Meanwhile, Horemheb had thought things through and calmed down and said imitating Thutmose, “Nefertiti, the royal one, how could I think of any other woman after seeing you, and I care not for your court women for I have rejoiced with them many enough times to know that their limbs are smooth like eggshell and soft like down, but their heads are empty like dung cake, and it does not amaze me that they need to use false backs in their heads. But you, Nefertiti, are an intelligent woman and have inherited the cold brightness of your eyes from your father, whose statesmanship is great if old-fashioned. But let me hear from you why you don’t talk sense to Pharaoh but let him drown deeper into his madness so that we don’t know any more if we are standing on our heels or head, and black becomes white in our eyes.”
Nefertiti looked about and saw we had no company, saying, “His manhood is weak and feminine, and if I tell him something that is unpleasant, his manhood departs entirely. So it is better for me not to talk about matters of state to him, even if all matters of state were going to an abyss of the underworld, for more important than them is for me to give him a son. There I cannot allow him to turn from me to another woman. But as time goes by, smile freezes on my mouth, and my temples ache thinking about his madness so that his every touch becomes repulsive to me, and it gives me stomach ache to swallow every sharp word that might hurt him. You, Sinuhe, being a physician, could explain it better than me for truly I thought my fate would be better as the great royal consort, but he has turned me into a cow that carries a child every year, so that my cheeks become thin, and the brightness of my eyes dims, and my body turns ugly though I am still young and should have time to blossom longer.”
We said in one voice that she greatly exaggerated the changes that childbirth had done to her body, which was true, for her body was still slim and fair like that of a young girl, and she pretended not to notice how her dress opened and revealed her smooth belly. But Thutmose became thoughtful and said, “I understand everything else you say, but I cannot understand how you can say his manhood is weak and feminine for you have no other experience and nothing to compare with?”
This time, Nefertiti blushed heavily and lowered her gaze and became uncertain, which pleased me greatly as it proved she was still innocent. Thinking for a while, she said, “Thutmose is indiscreet, but what else can be expected from him for he was born with dung between
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his toes. I have read poems, and although I cannot really make comparisons, I have at least watched builders when they take off their sweaty loincloths and go swimming in the river. But poems tell me more than my eyes.” She smiled faintly and repeated in low voice, “I wish I was the garment wrapped about your waist, I wish I was the smell of balm in your hair, I wish I was wine in your mouth.” She sighed and said, “Thus speak the poets but he — he speaks only of Aten even in bed, and I don’t think a woman can have a worse fate than that. What joy does my fair face bring to me if Spring wind has never kissed it.”
Thutmose approached her with his joyful, brown eyes black from emotion and said, “Nefertiti, mock not my descent for I was born in a house of chariots, and the blood of soldiers runs throughout my veins even if my hands make stone come alive. Nefertiti, raise your hand, and Spring wind kisses your face, and hot blood kisses your body.”
Nefertiti smiled dreamily and stared into the distance for a while, her eyes bright. Slowly, she tilted the cup in her hand and let the remaining wine pour to the ground from the cup and watched how it disappeared into the dust of the floor. Then she put the cup away and stood up and approached Thutmose and wiped the sweaty hair from his forehead and touched his forehead with her mouth, breathing quietly. She was not sorry for having this conversation but it had brought her great pleasure, and even as she was leaving, she was trembling for the sake of our words. But after she was gone, I said to Thutmose:
“Your eyes glow like you had a fever, and you sweat too much. I think a little journey might do you good and refresh you. For the sake of Aten, it would be wise to follow Horemheb to Memphis and there sculpt his image so that he could erect it in his home town Nen-nesu like you promised. Memphis has pretty girls too, and they say its wines are good.”
But Thutmose said, “You talk like a silly wife, Sinuhe, for I have countless works to finish here, and the will to create simmers in me like sap in a tree. I can easily sculpt Horemheb’s image here once I first draw him and get the support points of his body and make a plaster copy of his face.”
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