The Egyptian by Mika Waltari

Posted by admin_akashic on Mar 4th, 2022 in Stories

Pharaoh looked at me disbelievingly and asked, “Do you really think you can erase Aten from my heart by opening my skull?”

“I have no plans to open your skull, Akhenaten,” I said quickly. “I will not do it even if you ordered me to for your symptoms do not require it, and a meticulous doctor performs trepanning only when it is absolutely necessary and nothing else can save the patient.”

Horemheb chimed in and said, “By my whip that still stinks of cat, Sinuhe is a skilled physician and gathered his knowledge from many countries and a student of old Ptahor, as you remember, Akhenaten. You can trust your royal skull in his hands without worries, and maybe this operation is performed in time and saves the lands of Kush and Syria to Egypt and prevents all death that will sprout from the seeds of your mad deeds. I do not say this as a doctor for I do not understand anything about medicine and not even as a soldier, but as an Egyptian who loves the black soil and who rather looks at fat children and laughing wives than at hunger, disease and death.”

But Pharaoh was not offended by him, and he only looked at him pityingly, and he looked at me pityingly too for he knew his truth was stronger than that of either of us. Lightened up, he said, “Old Ptahor is dead, and the House of Life has not nominated anyone to succeed him. Therefore I appoint you, Sinuhe, as the royal skull opener, and from the Day of Sirius you have the benefits and profits of this office, and more details you can get from the House of Life. But the physicians of the House of Life do not want to perform operations any more, for the sacred fire of Am— the accursed god has died out, and they are used to cleansing their knives and pincers in his fire. Tell me, isn’t Aten’s sacred fire just as good, if not better, to cleanse their knives?”

“Fire is fire,” I said, “and during my journeys in many countries I have borrowed fire from the altars of Baal and Marduk, and that has not made any patient to complain about festering operation wounds. But these are the worst dog days now, and the priests of Am— the accursed god can try to benefit from that and frighten the people. If you want, I will go to the House of Life and give a lecture to the students about this for I have nothing to lose because I am only a doctor in the poor quarter and my knowledge does not diminish if my name is wiped off from the Book of Life.”

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“Do it,” said the pleased Pharaoh and touched my shoulder with the long fingers of his slender arm, and power came from his fingers like fire had touched my shoulder, and I knew I would love him until the day he died, however mad he was. “Do it,” he said, “and your reward will be great, Sinuhe, and you will be seated on my right side.” But I did not want any reward from him and only wanted to make him feel good, and it was only then that I realised why everyone who loved him made their best efforts to conceal the truth from him though he said he wanted to live by truth alone.

After this, Horemheb took me to the feast hall where the guests had gathered and where the courtiers, envious of each other, competed for the best seats closest to Pharaoh’s table. In Horemheb’s company, I was seated closest to the royal family right from Pharaoh, and to my surprise I noticed how priest Ay was regarded as a part of the royal family until I remembered that his daughter Nefertiti was the great royal consort succeeding the little princess of Mitanni who had died soon after arriving to Egypt.

Radiating his otherworldly truth, Pharaoh was seated at the royal table, and forgetting to eat or drink, I looked around and wondered how many terrifying secrets were hidden behind the smooth foreheads of the people sitting around it. The Queen Mother Tiye had aged and become corpulent, and ageing had made her black features even stronger so that I wondered if Pharaoh’s truth about the equality of all people and complexions was born in his mother’s heart. Like Pharaoh, princess Beketamun had changed her name to Beketaten, and her face was beautiful and painted like a statue. But next to Pharaoh sat Queen Nefertiti, and upon seeing her, I did not wonder why Pharaoh had bypassed his sister and made her to his great royal consort. She had already born two daughters to the King, but there was no sign in her body that she had given birth for she had the proud posture of a mature woman, and she was not afraid to show her belly like other women of the court did. Poets have praised her in so many ways that I will just say she did not wear a single jewel, and as such she was more noble and beautiful than any woman I had ever seen. Supported by a slender strong neck, her face was delicate and fair, and the high crown did not press her head down but only emphasised her posture. Yet her eyes were very hard, and the smile of her thin, beautiful lips too prudent. Her eyes were as hard as those of Nefernefernefer, and the secrets of her heart could not be seen through them.

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