The Egyptian by Mika Waltari

Posted by admin_akashic on Mar 4th, 2022 in Stories

She touched my cheek with her hand and said, “Am I already so old and fat and ugly that when you meet me for the first time for years, you think only of your stomach? And you were never wont to fear headaches in my company but so eager for those crocodile’s tails that I had to restrain you.”

Her words depressed me, for she spoke the truth, and it is often the truth that depresses people. So I said to her, “Oh, Merit my friend, I am already old, and no use for anything.” But she said, “You think you are old, but your eyes are far from old when you look at me, and I am very glad of this.” Then I said to her, “Merit, for the sake of our friendship, make haste to bring me a tailful lest I become outrageous in my manner toward you, which would ill become my dignity as a royal skull opener — especially in Thebes and in a harbour tavern.”

She brought me the drink and set the shell cup onto my palm, and I lifted my hand and drank from it, and the crocodile’s tail burned my throat, which was accustomed now to mellow wines, yet the burning was sweet to me for my other hand still rested upon Merit’s flank. I said to her, “Merit, you once told me that a lie may be sweeter than the truth to one who is alone and whose first spring has finished its bloom. And so I tell you that my heart is still young and flowers at the sight of you, and long are the years that have severed us, and not one day of them has passed but I have whispered your name to the wind; and I have sent my greeting to you with the swallows as they flew upstream, and every morning I have awakened from a dream whispering your name.”

She looked at me, and in my sight she was still slender and beautiful, and in the depths of her eyes was a glint of smiles and sorrow like the surface of black water at the bottom of a deep well. She stroked my cheek with her hand and said, “You speak beautifully, Sinuhe, my friend. Why should I not also confess that my heart has yearned for you, and my hands have sought yours when at night I have lain alone upon my mat — and whenever some man has started talking nonsense to me by reason of the crocodile’s tail, I remembered you with sadness. But in Pharaoh’s golden house there must be many fair women, and no doubt as a physician of the court you have used your leisure hours conscientiously curing them.”

443

It is true that I had taken pleasure with some of the court ladies who in their boredom came to ask my professional advice, for their skin was smooth as fruit’s skin and soft as down, and especially in winter it was warmer to lie two in a bed than alone. But it was all so trivial and vain that I have not troubled to record it in my book for it left no mark in me. So I said to her, “Merit, although it is true that I have not always slept alone, you are still the only woman who is my friend.” The crocodile’s tail had started working within me, and my body was growing as young as my heart, and a sweet fire ran through my veins as I said to her, “Doubtless many men have shared your mat during this time, but you would do well to warn them of me as long as I remain in Thebes, for when roused, I am a violent man, and when I fought against the Habirus, the soldiers of Horemheb named me the Son of the Wild Ass.”

She raised her hands in mock terror and said, “That is what I have so greatly dreaded, for Kaptah has told me of many wild skirmishes and brawls into which you were led by your fiery nature in various countries and from which you were rescued your head intact only through his composure and loyalty. But you must keep in mind my father has a club hidden under his seat, and he allows no disturbances in this house.”

When I heard Kaptah’s name and guessed at all the shameless lies he must have told Merit of myself and my life in foreign lands, my heart melted within me, and tears streamed from my eyes as I cried, “Where is Kaptah, my former slave and servant, that I may embrace him for my heart has missed him sorely, though it diminishes my dignity for he is but a former slave?”

Merit strove to curb me and said, “Truly I see that you are unaccustomed to drinking crocodile’s tail, and my father is already looking wrathfully in our direction and reaching under his seat because of your bad noise. But you will not see Kaptah before evening, for his time is taken up with important business at the corn exchange and in wine taverns where major corn deals take place, and I think you will be greatly astounded when you meet him, for he hardly remembers that he was once a slave and carried your sandals on a stick across his shoulders. It is better I will take you out for a breath of cool air to clear your head from the crocodile’s tail before he comes. You will doubtless wish to see how Thebes has changed since you were here, and in this way we can be alone.”

444