“Amen the god,” repeated Abi in an awed voice. “How can a man fight against a god?”
“Say rather against two gods, for with the star of Amen goes the star of Hathor, Queen of Love. Not for many periods of thousands of years have they been together, but now they draw near to each other, and so will remain for all your life. Look,” and Kaku pointed to the Eastern horizon where a faint rosy glow still lingered reflected from the western sky.
As they watched this glow melted, and there in the pure heavens, lying just where it met the distant land, seeming to rest upon the land, indeed, appeared a bright and beautiful star, and so close to it that, to the eye, they almost touched, a twin star. For a few minutes only were they seen; then they vanished beneath the line of the horizon.
“The morning star of Amen, and with it the star of Hathor,” said the astrologer.
“Well, Fool, what of it?” exclaimed Abi. “They are far enough from my star; moreover, it is they that sink, not I, who ride higher every moment.”
“Aye, Prince, but in a year to come they will certainly eclipse that star of yours. Prince, Amen and Hathor are against you. Look, I will show you their journeyings on this scroll and you shall see where they eat you up yonder, yes, yonder over the Valley of dead Kings, though twenty years and more must go by ere then, and take this for your comfort, during those years you shine alone,” and he began to unfold a papyrus roll.
Abi snatched it from him, crumpled it up and threw it in his face.
“You cheat!” he said. “Do you think to frighten me with this nonsense about stars? Here is my star,” and he drew the short sword at his side and shook it over the head of the trembling Kaku. “This sharp bronze is the star I follow, and be careful lest it should eclipse you, you father of lies.”
“I have told the truth as I see it,” answered the poor astrologer with some dignity, “but if you wish, O Prince, that in the future I should indeed prophesy pleasant things to you, why, it can be done easily enough. Moreover, it seems to me that this horoscope of yours is not so evil, seeing that it gives to you over twenty years of life and power, more by far than most men can expect—at your age. If after that come troubles and the end, what of it?”
“That is so,” replied Abi mollified. “It was my ill-temper, everything has gone cross to-day. Well, a gold cup, my own, shall pay the price of it. Bear me no ill-will, I pray you, learned scribe, and above all tell me no falsehood as the message of the stars you serve. It is the truth I seek, the truth. If only she may be seen, and clasped, I care not how ill-favoured is her face.”