Now Abi went white with rage, and turned to his guard to bid them drag her from the throne. But she who was watching him, suddenly lifted her sceptre and spoke in a new voice, a clear, strong voice that rang through the hall, and even reached those who were gathered on the steps without.
“There is a question between you and me, O People,” she said, “and it is this—Shall I, your Queen, rule in Egypt, as my fathers ruled, or shall yonder man rule whom by the decree of Amen I have taken for husband? Now you who for the most part have the Hyksos blood running in your veins, as he has, desire that he should rule, and you have slain the good god, my father, and would make Abi king over you, and see me his handmaid, one to give him children of my royal race, no more. See, you are a multitude and my legions are far away, and I—I am alone, one lamb among the jackals, thousands and thousands of jackals who for a long while have been hungry. How, then, shall I match myself against you?”
“You cannot,” shouted a wild-eyed spokesman. “Come down, lamb, and kneel before the lion, Abi, or we, the jackals, will rend you. We will not acknowledge you, we who are of the fierce Hyksos blood. While the obelisks stand that were set up by the great Hyksos Pharaoh whose descendant was Abi’s mother, while the obelisks stand that are set there for all eternity, we will not acknowledge you. Come down and take your place in our lord’s harem, O Pharaoh’s bastard daughter.”
“Ah!” Tua repeated after him, “while the obelisks stand that the Hyksos thief set up you will not acknowledge me, Pharaoh’s bastard daughter!”
Then she paused and seemed to grow disturbed; she sighed, wrung her hands a little, and said in a choking voice:
“I am but one woman alone among you. My father, Pharaoh, is dead, and you bid me lay down my rank and henceforth rule only through him who trapped Pharaoh and brought him to his end. What, then, can I do?”
“Be a good maid and obey your husband, Bastard,” mocked a voice, and during the roar of laughter that followed Tua looked at the speaker, an officer of Abi’s, who had taken a great part in the slaughter of their escort.
Very strangely she looked at him, and those who stood by the man noted that his lips became white, and that he turned so faint that had it not been for the press about him he would have fallen. Presently he seemed to recover, and asked the priests who were near to let him join their circle, as among the outer throng the heat was too great for him to bear. Thereon one of them nodded and made room for him, and he passed in, which Tua noted also.
Now she was speaking again.
“Ill names to throw at Egypt’s anointed queen, crowned and accepted by the god himself in the sanctuary of his most holy temple,” she said, her eyes still resting on the brutal soldier. “Yet it is your hour, and she must bear them who has no friends in Memphis. Oh! what shall I do?” and again she wrung her hands. “Good People, it was sworn to me that Amen, greatest of the gods, set his spirit within me when I was born, and vowed that he would help me in the hour of my need. Of your grace, then, give me space to pray to Amen. Look,” and she pointed before her, “yonder sinks the red ball of the sun; soon, soon it will be gone—give me until it enters the gateways of the West to pray to Amen, and then if no help comes I will bow me to your bidding, and do homage to this noble Prince of the Hyksos blood, who snared Pharaoh his brother, and by help of his magicians and of his spy, Merytra, brought him to his end.”