The Egyptian by Mika Waltari

Posted by admin_akashic on Mar 4th, 2022 in Stories

“Soldiers of Egypt! I say soldiers of Egypt, and I mean you, you filthy blacks, and you, you dirty Syrian spearmen, and I also mean you, Sherdens and charioteers, who most resemble soldiers in this baaing and mooing drove. I have been long-suffering with you and I have trained you patiently, but now my patience has ended; and I do not even bother to order you to your practices any more since you stumble on your spears, and if you try shooting an arrow while running, your arrows fly to the four winds and you hurt yourself and lose your arrows, and we cannot afford that, thanks to Pharaoh, may his body endure forever. Therefore, this day I lead you into battle, for my scouts report that the Habirus are encamped beyond the hills. What their numbers are, I cannot say, for these scouts took to their heels in a fright and never stayed to count them. I hope there will be enough to put an end to all of you so that I am spared the sight of your miserable and cowardly faces and can go back to Egypt to raise an army of real men who love glory and the spoils of war. In any case I let you try one final time today. Sergeant, you there, cut-nose, kick that man who digs his rear when I am talking! Ah, today I let you try one final time.”

He glared savagely at the troops, and the glare struck home — not one among them dared move an eyelash as he continued:

“I shall lead you into battle, and every one of you is to know that I go in the forefront and shall not stay to see which if any of you follow. For I am the son of Horus, and the falcon flies before me, and I mean to vanquish the Habirus even if I have to do it alone. Nevertheless, I tell you now that this evening my whip will drip blood, for with my own hands I will flog any who do not follow me and tries to hide or flee; and I will beat them so that they wish they had never been born, and I tell you that my whip bites deeper than the spears of Habirus, which are of poor copper and brittle. There is nothing terrible about the Habirus save their voice, which is indeed appalling. If any of you quail at the sound of shrieks, stop your ears with clay. That brings no harm, for you won’t hear orders in the middle of their cries, and you must follow only your leader, and everyone, my falcon. And I say about Habirus that they fight

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in a muddle like a drove, but I have trained you to keep your lines and the archers I have trained to shoot simultaneously according to command or mark. May Seth and his devils burn any of you who shoots too early or wastes his arrow without taking a sight. Do not go into battle whining like old women, but at least feign you are men who wear loincloths, not skirts. If you defeat the Habirus, you may share out their cattle among you and their other possessions, for they have collected much booty in the cities they have sacked, and I will not keep a single slave or ox, and you may share everything with each other. You may also divide their women amongst you, and I think you will enjoy a tumble with them tonight, for the Habiru women are comely and fiery, and they love bold warriors.”

Horemheb paused and surveyed his men, who with one accord raised a great shout, struck their shields with their spears and brandished their bows. Horemheb smiled and with a flick of his whip went on:

“I see that you burn for your thrashing, but first we are to consecrate a temple to Pharaoh’s new god, whose name is Aten. He is by nature an unwarlike god, and I do not think you will take much delight in him today. Therefore, the main force may set out upon their march while the reserves stay behind to consecrate the temple and assure themselves of Pharaoh’s favour toward us. There is a long march ahead of you, for I plan to let you fight as tired as possible, so that you cannot run away but fight ever more bravely for your dear lives.”

He waved indifferently with his whip, and once more the troops acclaimed him, then they began to stream from the city in great disorder, each company following its own standard, borne upon a pole. This way they followed the lions’ tails and hawks and crocodile heads, and the light chariots drove on ahead to clear the road. But senior officers and the rearguard followed Horemheb to the temple, which stood on a high rock at the outskirts of the city. While walking, I heard dissatisfied officers talking to each other, “Is it good that the warlord leads the troops to the battle? We plan to do no such thing, for it has always been the custom that commanders and officers are carried in chairs behind the troops, because only they can write, and how else could they write down what the soldiers do and punish the cowards.” Horemheb heard their talk, but only splashed his whip and smiled and said nothing.

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