The Egyptian by Mika Waltari

Posted by admin_akashic on Mar 4th, 2022 in Stories

concerns wine, also concerns beer, even if I have been talking about wine to sound more poetic and arrange my words beautifully because, whatever reason there may be, the poets have not made poems to praise beer — which beer certainly would deserve since, when it needs to, it gives a good, respectable drunkenness and an even better hangover. But I do not want to bore you by praising the many merits of beer alongside wine, but to continue the matter at hand and say that the innkeeper’s profession is the safest of all professions and therefore I have invested in this tavern the gold and silver I have saved during the years. Truly, I can hardly think of a cheaper and jollier profession, unless that of a street girl who does not need founding capital but carries her shop and storage with her at all times and spends the days of her old age in her own house, built on her loins. But forgive me if I again get distracted by unrelated things, for it is true I have not got used to crocodile’s tail yet and it makes my tongue frisky. I mean that the place is mine already, and for the present, the landlord manages it with the help of this witch Merit, and we are to balance the profits until I settle to rest in my old age. We have made an agreement to this effect and have sworn to it by all the thousand gods of Egypt so I do not think he will steal from me more than is reasonable — for he is a pious man and goes to the Temple at the festivals to make sacrifice, although I believe he does this partly because several of the priests come here, and they are good customers for one or two crocodile’s tails do not strike them down since they are used to strong wines of their own vineyards and enjoy them in jarfuls. Yet I do not doubt his piety for it is no more than fitting that a wise man combines his commercial and spiritual affairs, nor… nor… indeed I forget where I was and what I meant to say, for this is a day of great rejoicing for me, and I rejoice most of all that you have taken no offence but still regard me as your servant although I am the landlord of a tavern which is not considered respectable by everyone.”

After this long speech, Kaptah began to slur and then wept, laying his head in my lap and throwing his arms about my knees, overwhelmed by emotion and significantly drunk. Taking him by the shoulders, I jerked him into his seat again and said to him, “Truly, I do not think you could have found a more suitable occupation for the security of your old age, yet there is one point which I do not understand. If the landlord knows that his tavern is so profitable and he possesses the secret of the crocodile’s tail, why did he agree to sell it to you instead of keeping the profits for himself?”

355

Kaptah regarded me reproachfully with tears in his one eye, and said, “Have I not said a thousand times that you have a wonderful gift for poisoning all my joy with your common sense, which is more bitter than wormwood. Isn’t it enough when I say as he does, that we have been friends from our youth up and love each other as brothers, and we desire to share our happiness and good fortune. I see from your look that this does not suffice for you like it did not suffice for me, and I confess that of course in this deal also a jackal lies concealed. For the rumours have it that there will be widespread disturbances when Amun and Pharaoh’s god strive with one another for power — and as you know the taverns suffer first at such times, and their shutters are broken open and their landlords whipped and cast into the river, jars are overturned and the furniture knocked to pieces, and in the worst cases, when the jars have been drunk dry, the whole house is set on fire. This is the more certain to happen if the owner is on the wrong side, and this man is a man of Amun and everyone knows it so that he hardly has time to change his skin any more. He has had doubts of Amun since hearing that Amun has begun to sell land, and I have of course done my best to fan these doubts although a man who is afraid of the future could just as easily slip on a fruit skin on the street or a roof tile may drop on his head or he may be driven over by oxen pulling a sledge. You forget, my lord, that we have the scarab. I am persuaded that it can spare a little protection for The Crocodile’s Tail although it is of course busy looking after your various interests.”

I pondered for some time and said at length, “At any rate, Kaptah, I must acknowledge that you have achieved a great deal in one day.” Kaptah waved aside my praise, saying, “You forget, my lord, that we disembarked already yesterday. But truly I have not let grass grow under my feet, and as incredible as it may seem to you, even my tongue is weary, since one single crocodile’s tail can cause it to stumble.”

We then rose to depart, bidding the landlord farewell, and Merit came with us to the door, the silver bangles jingling on her wrists and ankles. In the darkness of the doorway I laid my hand on her loins and

356