The Egyptian by Mika Waltari

Posted by admin_akashic on Mar 4th, 2022 in Stories

But Horemheb retorted impatiently, “All this I know better than you, and your chatter is as the buzz of flies in my ear. Let us rather return to what you said of the evil spirits, for my heart is full, and when I have drunk wine, I long for any woman to smile at me, whoever it be. But her robe must be of royal linen, and she must wear a wig and paint her lips and cheeks yellow red, and to awaken my desire, her eyes must be oval like the shape of the moon on the sky.”

Now also I smiled and said, “You say wisely. Let us therefore debate the matter like friends on how to proceed best. How much do you have of gold?” Horemheb said high and mightily, “I have not bothered to measure gold, for gold is nothing but filth under my feet. But I have a chain about my neck and bracelets on my wrists. I assume it will be enough?”

“Maybe we don’t need gold,” I said. “Maybe it is wiser if you only smile, because women who wear royal linen are capricious and your smile might lighten up one of them. There is no one like that in the palace? Why waste your gold, you might need it later?”

“I pass my water on the palace walls,” said Horemheb. “But I know another way. Among my fellow officers is one Kefta from Crete, whom I once had occasion to kick when he laughed at me so that he now respects me. He invited me to go with him today to a reception at a house next to a temple of some cat-headed god. I have forgotten the name of the god, having felt no inclination to go.”

“You mean Bastet,” I said. “I know the temple, and the place is in all likelihood well suited to your purpose, for light women pray much to the cat-headed one and make sacrifice to win wealthy lovers.”

“But I do not go without you, Sinuhe,” said Horemheb and appeared ashamed. “I am of low birth, and even if I know how to kick and wave a whip, I am but ignorant of behaviour in Thebes and especially of the women of Thebes. You are a man of the world, Sinuhe, and you were born in Thebes. You must come with me.”

I was flushed with wine, and his confidence in me was flattering. I did not want to confess to him that my knowledge of women was asslight as his. So much had I drank wine that I sent Kaptah for a carrying chair and bargained with the porters while Horemheb drank more wine to give himself courage. The men carried us to the Temple of Bastet. When they saw that torches and lamps burned before the doors of the house we were to visit, they began to complain loudly of their payment until Horemheb slashed at them with his whip and they fell into injured silence. There were young women at the temple gate, who smiled to us and called for us to sacrifice together with, but they wore no royal linen and their hair was ordinary, so we did not care for them.

I led the way in, and no one seemed surprised at our coming. Cheerful servants poured water over our hands, and the aroma of hot dishes, of ointments and flowers, wafted out as far as the veranda. Slaves adorned us with garlands, and we stepped boldly into the great hall, for wine had made us bold.

When we had entered, I had no eyes for any but the woman who came toward us. She was clad in royal linen so that her limbs gleamed through it like the limbs of a goddess. On her head she wore a heavy blue wig, she had much red jewellery, and her eyebrows were blackened, and beneath her eyes was painted a green shadow. But greener than all green were the eyes themselves, like the Nile in the heat of summer, so that my heart drowned in them, for this was Nefernefernefer, whom I had once met in the colonnade of Amun’s great Temple. She did not recognise me any more, and she looked at us questioningly and smiled at Horemheb, who raised his officer’s whip in greeting. Kefta, the young Cretan, saw Horemheb and ran to him tumbling on stools and embraced him and called him his friend. No one heeded me, and I had leisure to gaze at the sister of my heart. She was older than I remembered, and her eyes no longer smiled but were hard as green stones. They did not smile though her mouth smiled, and they rested first upon the gold chain about Horemheb’s neck. Yet my knees were nevertheless weak as I beheld her.

There were also other guests in the hall, and its walls were painted by the best of artists, and multicoloured lily commons supported its roof. There were married and unmarried women in the hall, everyone wearing the lightest of linen and wigs and lots of jewellery. They laughed at men surrounding them, and the men were young and old,