The Forgotten: Aten's Last Queen (46 page)

BOOK: The Forgotten: Aten's Last Queen
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Here was someone who saw me at my worst and still wanted to stand next to me… in front of the world. I pushed everything else from my mind but him.

There was much activity on the shoreline during the first stop the gods would make on this celebratory voyage. Priests from the temples of other gods were shaking sistras and carrying incense. They led a parade of civilians to where the gods were being anchored. There was a line of merchants that the people had to break through to get to the waterline.

One by one, any person could ask the gods questions, but the answer could only be a yes or no. The gods could not speak their answers, their voices too pure and powerful for mortal ears.

This festival had not taken place in many long years, and the line quickly took shape as people were drunk with excitement to ask their questions. It was an overwhelming joy as deep as the Nile itself. Citizens were surrounded by male and female dancers, singers, and musicians. Many families were gathered, clapping hands and whirling about with their children to the music. As I watched the people, I could see their bodies looked fuller, their eyes were brighter, and their smiles freely given.

The priests took positions at the water’s edge. Eyes turned towards us. The musicians hit their instruments a final time, and all was quiet. It was time for the beginning of it all.

Tutankhamun motioned me forward indicating that I would be the first. I stepped away and laced my fingers together, held them to my chest, and walked as far to the front of our flat boat as I dared.

The sky was bright and clear. Birds lazily swooped overhead. The water was like a crackling fire burning up the sunlight as the two elements touched. There was a gentle rocking beneath my feet as the waves cradled our boat.

I had so many questions I had toyed with in my mind. It was hard finally to decide. I had thought I knew what I would ask, but standing here, I was second-guessing myself. Then something made my heart stop as the thought whispered itself in my ear, prompted by the gentle rocking of the river.

“Powerful gods who have come forth from your temples, tell me. Will I bear my husband a son?”

Silence.

The waves lapped against the sides of our boat.

Restless…

I thought everyone on the shore would be able to hear the beating in my chest. It filled my ears. I could even feel its violent pounding in my fingertips.

Ever so slowly, the barque of Mut tipped forward.

Cheers and clapping filled the air. It would be so! I would bear a son! The god had confirmed my deepest desire! She had nodded yes!

I covered my face with my hands as the happy tears flowed. Perhaps my husband would never need a harem then. Perhaps I would be the one and only. And I would remain faithful to him. There would never be another in my life.

Tutankhamun came up to me and wrapped me up in a hug. We both began laughing as the musicians filled the air with joyful song. The people chanted our names.

As we parted, I looked up at him. He was now taller than I. His eyes were focused on me. They spoke of pride, compassion, and hope. Then he leaned over and kissed me. It was a short, sweet kiss, but the crowds whooped and hollered at us. We broke apart simultaneously as we again started laughing. I stepped aside and let Tutankhamun take his turn.

We had shared our first kiss.

Tutankhamun stood straighter than before. He gazed out as his people first and raised his hands. Their music stopped. He turned to the gods, hands still raised before him.

His voice was strong. “Great and mighty gods, we give you thanks today and always for your blessings. I ask you. In a thousand years, no,
two
thousand years from now, a time span even older than the pyramids, will the people still speak my name? Will they know the name Pharaoh Tutankhamun?”

The people inland did not wait for the answer. They began to clap and sing to him, praise him. They stomped their feet and shook their sistras with vigor. Even I began clapping with them and shouting his name. They stomped and chanted, “Yes, yes!”

After much clatter, as one, the three gods dipped forward.

A roar erupted from the people, all of them cheering and yelling and screaming out for him. I never knew so great a distance could be spanned with a noise that could still pierce the ears. It was as if the people were possessed with madness. They jumped and danced and bowed down on the ground before us. Even the waters vibrated with their hysterical praises for him. They rushed into the waters and sang as loud as they could for him. Guards jumped from our boat into the waters and surrounded us, but the people stayed near the banks.

Slowly, they began trickling back into a line so they could pose their questions to the gods. Other people went and filled their cups to the brim with beer. So far the gods had given two yeses. Everyone else was eager for their turn. They wondered who would be the first that the gods would lean backward for, their response being no.

Tutankhamun and I moved underneath the canopy and watched them sing and dance. I had never had such fun at a celebration before. We had shared this with our subjects, and they had returned to us love. I was filled with such happiness that I could not break my lips out of their smiling.

Why had we not had celebrations like this for Aten? As we now sat hidden from His view and mesmerized by the praise of others, I finally felt like a queen! It was as if our return from Akhenaten had shifted the world’s view of us, and we were now in its radiant favor.

“I will remember this day always,” Tutankhamun said with a satisfied grin on his face.

“I doubt even the gods could forget it, Meret!” I responded.

Gently, he leaned over and kissed me again. For this kiss, all time around us seemed to stand still.

 

The Good God, Nebkheprure, Given Life Forever
1322 B.C
.

Funeral Procession of Pharaoh Tutankhamun

The procession was led by Tutankhamun’s image. He was represented in the form of Anubis. Mounted on a palanquin, the jackal’s body was carried at the front of our line. Sleek black with gold and silver inlays, the figure sat upright on a gilded wooden chest. Around his neck rested a floral garland, and he had an inscribed linen draped over his wooden back. As we entered The Road Where Ra Sets, I could see his sharp, pointed ears bobbing along the dirt path as if piercing the sky before us, breaking apart the clouds, and showing Aten the last of my husband’s time on the sands.

I walked beside the royal coffin. Mutbenret held my left hand. Women walked behind me screaming and crying, a custom for royal funerals. I knew they had done this before and would one day do it again. Their wails were dull to my ears. Walking ahead were priests burning their incense and shaking their sistras. Twelve men, dignitaries and viziers, pulled my husband’s sled on either side of the bulls. White sashes of mourning were tied across their foreheads. They were chanting, “O Nebkheprure, come in peace, O god protector of the earth!”

There were rich and poor gathered, eastern and western residents, all standing as one. At one time, I could never have imagined that so many people could live in one city. But their enormous surrounding presence would soon fade away. Their footprints were being blown over by the dust of the earth. My own marching feet kicked away everything that came before. Everything was a fading away.

The air was so engorged with heat that it was thick and wet to pass through. It felt as if I walked the Nile’s depths with the faces of my people making up waves that crashed over me. My vision blurred for a moment.

As I shook my head, my eyes caught a group of tomb craftsmen. I remembered seeing them working in my husband’s final place of rest. They had carved Ay’s image into the wall. They looked neither sad nor happy. They were just there watching. I knew Pharaoh’s death had brought much excitement for them. From it, they not only had to finish one tomb but would have the chance to begin another for the next pharaoh. While building a tomb for a healthy pharaoh could drag on for years and require fewer and fewer workers, a pharaoh’s death gave men countless jobs as they were rushed to put the finishing touches on his tomb. They also had to make multiple funeral furnishings which would accompany Tutankhamun to his dwelling in the West. Meanwhile, plans were eagerly being drawn up for the next pharaoh’s place of rest. It was sad to think that my husband’s death actually benefited so many necropolis workers.

Maybe this was the way of things. One man can benefit many people both in life and in death. Nothing was meaningless. Nothing was wasted. His death provided jobs that couldn’t be given in life. Only in death could some lives be saved.

Was that the purpose of death? So that others would live? By his death, other men were given jobs, foods, provisions for their families who otherwise might starve. Would
my
death give life to others as well? But if that thought was true, then why did my daughters have to die? They provided none of this, only a tease at true happiness and the loss of a love so tender and pure that all other love died with it, with them.

There were so many stories about the gods and the Afterlife, yet were they even true? Was there another life after this one? If our stories were half-truths, as Moshe had said in my dream, then what half was true? He had said we were not here to serve the gods, we were here simply to live and were created out of love. On this day, though, I no longer cared for it. There were so many questions, so many mysteries, it seemed overwhelming. I was burying one husband and going home with another. My life from this day on was a frightening mess. I could not imagine seeing Amyntas again, not after our last encounter with Ay and Horemheb.

Horemheb… I had not thought about his role in this. Ay admitted he had not killed Tutankhamun, so that would leave only Horemheb. He had been with my king that day. He had been helping Ay these past three moons. Even if Ay had not ordered the king killed, Horemheb could have done so. Perhaps he was angling for the throne as well. How long would Ay live before Horemheb could snatch the crown next? Now another possibility opened up for my life, and it was bleaker than before. Again, I was a handoff, something to solidify claims, and nothing more than a piece to be played.

I had once had love, and now he lay before me. I had taken it for granted, ran to another, and now the gift I
had
been given was lost to me. I felt hollow and dry, all love withered away from me.

I looked down on Tutankhamun’s image. The tears fell rapidly from my eyes, but my heart calmed as I looked upon his face. At least I still had him for a few moments more. I would not let this space between life and death go so easily. I would hold onto him while I still had the time given to me.

We were approaching the tomb entrance. It was not that far within the Majestic Necropolis of Our Pharaohs. I rested my hand upon Tutankhamun’s golden cheek. It was hot from Aten’s rays, the God I could mention in my heart but not from my lips. I did not care though. The heat reminded me that He was there. He still watched over us even if we did not look up to Him. As I echoed his name inside of me, I did not feel so alone.

This would be my last touch, my last time with Tutankhamun until my own imminent death. If Horemheb had me in his sights for
his
claim to the throne, then that time would be farther off than I had thought.

I looked up ahead to the shape of Anubis, the master of balance and the judge of the dead. I imagined those eyes of obsidian reflecting deeply into the gods’ world. Something inside me knew there was life beyond this one; s
omeone
could see all that boiled in this world around me. Maybe I could not make out what lay next on my path, but the judge of all knew. One day, my husband’s death would be made right. One day, this would all make sense.

One day, I would find peace.

One day, all this suffering would be chiseled out of my memories.

If there was an Anubis, he would blow the remaining earthly dust from my heart, and all would be made pure again.

Chapter Five

The Sound of Those Who Rejoice

1325 B.C. – Sixth year of Tutankhamun’s reign

The good god, son of Amun, son of Kamutef, the good son, the holy egg whom Amun created, father of the Two Lands, the one who makes the one who made him, all the ba of Heliopolis united in order to form him, to be king forever and ever, as Horus, living immortally. He is the effective king who did what was good for his father and all the gods. He restored everything that was ruined, to be his monument forever and ever. He has vanquished chaos from the whole land and has restored Ma’at to her place. He has made lying a crime, the whole land being made as it was at the time of creation.

Now when his majesty was crowned king the temples, the estates of the gods and goddesses from Elephantine as far as the swamps of Lower Kemet had fallen into ruin. Their shrines had fallen down, turned into piles of rubble and were overgrown with weeds. Their sanctuaries were as if they had never existed at all. Their temples had become footpaths. The world was in chaos, and the gods had turned their backs on this land. If an army was sent to Djahy to extend the boundaries of Kemet, it would have no success. If you asked a god for advice, he would not attend; and if one spoke to a goddess, likewise she would not attend. Hearts were faint in bodies because everything that had been was destroyed
.

Now when some days had passed, his majesty appeared on the throne of his father, Amun. He ruled the Banks of Horus. The Black Land and the Red Land were under his rule. Every land bowed before his might. But his majesty was in the palace which was in the domain of Akheperkare like Ra in the sky. His majesty made plans for this land and the daily needs
.

Now the gods and goddesses of this land are rejoicing in their hearts, the lords of the temples are in joy, the provinces all rejoice and celebrate throughout this whole land because good has come back into existence. The Ennead in the temple, their arms are raised in adoration, their hands are filled with jubilees forever and ever. All life and might is with them, and it is for those of the mighty king, Horus, repeater of births, beloved son of his father, Amun, lord of the gods, who made the one who made him, the king of Upper and Lower Kemet, his eldest son, the true and beloved one who protects his father who begat him. His kingship is that of his father Osiris, son of Ra, the son who is good to the one who begat him, plentiful in monuments, rich in wonders, the one who makes an accurate monument for his father Amun, fair of births, the king who has established Kemet
.

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