They were
the last of a series of couriers that had kept the city informed of the
king's advance. For days before, public drapers were to be seen
clinging cross-legged to obelisk and peristyle; moving in spread-eagle
fashion, hung in a jacket of sail-cloth attached to cables, across the
fronts of buildings, looping garlands, besticking banners and spreading
tapestries. Scattering sounds of hammer and saw continued even through
the night. The city's metals were polished, her streets were sprinkled
and rolled, her stone wharves scoured, her landings painted, her
flambeaux new-soaked in pitch. The gardens, the storehouses and the
wine-lofts felt unusual draft for the festivities, and the great
capital was decked and scented like a bride.
Now, on the eve of the Pharaoh's coming, the preparations were
complete. The city was full of excitement and pleasant expectancy.
Only once before during the six years of Meneptah's reign had such
enthusiasm prevailed. When the Rebu horde descended upon Egypt,
Meneptah had sent his generals out to meet the invader, but he,
himself, had remained under cover in Memphis because he said the stars
were unpropitious. And this was the son of Rameses II, than whom, if
the historians and the singer Pentaur say true, there was never a more
puissant monarch! But when the marauder was overthrown and routed, and
his generals turned toward Memphis with their captives in chains,
Meneptah hastened to meet them, decked his chariot with war trophies
and entered his capital in triumph.
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