The Forgotten: Aten's Last Queen (11 page)

He walked out of the room and slammed the door behind him. I hid from his gaze, but he caught Merytaten still on her knees, arms outstretched, and praying.

“I have received word from Queen Mother that she will be arriving here shortly with my sister’s son. He will be co-regent with me. You will marry him and, by Aten, you will give him sons.”

“But you have a son, Tutankhaten. He will make a good heir for you, Father. I have no desire to take his place. It will be as you wish. A son of yours will rule.”

Father leaned down and looked fiercely into Merytaten’s eyes. He grabbed her dress top with his fist, which drew her eyes to him and away from Aten. His voice crackled like a flame, “Maybe you should take a good look at your brother. He can never be ruler.”

With that, my father left. Merytaten collapsed on the ground like her strength had been sucked out by Pharaoh’s hand. I ran over to her and wrapped my body over hers. I felt her shivering from grief.

“What does it mean?” I asked.

Merytaten sat up quickly and pushed me away. Her face was also stained with kohl. “I told you his name was cursed! Look what you have done! Why did you have to ask about him? Why didn’t you stop?” Then she got up and ran as far away from me as she could get.

I did not know what to do. How could a name hold such power? Surely Aten was greater than that.

Could this be my fault?

I walked into the birth chamber. The first thing I saw was the afterbirth on the floor like an animal mangled by jackals lusting for blood. Everyone was weeping. My mother was looking down at the still baby and stroking his cheek, singing to him as she would to us when we could not sleep.

Next to her was a bowl and cloth for keeping her forehead cool. I picked up the cloth, squeezed out the extra water, and began to clean Mother’s face. She did not look at me or stop her song. It was all I could think to do. So I stayed with Mother and cleaned her face, her arms, her legs, the blood on her body, and her feet. I had the servants gather clean water as it was needed. All the while she continued to sing. When I dropped the cloth into the bowl for the last time, Mother reached out and touched my arm.

“An, this is not your fault.”

Letting the emotions take hold, I fell onto her breast and cried. When I found the strength to get up again, my mother held out the baby to me. I had never held something so small before, but I took him in my arms and looked down at the baby that would never wake in this world. His face was not as blue as I had first thought, and his eyes were not so sunken. I stopped and just looked.

“He’s beautiful.”

“He is. Would you like to help me honor him?”

I looked up at her in surprise.

“My child will not be tossed into the Nile to be fed to crocodiles. He is a prince of Kemet, and I will show him that respect,” she said with a purpose. “I pray that he waits for me in the Afterlife, because I cannot wait to meet him.”

Just then, a new voice struck our ears. “What have you done?”

I turned to see Ay. His face was filled with revulsion.

Mother’s response came out in a thin, high voice as a child’s would sound. “Father, he is dead.”

But Ay had no comfort in his tone, “All of your daughters lived. Why not this child? Why? Do you know what this means?”

“It means that my son is with Osiris,” Mother replied, her voice sounding more as it would at state functions, emotionless and even.

“Shhh! Do you want to provoke Pharaoh’s wrath further?”

Mother threw back her head and laughed. “Oh Father, don’t you see? Hathor has done this. The Gods did this. Yes, Gods. Let them return to us. Forgive us, Amun!”

Ay swiftly moved toward her, but I stepped into his path. He would not touch Mother the way Pharaoh had. Ay looked down at me first with anger and then with amusement.

“I will keep Pharaoh away while you bury your son. I will make sure he does not know. But you must make amends with him, or it could be both of our heads,” he said. He then swooped out of the room, his robe rippling out behind him like vulture’s wings.

And so we made our plans in secret and buried the little prince in the sands outside of the boundary stellae. It was just me, Tia, and a few attendants of my mother’s. She had with her a piece of limestone and had crafted his name into it with red ink. She placed it over his chest and wrapped it inside his shroud so Osiris would know his name, as the baby would not. Before covering his fingers, she wrapped her golden lotus blossom necklace around the tiny wrist and hand. When she had finished, Mother leaned down and whispered in his ear, “May Isis protect you until I come to hold you in my arms again.”

She finished wrapping the rest of his flesh in strips of linen. As she knelt there, she covered him with prayers and with the red lands. There would be no golden sarcophagus to protect his body from the beasts that prowled the nights. His house was built out of grains of sands. All we could do was pray for his safe arrival into the Afterlife.

We stayed there until the Aten could no longer be seen in the sky. It was her muscled, dark-skinned guard familiar, Wahankh, who finally picked up Mother delicately and led her back to the palace with his arms around her. His eyes were full of concern as a friend would have for another.

When we returned, we found out that Father had gone into his private house and had locked himself in. He did not come out for days. We feared his return.

In my room, I could not sleep. I thought of the brother I would never know. It pained me as a sister; I wondered how a mother could handle the loss of her child. I prayed for my mother’s healing. I prayed that I would never know such sorrow.

Mother had named my brother Mery-adjo, beloved treasure.

*****

Ay reported that the baby was thrown into the river, and Pharaoh believed it. He did not ask for proof, probably not even caring about the baby’s fate.

My mother made no more appearances with Pharaoh. She stayed home and was in the company of her father most days. I had never seen them together before as a father and daughter as both of them were usually busy helping Pharaoh in opposite directions. Now they were outcasts, hidden away from the crowds and no longer spoken of. One could only hope this was temporary.

Sometimes I would sneak out to see Mother and Grandfather together, consoling one another. I was not used to that type of relationship with my father. I rarely saw him, and he never looked my way even while sitting at the same banquet table. It seemed sweet, this bond I was now observing. Was this what other kids had? I wanted to take in more of it, its tenderness warming my heart. I also felt sour jealousy as I watched Mother and Ay. I longed for my father to put his arm around me, smile, praise my works. I wanted to belong to someone.

Perhaps it was this jealousy that spoiled it all. One day, while I hid behind the bushes and watched them interact, I realized it was not what it appeared to be from afar. I had never found a hidden spot this close before. Though their voices were soft, their words were sharpened bows being continually released.

Ay’s voice was accusational, “My sister will try to have you thrown out. Why could you not give Pharaoh a son?”

“It was not my choice. And why can’t we return to the Gods? This is not working. The people have asked me about this. They are turning away from Aten. There will be an uprising if Pharaoh does not start listening to us.”

“Then you need to prove them wrong! A healthy son is needed.”

“And how am I supposed to do that? It takes two people to produce a son. Pharaoh has planted daughters in Kiya and me. Perhaps Pharaoh does not want a son as badly as he lets on. Or has your sister cast a spell over us, taking away the seeds of sons? She is vengeful and selfish.”

“Do not speak of my sister that way. You erased her daughter. Of course she’s going to come after you.”

“Her daughter was infected with evil; I could not let the demons loose!”

“What does that make her son then, Pharaoh’s heir apparent? Is he a demon made flesh?”

“I think you have seen what that means. Even the boy could not escape the sorrow that took Henuttaneb’s life. It was not what I wanted, but it had to be done for the good of our people. Those choices need to be made!”

“You neglected my sister when you made that choice. She is very powerful.”

“And she should know that many people’s lives outweigh her youngest daughter’s. Perhaps she was too busy in her pleasure boat to care about her citizens, but I am not that way! I saved the women in this house!”

Ay stood. “There is nothing more I can do for you. My life was spared so I could help Pharaoh. If it means turning my back on you, then I think that for the good of the people, I will have to. Watch your step, because they cannot be erased like those footprints in the sands you made a few days ago. No longer will I be able to cover them up.”

Mother stood and faced her father, her chin raised. “I also fight for my people. The Gods are with me. Yours left you with the Hebrews!”

“His power is greater than you can imagine. You saw it! How can you doubt it?”

My mother let out a sad sigh. “I don’t, but we are doing something wrong. He is not listening to us anymore. Maybe you should have drained the water from your ears a little more the day He spared your life. You did not hear Him correctly, or all of this would not be happening! He has left us, and now we must accept it and try to do right by our people.” She walked away leaving Ay trembling with anger.

Next to me something dropped. I turned towards the rustling. With a thin intake of breath, I suppressed all movement, even my heart’s beating, when I saw that it was an asp curled up beside me. Death had dropped down from a tree branch. His tongue licked the air as he looked over at me. His scales were so black that the night itself paled in its darkness. It appeared as if his body was forming a deep hole in the ground opening the depths of Duat to me. Death was marking its territory.

It lurked so close to me that I could feel something deeply sinister vibrating in the air. I began to tremble as the snake again tasted the air in front of me. I could feel the sweat along my brow began to slink down my face and into my eyes. I dared not blink, though.

I heard footsteps from the garden area as Ay departed. The snake, in turn, twisted its snout from me and slithered beneath a bush. When it was out of sight and all was quiet around me, I ran as fast as I could to my room. I had never felt so scared in all my life, and after all I had heard, I did not even know whom I should pray to anymore.

A Land Against Which None Can Rebel
1322 B.C
.

We met in the belly of the night. Tia and I had stolen ourselves a raft and rowed silently upriver for our appointment. As we pulled up to the bank, both of us jumped off and pulled the light raft ashore enough so it would not catch a wave and leave us stranded.

The water was low this time of year as the farmers harvested the lands. We had traveled to a small island that emerged every low season. There were papyrus trees and plants enough to cover our meeting from the banks we had just departed from.

We walked along a narrow path between the thin boughs and emerged in front of three men and their horses. They had tall, black steeds which were dripping wet. The men must have ridden their animals through the water’s shallower depths. I had heard of it done before, but horses were not abundant in Kemet and so were not a part of my daily life. Not since Akhenaten…

The men were wild looking, their hair and beards clumped up and filled with dirt. I wondered if this was how all Hittites appeared or it if was from the fierce crossing through the Red Lands. Scorched by Aten relentlessly during the day’s travels, I could only imagine how such intense travel affected men. I had never gone beyond the Nile’s shores as my husband had. I had never left the safe, secure Black Lands.

There were so few here tonight. I figured that surely a company traveling with a prince would have an army with him, and no army could have passed our borders without my knowledge. This morning, a messenger arrived for me with notice that King Suppiluliuma’s chamberlain wished to speak with me. I had feared my request would go unanswered, and I would be left to the mercy of power-hungry men. Men I had grown up with and once thought that I could trust. Men who lusted for the pharaoh’s throne and not his well-being. No… That was not true. I had never trusted Ay. But Horemheb? His betrayal saddened me as Tutankhamun had had such a strong bond with him.

The Hittites bowed to me. I took that as my cue to begin.

“Noblemen of King Suppiluliuma, thank you for your speedy arrival though I fail to see my husband-to-be in your entourage.”

The man standing in the middle stood and looked me straight in the eye. He looked overly confident about something. He pulled out a papyrus that was browned, withered, and cracked. He spoke easily in Khemtu, “King Amenhotep III made it clear to my people and to all peoples outside your borders that for a king, the gift of women in marriage was for Kemet alone. It was a one-way trade. He wrote to my king, from which I will read to you now, ‘From time immemorial no daughter of the king of Kemet is given to anyone.’ My great and wise highness, Suppiluliuma, is therefore surprised and suspicious of this offer you present to him. He proclaims that such a thing has never happened in his entire lifetime. How can he believe such a proposal when your own flesh and blood has earlier proclaimed such a union is forbidden? He fears a trick of you and your people.”

I took in a slow breath. There was so much I wanted to say. I was angry, confused, frustrated, and hopeless all in one blink of a moment. But mostly I was scared as these men could do anything to me under the blanket of the night, and no one would be the wiser. They could kill me and plunge our lands into chaos. Perhaps that was their plan all along, rid themselves of the Kemet threat by eliminating its last royal bloodline. I could tell by this man’s tone that he felt his people didn’t need me. I felt so stupid. Desperation had led me into danger I should have been more prepared for.