The Egyptian by Mika Waltari

Posted by admin_akashic on Mar 4th, 2022 in Stories

It was flood time once more, and the waters had risen as high as to the Temple walls, and when they sank again the land sprouted forth in tender green, birds built their nests, and lotus flowers blossomed in the pools amidst the perfume of acacias. One day Horemheb came to my house and greeted me. He was dressed in royal linen with a gold chain about his neck. In his hand he carried a whip denoting that he was an officer in Pharaoh’s household. But now he held no spear. I raised my hand to express joy seeing him, and also he raised his hand and smiled at me.

“I come for counsel, Sinuhe, Who Is Lonely,” he said.

“I do not understand,” I said. “You are as strong as a bull and as bold as a lion. There is nothing I can do for you as a physician.”

“I ask you as a friend, not as a physician,” he said, sitting down. My one-eyed servant Kaptah poured water over his hands, and I offered him cakes my mother Kipa had sent me and expensive wine from the harbour, for my heart rejoiced at the sight of him.

“You have been promoted,” I said. “You are now a royal officer and women must certainly smile at you.” His face darkened, and he said, “What filth it all is!”

He got agitated, and his face started to glow, and he said, “The palace is full of flies that blow on me. The Theban streets are hard and hurt my feet, and my sandals chafe them sore.” He kicked off the sandals and rubbed his toes. “I am an officer in the bodyguard,” he said, “but some of the officers are ten-year-olds whose side locks are still unshorn, and because of their high birth they mock me and laugh at me. Their arms have no strength to draw a bowstring, and their swords are gold and silver toys — they might carve a roast with them but never spill an enemy’s blood. They drive war wagons without being able to maintain order, get tangled in their own reins and get their wheels stuck to the wheels of the next wagon. The soldiers drink and lie with the palace slave girls and are without discipline. In the military school they read old texts by men who have never seen war or have known hunger and thirst, or fear of the enemy.”

He rattled the golden chain about his neck angrily and said, “What are chains and honours when they are won not in battle but in prostrations before Pharaoh. The Queen Mother has tied a beard to her chin and girded herself with the tail of a lion, but how can a warrior look up to a woman as his chief? — I know, I know,” he said and raised his arm when I tried to remind him of the Great Queen who sent ships to the land of Punt. “What has ever been, will ever be. But let me tell you, in the days of the great Pharaohs, the warrior was a man not altogether despised, but now the Thebans look upon his profession as the most contemptible of all and shut their doors to him. I waste my time. The days of my youth and strength trickle away while I study the arts of war under those who would turn and fly at the mere sound of a black man’s war cry. Mark my word: they would faint from fear, if a desert arrow passed their ear. Mark my word: they would hide under their mothers’ dresses if they heard the thunder of approaching chariots. By my falcon, soldiers are made upon the field of battle and nowhere else, and they are tried in the clash of arms. I will stay here no longer.” He smote the table with his whip, overturning the wine cups, and my servant fled with a yelp of fear.

“Horemheb, my friend, you are ill after all,” I said. “Your eyes are fevered, and you are bathed in sweat.”

“Am I not a man?” he said and smote his chest. “I can lift a brawny slave in either hand and crack their heads together. I can bear heavy burdens as a soldier should: I can run long distances without becoming breathless, and I fear neither hunger and thirst nor the desert sun. But all this is shameful in their eyes, and the women in the golden house admire only such men as do not need to shave. They like them with slender wrists and hairless chests and hips like girls. They admire the ones who carry sunshades and paint their mouths red and twitter with tender eyes like the birds in the trees. I am despised for being strong and for having sunburned skin and hands that show I can work.”

He fell silent, staring before him, and at length drank wine. “You are alone, Sinuhe,” he said. “Also I am lonely, lonelier than anyone, for I guess what is to come. I know that I was born to a high command and that one day both kingdoms will have need of me. Therefore I am lonelier than any other, but I can no longer bear to be alone, Sinuhe.