Voices from the Other World Read Free Page B

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    Among the customs of the upright king was to pray each morning in the Temple of Khnum. On one of these mornings, he entered the Holy of Holies and secluded himself with the deity’s statue. He kissed its foot, then prayed fervently in profound gratitude, enumerating his many gifts and blessings. He ended his prayer by saying: “Praise be to my father Khnum for having invested me with people’s love and genuine loyalty, for the love of that which he has created is the Creator’s satisfaction. There is no one happier in the world than one who brightens the hearts of others for the sake of his own happiness, and who suffers for their suffering.”
    Because the people of those days worshipped the gods with hearts filled with honesty, faith, and naïveté, the deities would grace them with speech sometimes, and with miracles at others. And so it was not strange for Pharaoh to hear a heavenly voice answer him:
    â€œI granted you wisdom, O King—so why do you place
so much confidence in others?”
    The king was astonished at what the god had said. Distress rising in his heart, he replied with devout humility, “O Sacred Lord, I have served my people sincerely, and they have given me their love. I have been loyal to my friends, and they are bound in loyalty to me. How could this be a cause for reproach?”
    The celestial voice, exalted beyond all equal or description, answered him:
    â€œBehold the tree rich with leaves, whose branches
covered in luxuriant greenery fill up the air. See how the
people take refuge in its spreading shade from the burning rays of the sun, and how they pluck its low-hanging
fruit. Then look upon this same tree in winter. See how
the cold winds have stripped it bare, and how all of
its leaves have fallen, and how its limbs are empty and
exposed like a decaying corpse which embalming has
not preserved. See then how the people forsake it, cutting off its branches to throw them in the fire.”
    Pharaoh returned to his palace, depressed and dejected, pondering over and over again the meaning of what the god had told him. Doubt whispered in his breast and worry ruled his heart. For the first time, he began to envision the dear faces that accompanied him over so many long years in friendship and serenity with an aura of suspicion. He detected behind their amiable chatter naught but honey-coated lies, beyond their smiles only disgusting hypocrisy, and in their shows of obedience but the marks of dread and fear. A wave of violent, malevolent thought washed over him, and he wanted to return to that happy, vanished past whose white pages were now sullied with vile imaginings. It appeared to him that his life, which he had once felt securely to be an unbroken chain of joys, had been spurned by the eye of Fate . . . a revolting farce and miserable misfortune hidden by a mask of fraudulent bliss.
    Prince Sahura observed the king’s strange condition. Confused and discomfited, he asked his father what was troubling his tranquility. The prince loved his father to the point of worship, and the king loved his son as the most precious thing in his world. He trusted him as he trusted himself, so he confided in him the cause of his sorrow. He told him of his fears, and apprised him of his conversation with the god Khnum. Embarrassed, the prince did not know how to banish the phantoms of suspicion from Pharaoh’s mind.
    Instead, the king continued to dwell on these thoughts, and said to his intended successor, “I cannot make an example of the deceivers without tangible proof of their duplicity. But I have arrived at a means by which I might expose their secret selves. So listen to me, my son: Starting tomorrow, I shall undertake a journey to the land of Punt. During my absence, you shall be charged with care of the State. Wait some days, then declare yourself sovereign over the Valley of the Nile. Entice my closest associates with high position and money. Make them