5.3 A Seed Planted and a Weed Pulled

5.3 A Seed Planted and a Weed Pulled
The Season of Planting - A Protégé
Arriving at The Residence, Joseph informed the king of his negotiation with Merkha. The king agreed that the trade of an unexpected estate, one isolated from the king’s other lands and thus more difficult to manage, was a small price for not only peace, but possibly the first improvement in relations between the governor and king in any time since reunification.
The king brought Joseph up to date on his interaction with the other landowners who had participated in Irsu’s tax fraud, but few of these negotiations had been completed and their conclusion returned to the king.
Senusret had one additional topic for Joseph.
“You know that Captain Potiphar had selected you for his successor. Every man in a position of power is required to have at least one man in training for his position. It is time for you to select a protégé.”
“Of course. That is wise. I will search for such a man if you do not have someone in mind.”
“No, I prefer you make the choice since he will be under your supervision. But do not wait too long, or else I will make the selection.”
“Understood.” Joseph bowed and took his leave of the king in a relatively short time.

Asenath was waiting his return, news of his arrival having reached her quickly. Indeed, the confines of The Residence, even when the outlying settlements were included, were small enough that news spread like locusts on a wheat field, covering the entire domain swiftly and efficiently.
After news of his trips and her adventures with their sons, Joseph asked about Imi and her boys.
“Not well. The loss was so sudden, so there was no preparation, and the fact that he killed himself leaves her feeling that there is something she should have done. She feels that she should have known and helped him. Suicide is so rare, and it has such a stigma.”
Joseph nodded. “I understand her reaction, but I cannot imagine what she might have done differently.”
“Yes, that is the logical response. But in the emotional world, there is no calm reassurance, nothing to free one from a sense of responsibility.”
“And what of her children?”
“Kheti is almost a man, but he suddenly is thrust into the role of the head of the house. He will not admit it, but he is overwhelmed. He has spoken of wanting to move to the land, to get away from all that reminds him of the job that killed his father.”
“He wants to run away, as if he can escape. That land to which he will run is not a real place. That place, or any place, just isn’t this place where his father always was a part of his life.”
“Yes,” agreed Asenath solemnly.
“He says he wants to go back to the land, but do you think he is even aware of what it takes to grow crops? He cannot ‘go back’ to a place he has never been.”
“I don’t know,” replied Asenath, searching her memory for clues. “He has led a sheltered life within The Residence under Imi’s watchful eye, as far as I know. “
She paused. “He has the education most boys get here. I know he has some knowledge of the craft of the scribes, but he is not interested in that now. And he has spent time with the gardeners, but that is a totally different experience from growing the crops that are your source of life.”
Joseph nodded. “Perhaps he needs a view of what farming is like before he steps into it. This is the season of planting in The Fayum. What would you think if the overseer agreed to put him on a crew and work him for the season?”
“I don’t know if he is ready for that. The way you spoke of your experience, that was very hard work.”
“Yes, it was. And there may be nothing that he needs more than that right now – tough, hard, mindless work to build his strength and stamina.
“This also will give him a very blunt, realistic look at what happens on a farm. Even if he is the owner and has people doing the work, he needs to understand the process. What do you think?”
Asenath smiled. “My first thought was that Imi would hate to be separated from him, sort of like another loss, but preparing her child to go out into the world is what a mother does. I will talk with her.”
They discussed the possibility more, and Asenath resolved to broach the subject with Imi while Joseph went through proper channels and contacted the king’s overseer for the crops there. He had learned through error that the success with the bureaucracy comes only by working within the bureaucracy.

When they had finished talking about Kheti, Joseph asked how Zelicha was doing.
Asenath shook her head. “She is having as much trouble as Imi, maybe more. Her identity has been tied to Potiphar and his position with the king, and that is gone. Now she must ask herself who she is, and she does not have an answer.
“I have brought Zelicha and Imi together more than once in an attempt to see if they might bond in their shared period of grief. Zelicha has been good with the children, and perhaps they will help to give her a sense of purpose.
“She asked me if we were being given Potiphar’s residence.”
Both Irsu and Potiphar had lived beyond the life expectancy of an Egyptian man, even a wealthy Egyptian man. For all of the advances of the Egyptian civilization, extended life span was not one of its benefits. But loss of a close family member was devastating regardless of age.
Now Zelicha lived alone in the primary suite within the attached building that in name belonged to the captain, but essentially was an extension of the royal palace. Others lived in suites there, but her rooms overlooked the gardens and her line of sight was directly into the gardens within The Residence. This was a location of power for people with power.
Joseph had thought that the king would give that order, but he was in no rush for that to occur.
“It is her residence as far as I am concerned, but this is the king’s property, and he will decide. There is always a waiting list of people he would move within The Residence to have them closer. I am sure that he will make changes at some point.”
On a lighter note, Joseph spoke to Asenath of the young officer, Setka, and how much he was reminded of himself at that time of transition from a boy to a man.
And then it occurred to him. “You know, the king has insisted that I be accompanied by soldiers on my travels. Perhaps that would be a good opportunity for Setka to see the larger picture.”
“And you would have a regular companion instead of the randomly assigned officer,” agreed Asenath.
“Yes. I will speak to General Djar about a transfer for the young man.”

A Seed Planted
Within days, Joseph had permission to send Kheti to The Fayum to participate in the end of the season of planting. There would be plenty of work beyond that with maintaining the last of the flood water and then weeding and hoeing.
Kheti was a bit apprehensive at being away from family in a new environment with new people. The shelter of home had been shaken by his father’s death, and he clung more tightly to it for this reason.
Imi initially had been reluctant to let him go, seeing his departure as another loss so soon after her husband’s death. Asenath and Zelicha worked together to convince her of the benefit to her son of learning independence. After all, that is what a mother does, teach her children to become independent. Seeing that this was necessary for her son, she eventually gave her blessing and encouragement.

In spite of the press of his position as vizier, Joseph insisted on accompanying Kheti to his new boss. And Joseph would have admitted that this was for both good and selfish reasons had he been pressed.
The Fayum and the workers that he had met there had been important factors in his growth and maturity. He felt a connection that might never be lost, somewhat like his feelings toward Canaan, the place of his early growth and relationships.
Certain places, events, and people from the past were more than memories. Indeed, they seemed woven into the physical being of his body as they had been woven into the thought patterns of his mind.
He took only Setka with him and Kheti, and as with his last visit to The Fayum, Joseph left his chariot behind. Although a primary reason was that he did not want his position to be the center of attention when they arrived, the time to get to know both young men and to interact with them was at least equally important.
Their journey was several days, a familiar path to Joseph but brand new to his companions. It was a good time for casual conversation, ranging from the lighter topics that gave a bit of speed to their pace to weightier matters that diverted the energy from their legs as their minds grappled with new ways of thinking.
With young Kheti present, Setka had the opportunity to play a role midway between student and teacher. Joseph could tell that this enhanced the young officer’s learning as he helped to explain what he had just learned to the less experienced Kheti. And this had the benefits of both reinforcing what he had learned and enhancing a more genuine self-confidence.

They pressed forward quickly on their last day of the journey to arrive just at twilight, the last faint traces of light receding into the western expanse. Joseph would have liked to have visited Pawara, but the hour was late. He decided to find the chief overseer, a man named Hannu, whom Joseph had never met.
Kahun was a relatively new city that had been developing over recent years, and there were many new homes. Hannu’s home was one of the better examples. His home had a wooden door and wood beams, and stone formed much of the exterior. The size and materials were signs of the prosperity of The Fayum region under Senusret II, even before the years of good harvests the water coming to the region had yielded good profits.
Hannu welcomed Joseph and his companions. Eying the young Kheti, he judiciously said the young man had the makings of a good worker, adding, “We’ll put some muscle on him.”
Their host offered the meager leftovers of the day, but Joseph declined saying that they had brought sufficient food and would not be a burden to Hannu, particularly at this time of night.
The four men spoke only briefly before retiring, the three visitors to another night under the stars and their host to his family inside.
The following morning, Hannu led them all to the area where men were planting emmer wheat. This was just past dawn, and almost all of the workers had assembled in groups with their foremen. No instruction was needed since the day would start where the previous day had ended and would proceed until the sun neared the horizon.
Hands on his hips, Hannu observed the groups of men segregating into their respective work groups. “We are missing more men today,” he said with a shake of his head.
Joseph caught the implications of the man’s words. “What is happening, Hannu?”
“There were a few sick several days ago. They have not returned, and each day since then we are missing a few others. There must be a dozen missing from the worst hit section alone.” He eyed Setka and with a smile asked Joseph, “Could you spare your guard to do an honest day’s work?”
Joseph smiled back. “I am sure that he would find the work more challenging and rewarding, but I must have him for my own purposes.”
Hannu nodded. He put his arm around the shoulder of Kheti and guided the young man toward one of the groups that had formed. “We are short-handed, so you will do the work of two men, yes?”
A man who appeared to be one of the first-line overseers was approaching
Addressing his boss, he asked, “Is this our new man?”
Hannu answered affirmatively and introduced them.
Eying his new recruit, he asked, “What do you think, Hannu, can we use him?”
Hannu replied, “He has the potential. Let’s see what you can do with him. Remember, today we need each of your men to do more work than that of just one man. Too many are missing. It looks like the fever, doesn’t it?”
“It looks like the lung disease. Let’s hope that it does not spread.”
Everyone knew that the disease tended to spread and was a killer. The first symptom was a cough that got worse, soon leading to pain in the chest. Coughing up blood followed and, if the person had not the strength (or the favor of the gods), death would follow.
Hannu sighed. “Do what you can. The seed must go in the ground for it to grow, and the season will not wait for us. The scribes do not accept excuses, either.”
Kheti’s new boss gave the boy a sound slap on the back. Kheti held his ground against the strong push. “Yes, we can make a farmer out of him.”
He pointed to a group standing nearby. “They will be your team. I will introduce you to the overseer.”
Kheti was appreciative of Joseph’s presence, knowing he would not be so well received on his own. Still, his self-confidence was boosted by the exchange and he took the initiative.”
In the firm voice of a man, Kheti said, “Have a safe trip home, Joseph. Thank you for coming with me.” Only his eyes showed a trace of uncertainty.
Joseph was relieved that Kheti had initiated the farewell. For now, a quick separation from Kheti would be good. This was Kheti’s rite of passage, and it was intended for him alone.
He gave Kheti a one armed hug in farewell and a few words of encouragement, and then he took his leave of Hannu. This would be a difficult day for Kheti, but it was part of the process, like the seed breaking through the soil toward the sun. As with the seed, Kheti’s future was in God’s hands.

With Setka at his side, Joseph went back to the town of Kahun, a much larger place than when he had passed through it that first year as a slave in the fields. The building housing the scribes was larger, a reflection of the growth of importance of the area as a source of staple crops.
The king leaned toward Irsu’s second in command, a man who had been at Itj-tawy for his whole career, to fill the slot of Treasurer of the kingdom. Joseph, however, thought someone from outside the small circle of Itj-tawy might be better for a number of reasons. The man here had risen through the ranks, but Joseph knew him only by reputation.
This district had not had any landowners participating in the fraud committed by Irsu and several landowners. The scribes were well managed and had always contributed thorough records with good summaries. This spoke well of the local chief scribe.
An unofficial interview would be a good use of his time.

A Strong Manager
The building that housed the offices of the scribes was the nicest Joseph had seen. It had been built just after the time he had begun serving Potiphar and still looked new.
An impressive entryway invited them toward the large wooden doors. A guard posted squarely in front challenged them. When Joseph showed the king’s ring on his hand, the guard stepped aside as if such visitors arrived regularly. He promptly resumed his position when they passed by him. The thought passed through Joseph’s mind that this was a man thoroughly trained and committed to his task.
Greeted by an apprentice scribe, Joseph identified himself and asked for the scribe in charge, Intef. The young man went deeper into the building and another man soon emerged.
“Zaphnath-Paaneah, welcome!” Intef’s voice boomed and echoed off the walls of the short corridor leading into the offices of the scribes. He stopped a couple of feet away and gave a slight bow. He eyed Joseph’s accompanying guard and continued, “I was not made aware that you would visit our office.”
Joseph was unsure what had given away his identity since he did not have his chariot or any other trappings of his office.
“My trip was somewhat spur of the moment. Other business brought me to the area and, in view of the changes within the king’s council, a visit with a message from the king is appropriate.”
“By all means, yes! Shall we visit in the privacy of my office?” he asked, extending his arm in the direction of a table and chairs partially visible in one corner of the large open work area of the scribes. The racks of file storage provided an informal wall between the sprawling work space and the corner referred to as his office.
Normally, Joseph would have his military escort wait outside while he conducted business, but he made an exception here. “Yes, lead us there. I will bring Setka to observe. As an officer, he should understand the contribution of the scribal system to Egypt and have a firsthand view of its workings.”
Intef evaluated the young man and then nodded. “Of course. Come this way.” And he led them in the direction he had indicated.

The Fayum’s chief scribe was the opposite of what Joseph had pictured. This was not a man who spent his life indoors with numbers and files. Intef had the bearing of a military man, and the build of one who was used to strenuous work or at least physical training.
Passing through the main office, there was a great deal of activity in the huge work space. It was not filled with people, but those present were busy. Some men worked jointly, standing at tables, while others were alone, guiding silent pens across papyrus. The high ceilings and rows of racks filled with papyri muted voices so that Joseph never heard more than an unintelligible murmur as he passed not too distant from men talking with one another.
As they walked, Intef waved an arm toward the work area and explained, “With the news of the alteration of figures in some scribal offices, I ordered a review of all documents. A scribe not in any way involved with the original recording and calculation reviews each and every transaction. The news that numbers were altered and incorrect was a reminder that if our work is not accurate, then no one needs to be employed here. The fields are calling for workmen, and those who will not perform accurate work in the manner required of their position have a ready alternative.”
The chief scribe spoke in the authoritative tone of a military commander who will not tolerate disobedience, a man of action. The neatness of the work area and the focus of the workers on their task at hand was evidence of the effect of Intef’s intense management style.
Rounding the end of a rack of files, they came to chairs around one of the tables shielded from view by the storage racks. This area, too, was perfectly neat and clean. With his visit unannounced, Joseph was impressed by both the activity and organization of the work center.
Joseph wanted to see more evidence of the man’s management style. Before sitting, he asked, “Who is your second in command here? Is he available to join us?”
“Of course. He is at the first large table we passed, resolving the questions that naturally arise when we do audits. I will ask him to join us.”

Intef rose and walked briskly out onto the main floor, returning moments later with a slightly older man. He introduced the general supervisor as his second in command. Joseph acknowledged and waved his hand toward the empty chairs and both men sat down.
“You appear to have a very clean and efficient operation here, Intef. I can understand why we do not hear negative reports or find problems with the information that your men generate.”
“Thank you,” Intef smiled slightly and nodded as he waited to hear the purpose of the visit.
“As you know, Intef, the deaths of Captain Potiphar and Irsu have been a blow to the king and to the other members of the council. Indeed, all Egypt benefitted from their knowledge and years of experience.” Joseph saw no need to mention the errors and Irsu’s death; no attempt had been made to hide the facts and everyone knew of it by now.
“Having worked in the fields of the Fayum in my youth for a season, and then worked here on the canals and irrigation, I enjoy the opportunity to come back and visit on occasion. That has been much too rare. With Irsu gone, this seemed a good opportunity to visit with you and commend you for your service.”
“Thank you, Zaphnath-Paaneah. Is there anything in particular you desire to see while you are here or any way that I may be of service to you?”
“You have several wealthy landowners who have benefitted greatly in these years of good floods. Have you had any difficulty collecting the tax for famine preparation?”
“I will let my number one answer that.”
The general supervisor smiled. “There was an incident the first year, but we corrected the situation and there has been no further trouble.”
“You have piqued my curiosity. What happened?”
“We had a young man who had done an excellent job for several years. We gave him charge of the crew who would monitor the planting and harvesting of a particularly wealthy landowner.
“As you know, for the larger landowners, a team of scribes is necessary to make all of the preliminary projections based on what is planted, the quality of the flood and land, and such. That same crew later monitored the harvest and compared the estimates with the reality.
“This particular scribe made a deal with the landowner to underestimate both his projection and the actual harvest so that the one-fifth tax would be a noticeably smaller amount.”
He paused and smiled. “But Irsu changed the normal practice. He sent a directive ordering that a separate crew with none from the estimating crew monitor the harvest. Irsu even sent two scribes to act as lead scribes for the two largest estates. The harvest was significantly larger than projected, and when we examined the records and asked questions, we caught the young man in his deception.”
“What became of him? I do not remember anyone being sent to Itj-tawy for such a crime.”
Intef took up the story. “There is a small military contingent nearby, most of whom are intensely bored. I asked that one of their battle hardened veterans perform a service for us.
“The commander himself came with an aide and two soldiers. I asked the former scribe which hand he would prefer to be cut from its arm. After much weeping and pleading, he said his left.
“The commander’s aide took the man’s right arm, put a noose around the wrist, and pulled on the rope, extending the arm as far as he could from the man’s body, which was held by the two soldiers. The arm was held on one of these tables with the hand extending beyond the edge. The commander severed the hand where it joined the wrist.
“This was in front of every scribe employed here at the time.”
“What became of the man?” asked Joseph.
“Herbs and bandages were wrapped on his wound to staunch the bleeding. He was given a day’s rations and led to the edge of town. The missing hand marked him as a thief, so I assume that he had a difficult and short life.”
“That was very dramatic, Intef,” observed Joseph.
Intef’s aide interjected, “Oh, do not think us cruel here. I was not present because I was still in the field at another estate, but I heard that the man was in such a state that Intef took him into his office, had him drink some wine to calm him, and then resumed the questioning. When he brought him back out, the man was more subdued.”
Intef appeared perturbed by this interruption, but Joseph quickly asked, “And what became of the landowner?”
Intef smiled. “He paid a hefty fine. I personally assumed responsibility for this man’s account. And after what they have seen, every scribe who has worked on the audit of the man’s crops has erred on the side of the king. The man has paid heavily every year since, but he dare not protest too strongly.”
“Your justice is sure and swift,” observed Joseph.
“As the king’s representative, I consider this the king’s justice. ‘Sure and swift’ are a part of my understanding of justice.”
“The example has made the job of both Intef and myself much easier,” confirmed the supervisor.”
“Yes, I imagine,” nodded Joseph, picturing the story’s gruesome ending.
There was a moment of silence before Intef asked, “Would you like to see the details of what the scribes here are doing or to talk with any of them, Zaphnath-Paaneah?”
Suddenly, Intef seemed vaguely familiar. “Have we met before?”
“Irsu called the chief scribes from each region to Itj-tawy before the first year of the one-fifth tax. I was part of the crowd that you saw, but we were never introduced.”
“Yes, I remember the event. Perhaps you would come and visit us in Itj-tawy again.”
This was more a statement than a question, and Intef simply gave an affirmative nod.
“And please call me Joseph when we have such informal meetings, as I will call you Intef.”
Intef gave an affirmative nod again, but with a bit of a smile.
“Now, please introduce me to some of your people and give me an idea of how you do your audits.”
Intef again gave a nod and began to walk toward the open space of the office. Joseph and Setka followed.

With Intef making introductions, Joseph talked briefly with a couple of scribes who showed the worksheets they were auditing. After the second such interview, Intef suggested that Joseph walk the floor and talk with whomever he wished without their supervisor being present. Joseph was impressed with the chief scribe’s understanding, as if he had read Joseph’s mind.
The information that Joseph gathered from the additional interviews confirmed the high integrity of Intef’s work, and also gave a positive portrayal of Intef as both man and manager. The comments were so uniform that he learned nothing different from any scribe he interviewed.
After an hour or so, Intef came to the table where Joseph had completed his interview with one of the older scribes. By then, it was well into the afternoon.
“Do you have a place to stay the night, Joseph? You and Setka are welcome to join me at my home.”
“I plan to see an old friend, but we would not impose on your wife and children with such short notice anyway. Thank you for the offer.”
“My wife and child both died as she attempted to give birth some years ago. It was a difficult delivery and little could be done once the bleeding began. What I mean is, your presence would cause no undue burden.”
“I am sorry for your double loss, Intef. Do you have other family?”
“My father recently died, and I rarely see my brother in the king’s army. As a result, I devote much of my time to my work. It is an attractive alternative at the moment.”
Joseph nodded. “I understand what you mean. And I see your dedication has rewarded the people of your sepat, particularly those with whom you work.”
“Thank you. If you will not join me tonight, perhaps you are hungry and would like to share a melon? I do not often have visitors.” With a smile, he added, “And often those who do come are complaining about the taxes we have assessed.”
Joseph knew that they must at least accept this offer and assented.
They spent another hour with Intef engaged in casual conversation while carving and sharing one melon, and then a second one. Joseph and Setka left about mid-afternoon.

Among Friends
Joseph guided them through the market area of the town where he examined the meats and fish for sale. He talked with the vendors and sometimes haggled over the price, but he bought nothing. As they left a few of the vendors, Joseph asked Setka to remember the specific cuts or fish.
They arrived at Pawara’s home, not too distant from the city center. Pawara would not arrive for at least a couple of hours, but Joseph hoped he might find Ana there.
The home looked much as it had on his last visit, the beginnings of a garden just planted surrounding three sides of the home. The addition Pawara had added for Ana’s medical work appeared to be in use as he could see the movement of someone through the thin curtain of a large window.
Joseph and Setka sat in a shaded area a little distance from the house and talked quietly while they waited for Ana’s patient to leave.
Only moments later, a woman emerged with Ana coming to the door to say a farewell. The woman had a slight limp and was bent forward slightly at the shoulders, but seemed in good spirits.
From the doorway, Ana saw the two men beneath the tree. She seemed to think nothing of it as she turned to go back inside, but did a quick double take as she became aware of who one of the men was.
“Joseph?” she called, a bit of a question in her voice. No doubt she would wonder at this unannounced presence after so many years. Of course, his visit a few years earlier had been unannounced as well.
“Ana! Good to see you. You look well.” Joseph and Setka were now walking toward her.
“What brings you and the officer to our door?”
“This is Setka. He has joined me more as a traveling companion than a military presence, but sometimes it is good to have that, also. Are you and Pawara well?”
“It is the season of planting, so he is busy organizing work around preserving the remaining floodwater. Of course, you are very familiar with all of that! A few people have come down with the lung disease, so I know he is shorthanded, but other than that he is well.
“Shall I bring some water out to the pleasant shade, or would you like to come inside?”
“Water will be good. Would you join us out here?”
“I would love the fresh air,” she said as she turned back to her door. “I will return in a moment.”
Moments later as they sat in the shade of the trees with cups in hand, Joseph spoke of their visit with Hannu earlier and his comments on the disease.
“With our good harvests, people are always healthier, so the outbreak surprises me a little. When there is enough food, people tend to be stronger, so perhaps this will be only a brief period of sickness.”
“Do you treat people with the lung disease, Ana?”
“There is little that I can do but to make sure that they have plenty of liquid, including broth and vegetables. Keeping them hydrated is the main thing, and if they will isolate themselves, perhaps family members will not come down with the disease, but that is hard for people to do.”
Joseph nodded. “What of the woman who just left? Were you able to be of help to her?”
Ana smiled. “She has been coming every few days for a couple of weeks. One leg is shorter than the other, and this was causing her gait to be off. The result was pain in her hips and lower back.
“I stretch the muscles in both legs, massaging them to loosen any tightness. She has exercises to do at home, also. Her legs are almost equal length now, and the pain is much reduced. Within a couple of months and with continued stretching and exercising on her own, she will be back to normal.”
Setka offered one of his rare observations. “When I was a child, I saw a doctor in Thebes treat my aunt for such a problem. He recited many incantations and did things to drive away the evil spirit that caused the problem. And I think he gave her some potion to drink.”
“Did your aunt get better?” asked Ana.
Setka shook his head. “No, she did not. Her condition gradually worsened and she became bent and frail. She died of some disease a few years later, I think, but she had a difficult time.”
“I am sure the teachers at the medical school have great knowledge of the spells and incantations. Out here, I just use the techniques and herbs that seem to work. Many have been handed down through the generations, but nothing is effective every time.”
Changing the subject, Ana said, “Pawara will be excited to see you. Will you stay for dinner?”
Joseph replied, “Yes, but only if I may assist with provisions. We passed through the market and saw excellent fish and beef. Would you be interested in something from one of the vendors?”
“We have plenty of grain and preserved produce in our storage, so you do not need to trouble yourself,” Ana protested.
Joseph attempted to walk a fine line in not insulting his hostess. Like the rest of the workers of the Egypt, he was sure they bought animal protein only rarely because of the expense.
“Ana, Setka and I have travelled for days with nothing but the bread and fruit we could carry with us from Itj-tawy. We would enjoy your produce, but allow us to add some meat or fish. And this will be our contribution in return for your hospitality.”
“Well,” said Ana, clearly pleased with the thought of a celebratory meal to commemorate the visit, “tell me what you thought looked good.”
Joseph gave a description of his top three choices, and Ana made a selection. Setka left with some copper coins Joseph gave him to make the purchase at the agreed price.

When Setka had left, Joseph commented on the large garden planted around the house. Little was coming up yet, but it was evident that the land had been worked.
“Yes, it is all planted, but the weeds have already begun.”
“You probably would be attacking them if I had not arrived. Why don’t we work together and get rid of twice as many.”
“I am sure that you did not travel from Itj-tawy to pull weeds, Joseph.”
“No, I came to visit and talk with friends. We can do that while we work.”
Ana laughed. “I understand how you advanced to your position with your diplomatic skills.”
They went to the garden. Ana gave him a weeding tool and they each began work. Easy conversation naturally followed.
At one point, Joseph commented on having just visited with Intef.
“I know of him,” said Ana. “I did not know him when his wife died several years ago. I heard about the breach birth and the inexperienced midwife who did not know how to handle it. Mother and child died. It was very sad.”
“I cannot imagine what Intef went through at that time,” responded Joseph, pausing as he thought of the tragic event.
After a moment of silence, he added, “And he told me of another tragic event, or at least one that was very unpleasant. He caught one of his scribes colluding with a landowner to avoid taxes.”
“What did he tell you about that?”
Joseph was surprised Ana was interested, but he told her the story as he remembered hearing it. She had stopped working and gave full attention to his words. When Joseph realized this, he stopped working and focused on the events as related to him.
He concluded, “The man seems to run a very efficient organization. I have never been made aware of any problems.”
Ana stood with her arms folded, an intense expression on her face that looked more like grief than anything else.
“Are you familiar with this, Ana?”
She came back to the moment and shook her head. “I knew the young man in this story. The news of what happened was devastating for his young wife and his parents. They were shamed and things did not go well for them.”
Looking directly at Joseph, Ana continued. “It seemed so unbelievable. He was always a good boy and appeared to be a fine young man. There did not seem to be a bad bone in his body.
“He loved the work he did. He liked working with numbers, solving their mysteries and reconciling them to a good end. The news that he had done such a thing shocked us all. It seemed so unbelievable,” she repeated.
“He went away for years to learn to be a scribe, didn’t he? Did he change while he was away?”
“No. He was more mature when he returned. He brought a wife and they lived with his parents for a year or so and built a new place very close to his parents’ home. They lived just down the way a bit,” she said, gesturing further along the road leading away from the city.
“I think it was only his third year back when he was assigned to the big estate. He was excited by the opportunity. He thought this was a sign of advancement and that he was doing well. Then when the harvest came and he was charged with fraud, everyone was shocked.”
She paused, recalling the events and feeling the emotions of the time.
Joseph’s positive impression of Intef began to melt in the light of this new perspective, and the slight unease he had felt at certain points in the story returned more strongly.
“Is there a chance that the young man was innocent?”
“His name was Shery. I remember it well because it was an unusual name, a name from Egypt’s past, sort of old fashioned. And I thought of him that way, too, old fashioned.”
With an unnerving sense of conviction, she said, “Yes! I am sure he was innocent. He was young and used by someone – the landowner, or another scribe, or Intef himself. But he would not, could not have done this deed.”
“Intef’s telling of events leaves no doubt. And his aide confirmed what happened.” Joseph paused and added, “But then, the aide said that he had not been present.”
Ana stepped closer to Joseph, wagging her finger at him. “Be careful of Intef. Maybe something happened inside him when he lost his wife and child, or perhaps he was always devious by nature. I think he destroyed a good man.”
“You have given me a new perspective, Ana. If your charge is true, the king may have a traitor in his ranks.”
Joseph thought about events of Intef’s story, organizing them in his mind so that they might fit this new perspective:

a scribe from Itj-tawy intervened so that even Intef lost control over taxes for this estate, but Intef personally has handled this estate each year since then;
the private questioning of Shery, so no one else heard Shery’s side of the story;
the quick judgment and exile;
no one would ever believe Shery after the chain of events that had occurred, and the amputated hand was evidence enough, evidence of a fair trial and of wrong doing;
finally, the dream: the second crow was not a lowly scribe whose crime was three years old, but was a man higher in the king’s service.

Ana still stood before him, hands on hips, waiting for a response.
“It has been three years, Ana. There must be evidence to overturn the wrong that was done. What evidence do we have?”
“I can see that you now have doubts about Intef. If this were his only crime, I would be surprised.”
Joseph nodded. Those were his thoughts, too.

“Joseph!” A familiar voice came from just down the road. Pawara had seen them standing in the garden as he neared home.
“Pawara, my friend. Good to see you!” replied Joseph as he walked toward him.
The two men embraced at the edge of the road. As Pawara proceeded to Ana, kissing her on the cheek and giving her a hug, he asked, “What brings you to our home, my friend?”
“Dinner, of course,” laughed Joseph. He had spied Setka coming from the opposite direction with the main course. “You see a part of it coming down the road,“ he said, pointing toward Setka, “and your wife has offered to supply the rest.”
“Sounds like a party!”
“It is!“ smiled Ana, “but only if I go and prepare for it.”
Joseph introduced Setka to Pawara and they examined the purchase from the market, a lamb roast. With Ana telling them to take care of the roast while she prepared the rest, they proceeded to the outdoor fire pit. There, on the shady side of the dwelling, they prepared a fire and began the cooking of the roast.
This provided a time for catching up on events as well as reminiscences. Pawara told of his children establishing their own families, and then told of what was occurring at this point in the flood management. Joseph responded with stories of his two sons and some of the positive highlights of his travels.
Only much later, as they were finishing their meal, did Joseph mention the topic of Intef and Shery.
“I told Ana earlier of meeting Intef earlier today. His office of scribes appears to run smoothly. He told of an incident a few years ago involving a young scribe named Shery. Ana has helped me to see a different perspective on Shery.”
“Hmmph.” This grunt was all that Pawara said as he took a last bite from his plate. After chewing and swallowing, he added, “There was something very wrong about what happened, but no one has been able to figure it out. I felt great sorrow for his father, a man who had become an overseer in the field work. He is a good man, a good leader, and I know he raised a good son.”
Joseph thought about doing a quick audit of the numbers on file for the last harvests, having a scribe calculate the totals from the numbers and comparing this with the totals sent to Itj-tawy. It seemed unreasonable, however, that this office would have used the same deceptive technique that Irsu had used.
Unless, of course, that this was where Irsu had first seen the deception and later adopted it himself! There were probably many ways for deception to corrupt the records.
This idea of corrupted records resonated with Joseph. More to himself than anyone else, he said, “I need to access the records at the scribal office.”
Pawara asked, “Do you think you could find something this much later?”
Joseph came back to the present. He did not want to go into Irsu’s crime, so he just said, “Perhaps. The way I have seen it done allows the appearance that the individual records are accurate and that the total on the papyrus matches the total in the field. It is the addition of those individual records that will not match.”
“Do you need Intef out of the office?”
“If he were gone, I have an excuse to look at the records. If all is well, he does not appear to be accused or under investigation. But if he is there, he will be defensive because of my mistrust even if he is innocent. He will no doubt become an enemy in that case.”
“I am sure that we can come up with a way for him to have to leave the office."
Joseph shook his head as he stood up. “No, I will not go behind his back. I simply will ask to see the records for Shery in that year and see how the file was manipulated. Although Intef reports to the Treasurer, the Treasurer reports to me. I have a need to know how the system is misused and may do so openly. That will be my first task tomorrow!”
“It is good that you have a guard with you,” said Pawara. “I would like to be with you, also, and see what really happened.”
Joseph replied, “For you it may become a confirmation of what you already know to be true. At this point, I must find out the truth. I fear that I desire the truth I have been told by Intef more than I desire the truth I will find tomorrow.”

Another Loss
The next morning, Joseph and Setka returned to the scribal office. One of the apprentices led them back to Intef’s office.
“Good morning, Joseph. And Setka,” he added after a brief pause. “What brings you back today?” The words were spoken with what seemed a genuine smile.
“Intef, the thought did not occur to me until last night that the fraud that occurred the first year of the one-fifth tax may be instructive. I want to know how it was perpetrated and would have succeeded had not Irsu used two teams on each account instead of one. Now, that is the standard practice, but learning of how the deception was accomplished may still be instructive.”
“As you say, methods have changed since then. I am not sure how seeing the records will be helpful. The scribe falsified the projected harvest expecting to be able to falsify the actual numbers.”
Intef shrugged. “Seeing the numbers will not make this any clearer.”
“Humor me, please, Intef. It is a simple task to retrieve the records from that time, is it not?”
“Yes, yes, of course. You want to see the original projection and also the actual numbers, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Wait here and I will have them retrieved.”
“Excuse me, Intef, but you have such an efficient operation here. I will accompany your clerk to the files and see the process of storing and retrieving. This may be helpful for other locations.”
“Allow me to go out and get one of my men to help you. I will remain here until you are satisfied.”
“What? Will you not accompany us to answer questions on the process? I was quite taken with the efficiency suggested by your talk and my brief interviews with some of the workers.
“Some questions were raised last night as we discussed your operation, and I was at a loss to answer. Now I would like to see the process in action, and I am sure that you will be more enlightening as to how the details fit into the larger picture.”
“Certainly. As you wish. Follow me.”

Intef turned his back and with long strides made his way to where several the young clerks awaited instruction.
“Boy, come with me. I have some files for you to retrieve.”
The young man he had addressed fell in behind him and in front of Joseph and Setka. When they reached the destination, Intef described the file he wanted. The young man climbed up the rack to the top shelf, shuffled pages for a moment, and returned with a file, several written sheets between two that were blank save the name of the landowner on the front.
Intef opened the file and handed it to Joseph. “Here you see the amounts of grain, barley, flax, and such estimated for the year in question.”
Joseph examined the papyrus. The date was the correct year and there were definite signs of aging. He looked at the totals for each type of produce.
Flipping through the other pages, he saw the figures for plots of land covered by different crops and the projected estimates for each plot.
Feigning an air of discouragement, Joseph said, “Indeed, there are a great many numbers and no way to make sense of whether they are correct or not.”
Leaving the folder open and laying it on a nearby table, he added, “Perhaps you could show me the numbers for the year after this. Those figures were accurate, weren’t they?”
“Yes, of course.” Intef nodded to the boy and he went to a nearby section, rummaged through pages on a shelf about shoulder level, and brought back another folder.
Joseph again looked at the numbers, comparing the two years side by side.
The subtotals for each area of land and the subtotals of each type of crop appeared similar from one year to the next, but the grand totals for the two largest crops, grain and barley, were noticeably smaller the second year.
Joseph looked more closely at the data on the harvest as calculated by Irsu’s independent team in the first year of the tax and compared that to the data on the second year of the harvest, the year after Shery had been exposed for manipulating the data.
He sat on a stool and counted the separate plots of land producing wheat in each year. There were 37 plots in Irsu’s record of the first harvest. There were only 35 in Shery’s falsified forecast for that year, and also only 35 plots in Intef’s record of the harvest in the second year.
He did the same count for plots of barley and found 23 in Irsu’s record and 21 in Shery’s falsified forecast and in Intef’s harvest the following year. A quick look at the fewer plots of other crops showed lower numbers that were equal on both reports.
Intef showed his impatience, alternately pacing the floor and standing with arms folded tapping his foot. All of the other scribes in the building were busy with their own calculations regarding their latest surveys.
“Please get the next two years for me,” requested Joseph without looking up.
Intef looked down the long aisle and clapped his hands. The young man who had gotten these documents rushed forward and was ordered to get the next two years of harvests for this landowner. He returned quickly with the folders.
Joseph thanked him and counted the plots for wheat and barley for those years. The numbers were the same low numbers from the previous year’s harvest.
Joseph looked up at Intef, standing above him with arms folded. “Remind me again, please, of how Shery’s numbers were found to be inaccurate.”
“As I said, Irsu’s team found a significantly larger harvest of two crops than had been forecast. Obviously, Shery had given a smaller total forecast that he would later confirm with an understated harvest. The result would have meant a substantial benefit to the owner who, no doubt would have rewarded Shery.”
“And there is no possibility of a simple error, an unintentional incorrect number for these two forecasts?”
“That is highly unlikely, that there would be two errors and both in the landowner’s favor. I checked them myself.”
“But you did not identify a specific error, only observed that the totals for the forecast and the actual harvest for the plots were far too different?”
“Yes. The individual plots always have some variation between the forecast and the actual, but any differences in the totals for one crop are likely to be mirrored in the totals for the other crops.”
Lowering his arms and leaning forward a bit, his voice now somewhat belligerent, Intef asked, “Why are you dredging up this old incident? It was successfully handled and, as you have admitted, there has been nothing suspicious since that time.”
Joseph had no doubt that the chief scribe had used these intimidating techniques previously. His official position and his obvious physical strength both put anyone else in the building at his mercy, and Joseph judged there was little mercy in the man.
“The fact that Irsu sent an independent scribe to lead the team handling the harvest was fortunate, wasn’t it? Otherwise, there would have been no reason to suspect Shery.”
Intef relaxed somewhat. “That is correct. A problem was identified, and I accept responsibility because Shery was under my command. I resolved the problem, and all is well, as you affirmed earlier.”
Taking a step back, as if to return to his office, he added, “Is there anything else?”
“Yes, Intef, there is.” Joseph placed three sheets of papyrus side by side: Shery’s projected harvest, the actual harvest recorded by Irsu’s scribe, and the actual harvest of the following year.
“Irsu’s scribe recorded a larger actual harvest than Shery had forecast, but there are two more fields of wheat and of barley recorded in the harvest than in the forecast. Might this have accounted for the different totals?”
For the first time, Intef did not appear as if he were in control of the situation. He looked at the third papyrus, the one for which he was responsible, and then back at the other two. Nothing was apparent on the surface, so he forged ahead.
“No doubt you have counted the fields in the reports from the first year, but that only confirms Shery’s crime.” He smiled. “But, as I am sure you are aware, farmers change the crops among the fields and even allow a field to lay fallow for a year every so often. There will be differences from year to year, and even an intended planting may change at the last minute for a number of reasons.”
“Yes, I am aware, Intef, of what you just said. And I am becoming more aware of what you have left unsaid.
“Tell me, why in the harvest of the following year, in the report which you took it upon yourself to supervise, does the report show the same lower number of fields as in Shery’s forecast? Why does it not show the number of fields as in Irsu’s actual harvest?
“And you also can explain why the harvests recorded in each of the following three years had the same lower number of fields and had harvests close to Shery’s forecast for the first year.
“Could it be that no one told Irsu’s man not to count a couple of large wheat fields and another couple of large barley fields?”
“You should be very careful, Joseph. You are making a charge against a man of high rank and good reputation. You have said that there has been nothing suspicious from the scribal office of the Fayum, and that is because there is nothing.” His hand held up in a fist, he continued, “Be careful before you besmirch another man’s name and reputation.”
“As careful as you were when you had Shery’s hand cut off and then exiled him into the desert?”
Intef backed down. “He got what he deserved for his crime,” he stated bitterly.
Any feeling that Joseph might have had for an explanation exonerating Intef had disappeared by now.
“But it was not just his crime was it? It was your crime. You may even have set up the young man to take the fall when Irsu surprised you and assumed responsibility for the landowner’s harvest report.
“How much did you receive for your crime, Intef? What has been your reward for theft, for destroying an innocent man, for abuse of the power and integrity of your office?”
Intef had begun to protest angrily, but he stopped. He was seething, his fists clenched.
Joseph deflected the man’s attention to the reports on the table. “There is the indictment of your character, the record of your crime, and the evidence that convicts you.”
A crowd had silently gathered around, none daring to come too close but all desiring to witness the great event that was occurring in their staid building. Setka remained beside Joseph, the only witness to the long unravelling of Intef’s true nature.
Joseph spoke quietly to him, “Go get the guard, Setka.”
Setka nodded and took off at a run for the front door.
Addressing Intef again, Joseph said, “You took advantage of a young scribe, disguising your crime as his. You….”
Intef had been frozen in place for a moment, stunned by the sudden turn of events, but asserted himself again with a loud interruption.
“You have not heard the last of me, Joseph, or whatever name you choose to call yourself!”
He might have lunged for Joseph but several of the men had come nearer. Individually, none were a match for their leader, but together they were ready to pounce upon him. Joseph wondered if perhaps this feeling had been building in them for a long time.
Without another word, Intef turned and raced for the door. Setka had just stepped outside but heard the footsteps following.
To the guard, he said, “A madman is coming out. Help me restrain him.”
The guard had no idea of what had just occurred or who the madman rushing toward the door might be, but he planted himself squarely in the doorway a split second before Intef stepped into the light.
Escape was foiled when Intef collided heavily against the guard, a man of at least his own size and strength. The guard had been braced for the impact, but Intef was surprised and bounced off the leather armor the guard wore. He fell back, sprawled across the threshold, momentarily stunned.
By then, other of the scribes had arrived and they took firm hold of Intef as he rose.
Setka took charge. “Bind him and hold him for trial.”
One of the apprentices ran and got a length of rope. He brought it back to Setka, who bound Intef’s arms tightly behind his back.
When Joseph stepped forward, Intef began spewing threats at both Joseph and his former employees, his face bright red as he gyrated in a fiendish dance of impotent rage. With his arms pinned behind him, he would have been comical if not for the circumstances and the sheer vileness he spewed forth.
Setka, the young soldier who had seen no battle and longed for action, the mostly silent companion of Joseph on this journey, balled up his fist and hit the bound man on the side of his face with enough force to knock him down.
Intef rose on one knee but could rise no higher. He collapsed back onto the ground and closed his eyes, blood running from the corner of his mouth into the dust at the edge of the entryway.
Joseph put a hand on Setka’s shoulder as he came beside him and looked down at the semi-conscious man. Looking up at the guard, he said, “Thank you both.”
To the scribes looking down at the man who had been their boss only a few moments before, he said, “Some of you help him into the building. Sit him on a chair and clean his face.”
Several moved forward and three lifted Intef to a standing position and helped him move unsteadily into the shadows of the office.
To those remaining, Joseph said, “This is a new day, and you will have a new leader. He will be one who can carry the title of scribe with honor, and continue to guide you in the practice of the calling which you have answered.
“Your work is important to Egypt, to the Fayum, to your families, and to each of you personally. This is a part of your identity. Continue to make this office a beacon of accuracy and a haven of community as you strive together for the betterment of all.” Gesturing toward the man who had held the number two position, “The general supervisor will temporarily assume the duties of chief scribe.
“We will meet again at noon. Please return to your tasks,” he smiled as he pointed into the building, “with thanks from the king.”
Aside to the new chief scribe he said, “Let’s you and I go to your office and discuss what each of us must do now.” He gestured for the man to lead him and Setka back inside.
As they walked through the building toward the secluded area Intef had used for privacy, Joseph said to Setka, “I am impressed by your presence of mind as you took charge of the situation back there. And your right hook was very powerful.”
“I must admit that I acted more by instinct than thought. The arrogance of the man and the vileness of his words demanded action.”
“Well done,” commended Joseph.
What was left of the morning was spent in assuring the new chief scribe of the support of the king in his new temporary position, and then in determining what must be done to ensure the continued smooth operation of the center.
Intef was to remain with hands bound behind his back and secured so that he could not walk away. Joseph sent a messenger to the small army post requesting an escort to Itj-tawy so that Intef could stand before the king as the charges were made against him.
He also stated that an audit of the records was of highest importance to determine the extent of the losses in revenue and to provide firm evidence against both the landowner and Intef.

At noon, he called everyone together. Word had spread and every scribe of the office within an hour’s walk was present in an open area of the building from which all furniture had been pushed back to the walls or racks. There was such a crowd that Joseph was sure curiosity seekers and perhaps family members had come, also.
He told the guard who had blocked Intef’s escape to gag the man and to bring him gagged to the back of the room. He wanted Intef to hear, but not to be seen or to be able to hinder the return to normalcy necessary for everyone’s benefit.
He stood atop a wooden box to better see and be seen. The room quickly fell silent.
“Some of you were present, and I am sure all of you are now aware, that Intef has committed crimes against your king, against your community, and against your profession. He will be taken to Itj-tawy, tried before the king, and given the appropriate punishment.
“In the meantime, your new chief scribe” (and he called the man’s name and signaled for him to stand next to him), is the representative of the king until there is a formal appointment. You will obey his command as he adheres to the policies and procedures that ensure that your own best interests are kept in the forefront.
“He will begin an investigation into the extent of the damage done, and he will ensure that measures are taken to prevent such a lapse again. And he has words to speak to you now as he assumes responsibility for the scribal office here in the Fayum.”
Joseph stepped down and walked to the side of the crowd as the new chief scribe gave a brief speech. He gave the assurance of continuity and some general instructions before final words of encouragement and dismissal back to their posts.
There would probably be little work accomplished the rest of the day, but the transition to a new era had begun.
Joseph asked that copies of the incriminating documents be made for presentation to the king at Intef’s trial. He asked for certain other supporting documents that he would take with him.
When the detachment of guards arrived, it was late afternoon. Joseph had not wanted to leave until another duty had been accomplished, so the command to establish a secure place for the prisoner for the night was expected. They would leave in the morning for Itj-tawy with the prisoner and the evidence.
Tonight, Joseph must go to the family of Shery. Explaining would be difficult, but he must exonerate the young man. He now had no doubt that Intef had badgered Shery into falsifying figures without Shery being aware they were incorrect.
And he would ask King Senusret to provide three years of wages to them, the payment as a confession of error by the justice system. He would also obtain the king’s counsel on the appropriate punishment for the landowner.
And Pawara and Ana would feel relieved – angry at the injustice, but relieved for the family.

An Evil Thread
Joseph, Setka, and a troop escort began the journey back to Itj-tawy. Intef walked in the midst of them, his hands bound behind him. This was a solemn procession, as one of mourning.
Shery was exonerated, but too late. The perpetrator would receive his reward, but to what purpose? Another life would be lost because the man had violated the basic laws of ma’at. This evil would be sacrificed on the altar of justice, but the evil of the world would not even notice its loss.
The way passed through long barren stretches. Topping what counted as a small hill along the barren expanse, Joseph looked to the north. A similar small rise stood against the horizon. He imagined a one-armed man watching silently.
And as they passed, the one arm drew out the sword on the man’s waist. He cast it down so it the blade sank into the earth, the handle vibrating until it move only slightly with the wind. The one-armed man turned and walked toward Kahun.
He wished that this were true sight and not a vision.
They arrived at The Residence at mid-afternoon. The silence continued even through the relief of arriving at their destination, a community of people with water and food where they could rest.
Joseph dismissed Setka and ordered the soldiers to remain around Intef while he went into the king.
The king would not be free of his guests for some hours. There was no rush. Joseph ordered Intef to enter the prison that had been Joseph’s home for three years. The guards were to remain with him until the king summoned the accused man.
With a heavy heart lifted considerably by the presence of Asenath and the boys, Joseph put events of the Fayum out of his mind. He played with Manasseh and then with Ephraim as he and Asenath discussed events of these last few days.
When the king summoned him, Joseph had Intef brought from the prison. By the time the former chief scribe of the Fayum arrived, Joseph had outlined the case against him.
Senusret had Intef stand in front of him. They were in the formal room with the slightly elevated throne. The king remained silent as Intef came before him, arms bound behind his back.
“We have known one another a long time, Intef.” The statement hung in the air as Intef remained silent.
“I have seen the proof, and Joseph has said that you have confessed. What have you to say in your defense?”
“As king, you have a great responsibility. Need I remind you that your responsibility is to the people of Egypt – both the rich and the poor, the farmer and the city dweller?”
“What is your point, Intef?”
“When the king neglects his duty, the kingdom suffers. Ma’at is strained and will finally break.
“You enrich yourself with the extraordinary tax in these good years, and when the famine comes, you will enrich yourself further by the high prices such stores of grain will command. And the gold and silver will come from the east, and they will enrich you, not to the people you have robbed. You may give the remainder of the grain, what lies along the edges of the storage bins, to the poor of Egypt. But it will be a mere crust of bread while you sell the bulk, the full loaf, to foreigners with money.
“But why should you alone become rich? Why not share the wealth? And so I take my share as I follow your example.”
Senusret was visibly angered but let the man confess to the guilt that was to bring punishment upon himself. He remained in control, still seated on the throne, but he spoke in a voice made deeper by his emotion.
“Had your charge been true, would this have justified your actions?”
“Oh, my charges are true! Is a crime against a criminal really a crime, or is it a correction in the direction of justice?”
“You are a fool, Intef, a man without understanding. My policies do not have to pass before you for approval, but had you understood what the future holds and what my course of action will be, you would have thanked me!”
Intef scoffed. “Irsu told me of your discussions in council and your goals. And then he spoke of how you buy grain from the east at low prices while you confiscate the produce of Egyptians. And then you will sell at high prices when the famine comes. Your people will starve as money flows into your coffers from other lands.”
“You accuse me of this, and use Irsu’s name, as well? You have no understanding, for you think this false charge excuses you!”
“I need no excuse other than what I have said. Irsu and I talked of this, but for years he was afraid to act. I took action, and I stand before you now only by the chance discovery by your interpreter of dreams,” casting a sneer at Joseph.
Pointing a finger in Joseph’s direction, he asked, “Did you dreams foretell you of this, Zaphnath-Paaneah?”
His tone was one of mockery, and Joseph chose not to answer.
“The God of Joseph is with him, and the gods of Egypt are with me. None of these gods are with you, Intef.
“Your treachery deserves no mercy. Your crimes against the king, against your profession, and against Shery cannot be undone. There is but one penalty. You have not yet made a defense that is acceptable. Have you more to say?”
“I would fill sheet after sheet of parchment with charges against you. You are not the king your father was, the warrior against the Nubians, the champion of Egypt. You are a mere shadow of a king, eclipsed by men and events much stronger than you. You will fall….”
Midway through this speech, Senusret subtly had nodded to the guard, who now clapped a hand over Intef’s mouth. The other hand grabbed the rope binding Intef’s hands, and lifted up with great force. Intef gave a muffled groan and ceased resistance.
“Your speech condemns you, and I condemn you also. I take away your name, erasing it from all records. Your body will be left in the desert for the scavenger animals. May your spirit likewise be devoured when your heart is weighed in the balance and found wanting.”
He nodded again. A second guard had come beside Intef, grabbing his left upper arm, the first guard now holding the right. They whisked the condemned man back to prison to await execution of his sentence.
The room fell immediately silent after the struggling prisoner had been taken away, no sound replacing the footsteps now lost in the distance of the cavernous garden area.
Senusret said, more to himself than to Joseph, “May none of his charges prove true.”
“We can control only our own actions, not the perceptions of others,” Joseph offered.
Looking at Joseph now, he spoke in a clear and firm voice. “The negotiated settlements with Menna and Merkha were appropriate for their crimes. What is appropriate for this cheat in the Fayum who has preyed on the fear of easterners to satisfy his greed and corrupt a chief scribe?”
As so often happens, the goals of justice and politics dictated very different responses.
Justice called for appropriate penalties for the landowner. He had withheld taxes, corrupted a high official, and had caused the maiming and exile of an honest man. He had used fear as leverage, exploiting the imagined threat of a horde of barbarians from the east taking part of Egypt for their own.
Politically, the king must walk a fine line. There was justice and discouraging such actions on one side of the balance scale, and the united enmity of these wealthy men against the king on the other side of the balance. Harsh action against one landowner could galvanize the others, uniting them into a confederacy against the king.
“Briefly, I thought that judgment by his peers, the landowners, would be appropriate. His guilt is clear. They could judge only as you would, and so it would be done.
“But then I saw that this elevated the landowners to a position they cannot claim. Intef’s crime against Shery was a crime against an individual in your service, and also a crime against every citizen of Egypt. You have given to him what he has earned.
"Intef’s and the landowner’s crimes of fraud was against you and against the nation of Egypt. Intef is punished already. The landowner is an accomplice in Shery’s unjust sentence, and the justice can be harsher than that punishment meted out to Menna and Merkha.
“You represent justice in your kingdom, not the landowners. The Tale of the Eloquent Peasant speaks of ma’at, Egypt’s history of living in accordance with law and justice and righteousness. In the Tale, the peasant unjustly deprived of his possessions is given the landowner’s property.”
Senusret nodded. “By not taking the landowner’s property for himself, but giving it to the wronged man, the king avoided the charges of self-interest and impropriety. He modelled ma’at for the accused and the accuser.”
“Justice is a hard thing, is it not?” asked Joseph. “And yet for the landowner who has shown no mercy, there is no right for him to expect mercy.”
Senusret smiled. “That is one of the benefits of your counsel, Joseph. The question is posed: ‘Should it be this way or that way, one way or another?’ And you give the answer, ‘Neither of those two choices, but here is a third way.’”
“We are often given false choices, aren’t we?”
“Yes,” said the king. He paused before adding, “I have thought of that point often since the incident involving Irsu. And now we have a similar situation with Intef.
“Each saw a situation, Asiatics in the delta, and saw only two possibilities. There was a threat if we did not deal with them, and safety if they were kept out. But we see a third alternative, the benefit of their presence under the guidance of Egyptian law.
“What would the landowners of the delta say if there were fewer migrant workers, or those who operate the mines if there were fewer Asiatics?”
Leaning forward, the king looked at Joseph as both the subject of the conversation, one to be examined, and also as a commentator who would offer expert advice on the subject. He spoke in a more personal rather than regal tone.
“What of you, Joseph? Your heritage is from the east, yet you shave and wear Egyptian clothes. Your speech does not betray you. You speak better Egyptian than most Egyptians (except that you occasionally drop the ‘h’ when you speak a word that is ‘sh.’) Indeed, you appear in every respect Egyptian.
“Do you ever have thoughts of returning home?”
This seemed an honest question, like one individual to another rather than as king to subordinate. “I thought of the things you mention as I shed the outer trappings of my heritage in my first year in Egypt.
“I find the shave a pleasant morning ritual, and fresh skin is cooler.
“Were I in Canaan, I would prefer the woolen clothes for the cold of winter but the Egyptian linen for the hot days of summer.
“And most importantly, my home is in Egypt, in Itj-tawy, with my wife and sons. Canaan does not call to me.
“Only God I did not – or cannot – leave behind. Have I not spoken of God bringing me here for this purpose, to serve you and Egypt? Is there no higher purpose in life than to live as you have been called?”
The king laughed. “You even make the answer to what should be a difficult question appear easy. Let me ask: Do you have no desires apart from what your God would have you to desire?”
Joseph felt uncomfortable, one of the few times he had done so before the king. “Please do not consider me to have been created higher than other men. I have had my share of desires that were my own, desires that held no place for God. And I have seen the results and regretted my actions.
“I had hoped that I had changed with each lesson. And some things I did learn,” he smiled, “but I appear to prefer to be a professional student and find I must learn the same lessons anew on a different page.”
“Yes, so often we must relearn the same lesson,” agreed the king, returning the smile.
Leaning back in his chair, Senusret resumed the earlier discussion.
“Now, what is to be the fate of the unjust landowner?” Senusret’s reference to the villain in the Tale of the Eloquent Peasant was clear.
“In the Tale, the king must make the decision, or the story carries no weight.”
“Ah! It always comes back to that, does it not? But we do not know the whereabouts of the one-armed Shery. And even if we did, could he manage such an estate?”
Joseph thought of Pawara’s words about Shery’s father. “We may never find Shery, but his father is still alive. Let us collect the unpaid portion of taxes as should have been paid each year, and give the penalty to Shery’s father.”
The king mulled over the suggestion for a full minute. “Is that not true justice?” he asked enthusiastically. He rose as he continued past his rhetorical question, “The story is emblematic of truth and harmony. And we have injustice brought down and replaced with justice lifted up.”
His decisiveness resulted in a command. “Prepare your case against the landowner, Joseph. You will present the formal charges with supporting documentation to the man in front of the people of his estate. Behind you will be a contingent from General Djar. The landowner will have no opportunity to offer resistance.
“Will you have the documentation ready the first thing in the morning?”
“The information is all here. I will write the charges on a cover sheet of parchment. This will take only a few minutes.”
“Good bring it to me when you are done and I will set my seal upon it. You will return to the Fayum tomorrow to execute the sentence and to provide justice for Shery’s family.”
He added as an afterthought, “And we must be sure no advance notice gets out. I do not want violence and bloodshed. The story will be that the soldiers with you will rotate out with those currently camped at the granary. Are we clear on instructions?”
“Yes, my king. I will return with the information shortly.”
Joseph bowed and exited, taking the documentation, fresh papyrus, a pen, and ink with him to an empty room. And then he began composition of the formal charges. His hope was that this would be the close of another difficult chapter in the years of plenty.
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5.3 a seed planted and​a weed pulled

5.3 a seed planted and
a weed pulled