At length one of those guests could bear no more, and spoke. He was a close-lipped, war-worn Grecian general who afterward I learned was named Kleinios of Cos, the commander of Pharaoh’s mercenary forces.
“By Zeus!” he cried, “are we men or are we stones, or are we shades in Hades? Let these diviners divine and have done, for I would get me to my wine again.”
“Aye,” broke in Tenes, King of Sidon. “Bid them divine, Pharaoh, since we have much to agree upon ere I sail at dawn.”
Then all the company cried, “Divine! Divine!” save Amenartas only, who searched the face of Kallikrates with her eyes, as though she would learn what lay behind its cold and priestly mask.
“So be it,” said Noot, “but first I pray Pharaoh to bid all mean men depart.”
Pharaoh waved his sceptre and the butlers and attendants bowed and went. Then Noot motioned to Kallikrates, who thereon shook the sistrum that he bore and, in his rich, low voice, uttered a chant to the goddess, that which was used to summon her presence.
He ended his chant and Noot began to pray.
“Hear me, thy prophet, O thou who wast and art and shalt be, thou in whose bosom is locked all the wisdom of heaven and earth,” he prayed. “These kings and great ones desire knowledge, declare it unto them according to thy will. They desire truth—let them learn the truth in such fashion as thou shalt decree.”
Then he was silent. None spoke, yet it seemed that a command came to the three of us, for suddenly Noot looked at the priest Kallikrates, a very strange look. Next the priest Kallikrates, rising from his knees, laid down the sistrum and taking the beautiful cup that Pharaoh had given him, went to the table and washed it with pure water from a silver ewer, then filled it to the brim from the ewer and brought it to me, Ayesha. Now I knew that I was commanded to gaze into that cup and to say what things I saw.
So I set it on the ground in front of me and kneeling, threw my veil over it and gazed into the water in the shallow golden cup.