The Egyptian by Mika Waltari

Posted by admin_akashic on Mar 4th, 2022 in Stories

As a sign of his trust, his officers stood behind him with drawn swords and the soldiers who guarded the tent door had their spears directed at my back. But I feigned to notice nothing of this, but bowing to the ground before him, I said:

“My mistress, princess Beketamun, is one of the fairest women in Egypt. Because of her sacred blood, she has preserved her virginity, although she is some years older than yourself, but her beauty is timeless, her face is like the moon, and her eyes oval like lotus flowers. As a physician, I can assure you that her loins are fit for childbearing although narrow, like those of all Egyptian women. For the sake of all this, she has sent me to meet you to satisfy herself that your royal blood is worthy of her sacred blood and that you can fulfil the bodily requirements of a husband without causing her any disappointment since she awaits you with impatience, having never in her life known a man.”

Prince Zannanza threw out his chest and raised his elbows to shoulder level to display the muscles of his arms and said to me, “My arms can draw the strongest bow, and with the grip of my calves, I can squeeze the breath from an ass. There is no fault to be found with my face, as you may see, and I cannot even remember when I was last ill.”

I said to him, “You are indeed an inexperienced youth and ignorant of the customs of Egypt if you think that an Egyptian princess is a bow to be drawn or a donkey to be gripped between the calves. This is far from being the case, and it is clear that I must give you a few lectures in the Egyptian arts of love, that you may not put yourself in shame in the eyes of the princess. My mistress was indeed well advised to send me hither so that as a physician I may initiate you into the customs of Egypt.”

My words sorely insulted prince Zannanza, for he was a proud youth and like all Hittites took pride of his virility. His officers burst out laughing, and this still further insulted him so that he whitened in fury and ground his teeth. But he sought to maintain the suave Egyptian manner, and he said as composedly as he could:

“I am no inexperienced boy as you seem to think, but my spear has already pierced many leather bags. I do not think that your princess will be ill content when I teach her the arts of the land of Hatti.”

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I said to him, “I readily believe in your strength, my lord, but you must have been mistaken when you said you could not remember when you last were ill, since as a physician I can see by your eyes and your cheeks that you are sick, and as a physician I know that your stomach has gone soft and troubles you.”

Ultimately, there is no human being who does not end up believing he is sick when it is assured to him at length and constantly and he starts listening to himself. Deep down, everyone feels the desire to be pampered and tended by others, and doctors of every age have been aware of this and have used this knowledge to greatly enrich themselves. But I had the further advantage of knowing that the desert springs contained lye which loosens the bowels of those who are not seasoned to desert waters. Thus prince Zannanza was greatly astonished at my words and cried:

“You are certainly mistaken, Sinuhe the Egyptian, for I feel in no way ill, although I must admit that my bowels have been in flux and have had to squat by the roadside all day long during the course of my journey. But how you know this, I cannot think, and you must certainly be more skilled than my own physician, who has taken no note whatever of my disorder.” He listened to himself and felt his eyes and forehead and said, “In truth, I do feel a burning in my eyes after staring all day at the red sand of the desert, and my forehead also is hot, and I am not as well as I could wish.”

I said to him, “It would be well for your physician to give you a medicine to ease your stomach and give you a good sleep. The stomach ailments of the desert are troublesome, and I know that a great number of Egyptians died of stomach problems on their march to Syria. And no one knows the origin of these complaints, but some say that they are born of the poisonous desert winds and some blame the water and others the locusts. But I do not doubt that tomorrow you will be well again and able to continue your journey if your physician will mix you a good medicine this evening.”

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