Three Novels of Ancient Egypt

“Ra, Our Lord Creator, Present from the Time of Nothingness, from the time — when the water poured into the vastness of the primeval ocean, over which weighed a heavy darkness. You created, O Lord, by Your power, a sublimely beautiful universe. You filled it with an enchanting orderliness, easing its unified rule over the spinning stars in the heavens, and over the abundant grain on the earth. You made from the water all living things: the birds soaring in the sky, the fish swimming in the sea, man roaming on the land, the date palm flourishing in the parching desert. You have spread through the darkness a radiant light, in which Your majestic face is revealed, and which spreads warmth and life itself to all things. O Lord Creator, I confide to You my worry and my sorrow; I beseech You to lift from me the anguish and the tribulation, for I am Your faithful servant and Your believing slave. O God, I am weak — so grant me strength from Your cosmic knowledge; O God, I am fearful — so grant me confidence and peace. O God, I am threatened by a great evil — so enfold me in Your vigilance and Your compassion. O God, in my old age, You have endowed me with a son; You have blessed him and written for him, in the annals of the Fates, that he shall be a ruling king — so keep all malice away from him, and repel the evil that is set against him.”

Monra recited this prayer with an unsteady voice. His eyes flowed with hot tears that trickled down his thin and drawn cheeks. They wet his hoary beard, as he raised up his aged head, looking with emotion upon the pallid face of his wife, confined to her childbed. Then he gazed upon the tiny infant, serenely raising the lids from his little dark eyes, which he had lowered in fear of the strange world around him. When his wife Ruddjedet sensed that Monra had ceased his praying, she said to him weakly, “Is there any news of Sarga?”

“The soldiers will catch up — with her,” the man sighed, “if the Lord so commands.”

“Alas, my lord! The thread of our child's life hangs on something so uncertain?”

“How can you say that, Ruddjedet? Since Sarga escaped, I have not stopped thinking of a way to protect the two of you from evil. The Lord has guided me to a ruse, yet I fear for you, because in your delicate condition you might not be able to bear any hardships.”

She stretched out a hand toward him imploringly. “Do what you can to save our child,” she said in a pleading tone. “Let not my frailty worry you, for maternity has given me a strength that healthy people do not possess.”

“You should know, Ruddjedet,” the tormented priest replied, “that I have prepared a wagon and filled it with wheat. In it I have readied a corner for you to lie with our son. I have fashioned a box made of wood so that if you lay yourselves within it you will be concealed from view. In this you will go with your handmaiden Kata to your uncle in the village of Senka.”

“Call the servant Zaya, because Kata's in childbed — just like her mistress,” said Ruddjedet. “She delivered a baby boy of her own this morning.”

“Kata has given birth?” Monra replied, taken aback. “In any case, Zaya is no less loyal than Kata.”

“And what about you, my husband?” said Ruddjedet. “What if Fate decides that the secret of our child should reach Pharaoh, and he sends his soldiers to you. How will you answer when they ask you about your son and his mother?”

The high priest had not prepared any plan to save himself if what she warned of occurred. Distracted as he was by the need to save both mother and child, he had given it little thought. Hence he lied when he answered, “Don't worry, Ruddjedet. Sarga will not get away from those I have sent after her. Whatever happens, no crisis will catch me unawares — and my news will reach you very soon.”

Fearing any increase in her anxiety, he wanted to distract her, so he stood up and called out loudly for Zaya. The servant came rapidly and bowed to him in respect.

“I shall entrust to you your mistress and her newborn child,” Monra told her, “so that you may conduct them to the village of Senka. You must take care, and be wary of the danger that threatens them both.”

“I would sacrifice myself for my mistress,” she answered, sincerely, “and for her blessed son.”