The-Egyptian-by-Mika-Waltari

The Egyptian by Mika Waltari

He let his hands fall so that I could move once more and raise the wine cup to my lips, and I trembled no longer. The fragrance of myrrh rushed from the wine into my mouth and nostrils, and I said to him, “Herihor, I promise nothing, but give me the medicine. Give me this merciful medicine, for perhaps it is better than poppy juice, and the time may come when he himself desires to sleep without waking.”

He gave me the potion in a vessel of coloured glass and said, “The future of Egypt lies in your hands, Sinuhe. It is not fitting that any man’s hand be raised against Pharaoh, but the distress and misery of the people is great, and the day may come when someone remembers that even Pharaoh is mortal and he bleeds if his skin is opened with a spear or a knife. This must not happen for then shakes the power of Pharaohs. That is why the fate of Egypt lies in your hands, Sinuhe.”

I secured the medicine within my girdle and said mockingly, “Upon the day of my birth, the fate of Egypt lay in certain black fingers that knotted reeds together. There are things that even you don’t know, Herihor, though you think you are omniscient. In any case, I have the medicine, but remember that I promise you nothing.”

He smiled, raised his hands in farewell and said, according to custom, “Great shall be your reward.” He then accompanied me through the passages, concealing nothing. His eyes could penetrate men’s hearts, and he knew that I would not betray him. I can affirm that the vaults of Amun lie beneath the great Temple, but I do not want to divulge in what manner they are entered since the secret is not mine.

 

6

 

A few days later, the great Queen Mother Tiye died in the golden house. She died of the bite of a small sand asp while overhauling fowling nets in the palace garden. Her own physician was not at hand as is often the case with physicians when they are most needed, and I was summoned from Thebes; but when I arrived at the golden house, I could do no more than to certify her death. Yet her physician could not be blamed for this for the bite of the small sand asp is always fatal unless the wound can be incised before the pulse has beaten a hundred times, and the veins above it closed.

 

 

479

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Custom required that I should remain in the golden house to deliver the body to the porters of the House of Death. Thus it was I who encountered the sombre priest Ay beside the body, and he touched with his hands the swollen cheeks of the Queen Mother and said, “It was time she died, for she was a boring old woman who intrigued against me. Her own acts condemned her, and I hope that now she is dead, the unrest amongst the people will subside.” I do not think that Ay had murdered her, for Ay would scarcely have dared to do that. Joint crimes and shared secrets form bonds more powerful than those of love, and I know that regardless of his cold words Ay missed her after she was gone since years had made them used to each other.

When news of the death spread through Thebes, the citizens arrayed themselves in their best clothes and gathered to rejoice greatly in the streets and squares. Prophecies went from mouth to mouth, and several holy women appeared amongst the people to tell them further bad prophecies. A large crowd gathered also outside the walls of the golden house, and to pacify them and to win their favour, Ay let Queen Tiye’s black witches be expelled from the cellars of the golden house with whips. There were five of them, one being a woman, ugly and fat like a hippopotamus, and the guards drove them out with whips from the papyrus gate after which the crowd ran upon them tearing them apart — and their witchcraft could not protect them. Ay also let all their tools of witchcraft and medicines and holy tree stumps be destroyed and burned in the cellars, which was a pity since I would gladly have examined their medicines and sorcery.

There was no one in the palace who mourned the death of Queen Mother and the fate of her witches. However, princess Beketaten came by her mother’s body and touched her dark hands with her beautiful hands and said, “Your man did an ill deed to let people tear apart your black witches.” She also said to me, “These witches were not bad people, and they did not like to stay here but longed to be out of the palace and back to their jungles and straw huts. They should not have been punished for my mother’s deeds.”

 

 

480

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