“That is not my road, Officer.  I travel to Memphis to deliver the commands of the King to my cousin, Peroa, the ruler of Egypt under the King.  Afterwards, perchance, I shall visit the high Idernes.”

“To whom our commands are to take you now, my lord Shabaka, not afterwards,” said the officer sternly, glancing round at his armed escort.

“I come to give commands, not to receive them, Captain of the King.”

“Seize Shabaka and his servants,” said the officer briefly, whereon the soldiers rode forward to surround us.

I waited till they were near at hand.  Then suddenly I plunged my hand beneath my robe and drew out the small, white seal which I held before the eyes of the officer, saying,

“Who is it that dares to lay a finger upon the holder of the King’s White Seal?  Surely that man is ready for death.”

The officer stared at it, then leapt from his horse and flung himself face downwards on the ground, crying,

“It is the ancient signet of the Kings of the East, given to their first forefather by Samas the Sungod, on which hangs the fortunes of the Great House!  Pardon, my lord Shabaka.”

“It is granted,” I answered, “because what you did you did in ignorance.  Now go to the Satrap Idernes and say to him that if he would have speech with the bearer of the King’s seal which all must obey, he will find him at Memphis.  Farewell,” and with Bes and the six hunters I rode through the guards, none striving to hinder me.

“That was well done, Master,” said Bes.

“Yes,” I said.  “Those two messengers who went ahead of us brought orders to the frontier guard of Idernes that I should be taken to him as a prisoner.  I do not know why, but I think because things are passing in Egypt of which we know nothing and the King did not desire that I should see the Prince Peroa and give him news that I might have gathered.  Mayhap we have been outwitted, Bes, and the business of the lady Amada is but a pretext to pick a quarrel suddenly before Peroa can strike the first blow.”

“Perhaps, Master, for these Easterns are very crafty.  But, Master, what happens to those who make a false use of the King’s ancient, sacred signet?  I think they have cut the ropes which tie them to earth,” and he looked upwards to the sky rolling his yellow eyes.

“They must find new ropes, Bes, and quickly, before they are caught.  Hearken.  You have sat upon a throne and I can speak out to you.  Think you that my cousin, the Prince Peroa, loves to be the servant of this distant, Eastern king, he who by right is Pharaoh of Egypt?  Peroa must strike or lose his niece and perchance his life.  Forward, that we may warn him.”

“And if he will not strike, Master, knowing the King’s might and being somewhat slow to move?”

“Then, Bes, I think that you and I had best go hunting far away in those lands you know, where even the Great King cannot follow us.”