Three Novels of Ancient Egypt

A long silence settled upon them, his companions longing for their nightly session of exquisite small talk, so they might forget their ponderous troubles. All of them hoped that the king, after he'd had his fill of projects and purposes, would propose some entertaining sport, or invite them to a party with libations and song. But in those days Khufu complained in his leisure hours of boredom with the palace and its spectacular aspects. When he learned that the time for diversion had come, he would grow weary, looking around at his friends as though in a daze. Hence, Hemiunu queried, “Has my lord filled his cup with drink?”

Pharaoh nodded his head. “I drank today, as I drank yesterday.”

“Shall we call in the lady musicians, sire?”

Indifferently, he answered, “I listen to their music night and day.”

Mirabu interjected, “What would my lord think about going on a hunt?”

The king responded in the same tone, “I'm fed up with the chase, be it on land or water.”

“In that case, what about strolling among the trees and flowers?”

“Is there, in this valley, a beautiful sight that I have yet to behold?”

The king's laments saddened his loyal retainers — all except Prince Hordjedef, who was saving a delicious surprise for his father, of which Pharaoh had no hint.

“O my father the king,” said Hordjedef, “I am able to bring right before you, if you desire, an amazing magician who knows the secrets of life and death, and who is able merely to command something to be, and it is.”

Khufu said nothing, this time not hastening to reaffirm his boredom. He looked at his son with interest, for the king followed closely the news of the wizards and their wonders, enjoying what was said about their rare contrivances. Pleased that he would be seeing one of them before him, he asked his son, “Who is this magician, Prince Hordjedef?”

“He is the sorcerer Djedi, my lord. He is a hundred and ten years old, but still strong as a young tough. He has an astonishing power to control the will of both man and beast, and vision that can penetrate the Veil of the Invisible.”

Pharaoh grew intrigued, his ennui waning. “Can you bring him to me here, now?” he said.

“Please bear with me a few moments, sire!” the prince replied, joyfully.

Hordjedef stood up and saluted his father with a prolonged bow — then rushed off to fetch the fabulous magician.

2

Soon prince Hordjedef returned — with a tall, broad-shouldered man — walking before him. The man's gaze — was sharp and piercing. His head was crowned with a mane of soft white hair, and a long, thick beard fell over his breast. Wrapped in a loose robe, he steadied his step with a crude, massive cane.

The prince bowed low and announced, “My lord! I present your obedient servant, Djedi the magician.”

The sorcerer prostrated himself before the king, kissing the ground between his feet. Then he said, in a powerful voice that made all those who heard it quake: “My lord, Son of Khnum, Radiance of the Rising Sun and Ruler of the Worlds, long live his glory, and may happiness settle within him forever!”

Pharaoh eyed the wizard warmly and sat down close to him, saying, “How have I not seen you before, when you have preceded me into the light of this world by all of seventy years?”

The superannuated sorcerer answered in a kindly tone, “May the Lord grant you life, health, and strength: the likes of me are not favored to appear before you without being asked.”

Regarding him benignly, the king pressed him, “Is it true that you can make miracles, Djedi? Is it true that you can force your will on both man and beast, and that you can snatch the Veil of the Invisible from the face of Time?”

The man nodded his head until his beard bounced on his chest. “That verily is true, sire,” he replied.

“I would like to see some of these miracles, Djedi,” answered Pharaoh.

And so came the frightful hour. The eyes of those watching widened, their faces full of obvious fascination. Djedi did not rush to his task, but stood frozen for a long while as though turned into stone. Then he shot a sharp-toothed grin as he looked them over quickly.

“To my right there beats a heart that does not believe in me,” said Djedi.

Those gathered were shocked, and exchanged confused glances. The monarch — was pleased — with the keen eye of the magician, and turned to ask his men, “Is there one among you who denies the truth of Djedi's miracles?”

Commander Arbu shrugged his shoulders disdainfully, then marched before the king. “My lord, I do not believe in magic tricks. I see them as a kind of sleight of hand, a skill for those who have the time to devote to it,” he said.

“What's the point of talking when we have the man right before us?” said Khufu. “Go bring him a lion and turn it loose upon him. We'll see how he tames it with his magic and bends it to his will.”