The Egyptian (41 page)

I told him of the Crocodile’s Tail, and he appeared so much interested that I ventured to beg for a special guard to be posted at Kaptah’s tavern. He gave the necessary orders to the officer of the watch, who promised to pick out some reliable older men for the purpose. In this way I was able to do Kaptah a service that cost me nothing.

I was by then aware that the Crocodile’s Tail contained a number of small private rooms where grave robbers and receivers of stolen goods were wont to settle their accounts and where at times distinguished ladies kept appointments with muscular porters from the harbor. I took Horemheb to such a room. Merit brought him a crocodile’s tail in a shell; he swallowed it at one draught, coughed somewhat and said, “O—oh!” He asked for another, and when Merit had gone to fetch it, he remarked that she was a beautiful woman and asked what there was between us. I assured him that there was nothing; nevertheless I was glad that Merit had not yet acquired her new open-fronted dress. But Horemheb made no advances; he offered her respectful thanks, and taking the cup upon the flat of his hand, he tasted it warily.

With a deep sigh he said, “Sinuhe, tomorrow blood will flow through the streets of Thebes, and I can do nothing to prevent it. Pharaoh is my friend, and I love him despite his madness; I once covered him with my shoulder cloth, and it was then that my falcon bound our destinies together. Perhaps I love him because of his madness, but I will not be involved in this struggle for I have my own future to think of and would not have the people hate me. O Sinuhe my friend! Much water has flowed down the Nile since the day of our last meeting in that stinking Syria. I have just come from the land of Kush, where by Pharaoh’s command I have disbanded the garrisons and brought the Negro troops back to Thebes, so that in the south the country is undefended. If this goes on, it can be but a question of time before disturbances break out in Syria. Revolt may bring Pharaoh to his senses—but meanwhile the country is impoverished. Ever since his coronation the mines have been worked by very few and without profit. Disciplining the lazy with sticks is no longer permitted; instead, they are put on short rations. Truly my heart trembles for Pharaoh’s sake, and Egypt’s, and for the sake of his god—though of gods, being a warrior, I know nothing. I say only that many—a very great many—will perish on account of that god. It is madness, for surely the gods exist to keep the people quiet and not to sow unrest among them.”

After a pause he went on, “Tomorrow Ammon is to be deposed and I for one shall not regret him, for he has grown too powerful to share Egypt with Pharaoh. It is statesmanlike of Pharaoh to overthrow him, for then he can confiscate his vast possessions, which may yet prove our salvation. The priests of other gods have been overshadowed by Ammon and are envious—but neither do they love Aton, and it is the priests who rule the people’s hearts. For this reason disaster must follow.”

“But,” said I, “Ammon is a hateful god, and his priests have kept the people in darkness for too long and stifled every living thought, until no one dares say a word without Ammon’s leave. Whereas Aton offers light and a life of freedom—a life without fear—and that is a great thing, a very great thing, my friend Horemheb.”

“I do not know what you mean by fear,” he said. “The people must be controlled by fear. If the gods govern them, the throne needs no weapons to support it. Were Ammon content to be Pharaoh’s servant, he would fully deserve his place, for no nation can be ruled without fear. That is why Aton, with his gentleness and his cross of love, is an exceedingly dangerous god.”

“He is a greater god than you believe,” I said quietly, hardly knowing why I said it. “Perhaps he is in you, without your knowledge—and in me. If the people understood him, he could save them all from fear and darkness. But it is more likely that many must die on his account, as you say, for those things that are eternal can only be imposed upon the general run of men by force.”

Horemheb regarded me impatiently as one looks at a babbling infant. Then, inspired by the crocodile’s tail, he regained his good humor and said, “At least we are agreed that it is time to oust Ammon, and if it is to be done, it should be done suddenly, by night and in secret, and all over the country at the same time. The priests of the highest grades should be executed at once and the others sent to the mines and quarries. But Pharaoh in his foolishness desires to do all openly with the knowledge of the people and in the light of his god—for the sun’s disk is his god, no new doctrine, by the way. The thing is lunacy and will cost much blood. I would not agree to its execution since I had not been told of his plans beforehand. By Set and all devils, if I had known of the matter, I should have planned it well and overthrown Ammon so swiftly that he himself could hardly have grasped what had happened. But now every street boy in Thebes knows of the plan; the priests are rousing the people in the temple courtyards, men are breaking branches in their gardens to serve as weapons, and women go to the temple with washing clubs hidden beneath their clothes. By my falcon, I could weep at Pharaoh’s madness.”

He bowed his head in his hands and shed tears over the trials that were to beset Thebes. Merit brought him the third crocodile’s tail and gazed so admiringly upon his broad back and swelling muscles that I sharply bade her be gone and leave us alone. I tried to tell Horemheb of what I had seen in Babylon, in the land of Hatti and in Crete, until I saw that the crocodile had already clouted him on the head with its tail and he was slumbering heavily with his head in his hands. He lay that night in my arms, and I held vigil over his sleeping, hearing all night the reveling of soldiers in the tavern. Kaptah and the landlord felt bound to entertain them, that they might the more readily protect the house when disturbances began. But I did not enjoy myself, for I reflected that in every house in Thebes knives were being whetted, stakes sharpened, and pestles bound with copper. I think there were few in the city who slept that night—certainly Pharaoh was not among them—but Horemheb, a warrior born, slept soundly.

All night long the crowds watched before the temple. The poor lay on the cool lawns of the flower gardens while the priests made continual and lavish sacrifice to Ammon and dispensed sacrificial meat, bread, and wine to the people. They called on Ammon in a loud voice and promised eternal life to all who believed in him and gave their lives for his sake.

The priests might have prevented bloodshed if they had so wished. They had but to submit, and Pharaoh would have left them in peace and not persecuted them since his god abominated persecution and hatred. But power and wealth had gone to their heads so that not even death deterred them. They knew that neither the people nor Ammon’s few guards could oppose an armed force trained and toughened in war, but that such an army would sweep all aside as rising waters sweep aside dry straw. They desired bloodshed between Ammon and Aton so as to make a murderer and criminal of Pharaoh, who would then be allowing dirty Negroes to shed the pure blood of Egypt. They desired sacrifice to be made to Ammon that he might endure to all eternity, even were his image to be overthrown and his temple closed.

After this long night the disk of Aton rose at last above the three eastern hills, and cool darkness gave place to the scorching heat of the day. In every street and public place horns were blown, and herald& read aloud a proclamation in which Pharaoh affirmed that Ammon was a false god and had now been deposed, that he was accursed to all eternity, that his name should be erased from all inscriptions and monuments and also from the tombs. All the temples of Ammon, both in the Upper and Lower Kingdoms; all his land, cattle, slaves, buildings, gold, silver, and copper were forfeit to Pharaoh and his god. Pharaoh promised to transform the temples into open walks and the gardens into public parks and the sacred lakes into public lakes where the poor might bathe and draw water freely. He promised to divide the land of Ammon among those who owned no land, that they might cultivate it in Aton’s name.

The people listened to this proclamation in silence, as custom required. Then everywhere-in the streets and squares and before the temples—there arose a thunderous roar of “Ammon! Ammon!” So tremendous was the shout that the very stones and walls seemed to give it utterance. And now the black troops faltered. Their faces turned gray beneath the red and white paint, their eyes rolled white in their heads, and as they looked about them they saw that despite their numbers they were but a few in this mighty city they were seeing for the first time. Because of the great noise there were not many who heard that Pharaoh, to dissociate his name from that of Ammon, that day assumed the name of Akhnaton, the favored of Aton.

The shout woke even Horemheb, who stretched himself and murmured smilingly, with his eyes still shut, “It is you, Baket, the beloved of Ammon, my princess? Did you call me?”

But when I nudged him in the side, he opened his eyes, and the smile fell from his face like an old garment. He felt his head and said,. “By Set and all devils, yours was a potent drink, Sinuhe. I was dreaming, I think.”

I said to him, “The people are calling on Ammon.”

Then he remembered everything and was in haste to go. We went through the wine shop, where we stumbled over the bare legs of girls and soldiers. Horemheb snatched a loaf from the shelf and emptied a jug of beer, and together we hastened to the temple through streets deserted as never before. On the way he washed at a fountain, plunging his head into the water with much puffing and blowing, for the crocodile’s tail still pounded in his head.

The plump little cat, whose name was Pepitamon, was disposing his troops and chariots before the temple. When he received word that all was ready and that every man understood his orders, he rose up in his gilded chair and cried out in a shrill voice, “Soldiers of Egypt! Bold men of Kush! Valiant Shardanas! Go now and overturn the image of Ammon the accursed, according to Pharaoh’s command, and great shall be your reward!”

Having said this, he felt that he had done all that was required of him, and he sat himself down again contentedly on the soft cushions of his chair and let his slaves fan him, for it was already exceedingly hot.

But before the temple stood a countless throng of white-clad people, men and women, old folk and children, and they did not yield before the advancing troops and chariots. With a great shout they cast themselves down so that the horses trampled on them and the wheels rolled over their bodies. The officers saw that they could not advance without bloodshed and called on their men to retire until they had received further orders, for Pharaoh had forbidden the shedding of blood. But blood already was flowing over the stones of the square, where the injured groaned and shrieked, and there was great excitement among the people when they saw the soldiers draw back. They believed the victory was theirs.

Meanwhile, Pepitamon remembered that in his proclamation Pharaoh had changed his name to Akhnaton and suddenly resolved to change his also, to find favor with Pharaoh. When the officers came to take counsel with him, sweating and perplexed, he affected not to hear them, but opened his eyes wide and said, “I know of no Pepitamon. My name is Pepitaton; Pepi the blessed of Aton.”

The officers, each of whom carried a gold-braided whip and commanded a thousand men, were exceedingly irritated, and the commander of the chariots exclaimed, “To the bottomless pit with Aton! What is this foolery? Give us your orders!”

Then Pepitaton mocked them, saying, “Are you warriors or women? Disperse the people but shed no blood, for that Pharaoh has expressly forbidden.”

When the officers heard this they looked at one another and spat on the ground. Then, since there was nothing more they could do, they returned to our men.

While these high councils were in progress, the people pressed forward on the retreating Negroes, wrenching up stones from the street and hurling them, swinging their pestles and broken boughs and shouting. The crowd was very great, and men exhorted one another with yells. Many Negroes felled by stones lay on the ground in their own blood. The horses went wild with the outcry of the people and reared and shied so that the charioteers had much ado to hold them. When the commander of the chariots returned to his troop, he found that the best and most costly animal of all had had an eye knocked out and was lame in one leg, having been struck by a stone.

This made the man so savage that he began to howl with rage and cried, “My arrow of gold, my roebuck, my sunbeam! They have put out your eye and broken your leg—but in truth you are dearer to my heart than all these people and the gods put together. Therefore I will be revenged—but let us not shed blood, for that Pharaoh has expressly forbidden!”

At the head of his chariots he tore into the mob, and every charioteer snatched up the noisiest of the rebels into his chariot, while the horses trampled the aged and the children and the shouts were turned to groaning. But those whom the soldiers caught up they strangled in the reins so that no blood flowed; then they wheeled and drove back with the corpses trailing behind them to strike terror into the hearts of the people. The Nubians unstrung their bows, charged in, and strangled their victims with the bowstrings. They also strangled children, and defended themselves against stones and blows with their shields. But every painted Negro who became separated from his fellows was trampled underfoot by the rabble and torn to pieces. They succeeded in dragging down the driver from one chariot, and they smashed his head against the paving stones amid howls of frenzy.

The royal commander-in-chief Pepitaton grew uneasy as time passed, and the water clock beside him gurgled away, and the roar of the people met his ear like the rushing of a torrent. He summoned his officers and rebuked them for the delay, and he said, “My Sudanese cat Mimo is to kitten today; I am anxious about her because I am not there to help her. In the name of Aton go in and overturn that accursed statue that we may all go home, or by Set and all devils I will snatch the chains from your necks and break your whips; I swear it!”