I did not desire to bandy words with them, but I said this, “Against whom would you build your walls and towers if not Egypt? It is doubtless true that your city was free within its own walls in the days of your great-grandfathers, but you shed blood and impoverished yourselves in countless wars with neighbors whom you still hate, while your princes were licensed despots under whom neither rich nor poor knew security. Now you are protected from your enemies by the shields and spears of Egypt, and Egypt’s laws secure the rights of rich and poor alike.”
But this incensed them; their eyes reddened and their nostrils quivered as they retorted, “Egypt’s laws are filth to us and its gods an abomination. What if our princes were despots, and unjust-which we do not believe! They were our own princes, and our hearts tell us that injustice in a free land is better than justice in a land enslaved.”
I said, “I see among you no signs of slavery; rather you grow fat and boast of wealth gained at the expense of Egyptian stupidity. If you were free, you would plunder one another’s ships and cut down one another’s fruit trees. On your journeys inland your lives would no longer be secure.”
But they would not listen. They flung down their gifts and left, saying, “You are an Egyptian in your heart though you wear Syrian clothes. Every Egyptian is an oppressor and an evildoer, and the only good Egyptian is a dead one.”
In consequence of these things I was now ill at ease in Smyrna. I began to gather in all that was mine in preparation for departure. I must go to Egypt, according to my promise, to meet Horemheb and tell him of all I had seen. But I made no great haste, for my spirit quailed at the thought of drinking Nile water once again, and so the time slipped by.
One evening I was returning in the dark from Ishtar’s temple, which I visited upon occasion-as a thirsty man will drink without regard to the source of his refreshment. Some men came along the wall toward me, saying to one another, “Is not this man an Egyptian? Shall we suffer a circumcised man to lie with our virgins and defile our temple?”
I said, “Your virgins, for whom I could suggest a more fitting term, care neither for race nor person. They weigh their pleasure by the gold the man has in his purse. I do not quarrel with them for this since it is my custom to take pleasure with them, and I intend to continue when it so pleases me.”
At this they drew their cloaks before their faces, threw themselves on me, and bore me to the ground, then beat my head against the wall until I thought I was about to die. But as they set about robbing me and were dragging the clothes off me before throwing me into the harbor, one of them saw my face and said, “Is it not Sinuhe, the Egyptian doctor and King Aziru’s friend?”
I acknowledged this and swore that I would slay them and throw their carcasses to the dogs. My head ached exceedingly, and I was much too angry to be frightened. They released me, restored my clothes, and fled, holding their cloaks before their faces. I could not think why they did so, for with me in their power they had no reason to heed my threat.
2
A few days later a messenger rode up to my door on a horse, which was a rare sight, for an Egyptian never travels on horseback and a Syrian very seldom. It is chiefly the desert raiders who journey in this fashion, the horse being a tall, unruly creature that kicks and bites when a man tries to mount it, and throws him off, and behaves quite differently from the donkey, which is amenable to all uses. This man rode up to my door on a lathery, gasping beast, from whose mouth blood was trickling. The man’s garments told me that he came from the hills of the sheep country, and in his face I read intense agitation.
He rushed up to me and barely gave himself time to utter a greeting before crying out to me in his excitement, “Order out your carry chair, Sinuhe, and follow me speedily. I come from the land of Amurru, whose king, Aziru, has sent me to fetch you. His son is sick, and no one knows what ails the boy. The King rages like a lion in the wilderness and breaks the bones of everyone who comes near. Therefore take your medicine chest and follow me in haste, or I will cut your head from your shoulders and kick it along the street.”
“My head alone would be of little use to the King. Yet I pardon you your impetuousness and will follow you-not on account of your threats but because King Aziru is my friend and I would help him.”
I ordered Kaptah to fetch a chair, and I followed the messenger, rejoicing in my heart. I was so lonely that I looked forward to meeting even Aziru, whose teeth I had once coated with gold. But I was no longer so happy when we came to the mouth of a pass, for then I and my medicine chest were hoisted into a chariot and drawn by wild horses. We careered over stones and rocks until I feared that every one of my limbs would be broken, and I cried out shrilly in my terror. My companion on his weary horse was left far in the rear, and I hoped that he might break his neck.
On the other side of the range I was hauled from the chariot into another drawn by fresh horses. I hardly knew whether I was on my head or my heels, and I could only scream at the drivers, “You filth! You carrion! You dung beetles!” and thump them on the back with my fists when we came to the smoother stretches, and I dared loosen my hold upon the edge of the cart. They did not heed me but shook the reins and cracked the whip so that we leaped over the stones and I thought the wheels would fly off.
Our journey to Amurru was thus not a lengthy one, and before sunset we came to a city that was encircled by newly built, lofty walls. These were patrolled by soldiers bearing shields, but the gates stood open to us. We drove through the city amid the braying of donkeys and the yelling of women and children, while baskets of fruit flew through the air and countless pitchers were crushed beneath the wheels, for the drivers paid no heed to any in their path.
When I was lifted from the vehicle, I could no longer walk but reeled like a drunken man. The drivers rushed me by the arms into the house, followed by slaves with my medicine chest. We had come no farther than the outer wall, which was hung with shields and breastplates and tasseled spears, when Aziru collided with us, trumpeting like a wounded elephant. He had rent his clothes and cast ashes on his hair, and he had scratched his face with his nails until it bled.
Aziru then embraced me warmly and wept and said, “Heal my son, Sinuhe-heal him, and all that is mine shall be yours.”
I said to him, “Let me first see your son that I may find out if I can heal him.”
He led me quickly to a large room heated by a brazier although it was summer. The air within was stifling. In the middle of the floor stood a cradle in which lay a baby less than a year old, swathed in woolen garments. He was screaming so hard that he was blue black in the face and sweat stood in beads upon his forehead. Although he was still so small, he had thick black hair like his father. I could not see that much ailed him. If he had been dying, he could not have roared so lustily. Lying on the floor beside the cradle was Keftiu, the woman I had once given to Aziru. She was fatter and whiter than ever, and her mountainous flesh shook as she struck her forehead on the floor in her grief and mourned and shrieked. From the corners of the room came the outcry of slaves and nurses whose faces were swollen and bruised from the blows that Aziru had dealt them because they could pot heal his son.
“Be of good courage, Aziru,” I said. “Your son is not dying, but I must cleanse myself before I examine him. And take away the accursed brazier before we all choke!”