Shadow of the Sun (The Shadow Saga) (28 page)

Why did Mery-Ptah not reveal this to me?
Sit-Amun searched her lover’s eyes.

“Akhenaten is now the Pharaoh. In his youth he suffered one ailment after another, and we never anticipated that he would survive long enough to come to power,” said Mery-Ptah turning away from Sit-Amun’s gaze.

“While Pharaoh Amunhotep was alive, he reined in his son’s blind devotion to the Aten. But now, our watchers report that in private he excoriates our Hidden Lord Amun. We needed to reclaim the Ben Ben’s power in the name of Amun.”

“But why steal it? Would it not behoove us…” Sit-Amun molded both her words and sculptures with great care, “to overthrow Heliopolis instead and keep the Ben Ben stone intact? Now, the misaligned grids of Khemit have reduced our once thriving capital to wreckage.”

“Did you think our plan was to simply steal the Ben Ben?” Ptah-Mose sniveled. “We could not just march the massive relic out of an underground room and heave it across the desert sands by caravan.”

Sit-Amun hated it when any of the priests talked down to her. She was the rightful ruler of Khemit. Had they forgotten their promise? Still, she kept her tone carefully neutral. “Then what was the plan?”

“The plan was to replace the Heliopolitan priests with Hanuti sorcerers,” replied the cloaked one with the creaky voice. “Our desire was to reattune the Ben Ben stone to Amun’s ancient energy to maintain our domination over the masses. But those All-Seeing Jackals gave us away. We underestimated the destruction this would cause.”

“With all this upheaval and growing pestilence, how will you find a way to return the throne to me?” Sit-Amun could not contain her sense of urgency. Time was slipping away, and so was her wealth. “You promised me that Akhenaten and Nefertiti would never be named co-regents. Did they not sign a blood-oath before they came to power?”

“No, they refused, and do not lay this at my feet,” the Dark One retorted. “Need I remind you that you failed your end of the bargain?”

He stabbed a finger at her. “Ti-Yee succeeded in turning the Pharaoh’s favor toward your brother. Why is she still alive? We have given you ample time to fulfill your promise. And that child, that prophecy has already intruded upon our Opet rituals. Who knows the ramifications of that? If we cannot continue the Opening of the Orifices and the consumption of pineal glands to receive our visions, then how will we sustain the Hanuti’s control and longevity?”

Ptah-Mose raised a fist. “We must break those Atenists one member at a time. I have Amun archers ready and at my command.”

“I will take care of the child by enticing her with magic and sorcery,” said Sit-Amun. “She is young and impressionable. When she gets a taste of true power, she will be ours.”

The Dark Lord gave a partial smile. “Then we can implement this plan immediately. Ptah-Mose, Mery-Ptah and I have just been summoned to meet with Pharaoh Akhenaten.”

“T
hese swarms of flies will choke the life out of me,” said Ptah- Mose. He batted at the attackers as he squeezed his girth through the doors. “First the frogs, now flies. I cannot take it.” Mery-Ptah, The Amun High Priest, covered his nose and mouth with scented linens. “Pestilence will be the end of us. The locusts destroyed my vineyards and wheat fields.” His slight limp from his clubfoot was hidden by his long sheath.

A crumpled man in a black linen cloak followed them. “Silence, you fools.”

They marched up the long aisle and bowed gratuitously as we sat upon our thrones. The gestures lacked enthusiasm or authenticity. The three Amun priests humbled themselves before my father. Yet the Pharaoh sat with his eyes closed and his hands folded in the resounding silence of his inner thoughts. The royal guards stood at attention around the perimeter of the minor reception hall in the Malkata Palace.

Attendants plied mudbricks across the doors and windows to keep the pests outside, making our usual bright rooms seem lifeless and stuffy. Grand Djedti Ti-Yee sat with her pair of tamed golden lionesses to my father’s right.

“My Son, our guests have arrived,” she said, and touched his shoulder. Netri made no motion to acknowledge them.

Amaret, the Seeress, had her ever-alert brown owl resting on one shoulder and her hawk upon the other. Meti and I sat upon our gilded thrones to his far left.

“Your Majesty, we have answered your request,” said Ptah-Mose. His putrid body odor dripped from the thick creases of fat. Even his jowls quaked when he spoke. Receiving no response from my father, his eyes drifted over to me. His lecherous intentions were clear.

Born a poor farmer’s son, he rose up the ranks to Vizier, the highest office in the land under my Grand Djed. Perhaps that was why he felt entitled to reward himself with children like that golden Khonsu boy.

“Why were we called away from the noonday High Rituals to Amun?” added Mery-Ptah with a smile that didn’t emanate from his heart. He had the countenance of a man of noble birth who had long served Amun. The angry boiling scar upon his face reminded me of my encounter with Sit-Amun in the red tent. I shuddered.

Silence. My father remained in repose. Their unanswered questions made the hackles rise upon their necks like puffed up roosters crowing to be noticed. The one garbed in black, with his eerie hood drawn over his face, was the leader. He smelled like rotting flesh.

“If you cannot raise this Pharaoh from the dead, then we will leave to attend to more worthy matters,” said the black wizard to his cronies. As he clutched his wooden staff, one of his singed fingernails fell off.

Suddenly, I knew this dark sorcerer controlled all the other Amun officials. In exchange for his immense magical and psychic powers, he had sold his ba, or soul, to the maledicted beings of the shadowy force. Ases-Amun’s filthified existence manifested in knotted limbs and an ill temper. Most of his teeth were rotten, his gums swollen and infected. He paid a high physical price to use his body as a container for evil. Meti shuffled in her throne. “Why does your father not speak?”

I whispered, “He waits.”

“For what? If he does not respond, they will leave. Ti-Yee should salvage this.”

I could see the violet and gold swirl above my father’s head. Those lights extended into the heavens to find his Divine connection the same way he did at the opening ceremony of the Gem-pa-Aten. “He waits for the Aten to speak through him.”

Seeing no change in my father’s disposition, the three priests turned away.

“So the bloodline has left us with this fool of a Pharaoh?” said Mery-Ptah as he maneuvered his clubfoot toward the door.

“He will leave only a blot in Pharonic history, this unintelligible dreamer,” said Ptah-Mose with utter disdain as he scratched his belly.

“We must tighten our reins upon this one.” Mery-Ptah spoke over his shoulder. “This puppet needs to be manipulated to entertain the masses.”

“If we can even wake him up to make an appearance,” sniveled Ases-Amun, pounding his staff.

Meti struggled not to hush these heckling jackals. But I knew she feared their certain wrath when they learned their temples would be closed and their decadent rituals disbanded under the new law. In their pact with the heavenly fallen ones, the Hanuti dedicated themselves to disrupting human evolution. They despised the idea of the purification of the spiritually devoted. When light flourished, dark forces were drawn to devolve and enslave the minds and souls of the inhabitants.

The guards stood poised, yet no one had ordered the restraint of these most unwelcome guests. Suddenly, all the doors slammed shut. The great echoing thunder made everyone jump. No wind had caused this abrupt closure. The doors, now fortified, left the priests trapped.

With only the slightest stir of his finger, Netri sent out the pulsing force of Aten, and even the solid electrum doors did his bidding. My heart soared with pride. The Pharaoh was now awake and empowered with radiance.

Netri’s eyes flew open. "Such a hurry to depart my company before I have had the pleasure to enjoy yours?”

The Hanuti swiveled around and lost their balance. My father’s deep resonant voice of the Aten reverberated through the hall and within the depth of our bellies. If the Aten attuned to one’s beliefs and heart, then his voice seemed pleasing and joyous, but if one couldn’t align to this vibration, then one’s nervous system would feel the sting of a thousand needles.

Ptah-Mose covered his ears and cowered. When he recovered, he reeled his obesity around. “Even the uninitiated priests could display this unimpressive act of magic, Your Majesty.” His face flushed a crimson hue, from trying to hide the true tone he wished to take.

“Impress you?” My father laughed at the absurdity. “While Pharaohs of the past have groveled in submission to remain enthroned at your whim, I have no ambition to impress you with empty flattery and meaningless actions.”

Ases-Amun ambled backward. The presence of the Aten shining through my father immobilized the dark magician, for pure evil recognized pure love. “Then why command our presence and keep us waiting? You nap while your regal duties go unfilled. It does not instill confidence in us about your ability to rule. Perhaps we can suggest someone more capable of filling this position, as temporary as it is,” said the twisted leader.

Spittle dripped from his mouth as he made reference to the ancient Hanuti custom imposed upon all Pharaohs and Per Aats that dictated the length of their rule. Before a Pharaoh or Per Aat could inherit the throne, they signed a contract with a blood oath that the duration of their rule would be determined according to the stars. The Hanuti’s insidious infiltration of the royal family’s political standing was a longheld treacherous secret. My lineage had understood that our throne could only be safe if beholden to the corrupt inner circle of Amun High Priests.

Their impenetrable chokehold upon the ruling families was legendary. My father refused to sign when he was announced as co-regent. Grand Djed wasn’t happy but it was too late to name someone new.

“Prostrate yourself before the Aten. The Divine One has spoken,” replied Netri, again returning to his jovial mood.

“We have no intention of kneeling before you,” stated Mery-Ptah.

“Listen to your elders; the erudite could educate you. The sun and its physical light are meaningless. It is the hidden inner light that is more potent. We thrive in the shadow of the sun.” His nostrils flared and he continued. “The rabble crave to be taken care of. They yearn for domination and direction. You think that the dawning of an age of light will free the people? You cannot change their innate insecurities and inability to learn the mysteries. The poor will always be poor. The sick will grow sicker and die. Your light will not change that. You may enchant them awhile with peace but they will grow fat and lazy when that freedom becomes a burden.”