Three Novels of Ancient Egypt

The weather was moderate and gentle and the sky a clear blue, the rising sun bathing in its rays the Nile, the banks, the fields, and the towns. They went on shore wrapped in their cloaks and placing Egyptian caps, like those of the great merchants, on their heads. They took a few steps in the direction of the quarter of the fishermen, groups of whom were standing on the shore, their hands holding the ropes of the nets that the boats cast into the depths of the Nile, singing songs and hymns. Others were filling the carts with fish and thrashing the backs of the oxen harnessed to them toward the marketplaces. A few minutes’ walk from the shore, small or middling mud-brick huts roofed with palm trunks had been set up, giving an appearance of homeliness and indigence.

Isfinis moved from place to place, senses alert, eyes open, watching the fishermen closely, following their movements, and listening to their hymns. He felt toward them an affection and a sorrow that were accompanied by admiration and respect. As he moved among them, familiarity, confidence, and love blended in his heart and he wished that he could stop them and hug them to his breast and kiss their dark faces marked by hardship and poverty. He remembered what Tetisheri had told him about them when she said, “What strong, long-suffering men they are!”

Latu, sharing the youth's emotions, said, “Don't forget that these fishermen are better off than the peasants. The Herdsmen consider themselves too good to go down to their quarter, so they spare them, without meaning to, their arrogant manners and evil acts.”

The youth frowned in anger and pain and said nothing. They strode on, attracting looks with the dignity of their bearing and the magnificence of their dress. Isfmis noticed close by them a youth in his teens coming toward them carrying a basket. Around his waist he — wore a short kilt, but the rest of his body was bare. He was tall and slender and his face was handsome. Isfmis said, “Look at that boy, Latu. Wouldn't he make a good warrior in the chariot division if he — weren't so young?”

The youth was passing close by them, and, wanting to speak with him, Isfmis greeted him — with a wave and said, “Lord grant you life, young man! Could you kindly direct us to a place where we can rest?”

The youth stopped and was about to reply but, when his eyes took them in, he closed his mouth and cast at them a strange look, expressive of anger and contempt, and he turned his back on them and went on. The two men exchanged a look of astonishment and distaste and Isfmis followed the youth and said, barring his path, “Brother, what makes you deny us an answer and turn your back on us in anger?”

The youth yelled, “Get away from me, Herdsmen's slave!” and walked angrily on, lengthening his steps and leaving Isfmis astonished and perplexed. Latu caught up with him, saying, “He's mad, for sure.”

“He's not mad, Latu. But why would he call me a slave of the Herdsmen?”

“A laughable accusation, indeed!”

“Indeed! But given the behavior of the Herdsmen, from where does he get the courage to challenge us? He's a truly daring young man, Latu. His behavior with us proves that ten years of the Herdsmen's stifling rule has not been enough to root out the anger from those of noble spirit.”

They resumed their course until a loud clamor attracted their attention. Looking to the right, they saw a large building with a small entranceway and narrow openings in its upper wall, and groups of people entering and leaving. The youth asked his companion, “What is this building?”

Latu replied, “An inn.”

“Let's take a look.”

Latu smiled and said, “Let us do so.”

5

They entered the inn together and found themselves in a large space — with high — walls from — whose ceiling hung a dust-covered lamp, and in the middle of which jars had been placed surrounded by a wall two cubits tall and one thick, on which earthenware cups were arranged in rows and around which sat the drinkers. Inside the enclosure stood the innkeeper, filling cups for those around him, or sending them with a young serving boy to those sitting on the floor in the corners. Every time he raised his head from his jars, one of the drinkers would assail him with some joke or pleasantry, only to be rebuffed with coarse language, insults, and abuse. The two men looked around the place and Isfmis decided to shove his way into the crowd near the server, so he took his companion by the hand and shouldered his way toward the wall until he reached it, amidst stares of astonishment and annoyance. Feeling a little tired, he said to the tavern-keeper affably, “My good man, would you be able to provide us with a couple of chairs?”

The annoyance of those around increased at his tone and the strangeness of his request, while the tavern-keeper replied without bothering to look at them, “Sorry, prince. The patrons of my establishment are drawn exclusively from those who favor Mother Earth as a seat!”