The-Egyptian-by-Mika-Waltari

The Egyptian by Mika Waltari

bread and water which I bring him every day. You see, he wants me to take him secretly before Horemheb as soon as Horemheb arrives, and he swears to me that Horemheb will release him and give him chains of gold — and I believe his words for no man can resist the twittering of his tongue. Yet I do not intend to bring him before Horemheb until he pays me a full three million deben of gold. That is a round sum and easy to bear in mind and in my head.”

As he spoke, my knees had begun to quake, and my heart melted to water in my breast, for I seemed to know of whom he spoke. But I controlled myself and said to the man, “Old man, there is not so much gold in all of Egypt and Syria put together. From your words I know that this man is a great deceiver and merits punishment. Bring him before me instantly, and pray to all your gods that no evil may have befallen him, for you will answer for it with your blind head.”

Weeping bitterly and calling on Amun to help him, the old man led me to a little cellar behind the others, the mouth of which he had blocked up with stones that Roju’s men might not find it. When I shone the light of my torch into this hole, I saw chained to the wall a man whose Syrian dress was tattered and back wounded and whose emaciated stomach hung in folds between his knees. His one eye was blind, and in the torchlight he raised his seeing, blinking eye towards me, protecting it from the light which hurt after weeks in the darkness. He said to me, “Is it you, my lord Sinuhe? Blessed be the day that brings you to me, but let the smiths make speed to break these chains and bring me a jar of wine that I may forget my sufferings, and let slaves wash me and anoint me with the finest ointments, for I am accustomed to comfort and a life of abundance, and these sharp stones have rubbed the skin from my behind. Nor have I anything against it if you arrange me a soft bed and send a few of Ishtar’s virgins for company, seeing that my belly no longer hampers me in the delights of love, though I have eaten more than two million deben worth of bread in a few days, believe it or not.”

“Kaptah, Kaptah,” I said and fell on my knees, throwing my arms about his rat-bitten shoulders. “You are incorrigible, and they told me in Thebes that you were dead, but I would not believe it, for I suppose you can never die, and the best proof of that is to find you here in the cellar of the dead, alive and in good health amongst the corpses — notwithstanding that those, who have perished in their chains all about you, were probably more respectable men and more pleasing to gods than you. In spite of that, I am happy indeed to find you alive.”

 

 

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But Kaptah said, “You are still the same vain chatterer as before, my lord Sinuhe. Talk not to me of gods, for in my distress I have called on all the gods I know — even those of Babylon and of the Hittites — and not one of them has helped me. I have eaten myself into beggary because of this greedy guard. Our scarab alone has helped me by leading you to me, for the commander of this fortress is a madman who believes no sensible words and who has allowed his men to plunder me and to stretch my body in a pitiful manner — so that I bellowed like a bull on their stretching wheel. But I kept our scarab, to my good fortune, for when I saw what was to come, I concealed it in a part of my body that is shameful for a god to inhabit but that may have been agreeable to the scarab since it led you to me. Such a remarkable meeting can only be the doing of our sacred scarab.”

He showed me the scarab, which was still foul from its unfortunate hiding place. I let the smiths cut his chains and led him up into my rooms in the fortress, for he was weak and blind, his eye getting accustomed to the light again. I had the slaves wash and anoint him and clothe him in the finest linen, I lent him a gold chain and bracelets and other ornaments that he might make an appearance befitting his dignity, and I had him shaved and his hair curled. While the slaves treated and clothed him, he ate meat and drank wine and belched in contentment. But at the same time, the prison guard wept and lamented behind the door, shouting that Kaptah owed him two million three hundred and sixty-five thousand deben of gold for the preservation of his life and for his food in the dungeon. Nor would he abate one single deben from this sum, saying that he had risked his own life in preserving Kaptah’s and in stealing food for him from the meagre supplies of the fortress. From this, I understood that there were other madmen in Gaza apart from the fortress commander Roju. At length, I wearied of the man’s outcry and lamenting, and I said to Kaptah:

“Horemheb has been in Gaza for more than a week and the old man has cheated you, and therefore you owe him nothing, but I will order soldiers to flog him, and if need be, they can cut off his head, for he is a deceitful old man and the cause of death for many prisoners.”

 

 

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