“Where am I to go,” asked the man, “I who am accursed?”
“To the home of all who fail—to hell,” replied the officer, making a sign to his servants.
So they threw him out, and to hell or elsewhere he went very shortly. For that knife of his which Ru had cast after him with so good an aim was poisoned. Moreover, it had struck him beneath the shoulder and pierced his lung.
The officer went into the private chamber where sat King Apepi with some of his counsellors and his young son, the Prince Khian, the heir apparent to his throne. This Apepi was a big, fleshy man still in middle age, with the hooked nose of the Shepherds and black, beady eyes, one who was violent in his temper, revengeful and fierce-natured like all his people, yet very anxious-minded, a fearer of evil.
Very different from him was his son, Khian, born of an Egyptian mother with royal blood in her veins, whom Apepi had married for reasons of policy. More—he had loved her in his fashion, and when she died in giving birth to her only child, Khian, had taken no other queen in her place, though of those who were not queens he had many about him. And now this child Khian had grown up to manhood. He was gentle-natured and soft-eyed, showing but little trace of the Shepherd blood, strong and handsome in body and quick in mind, one, too, who thought and studied, a soldier and a hunter, yet a lover of peace, by nature a ruler of men who desired to heal the wounds of Egypt and make her great.
Before these appeared the old Vizier Anath, and told his tale, reading what had been written down from the lips of the wounded man.
Apepi listened earnestly.
“Do you know, Vizier, who this mad girl is who has a fancy for climbing the Great Pyramid?” he asked at length.
“No, your Majesty, though perhaps I might hazard a guess,” answered the Vizier in a doubtful voice.
“Then I will tell you, Vizier. She is no other than the only child of Kheperra, the Pharaoh of the South, who fell in the battle years ago. I am sure of it. It is known that such a child was born, for as you may remember, with the help of certain bribed Theban nobles, we tried to capture her and her mother, the Queen Rima the daughter of the King of Babylon. It would seem that her gods fought for her, since both of them escaped, and of those who went to take them only one was left alive. The rest, he swore, were all killed by a black giant who guarded them. Now there was such a giant for he fought at the side of Kheperra and bore his body out of the battle. More, he was seen upon a trading boat going down the Nile, and with him were two women and a child, doubtless disguised. By craft these three slipped through the hands of my officers at Memphis, who afterwards were degraded for their negligence, and it was reported that they had made their way to Babylon. Yet our spies tell us nothing of their coming to Babylon, which is strange if Queen Rima and her daughter, who is called Princess of Egypt, reached the Court of King Ditanah with whom now and again we have been at war for many years. Therefore, either they are dead or they are hiding in Egypt.”