”

He bent his head and the guards came up. As I went I glanced at the priest Kallikrates, who taking no note of me or of my fate, still stood staring at the royal Amenartas like a statue cut in stone, while she stared back at him.

They set