The Egyptian

BOOK 13
Aton’s Kingdom on Earth
1

Upon my return to Akhetaton I found Pharaoh exceedingly ill and in need of my help. His face was narrower, his cheekbones protruded, and his neck seemed even longer than before. It was incapable now of supporting the weight of the double crown, which pulled his head backward when he wore it on state occasions. His thighs had swollen, although his legs below the knees were mere sticks; his eyes also were puffy from constant headaches and were ringed with purple shadows. They did not look directly at anyone; his gaze wandered into other realms, and he often forgot the people with whom he spoke. The headaches were made worse by his custom of walking uncovered in the midday sun, to receive its rays of benediction upon his head. But the rays of Aton shed no blessing; they poisoned him so that he raved and saw evil visions. Perhaps his god was like himself, too liberal with his loving kindness, too overwhelming and profuse for his blessing to be other than a blight to all it touched.

In Pharaoh’s lucid moments, when I applied wet cloths to his head and administered mild sedatives to soothe the pain, his dark, afflicted gaze would rest upon me in such unspeakable disillusion that my heart was moved for him in his weakness and I loved him; I would have sacrificed much to spare him this anguish.

He said to me, “Sinuhe, can it be that my visions are lies-the fruit of a sick brain? If so, then life is inconceivably hideous, and the world is ruled not by goodness but by a boundless evil. But this cannot be so, and my visions must be true. Do you hear, Sinuhe, the stiff-necked? My visions must be true although his sun no longer illuminates my heart, and my friends spit on my couch. I am not blind. I see into the hearts of men. I see into your heart also, Sinuhe-your weak and vacillating heart-and I know that you believe me mad. Yet I forgive you because of the light that once shone into that heart.”

When pain assailed him he moaned and cried, “Men take pity on a sick animal, Sinuhe, and dispatch it with a club, and a spear brings release to the wounded lion-but to a man no one will show mercy!

My disillusion is more bitter to me than death because his light streams into my heart. Though my body die, yet shall my spirit live eternally. Of the sun am I born, Sinuhe; to the sun shall I return-and I long for that return because of the bitterness of my desolation.”

With the coming of autumn he began to recover although it might have been better if I had let him go. But a physician may not allow his patient to die if his arts can avail to cure him-and this proves often the doctor’s curse. Pharaoh’s health improved and with this improvement came reserve; he would converse no further with me or with others. His eyes were hard now, and his solitude profound.

He had spoken no more than the truth when he said that his friends spat on his couch, for having borne him five daughters Queen Nefertiti wearied of him and came to loathe him and sought by every means to cause him pain. When for the sixth time the seed quickened within her, the child in her womb was Pharaoh’s in name only. She lost all restraint and took pleasure with anyone, even with my friend Thothmes. Her beauty was regal still although her spring had flowered and passed, and in her eyes and her mocking smile lay something that men found irresistible. She conducted her intrigues among Pharaoh’s adherents, to alienate them from him. So the circle of protecting love about him thinned and melted away.

Her will was strong, her understanding disturbingly acute. A woman who combines malice with intelligence and beauty is dangerous indeed-more dangerous still when she can add to this the power of a royal consort. For too many years Nefertiti had been content to smile and to rule by her beauty, to find delight in jewels, wine, verses, and adulation. Now, after the birth of the fifth daughter, something seemed to snap; she believed then that she would never bear a son and laid the blame for this upon Akhnaton. It must be remembered that in her veins ran the black blood of Eie the priest, the blood of injustice, treachery, and ambition.

Let it be said in her defense that never until now could an ill word have been spoken of her; no scandal about her was uttered abroad. She had been faithful; she had surrounded Pharaoh Akhnaton with the tenderness of a loving woman, defending his madness and believing in his visions. Many were amazed at her sudden transformation and saw in it a token of the curse that brooded like a stifling cloud over Akhetaton. So great was her fall that she was reputed to take pleasure with servants and Shardanas and hewers of tombs, though I will not believe this. When once people find something to talk of, they love to exaggerate and make more of it than the facts will warrant.

However this may be, Pharaoh shut himself away in his solitude. His food was the bread and gruel of the poor, and his drink was Nile water, for he desired to regain clarity by the purification of his body, in the belief that meat and wine had darkened his sight.

From the outside world no more joyful tidings came to Akhetaton. Aziru sent many tablets from Syria full of remonstrance and complaint. His men desired to return to their homes, he said, to tend their flocks and herds, to till their fields and enjoy their wives, for they were lovers of peace. But robber bands, armed with Egyptian weapons and led by Egyptian officers, made continual raids into Syria from the Sinai desert and were a permanent danger to the country, so that Aziru could not allow his men to return home. The commandant in Gaza was also behaving in an unbecoming manner and in contravention of the peace treaty, both in the spirit and the letter. He closed the gates of the city to peaceful traders and admitted only those whom he thought fit. Aziru made many other complaints and said that anyone save himself would long ago have lost all patience, but that he was long suffering because of his love of peace. Yet unless an end were put to these incidents, he would not answer for the outcome.

Babylon likewise was incensed at Egypt’s competition for the Syrian grain markets; King Burnaburiash was far from content with the presents he had received from Pharaoh and put forward many demands.

The Babylonian ambassador in Akhetaton pulled his beard, shrugged his shoulders, and threw out his hands, saying, “My master is like a lion that rises uneasily in its lair and sniffs the wind, to learn what the wind will bring. He set his hopes on Egypt, but if Egypt is too poor to send him gold enough to hire strong men and build chariots, I do not know what will come of it. Though my master will ever prove a good friend to a powerful and wealthy Egypt, the friendship of a poor and impotent country is of no value to him, but rather a burden. I may say that my master was severely shocked and surprised when Egypt in its weakness yielded Syria. Everyone is his own nearest neighbor, and Babylon must consider Babylon.”

A Hittite deputation, among which were many distinguished chiefs, now arrived at Akhetaton. These men declared that they had come to confirm the hereditary friendship between Egypt and the land of Hatti and at the same time to acquaint themselves both with the customs of Egypt, of which they had heard much that was good, and with the Egyptian army, from whose arms and discipline they believed they might learn a great deal. Their behavior was cordial and correct, and they brought munificent presents to the officers of the household. Among the gifts they offered to young Tut, Pharaoh’s son-in-law, was a knife of blue metal, keener and stronger than all other knives. I was the only other in Akhetaton in possession of such a blade-one that had been given me by a Hittite harbor master, as I have related-and I counseled Tut to have his also set in gold and silver in the Syrian manner. Tut was so greatly delighted with this weapon that he said he would have it with him in his tomb. He was a delicate, sickly boy who thought of death more often than do most children of his age.

These Hittite chiefs were indeed agreeable and cultured men. Their large noses, resolute chins, and their eyes that were like those of wild creatures entranced the women of the court. From morning till night and from night till morning they were brilliantly entertained in the palaces of the great.

They said smiling, “We know that many dreadful things are told of our land by the invention of envious neighbors. We are therefore delighted to be able to appear before you in person so that you may see for yourselves that we are a cultured nation and that many of us can read and write. We are also peaceful and do not seek war; we seek only such knowledge as may be useful to us in our endeavors to educate and instruct our people. Do not believe the nonsense that is talked about us by the fugitives from Mitanni. They are bitter because in their fear they abandoned their country and all that was theirs. We can assure you that no evil would have befallen them if they had remained. But you must understand that the land of Hatti is cramped and we have many children, for the great Shubbiluliuma takes great delight in children. Therefore we need space for our offspring and new grazing grounds for our cattle. And further, we could not endure to see the oppressions and wrongs that prevailed in the Land of Mitanni-indeed, the natives themselves appealed to us for help, and we marched into their country as liberators not conquerors. In Mitanni there is room enough for ourselves and our children and our cattle and we do not meditate further annexations, for we are a peace-loving people.”

They raised their goblets with arms held straight and spoke in praise of Egypt, while the women gazed with desire at their sinewy necks and wild eyes.

And they said, “Egypt is a glorious land, and we love it. In our country also there may be something for Egyptians to learn-such Egyptians as are friendly toward us and desire to acquaint themselves with our customs.”

They spoke many fair words to the eminent of Akhetaton, who dealt with them frankly, concealing nothing. But to my mind these strangers brought with them the smell of corpses. I remembered their bleak land and the sorcerers spitted on stakes by the roadside, and I did not mourn when they left Akhetaton.

The city had changed. Its inhabitants had been infected by some frenzy, and never before had people eaten and drunk and played so feverishly as at this time. But the gaiety was unwholesome, for they reveled only to forget the future. Often a deadly stillness would fall over Akhetaton so that laughter froze in men’s throats and they looked at one another in fear, forgetting what they had been about to say. Artists also were gripped by this singular fever. They drew and painted and carved more diligently than ever as if they felt that time was slipping through their hands. They exaggerated truth to a fantastic degree; distortion grew beneath their chisels and pencils; they vied with one another to produce ever more strange and extravagant forms until they vowed they could represent a feature or a movement by a few lines and patches.

I said to my friend Thothmes, “Pharaoh Akhnaton raised you from the dust and made you his friend. Why do you carve his likeness as if you bitterly hated him? Why have you spat on his couch and outraged his friendship?”

Thothmes said, “Do not meddle with things you fail to understand, Sinuhe. Perhaps I hate him, but I hate myself more. The fire of creation burns within me, and my hands have never been so skillful as now. Perhaps it is when the artist is unsatisfied and hates himself that he best creates-better than when he is content and full of love. I create all from within myself, and in every piece of sculpture I hew myself in stone, to survive eternally. There is no one like me: I surpass all others and for me there are no rules to break. In my art I stand above rules and am more god than man. When I create form and color, I vie with Aton and outdo him, for all that Aton creates is perishable but what I create is eternal.”

When he spoke thus, he had been drinking, and I forgave him his words, for torment burned in his face and from his eyes I saw that he was profoundly unhappy.

During this time the harvest was gathered in from the fields, the river rose and fell, and it was winter. With winter famine came to the land of Egypt, and no one could tell what new disaster the morrow might bring. News came that Aziru had opened the greater number of the Syrian cities to the Hittites and that the light chariots of these had driven across the Sinai desert, attacking Tanis and laying waste the surrounding country.