As they entered the line of shadow a trumpet blew, whereon all the Court and all the company about her prostrated themselves before the majesty of the King and lay with their foreheads touching the pavement, yes, even Kemmah prostrated herself. But Nefra remained upon her feet, standing alone like one left living among an army of dead men; it was as though some spirit within her told her so to do. At least thus she stood looking at the little wizened man upon the throne, while he looked back at her.
Again the trumpet blew, whereon all rose, and once more her company advanced, to halt near to the throne, on either side of which stood massed a number of gorgeous nobles who afterwards she learned were kings’ sons, princes, and satraps of the subject peoples. For a while there was silence, then the King upon the throne spoke in a thin, clear voice, an interpreter rendering his words sentence by sentence into the Egyptian tongue.
“Does my Majesty behold before me Nefra, the daughter of my daughter Rima, the Princess, wife of Kheperra, once Pharaoh of Egypt?” he asked, studying her with his sharp and bird-like eyes.
“That is my name, O Grandsire and Great King of Babylon,” answered Nefra.
“Why, then, O Granddaughter, do you not prostrate yourself before my Majesty as all these great ones are not ashamed to do?”
Now again something within her seemed to tell Nefra what to say, and while all stared and listened, she answered proudly:
“Because, Grandsire, if you are King of Babylon, I am Queen of Egypt, and Majesty does not kiss the dust to Majesty.”
“Well and proudly said,” answered Ditanah. “Yet, Granddaughter, I think that you are a queen without a throne.”
“That is so, and therefore I come to you, O Father of my Mother, O Mighty King of Kings, O Fount of Justice, seeking your aid. Apepi the Shepherd usurped my throne as his forefathers did before him, and now seeks to make a wife of me, the Queen of Egypt, and thereby to gain my heritage. But by a little I have escaped out of his hands, helped of your Majesty, and now here I stand and make my prayer to you, the King of Kings from whose body I am sprung.”
“Well spoken again,” answered the old monarch. “Yet, my Daughter of Egypt, you ask much. Apepi I know and hate; for years I have waged a frontier war against him, yet to cross the waterless deserts with a mighty host to invade him in his territory and drag the stolen crown from off his head would be a great venture that might end ill for Babylon. What have you to promise in return, Lady of Egypt?”