Shadow of the Sun (The Shadow Saga) (41 page)

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I
n the months it took to complete the palaces, I took care to keep myself covered. My chest, which ached often, had grown in size. With all the confusion and hurry to build our city, no one took note of my changing body or my bandaged hands.

When Netri wasn’t supervising every detail, he took to his tent with an excruciating headache. The enraged Amun priests constantly barraged him with psychic attacks. Amaret was able to shield Netri from the worst of it, but even she needed her rest. Pentu gave him medicinal aid and, in his free time, directed my daily lessons in the healing arts, astronomy, and initiatic science. The Imhotep conducted my studies in sacred geometry and sacred architecture. Amaret taught me initiatic dance and inner vision. I kept a close eye on Asgat and made sure she slept by my side every night, though it troubled me that she did not obey me. Every morning she disappeared. How could she escape through the secured lid of my enclosed domain?

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O
ne cloudless winter day after I turned ten, the painters put the finishing touches on the friezes decorating the whitewashed walls of our glorious abode. I must have bent too close to the wet colors because my lower sheath became soaked in red ochre. How clumsy of me.

My stomach ached from the fear of being discovered. How could I have been so foolish? Now, I would be admonished for disrupting the workers.

Amaret strode down the long faience-tiled hallway painted with palm fronds and flying ducks. Her flat feet as big as two barges sailed toward me. She clothed herself in an ancient, loose woven sheath and I could see her sagging breasts swing as she walked.

“Merit-Aten, where have you been? Pentu is ready with your morning lessons.” She started to turn to leave, then halted. She sniffed the air, faced me again and cocked her head. “What vexes you?”

“I had an accident. I leaned against the wall.” I hid my hands behind my back.

“I would say congratulations are in order,” she whispered as she maneuvered me past the workers dabbing paint on the borders.

I felt fatigued. My stomach throbbed, probably from the sour green melon I ate for breakfast. “I do not feel well.”

“It is most understandable when a young woman has her first blood.”

“Who has?” I asked, always wanting to know court gossip.

“You. This evening, we must perform the Ritual In Honor Of First Awakening. This is most auspicious. Tonight will be a full moon. As your mother is not here, I wish to present you the gifts of womanhood and prepare the unguent.”

My womanhood had arrived, making me jubilant. Gladly I would give up my sidelock and allow my hair to grow long. Now, as an adult, I could make my own choices.

Later that evening, when the full moon blossomed in the field of stars, Amaret wrapped a hand-embroidered blood red sheath around my plain one. Although red was the color of death, tonight it was the color of my birth as a woman. She washed my feet and massaged them with costly oils before putting on my new red sandals. For the first time my unbraided sidelock hung in long wavy strands. Tonight, no attendants shaved my head. Instead, Amaret presented me with a silver razor upon a shiny tray.

“Your responsibility as a woman is to maintain cleanliness. One of the ways we express our purity is to expel all hair from our body,” she explained without shame.

My face burned like a pot of boiling oil. Did she know about the hair that soon would cover my entire body? Would I have to reveal the humiliation that had taken root under my arms and over my nethers?

“How do we expel it?”

“Shave. I will send someone to teach you.”

“Does my Meti do this thing?”

“Yes, of course. She shaves her arms, legs, between her legs and even her eyebrows although it is not a custom, just her preference because she uses kohl liner to fill them back in.”

I felt immeasurable relief. Perhaps I wasn’t a monstrosity after all.

“I will present you to the moon, for your moon cycle is in honor of her presence.” Amaret handed me a long tapered candle. “This is our custom that all the females who love you will gather and sing to you, first a song to bid your childhood goodbye, and then a song of welcoming to embrace you into the mysteries of femininity. I must climb the stairs and prepare.”

She pulled herself up the ladder. The darkness of my sunken chamber engulfed me with sudden despair. A wave of isolation swept through my soul. Like a solitary wolf howling at the moon to mark its existence, I too would sing all by myself. There would be no one above to commune with. Amaret would enact the ritual instead of my family.

Alone. My father had gone to the southern cliffs for three fortnights of fasting and meditation. Pentu took route to the Temple of Heliopolis. Meti gave the suck of her breast to my newborn twin sisters. Meket-Aten read alone in our bedroom back in Thebes. Ankhi would be fast asleep. They would be uninformed of my coming of age. Alone. I placed my hand on the railing and hesitated. Amaret’s sad song grieved my heart.

“Come little one, it is a new day. Rise from your youthful bed,” she sang of my adolescence.

Pursing my lips, with regret I climbed the stairs, having already decided not to take pleasure in this ritual. I pulled myself from the safety of my cave, with a loud sigh, and was astonished to see hundreds of glittering candles hailed me as women lifted their voices in song and swayed to the melody.

Harmony layered upon harmony, my song echoed in a triple round. Their candles twinkled as did their eyes. The female workers welcomed me. Pink lights emitted from their hearts and warmed the frozen pain in mine. Baskets of plump red grapes and juicy pomegranates were presented with offerings of handmade necklaces of red faience beads. Casks of red wine flowed near trays piled with red safflower petals and withania berries. I understood the symbolism between the red gifts and my first blood. This wave of light parted in hushed reverence, allowing passage toward an altar positioned directly under the bursting gold moon.

Several of the women united their candles to light Amaret’s candle, which she extended to ignite my taper. “I stand before you and present Merit-Aten, beloved daughter of Per Aat Nefertiti and Pharaoh Akhenaten. She is the fruit of their loins and she has now awakened.”

The women sang, “Sweet, sweet of light, the daughter of the sun. Sweet, sweet of light, the first-born. She is the Royal Daughter. A beauty of a woman. A virgin untouched. Lovely brown are her eyes like precious wood.”

“Hail to Merit-Aten,” responded Amaret.

“Sweet, sweet the laughter and humor of the daughter of Aten. Whose mission is to bring others into the glory of Atenic light,” sang the crowd.

“Hail to Merit-Aten,” rejoiced Amaret. Then she handed me a golden goblet filled with wine. “Drink of the blood of life. Drink of the blood of the moon.”

I drank. A headiness enveloped me. Overwhelming love washed over me.

“Drink to the Deities of Love, for you have now come of age to choose a consort. Your body is ready to give birth. Hail to you, Merit-Aten, The Akh of the Sun, Shadow of her Mother,” chimed the women.

A cheer boomed at this proclamation. My head spun. Time to choose a consort and have a child of my own? My heart raced as I recalled the blond boy. The destiny Meti predicted had arrived. I would bear the heirs she craved and she wasn’t here to congratulate me. Was this the path Celestial Lords deemed in order for me to save my family?

“Extend your hands,” said Amaret.

“Why?” I whispered with great alarm. I hid them behind my back and shuddered.

“To receive your blessing. These new markings will signify your coming of age.” Amaret extended her hands, ready to accept mine. I quaked and slowly held out my hands. Then I remembered her blindness. Why worry? Amaret couldn’t see anything. I shut my eyes and prayed to Aten.
Please let the night sky mask my shame and dark-rimmed fingers.

Amaret unwrapped my sloppy bandages. I bent my fingers to hide my nails. An Aten priestess took a fine brush and painted a sacred symbol in red pigment on the back of my hands then bound them with a loose rope of red linen. I felt thankful that in the dark no one noticed my nails.

Amaret held my hands within hers and I could feel the power come through hers. Then she suddenly yanked hers away. “Merit-Aten, what have you done?”

F
or my sake, Amaret waited like a gracious hostess until our guests departed. Then she squeezed my elbow and wouldn’t let me wander far from her side. When the last villager bade me goodnight, Amaret marched me back to my underground chamber.

“What mischief have you gotten yourself into? I can feel the evil that creeps upon cat toes around you. Your energy is unstable. You had better confess to me now. By love of the Aten, I must know the truth.” She would have glowered at me if she still had her sight.

“I, uh,” I stammered. I felt deeply ashamed. “I just wanted my cat. I wanted a friend. There is no one for me to play with. The villagers do not want me to join them because of my rank. I get lonely.” My tears fell because I admitted it out loud. I’d never voiced the deep sorrow locked within my heart. I didn’t want anyone to worry about me. Everyone had so much responsibility.

“A cat? Or a demon? Tell me you did not conjure up that ghost from the underworld. Where did you learn to do this magic?” Amaret jerked me toward her. Her perspiration spiked the night air.

My eyes grew large. I couldn’t tell her about my moonstone or the deal with Sit-Amun.

“Merit-Aten, if I put my hand upon your head, I swear that I will make your memories reveal themselves to me. I warn you, child, if you have done any conjuring, I shall thrash your bottom even if you are a woman now.”

“Amaret, if I tell you please do not tell anyone. I cannot bear to hurt my father or Pentu.”

“Tell me, now so that I can take care of your mischief.”

“Back at Abydos, Sit-Amun gave me a token. She promised me the power to bring back my cat, Asgat. So I agreed to help her.”

“Help her how?”

“To get Mery-Ptah released from his imprisonment at the Aswan quarry.”