must be overthrown before the evil he has engendered becomes so great as to be irredeemable even by bloodshed.”
I drank his wine and said, “I have had enough of gods; I care not for them. But Pharaoh Akhnaton’s god is different from any that have ever been. He has no image, and all men are equal before him; all, whether poor men, slaves, or even foreigners, have value in his sight. I believe that one cycle is at an end and a new one beginning; at such times even the incredible can happen-things against ail reason. Never in any age has such an opportunity occurred for renewing the world and making all men brothers.”
Hrihor raised his hand in protest, smiling, and said, “I see that you dream daydreams, Sinuhe, although I believed you to be a man of sense. My aims are less ambitious. I desire only that all shall be as it was, that the poor may receive full measure and the laws be enforced. I desire only that every man be left to follow his trade in peace and in what faith he chooses. I desire distinction between slave and lord, servant and master; the continued supremacy and honor of Egypt, as a land where children may be born each into his own station and continue in it to his life’s end and where no vain restlessness eats at men’s hearts. All these things do I desire, and therefore Akhnaton must fall.”
He touched my arm appealingly and leaning forward went on, “You, Sinuhe, are a man of moderation and peace, and wish ill to none. We live in a time when each of us must make his choice. He who is not with us is against us and must one day suffer for it. You are not so foolish as to believe that Pharaoh’s rule can long endure? It is a matter of indifference to me which gods you serve; Ammon can survive without your faith. But it is in your power, Sinuhe, to remove the curse from Egypt. It is in your power to restore to Egypt its former majesty.”
His words disturbed me. I drank more of the wine, and my mouth and nostrils were filled with the rich fragrance of myrrh. With a forced laugh I said, “You must have been bitten by a rabid dog or stung by a scorpion, for indeed I have little power of any kind-I cannot even heal the sick as well as you.”
He rose.
“I will show you something.”
Taking up a lamp, he led me out into the passage, where he opened a door that was secured with many locks. He held the lamp to illuminate a cell blazing with gold and silver and precious stones, and he said, “Have no fear: I shall not tempt you with gold. I am not so foolish. But it will do you no harm to see that Ammon is still richer than Pharaoh. I will now show you something else.”
Opening another massive copper door, he threw light into a little cell where, on a stone shelf, lay a waxen image crowned with the double crown, its breast and temples transfixed with sharp bone pins. Involuntarily I raised my hands and recited the prayers that give protection from sorcery, such as I had learned before my initiation as priest of the first grade. Hrihor regarded me with a smile, and the lamp in his hand was steady.
“Do you believe now that Pharaoh’s days are nearly numbered? We have bewitched this image in the name of Ammon and pierced its head and its heart with the sacred pins. Yet the workings of sorcery are slow, and much evil may yet come to pass. Moreover, his god is able to protect him somewhat from our magic. Now that you have seen this, I would speak with you further.”
He secured the doors again with care and led me back to his room, where he refilled my cup with wine. The wine slopped over my chin, and the rim of the cup clattered against my teeth, for I knew that with my own eyes I had seen a sorcery more potent than all others and one that no one hitherto had been able to withstand.
Hrihor said, “From this you may see that Ammon’s power extends even to Akhetaton. Do not ask me how we acquired hairs from his head and clippings from his nails to mix with the wax. I tell you only that we did not buy them for gold but were given them in the name of Ammon.”
Regarding me narrowly and weighing his words with care, he went on, “Ammon’s power increases daily as you saw when I healed the sick in his name. His curse on Egypt daily becomes more terrible; the longer Pharaoh lives, so much more must the people suffer for his sake-and sorcery is slow. What would you say, Sinuhe, if I gave you a medicine to cure Pharaoh’s headaches so that he need never again suffer pain?”
“Men are always subject to pain,” I said. “Only the dead never feel it.
His burning eyes were on me, and his will chained me to my seat. I could not even raise my hand as he said, “That may be true, but this medicine leaves no trace. No one will blame you, and not even the embalmers will notice anything unusual in his entrails. You need know nothing of it at all; merely give Pharaoh a potion to relieve his headaches. When he has taken it, he will fall asleep, never again to suffer pain or sorrow.”
He raised his hand to prevent my speaking and went on, “I do not bribe you with gold, but if you will do this thing, your name shall be blessed for all eternity and your body shall never be destroyed but shall endure forever. Invisible hands will protect you all the days of your life, and there is no human desire of yours that shall not be fulfilled. This I promise you, having authority so to do.”
He raised his hands. His burning eyes held me, and I could not avoid his gaze! I could not move or rise or even raise my hands. He said, “If I say to you ‘Arise,’ you will do so. If I say ‘Raise your hands,’ you will raise them. But I cannot compel you to bow before Ammon against your will nor induce you to perform deeds to which your heart is opposed. This limits my power over you. I conjure you, Sinuhe, for the sake of Egypt give him this medicine, and cure his headaches forever.”
His hands fell. I could move once more and raise the wine cup to my lips, and I trembled no longer. I breathed in the fragrance of myrrh and said to him, “Hrihor, I promise nothing, but give me the drug. Give me this merciful medicine, for perhaps it is better than poppy juice, and the time may come when Pharaoh himself desires to sleep without waking.”
He gave me the potion in a vessel of colored glass and said, “The future of Egypt lies in your hands, Sinuhe. It is not fitting that any man’s hand be raised against Pharaoh, but so bitter is the misery among the people that the day may come when they remember that even Pharaoh is mortal-that a knife will draw his blood. This must not be, for it would undermine the authority of the Pharaohs. The fate of Egypt lies in your hands, Sinuhe.”
I secured the medicine within my girdle and said mockingly, “Upon the day of my birth the fate of Egypt lay in certain swarthy fingers that knotted reeds together. There are things you do not know, Hrihor, though you fancy yourself omniscient. I have the drug, but remember I promise nothing.”
He smiled, raised his hands in farewell, and said, according to custom, “Great shall be your reward.”
He then accompanied me through the passages, concealing nothing. His eyes could penetrate men’s hearts, and he knew that I should not betray him. I can affirm that the vaults of Ammon lie beneath the great temple, but I will not divulge in what manner they are entered since the secret is not mine.
6
A few days later the death of Taia, the Queen Mother, occurred. She died of the bite of an asp while overhauling fowling nets in the palace gardens. Her own physician was not at hand as is often the case with physicians when they are most needed, and I was summoned from Thebes. But when I arrived at the golden house, I could do no more than certify her death, for which I could not be blamed, for the bite of an asp is always fatal unless the wound can be incised before the pulse has beaten a hundred times, and the veins above it closed.
Custom required that I should remain in the golden house until the porters from the House of Death arrived to bear away the body. Thus it was I encountered the somber priest, Eie, beside the bier.
He touched the swollen cheeks of the Queen Mother and said, “It was time she died, for she was a repulsive old woman who intrigued against me. Her own acts condemned her, and I hope that now she is dead the unrest among the people will subside.”
I do not think that Eie had murdered her, for he would scarcely have dared to do that: joint crimes and shared secrets form bonds more powerful than those of love.
News of the death spread through Thebes. The citizens arrayed themselves in their best clothes and gathered joyfully in the streets and squares. To gain their favor, Eie caused Queen Taia’s Negro sorcerers to be driven with whips from the cellars of the golden house. There were four of them, also a witch woman as fat and ugly as a hippopotamus. The guards drove them out through the Papyrus Gate, where the mob fell on them and tore them to pieces. Not all their witchcraft availed to save them then. Eie had all the materials of their craft burned where they lay, their drugs and sacred tree stumps also, which I regretted, for I should have been glad to examine these things.
