The-Egyptian-by-Mika-Waltari

The Egyptian by Mika Waltari

was Horemheb, and in my loneliness I longed to see again the face of a friend and hear a friend’s voice. I hesitated and thought that he did not need to know me any more if he was ashamed for what I had done. But perhaps enough time had passed, and a lot had happened to me in two years, and perhaps my heart was hardened because the memory of my shame did not terrify me like it had. So I travelled, and having taken a ship along the coast, I made my way inland with the supply column, among the ox-drawn sleds of grain and the donkeys laden with jars of oil and wine and sacks of onions. I came to a small city set on a hill and girdled by a wall; the name of it was Jerusalem. A small Egyptian garrison was stationed there, and there also Horemheb had set up his headquarters to continue his campaign. But the rumours that had reached Zemar had greatly exaggerated the size of his force, which comprised but one squadron of chariots and a couple of thousand bowmen and spearmen, while the Habiru hordes were said to be as many as the sands of the desert.

Horemheb received me in a dirty mud hut and said, “I knew a Sinuhe once. He, too, was a doctor and my friend.” He surveyed me, puzzled by the Syrian cloak I had taken to wearing. Like him, I had aged, and my face had altered, but he knew me again and laughed, raising his gold-braided whip of office in salute and said, “By Amun, you are Sinuhe, but I thought you were dead.” He drove out his staff officers and the scribes with their maps and papers and ordered in wine, saying, “Marvellous are the ways of Amun that we should meet again here in the Red Land, in this filthy, miserable town.” At his words, my heart stirred in my breast, and I knew that I had missed him. I told him as much as I thought fit of my life and adventures, and he said:

“If you want it, you may follow our troops as a doctor and share the honours of war with us for I mean to give these lousy Habirus such a scalding that they will never forget me and will curse the day they were born.” Then he said, “I was a green enough lad when we first met, and I had not washed the filth from between my toes yet. You were a man of the world and gave me good counsel. Now I know more and I carry a golden whip in my hand, as you see. But I won it by degrading service in Pharaoh’s bodyguard, rounding up the robbers and convicts whom in his madness he had freed from the mines. Trouble enough they gave us

 

 

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before they were all destroyed. When I heard that the Habirus were attacking, I asked Pharaoh to give me troops to repel them. No other senior officer cared to compete with me for command, for wealth and honours shower down more profusely in Pharaoh’s neighbourhood than they do in the desert. Moreover, the Habirus have sharp spears and their war cries are most horrible, as I have witnessed myself. But at last I was able to gain experience and exercise my troops in real battle. However, Pharaoh’s one concern is that I should build a temple here in Jerusalem to his new god and drive out the Habirus without bloodshed.” Horemheb burst out laughing and slapped his leg with his whip, and I laughed with him. Then he fell silent, and after another pull at the wine he went on:

“To be frank, Sinuhe, I have changed somewhat since we last met, as a man who lives in Pharaoh’s presence, must, whether he will or not. Pharoah disturbs me, for he thinks deeply and talks about his god, who differs from all other gods, so that I often feel as if a swarm of ants were loose in my brain, and I cannot sleep at night without wine and a woman to clear my head. So strange is this divinity of his. His god is without form though he is everywhere at once, and his image is a circle and has hands, with which he blesses all that he has made, and slave and lord are equal in his sight. Tell me, Sinuhe, is this not the raving of a sick man, and I can only think that he was bitten by a rabid ape when he was small. For who but a madman could fancy the Habirus may be routed without bloodshed. When you hear them cry in battle, you know I am right. But Pharaoh may wash his hands, if that is his wish. I can gladly carry the sins in front of his god and crush Habirus under my chariots.”

He drank more wine and said, “Horus is my god, and I have nothing against Amun, either, for I have learned many excellent curses in his name and they work on soldiers. But I can see that Amun has grown too powerful, and the new god has set himself up in opposition to strengthen Pharaoh’s sovereignty. That is what the great Queen Mother herself said to me, and it was echoed by Ay, the priest who now carries the crook upon King’s right hand. With the help of Aten, they intend to overthrow Amun or at least to limit his power, for it is not fitting that Amun’s priests should rule Egypt over the head of Pharaoh. That is

 

 

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