Philistia .
Then our boat touched dock. A splendid emissary of Pharaoh stepped upon the gangplank—having been a bit quicker than his rival, the equally splendid representative of the Temple of Amon . “Hail, Amphimachus, Lord Priest!” the first emissary called. “I bring you regrettable news: His Highness, Prince Ekosh, has been detained by the war. He’s still in Nubia , subduing rebels, his camp at Fort Semna , some 350 miles south of here.” Delai’s heart must have sunk at this word, even though she could now postpone worrying about her first impression on the Prince. “Pharaoh suggests that the noble Lady, and the rest of your party, should all stay here in Thebes until Prince Ekosh returns,” the emissary concluded.
“High Priest Amenhotep of The Temple of Amon also suggests that you wait here,” the other emissary added.
“When will the Prince return?” Amphimachus asked the two rivals.
“No one can say,” they chorused.
Amphimachus asked us—Delai and me—to consider the matter.
“Oh, please, my Lord,” Delai begged, “let’s push on! I don’t want to be here in Thebes without my husband.”
“I cannot delay for long,” I added. “I must return to Philistia to prepare for the coming campaign.”
Amphimachus nodded and turned again to the emissaries: “We’ll stay here in Thebes for two days to rest and pay our respects to Pharaoh and Temple . Then we must depart for Semna.”
The emissaries, outdoing each other in courteous bows, retreated from our boat, leaving guides for us, and we prepared to disembark. It was good to be on land again and walk around, despite the heat. During our brief stay in Thebes , we visited the great tombs
of the pharaohs—some of which had been plundered during the time since Ramses
III
. “When the king is weak, each man does as he pleases….” A saying familiar to me—as I’ve noted—and one which we heard often in Egypt .
As promised, we were presented to Pharaoh Rames IX, but no real conversation passed between us. Pharaoh appeared tired, and cut the audience short, uttering a few kind words which seemed to be addressed more to the universe in general than to us. We were then given a tour of the Amon Temple ; the priests there attempted to impress us with their good intentions—toward us and toward Pharaoh.
As we left the Temple , Amphimachus whispered, “What hypocrites!”
Then we resumed the long trip south. We changed boats at the First Cataract, where we were joined by several skiffs manned by soldiers. The land south of the Cataract was now—thanks to Ekosh—completely subjugated and safe for travel, but it felt good to have the soldiers along anyway, to augment my honor guard.
Two-thirds of the way from Thebes to Semna, we reached a spot on the Nile which engraved itself upon our memories. It was nighttime, with a full moon lighting up the river and its banks. Amphimachus had retired, but the rest of us couldn’t sleep, and so we relaxed on deck, fanning ourselves and admiring the cliffs which rose on both sides of the river.
Suddenly Rachel stood up and touched Delai: “Oh, Mistress, look,” she said in an awed whisper: “The God Ramses!” We went to the rail and gazed in reverent silence at the cliffs. Staring down on us were four colossal statues, each identical to the others, representing the Divine Pharaoh, Ramses II. The figures were seated, and their massive hands rested on gigantic legs; moonlight reflected off the whites of their eyes. The faces were set in impassive stares as the moonlight picked up their cheekbones. The pharaonic beards which adorned each countenance appeared, alone, to be taller than two men, and great crowns towered above the stone faces. These statues recalled the majesty of the greatest pharaoh of all time. We’d been told to expect them, but never did we dream that they’d be so huge, and so god-like!
Delai clasped her hands in prayer. Ramses, dead for well over a hundred years,
Then our boat touched dock. A splendid emissary of Pharaoh stepped upon the gangplank—having been a bit quicker than his rival, the equally splendid representative of the Temple of Amon . “Hail, Amphimachus, Lord Priest!” the first emissary called. “I bring you regrettable news: His Highness, Prince Ekosh, has been detained by the war. He’s still in Nubia , subduing rebels, his camp at Fort Semna , some 350 miles south of here.” Delai’s heart must have sunk at this word, even though she could now postpone worrying about her first impression on the Prince. “Pharaoh suggests that the noble Lady, and the rest of your party, should all stay here in Thebes until Prince Ekosh returns,” the emissary concluded.
“High Priest Amenhotep of The Temple of Amon also suggests that you wait here,” the other emissary added.
“When will the Prince return?” Amphimachus asked the two rivals.
“No one can say,” they chorused.
Amphimachus asked us—Delai and me—to consider the matter.
“Oh, please, my Lord,” Delai begged, “let’s push on! I don’t want to be here in Thebes without my husband.”
“I cannot delay for long,” I added. “I must return to Philistia to prepare for the coming campaign.”
Amphimachus nodded and turned again to the emissaries: “We’ll stay here in Thebes for two days to rest and pay our respects to Pharaoh and Temple . Then we must depart for Semna.”
The emissaries, outdoing each other in courteous bows, retreated from our boat, leaving guides for us, and we prepared to disembark. It was good to be on land again and walk around, despite the heat. During our brief stay in Thebes , we visited the great tombs
of the pharaohs—some of which had been plundered during the time since Ramses
III
. “When the king is weak, each man does as he pleases….” A saying familiar to me—as I’ve noted—and one which we heard often in Egypt .
As promised, we were presented to Pharaoh Rames IX, but no real conversation passed between us. Pharaoh appeared tired, and cut the audience short, uttering a few kind words which seemed to be addressed more to the universe in general than to us. We were then given a tour of the Amon Temple ; the priests there attempted to impress us with their good intentions—toward us and toward Pharaoh.
As we left the Temple , Amphimachus whispered, “What hypocrites!”
Then we resumed the long trip south. We changed boats at the First Cataract, where we were joined by several skiffs manned by soldiers. The land south of the Cataract was now—thanks to Ekosh—completely subjugated and safe for travel, but it felt good to have the soldiers along anyway, to augment my honor guard.
Two-thirds of the way from Thebes to Semna, we reached a spot on the Nile which engraved itself upon our memories. It was nighttime, with a full moon lighting up the river and its banks. Amphimachus had retired, but the rest of us couldn’t sleep, and so we relaxed on deck, fanning ourselves and admiring the cliffs which rose on both sides of the river.
Suddenly Rachel stood up and touched Delai: “Oh, Mistress, look,” she said in an awed whisper: “The God Ramses!” We went to the rail and gazed in reverent silence at the cliffs. Staring down on us were four colossal statues, each identical to the others, representing the Divine Pharaoh, Ramses II. The figures were seated, and their massive hands rested on gigantic legs; moonlight reflected off the whites of their eyes. The faces were set in impassive stares as the moonlight picked up their cheekbones. The pharaonic beards which adorned each countenance appeared, alone, to be taller than two men, and great crowns towered above the stone faces. These statues recalled the majesty of the greatest pharaoh of all time. We’d been told to expect them, but never did we dream that they’d be so huge, and so god-like!
Delai clasped her hands in prayer. Ramses, dead for well over a hundred years,
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