The Egyptian (63 page)

Eie spread out his arms helplessly and looked at Horemheb. Horemheb did the same and looked at Eie. I sat on the floor, for my knees had no more strength in them, and looked at both. Suddenly Eie smiled slyly and said, “Horemheb, you hold the spear and the throne is yours. Set on your head the two crowns you desire!”

But Horemheb laughed in derision and said, “I am not such a fool. Keep the dirty crowns if you want them. You know very well that we cannot go back to the old times again, for Egypt is threatened by war and famine. If I were to take the crown now the people would blame me for all the evil that must follow, and you would find it an easy matter to depose me when the time was ripe.”

Eie said, “Sekenre, then, if he will agree to return to Thebes. If not he, then Tut; he will certainly comply. Their consorts are of the sacred blood. Let them bear the hatred of the people until the times improve.”

“While you rule beneath their shadow!” said Horemheb.

But Eie replied, “You forget that you have the army and must meet the Hittites. If you can do this, there is no one more powerful in the land of Kem than yourself.”

So they disputed until they perceived that they were bound to one another and could come to no solution save in alliance.

Eie said at last, “I freely admit that I have done my best to depose you, Horemheb. But now you have outgrown me, you Son of the Falcon, and I can no longer dispense with you. If the Hittites invade the country, I shall have no joy of my power, nor do I fancy that any Pepitamon could wage war against them, suitable though such may be as spillers of blood and executioners. Let this be the day of our alliance. Together we can rule the country, but divided we both fall. Without me your army is powerless, and without your army Egypt is lost. Let us swear by all the gods of Egypt that from this day forward we shall hold together. I am already an old man, Horemheb, and desire to taste the sweetness of power, but you are young and have your life before you.”

“I do not desire the crowns but rather a good war for my ruffians,” said Horemheb. “Yet I must have a pledge from you, Eie, or you will betray me at the first opportunity, so do not gainsay me. I know you!”

“What pledge would you have, Horemheb? Is not the army the only valid pledge?”

The face of Horemheb darkened as he glanced about the walls in hesitation and scraped his sandals on the stone floor as if he sought to wriggle his toes into the sand. He said at last, “I would have the Princess Baketaton to wife. Indeed, I mean to break the jar with her though heaven and earth should fall, and you cannot prevent me.”

Eie cried, “Aha! Now I see what you are after; you are more astute than I thought and worthy of my respect. She has already changed her name back to Baketamon, and the priests have nothing against her. In her veins flows the sacred blood of the great Pharaoh. If you wed her, you win a legal right to the crown and a better right than the husbands of Akhnaton’s daughters, for behind them is but the blood of the false Pharaoh. You have worked this out very cunningly, Horemheb, but I cannot approve—or at least not yet—for then I should be in your hands entirely and lack all authority over you.”

But Horemheb cried, “Keep your dirty crowns, Eie! I desire her more than crowns, and I have desired her since the first time I beheld her beauty in the golden house. I seek to mingle my blood with that of the great Pharaoh, that future kings of Egypt may be the fruit of my loins. You desire only the crown, Eie. Take it when you consider the time ripe, and my spear shall support your throne. Give me the Princess, and I will not reign while you live—not though you should live long—for I have my life before me, as you say, and time to wait.”

Eie rubbed his mouth with his hand, musing. As he mused his face brightened, for he perceived he had a bait by which he could lead Horemheb in the ways that best pleased him. As I sat on the floor listening to their talk, I marveled at the human heart, which allowed these two to dispose of crowns while Pharaoh Akhnaton lived and breathed in the next room.

At length Eie said, “You have waited long for your princess, and may well wait a little longer, for you have first to wage a desperate war. It will take time to win the Princess’s consent; she holds you in great contempt because you were born with dung between the toes. But I and I only have the means to incline her to you, and I swear to you, Horemheb, by all the gods of Egypt, that on the day when I set the red and white crown on my head I will with my own hand break the jar between you and the Princess. More I cannot do for you, and even thus I deliver myself into your hands.”

Horemheb lacked patience to bargain further and said, “Be it so. Let us now bring this nonsense to a happy conclusion, and I do not think you will wriggle overmuch since you so earnestly desire these crowns—these playthings!”

In his excitement he had quite forgotten me, but when he caught sight of me again he said, disconcerted, “Sinuhe, are you still here? You have heard things not fit for unworthy ears, and I fear I must kill you, although unwillingly since you are my friend.”

His words tickled me as I reflected how unworthy were these two men now dividing the crown between them, while I, sitting on the floor, was perhaps the worthiest man of any: the only male heir of the great Pharaoh whose sacred blood ran in my veins. Therefore I could not contain my laughter but pressed my hand over my mouth and tittered like an old woman.

Eie was greatly irritated and said, “It is unseemly in you to laugh, Sinuhe, for these are grave matters. We will not slay you, however, although you deserve it. It was well that you heard what passed. You are our witness. You can never speak of what you have heard here today, for we need you and will bind you to us. You too understand that it is high time for Pharaoh to die. As his physician you shall open his skull this very day and see to it that your knife goes deep enough for him to depart in the decent and traditional manner.”

But Horemheb said, “I will not involve myself in this, for my hands are already dirty enough from having touched the hands of Eie. Yet what he says is true. Pharaoh Akhnaton must die if Egypt is to be saved; there is no other way.”

I giggled again, then mastering myself I said, “As a physician I may not open his skull since there is insufficient reason and I am bound by the code of my profession. But be easy. As his friend I will mix him a good medicine. When he has drunk of it, he will sleep, never to waken again, and in this manner I bind myself to you so that from me you need never fear betrayal.”

And I brought forth the fine glass vessel Hrihor had once given me and mixed its contents with wine in a golden cup; the smell of it was not unpleasant. I took the cup in my hand, and all three of us entered Pharaoh Akhnaton’s room. He had removed the crowns; he had laid aside the whip and the crook and was resting on his couch with a gray face and bloodshot eyes.

Eie went up, took crowns and whip, and weighing these in his hands he said, “Pharaoh Akhnaton, your friend Sinuhe has mixed you a good potion. Drink it, be strengthened, and tomorrow we will talk again of sorrowful things.”

Pharaoh sat up on his couch and took the cup in his hands, looking at each of us in turn, and his weary glance pierced me and sent a shiver through my spine. He said, “Men show mercy to a sick beast with a blow from a club. Have you mercy for me, Sinuhe? If so I thank you, for my disillusion is more bitter to my tongue than death, and death today is sweeter than the scent of myrrh.”

“Drink, Pharaoh Akhnaton,” I said. “Drink for Aton’s sake.”

And Horemheb said, “Drink, Akhnaton my friend. Drink that Egypt may be saved. With my shoulder cloth I will protect your weakness as once before, in the desert outside Thebes.”

Pharaoh Akhnaton drank from the goblet, but his hand shook so that wine splashed down his chin. Then he gripped the cup in both hands and emptied it, and at last he sank back and laid his neck on the wooden rest. He said no word but stared with dim, bloodshot eyes into his visions. After a time he began to shiver as with cold. Horemheb slipped off his shoulder cloth and spread it over him, but Eie took the crowns in both hands and tried the feel of them upon his head.

So passed Pharaoh Akhnaton; I gave him death to drink, and he drank it from my hand. Yet why I did it I do not know, for a man does not know his own heart. I believe I did it less for Egypt’s sake than for Merit’s and for my son Thoth’s. I did it less from love of Akhnaton than from bitterness, from hatred of all the evil he had brought about. But above all I did it because it was written in the stars that my measure should be full. When I saw him die, I believed that it was already full, but a man does not know his own heart, which is insatiable—more insatiable than a crocodile of the river.

When we had seen him die, we left the golden house, forbidding the servants to disturb him because he slept. Not until the following morning did they find his body and raise their voices in mourning. The golden house was filled with weeping, although I believe that the minds of many were easier for his death. But Queen Nefertiti stood tearless beside his bier, and the look on her face was such as none could interpret. She was touching Pharaoh Akhnaton’s thin fingers with her beautiful hands and stroking his cheeks when I came, as my duty required, to attend his body to the House of Death. There I entrusted it to the corpse washers and embalmers, that they might preserve it for eternal life.

According to law and tradition, the young Sekenre was Pharaoh, but he was altogether beside himself with grief, and he stared about him unable to utter a sensible word, having been accustomed to take all his ideas from Pharaoh Akhnaton. Eie and Horemheb spoke to him and told him that he must now hasten to Thebes to make sacrifice to Ammon if he desired to keep the crown upon his head. But he did not believe them, being a childish boy and given to daydreaming.

He said, “I will make known the light of Aton to all people and build a temple to my father Akhnaton and worship him there as a god, for he was not like other men.”

When Eie and Horemheb saw how stupid he was, they left him. On the following day when he went to spear fish in the river, it chanced that his reed boat overturned and his body was devoured by crocodiles. So the story went, but exactly how the matter fell out I do not know. I believe it was not Horemheb who had him slain but rather Eie, who was in haste to return to Thebes and keep his hold on the reins of government.

He and Horemheb next went to young Tut, who was playing on the floor in his room. He was playing at funerals, as his custom was, and his consort Akhsenaton played with him.

Horemheb said, “Come, Tut, it is time you rose from that dirty floor, for you are now Pharaoh.”

Tut rose obediently and seating himself on the golden throne he said, “Am I Pharaoh? That does not surprise me, for I have ever felt superior to other people, and it is only right that I should be Pharaoh. With my whip I will punish all evildoers, and with my crook I will watch like a shepherd over all those who are pious and good.”

Eie said, “Let us have no nonsense, Tut! You will do all I tell you without argument. First we will arrange a joyful procession into Thebes, and in Thebes you will bow down before Ammon in his great temple and make sacrifice to him. Then the priests will anoint you and set the red and white crown on your head. Do you understand?”

Tut reflected for a while, then said, “If I go to Thebes, will they build me a big tomb like the tombs of all the other Pharaohs? Will the priests fill it with playthings and golden chairs and fine beds? For the tombs of Akhetaton are narrow and dark, and I do not wish to have only paintings on the walls, but real toys, and my fine blue knife also, which the Hittites gave me.”

“Assuredly the priests shall build you a fine tomb,” said Eie. “You are a wise lad, Tut, to think first of your grave on becoming Pharaoh—wiser than you know. Tutankhaton is not a suitable name to bear before the priests of Ammon; from this day forward, therefore, let your name be Tutankhamon.”

Tut made no objection to this but desired only to learn to write his new name since he did not know the characters by which the name of Ammon is represented. Thus for the first time the name of Ammon was written in Akhetaton. When Nefertiti learned that Tutankhamon was to be Pharaoh and that she herself had been quite overlooked, she arrayed herself in her loveliest dress, having anointed body and hair with rare ointments despite her widowhood, and went to Horemheb aboard his ship.

She said to him, “It is a preposterous thing for a boy yet in his nonage to become Pharaoh! Eie, my miscreant father, has taken him from my hands and rules Egypt in his name, although I am the queen consort and mother. Moreover men have looked on me with desire and called me a fair woman; I have even been called the fairest in all Egypt though that is exaggeration. Look on me, Horemheb, despite the sorrow that has dimmed my eyes and bowed my head. Yours is the spear, and together you and I might plan many things to the advantage of Egypt. I talk thus frankly to you because I think only of Egypt’s good, and I know that my father, that accursed Eie, is a greedy and a stupid man who will do the land much harm.”

Horemheb surveyed her, and Nefertiti let her robe fall open before him, saying that the cabin was very warm, and practiced every seduction. She knew nothing of Horemheb’s secret pact with Eie, and even if—being a woman—she had guessed something of his desire for Baketamon, she fancied that she could easily supplant that inexperienced and haughty princess in his mind. But her beauty failed altogether to impress him.

Regarding her coldly he said, “I have been sufficiently dragged through the mire in this accursed city and am unwilling to defile myself still further with you, fair Nefertiti. I have letters to dictate concerning the war and lack the time to disport myself with you.”

All this Horemheb related to me afterward, and although he must certainly have embroidered the facts, yet in the main the story was true. From that day forward Nefertiti hated Horemheb with a bitter hatred and did all she could to injure him and blacken his reputation. In Thebes she became the friend of Baketamon, whereby Horemheb suffered great injury as I shall later show. It would have been more prudent not to insult her but rather to keep her friendship and show kindness to her in her sorrow. But Horemheb was unwilling to spit on the couch of the dead Pharaoh. Strange though it may seem, Horemheb still loved Akhnaton, although he caused his name and image to be removed from all inscriptions and pulled down the temple of Aton in Thebes. As a proof of this I may tell how Horemheb ordered his followers to remove Akhnaton’s body secretly from the tomb in Akhetaton to that of his mother in Thebes, that it might not fall into the hands of the priests. For the priests had desired to burn the body of Akhnaton and strew the ashes in the river. But these events took place much later.