The Philistine Warrior (13 page)
“I hope you enjoyed seeing
Nubia
,” the Prince continued. “As it happens, my work here is finished, before we expected, and we shall leave for
Thebes
in a few days.”
Amphimachus sighed, doubtless thinking of the trouble his old bones could have been spared had we waited in
Thebes
! As for Delai, I believe she wasn’t in the least displeased to have made an unnecessary trip, so enthralled was she. Even had she known of the Prince’s imminent return to
Thebes
, she would, I think, have wanted to make the journey to Semna anyway. In that instant when Ekosh’s hands took hers, her face began to glow with the look of peace—the serenity for which she’d prayed while gazing at the four statues of Ramses II not long before.
They married in a simple ceremony that very afternoon, with Amphimachus and the Governor officiating. It was just as she wanted: instead of the tense wait for an exhausting, incomprehensible wedding in
Thebes
, she now shared an intimate ceremony with her bridegroom in the isolation of
Nubia
, cut off from the crowded world. That night, after another modest banquet, Delai bade us a nervous goodnight and retired to her husband’s chamber.
I walked out into the moon-filled night and wandered along the shore of a while. Finally, I returned to my room. I imagined Delai, clutching her amulet as she said her prayer to Astarte (I mean “Hathor”), a prayer that she, Delai, might be, for that one moment, Astarte Herself: the field of
Canaan
, blessed by the ploughshare of Spring. I imagined Delai, lying in her Prince’s arms as the great warrior slept. I drank the last of my wine and stared at the darkened walls of my room. The night was still and cool.
I went to my door and called to the first butler I saw: “Tell the major domo to send a girl to my room immediately,” I commanded, and the man scurried away. Soon I had an olive-skinned beauty in my bed, eighteen years old, perhaps, with almond eyes and practiced
hands. The Moon had gone down behind Semna’s hills, and all of
Nubia
was asleep.
During the next two days, I toured some of the the burnt out villages which had been destroyed in the recent fighting—warfare quite unlike what I’d become accustomed to in
Philistia
, with its open plains. Yet new hamlets and markets were already springing up, now that peace had been restored. Dignified Nubian chiefs, no longer enemies, once again appeared as honored guests of Egyptian officialdom; they came dressed in leopard-skin loin cloths, wearing bracelets and earrings of ivory. The blood-matted heads of slain Nubians which had recently stared down from poles around Semna—tokens of Egyptian victory and warnings to potential rebels—had been removed, so the now peaceable chiefs and tribesmen need not look upon them during their visits to the Fortress area.
Nubian clans-people shopped in the bazaars around the Fort; women carried their babies in baskets held by straps around their foreheads, and naked children peered with awe at the figure of Prince Ekosh, standing on the Fortress wall in his bronze breastplate and greaves, wearing his great Philistine plumed helmet. Only a month before, this man whom their fathers now saluted had been a symbol, and the cause, of terror in
Nubia
.
Some of the chiefs arrived with caravans of slaves, seized from conquered tribes deeper in the interior, as far away as the mountains inland from Punt on the
Red Sea
. Others brought presents for the bride: Delai received so many ostrich feathers that she gave half of them to Rachel and still had enough left over to construct a cape of feathers for herself—which she wore, much to Ekosh’s delight.
“Never,” he told her, “have I been so pleased as by your youthful form and fanciful ways.”
“My Lord has himself to thank for my happiness,” she answered.
“May Amon bless you,” he said.
“And Astarte—Hathor—bless you,” she began, but he kissed her, cutting off her reply.
Everyone remarked on how much the Prince had been charmed into youthful joy by his new bride—and it certainly was true.
In another day’s time, all was ready for the trip back to
Thebes
. The journey was slow to begin with, because most of Ekosh’s army was with us, and they had to march on the banks while we remained on the river, propelled by the current. After passing the Second Cataract, our procession sped up, since now the troops could also take ship—and also because many troops were left behind as garrisons at various points along the way.
When we passed the great statues of Ramses II, this time in daylight, I noticed that Ekosh seemed more than usually preoccupied, as though contemplating events in the far distance of time. But I don’t know whether it was the past or the future which he saw. I remembered all the great deeds he’d accomplished, and the troubled nation he served.
Delai snuggled close to him as they stood at the ship’s rail, staring at the monuments of God. Ramses II symbolized power, order, and the harmony which
Egypt
sorely missed…and something about the Prince made me think again of the statues, with their massive hands and mighty limbs, their calm but piercing eyes; again my heart leapt into my throat as I thanked the Goddess for Her answers to our prayers. So far.
At
Thebes
, Pharaoh—and the priestly set—had a gigantic welcome waiting for us. First there was a parade, with my honor guard in the lead. Never had Delai been cheered by a city the size of
Thebes
, and it was also the first time she’d ever ridden in an Egyptian sedan chair of such opulence, carried by crews of Nubian slaves. The Prince rode in his chariot just ahead of her sedan.
Then there were presentations and audiences, and a lavish party, with all of noble
Thebes
present. Delai appeared, wearing the elaborate make-up of an Egyptian princess: green eye-shadow almost to her temples, rouge and perfumes, multi-colored bracelets, rings, and necklaces—and her gown was pure white, open at the front
except for the straps which held it up, something like our own Minoan fashion.
To begin the evening’s festivities, we were given an audience at the throne of Ramses IX. Pharaoh sat in a finely wrought chair of gold, itself raised on a platform of marble. He wore the red and white crowns of Lower and
Upper Egypt
, and held the crook and flail which were his symbols. Behind him were bearers with great ostrich-feather fans. Around Pharaoh stood guards with leopard skin-covered shields and long spears. The priests of Amon got as close to the throne as they could, also dressed in leopard skins and white kilts. At the foot of the platform lay an immense, shaggy lion. Its size startled us—we who were acquainted with only the puny cougars of Philistia—but the big cat was old and tired, and he wheezed at us in a non-committal way.
Despite all this grandeur, there was something pitiful about the little man who occupied the throne. Shriveled in body, with diseased eyes so that he could hardly see, this successor to the great Ramses II, and the almost-as-great Ramses
The audience was brief and formal. Then a banquet. Ekosh and Delai were seated on golden chairs, surrounded by huge plates of grapes and other good foods. Serving girls wearing nothing but huge earrings—and strings of beads around their hips—filled our goblets with spiced wine or beer. One of these young women, I noticed, was the wench who’d been sent to my chamber in Semna. Other girls in transparent white gowns provided music, playing large harps, six-stringed lyres, three-stringed lutes, and double-reed pipes. Some clapped their hands, while others beat out time on tambourines.
There were dancing girls, also naked, their hair done in pig-tails. At the ends of these pig-tails, believe it or not, were tied heavy weights. As they began dancing faster and faster, executing a wild acrobatic contest of somersaults and high kicks, their hair went flying—and I wondered why those weights never seemed to hit them in their own faces, or those of their colleagues.
Unlike most Egyptian noblewomen, Delai did not wear a wig. So she wasn’t very happy when serving girls placed little cones of perfumed fat on the female guests’ heads, including hers. Ekosh grinned, for he was accustomed to this frivolity. And Delai submitted in resignation; so, for the rest of the evening, the fat melted and streamed down through her hair. The smell of perfume, and of the flowers in the room, was overpowering—as was the wine and the wild music.
A harpist approached the happy couple and sang:
Let perfumes tickle thy nose, Oh Great Prince….
And let lotus flowers bedeck thy bride
On her couch, reclining there with thee….
Forget the cares of thy life and picture only
Happiness,
Until that final night cometh when thou must go
To the dark shore of silence….
Indeed, such a melancholy appeal for revelry on the eve of death perfectly suited this court of frail Ramses—him whose power ebbed while that of the Amon priests grew. And yet, even Amon enjoyed power only in
Upper Egypt
; as I have explained,
Lower Egypt
was virtually self-governed by then.
Much was the drink consumed as we tried to match the royal couple’s sweet joy with our own…and I found my wench again, and told her where to locate my room. Soon, bittersweet almond eyes gazed into mine once more…but ultimately, the night had to end.
Amphimachus and I, our duty done, prepared to leave
Thebes
.
He would visit the temples of Amon, Ra, Ptah, and the other great Egyptian gods, first in Memphis, then elsewhere in Egypt, working his way north on the way home to Askelon. But I had to take the shortest and fastest route, and means, because autumn approached, and soon there would be war again in the Danite hills.
We—Amphimachus and I—said goodbye to Prince and Princess. I half expected tears from Delai…I’d gotten so used to cheering her up when she was sad, listening to her worries…and I knew I would miss her. Yet those spells of sadness, it was true, had
all come from
before
her marriage; now she had her Prince, his strength and wisdom and love, and she no longer needed me. I don’t mean she was full of joy at my departure; still, her request that I write to her had lost its former sense of urgency.
“I’m going to love
Egypt
,” she told me. “So long as the Prince is with me, anywhere is home.” We embraced for a moment, and I patted Rachel on her shoulder when she curtsied to me. My ship awaited.
“Good hunting in the hills,” Prince Ekosh wished me, and we saluted each other.
“Goodbye….”
“Goddess be with you,” Delai added.
Water slapped against dock as I boarded my ship, bound for
Memphis
—and finally home once more.
