The-Egyptian-by-Mika-Waltari

The Egyptian by Mika Waltari

While Horemheb rested his troops on the mountain of victory and while he conferred with his spies to lay fresh plans, he continued to send his message through all imaginable ways to besieged Gaza, “Hold Gaza.” He knew that Gaza could not hold out much longer, and to win back Syria he must have a base on the coast. While he was waiting, he set rumours amongst his men of Syria’s wealth and of the priestesses in the temple of Ishtar, who with consummate arts give pleasure to the valiant. And I did not know what he was waiting for, until one night a worn-out and thirsty man crept through the barricades from the Syrian side of the desert and surrendered himself as a prisoner, begging to be brought before Horemheb. The soldiers mocked him for his impudence, but Horemheb received the man, and at the sight of Horemheb, he bowed deeply before him, stretching forth his hands at knee level, despite his Syrian dress. He then laid a hand over one of his eyes as if his eye was in pain. Seeing this, Horemheb said, “Why surely no dung beetle has stung you in the eye?” I chanced to be in his tent when this was said and regarded it as idle chatter since the dung beetle is a harmless insect and hurts no one. But the thirsty man said, “Truly a dung beetle has stung me in the eye, for in Syria there are ten times ten dung beetles, and they are all exceedingly venomous.”

Horemheb said, “I greet you, valiant man, and you may speak freely, for this physician here in my tent is a stupid man and does not understand a thing anyway.” At this, the spy said, “My lord Horemheb, the hay has arrived.” He uttered no more than this, but I took him from his words as one of Horemheb’s spies, and Horemheb went out from the tent immediately and had a beacon lit upon the mountain top so that soon afterward a chain of answering fires winked across the ridges from the mountain of victory as far as the Lower Kingdom. In this manner, he sent word to Tanis for the fleet to put to sea and sail to Gaza to engage the Syrian navy, should conflict prove unavoidable.

Next morning, Horemheb let the horns ring out, and the army marched away across the desert to Syria, and the chariots drove on ahead as vanguards to clear the route of enemies and to choose encampments for troops along the way. Yet how Horemheb dared give battle to the Hittites in open country was more than

 

 

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I could understand. The troops however followed him gladly, dreaming of the Syrian riches and plentiful spoils, though upon seeing them I thought I saw the sign of death on the faces of them all. I stepped into my carrying chair and followed them, and we left behind us the mountain of victory, leaving behind us the bones of Hittites and Egyptians laying peacefully together, whitening in the sand of the barricaded valley.

 

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I must now come to the war in Syria, although I have little to say of it, since I am ignorant of military matters: all battles look the same in my eyes, and all burning cities and plundered houses look the same in my eyes, and all wailing women and mutilated bodies look the same in my eyes, wherever I may encounter them. Therefore telling about them would be monotonous indeed were I to speak of all I saw, since the war in Syria lasted three years, and it was a cruel and merciless war in which great numbers perished so that Syrian villages were laid to waste and fruit trees were cut down in its gardens, and its cities were deserted.

But first, I must tell about the guile of Horemheb, for he let his troops march fearlessly past the border stones into Syria, demolishing the border stones erected by Aziru and allowing his men to plunder the villages and enjoy the Syrian women as a foretaste of the fruits of victory. He marched straight on to Gaza, and no sooner had the Hittites grasped his purpose than they mustered their forces on the plains near Gaza to cut him off and destroy him — this ground being well-suited to chariot warfare — and they never doubted their victory. But winter was already so far advanced that they now had to feed their horses on dry hay and forage bought of Syrian traders, and before the battle began, their horses fell sick and staggered in the traces, their droppings green and watery, and many of the horses died. Thus Horemheb with his chariots could engage the enemy upon an equal footing, and having once expelled their chariots, it was easy for him to scatter the frightened infantry. His spearmen and archers swiftly completed the work begun by the chariots so that the Hittites sustained a worse defeat than ever

 

 

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