The Yoke Part 63

"Nay," he answered quietly. "I can achieve it without help." She drew a breath as if to speak but held her peace. They stood in silence side by side for a while.

Presently she slipped between him and the parapet.

"Hast thou not called me wise in thy time?" she asked. "I believed thee, then."

"I told thee a truth, but I might have added that thou art over-brave,"

he said, catching her drift.

"Listen, then, to me. Thou, in thy young credulity, seest in this only justice to an enemy. I, in the wisdom of riper years and the discernment bred of experience with knaves, see in it the redemption of Egypt. If the heaviest penalty overtook us is it not a result worth achieving at any cost? Seti, believe me; grant me my belief! It is the one hope of thy father's kingdom. Shall it fail because thou wast envious for my safety above Egypt's? I can aid thee to success. That thou hast said. If thou failest, though thou dost attempt it alone, dost thou dream that I could see thee punished without crying out, 'It was I who urged him!' If thou art undone, likewise am I. If thou art to succeed, wilt thou selfishly keep thy success to thyself?"

She slipped her arm about his neck and pressed close to him.

"Nay, Seti, thou dost overestimate the peril. The Hebrew will not betray us, and who else will know of it? I shall make a journey into Goshen, find Mesu and bid him meet thee at a certain place. There thou shalt come at a certain time with the treasure, and the feat is done.

But if we fail--" she flung her head back and bewitched him with a heavy eye--"will it be hard for me to persuade the king?"

Seti contemplated her with bewilderment in his face. The youth and innocence in his young soul revolted, but there was another element that yielded and was pleased.

"Have it thy way, Ta-user," he said, with hesitation in his words, while he continued to gaze helplessly into her compelling eyes.

She laughed and kissed him. "I will see thee again soon." Putting him back from her, she descended the stairway.

In the shadow at the foot she came upon two figures, walking close together, the taller of the two bending over the smaller. The pair started apart at sight of the princess.

"A blessing on thy content, Ta-meri," the princess said. "And upon thine, Nechutes."

The cup-bearer bowed and rumbled his appreciation of her courtesy.

"Dost thou leave us, Ta-user?" his wife asked.

"Aye, I return to the Hak-heb. O, I am glad to go. Would I could leave the same quiet here in Tanis that I hope to find in Nehapehu."

"Aye, I would thou couldst. But is it not true, my Princess, that one may make his own content even in the sorriest surroundings?" Nechutes asked.

"For himself, even so. But the very making of one's selfish content may work havoc with the peace of another. That I have seen."

"Aye," Nechutes responded uncomfortably, wondering if the princess meant to confess her disappointment to them.

"It makes me quarrel at the Hathors. The most of us deserve the ills that overtake us. But he--alas--none but the good could sing as he sang!"

The cup-bearer dropped his indifference immediately.

"Ha! Whom dost thou mean?" he demanded.

"Oh!" the princess exclaimed. "Perchance I give thee news."

"If thou meanest Kenkenes, indeed thou dost give us news. What of him?

We know that he is dead. Is there anything further?"

"Of a truth, dost thou not know? Nay, then, far be it from me to tell thee--anything." She pa.s.sed round them and started to go on. In a few paces, Nechutes overtook her.

"Give us thy meaning, Ta-user," he said earnestly. "Kenkenes was near to me--to Ta-meri. What knowest thou?"

"The court buzzes with it. Strange indeed that ye heard it not. It is said, and of a truth well-nigh proved, that the heart of the singer broke when Ta-meri chose thee, Nechutes, and that--that the disaster which befell him may have been sought."

Nechutes seized her arm, and Ta-meri cried out,

"He sent Ta-meri to me," the cup-bearer said wrathfully. "Thy news is--"

"Alas! Nechutes," the princess said sorrowfully, "it was sacrifice.

He knew that Ta-meri loved thee and he n.o.bly surrendered, but was the hurt any less because he submitted?"

Nechutes released her and turned away. Ta-meri covered her face with her hands and followed him. He did not pause for her, and she had to hasten her steps to keep up with him. The princess looked after them for a s.p.a.ce and went on.

Straight through the corridors toward the royal apartments she went.

Her copper eyes had taken on a luminousness that was visible in the dark. There was an elasticity in her step that spoke of exultation.

The Hathors were indulging her beyond reason.

A soldier of the royal guard paced outside the doorway of the king's apartments. Ta-user flung him a smile and, pa.s.sing him without a word of leave-asking, smiled again and disappeared through the door.

Meneptah, who sat alone, raised his head from the scroll he was laboriously spelling. If he had meant to resent the intrusion, the impulse died within him at the charming obeisance the princess made.

As she rose at his sign, Har-hat entered. Ta-user came near to the king, smiling triumphantly at the fan-bearer.

"The G.o.ds sped my feet," she said, "and I am here first. Hold thy peace, n.o.ble Har-hat. Mine is the first audience."

Having reached the king's side, she dropped on her knees and folded her hands on the arm of his chair.

"A boon, O Shedder of Light! So much thou owest me. Behold, I came to thee on the hope of thy promises. What have I won therefrom? Naught save, perchance, the smiles of Egypt at my disappointment."

Meneptah's face flushed.

"Say on, O my kinswoman," he said, moving uncomfortably.

"Kinswoman! And a year agone, I thought to hear, 'O my daughter.'"

The color in the king's face deepened.

"Wilt thou reproach me, Ta-user, for my son's wilfulness?" was his tactless reply.

Ta-user shot an amused glance at the discomfited countenance of Har-hat and went on.

"Nay, O my Sovereign. I do but wish to incline thine ear to me. Say first thou wilt grant me my boon."

He looked at her doubtfully, but she drew nearer and lifted her face to his.

"I do not ask for thy crown, or thy son, or for an army, or treasure, or anything but that which thou wouldst gladly give me, because of thy just and generous heart."