The Forgotten: Aten's Last Queen (66 page)

“What is this?” I asked, unable to hide the fear in my voice.

“The Valley, Queen,” said one of the men who bowed to me as he spoke. As he moved, I smelled something off-putting from him. Something musky and rotted. His head was shaved, his clothes were fine, and his eyes were outlined in kohl. But his smell was death.

“Why are we looking at a drawing of the kings’ resting place? How dare you have such an item in your possession? No wonder the robbers find the tombs so easily!” I snapped. I was completely revulsed by the two men.

An arm wrapped around me. I looked over and saw Mutbenret. Her brown eyes were warm and tender. I felt my entire body relax a little just being near her.

“An, listen to what they have to say. They’re here to help.”

Nahkt-min spoke up. “The drawing is so they can plan out where the tombs will be built. It is always kept in the Wabet with the Overseer of the Mysteries. Only the head builder and the overseer have laid eyes on this document.”

“Then why is it before us now if it’s such a secret?” My annoyance did not want to be pushed aside today. To see the names of those before me both frightened and angered me. There was much power behind this fragile, aged strip of papyrus that could lay so many great pharaohs to waste. My body felt the heat of anger as I thought of others whose ka might be lost to the evil hearts of robbers. I wanted to grab the sheet off the table and throw it into the fire! Such a thing cried out to be either taken advantage of or destroyed.

“We have found a place to hide your family,” the other man said. I realized now by his dress that he was the Tomb Builder from the West Bank. So that must mean the other man was the Overseer of the Embalming Temple.

“Another tomb would only draw out more evil!” I replied in a quiet tone. Could anyone hear us? My fear escalated tenfold at their words.

“Not a new tomb, but an old one. You see, there are some tombs that had extra chambers built into them, ones that were hidden for situations such as the one your family faces,” the tomb builder replied.

The priest spoke up. “This is not the first time a royal family member has been attacked in death, and it will not be the last. The tomb builders and my priesthood long ago devised a way to hide those whose ka would need to heal from attacks that have befallen them, like that of your mother’s.”

“And sister,” I replied. The priest nodded, but I could tell by his face that my sister did not rank in importance as mother did. I felt like I was bothering him with such words.

“There is one large enough to hold two coffins that we think would be perfect,” the tomb builder said.

“But someone will surely see. How can we be certain that the robbers won’t return and find their bodies again?” I asked.

“There are secret walls. We will simply remove the false stone wall, place their bodies inside, and then secure the stones back into place. It will appear as before. No person has found one of these hiding places since they were begun.”

Peace was beginning to permeate my heart. My sister and mother could rest quietly once more. The thought, if dwelled upon, was enough to make me collapse in tears of joy.

“How do you know?” I prodded.

“Because we’ve checked,” answered the priest. “In all my years and the years of the overseer before me, none of these secret doorways have been touched. We enter the tomb, check the stones, and then reseal it. Your family will be safe.”

“Shouldn’t we inform Pharaoh?”

“Queen, now is not the time to trouble him with these matters,” Nahkt-min replied. “His head is too set on war to be concerned about hidden chambers and reburials.”

Something seemed to catch fire in my heart, “Or because his own tomb is being built with one, and he cannot know this?”

I looked pointedly at the tomb builder, and after a pause, he nodded his head yes.

“How do I know that no one from
your
village will come back and plunder my family’s bodies again?” I said to the outsiders. “All we have is your word.”

“For one, their location will never be placed upon this sketch. See these slash marks? These indicate tombs with secret chambers. Two slashes means that the chamber is in use. No cartouches or identifying marks. Second, only the pair of us will live beyond the night of their relocation,” the priest answered.

More death? I felt the bile rise in my throat. “What do you mean by that?”

“What do you think we have slaves for?” the priest replied smoothly, completely unfazed.

Was this what happened when you stood over empty bodies day and night? Did you lose your compassion for the living? Did people become as disposable as a half-eaten piece of meat that the flies have taken to?

My distrust must have been evident on my face as the priest continued, “Queen, if any harm comes to them, I will lay down my head on the chopping block for you. No objections. I promise their utmost safety.”

I turned to Mutbenret. “How did you come across this plan?”

Mutbenret’s eyes misted over. “I’ve spoken with these men before because I fear one day I will have to do the same for my father.”

Her words caught me off guard. She was already planning his death. She could feel the hatred others in the palace had for him -- including me. She knew that retaliation for his deeds would one day come down upon his ka, and she would protect him as a loving, compassionate daughter would. I envied her devotion. I wished for something similar in my life, but that time had long passed between me and Akhenaten.

“How soon can this be done?” I asked the tomb builder.

“Their bodies are already resting in the Wrapping House. They are ready to be moved as early as tomorrow night,” he answered quickly.

“We thought we should bring them with us,” Nahkt-min cut in. “Here to Waset, I mean, when we returned for your daughter’s burial.”

I felt a swell of gratitude for these two, Mutbenret and Nakht-min. What wonderful, thoughtful people. This gesture could never be repaid. They thought of me when I was too saddened to look beyond my bed linens. How could they see so much beyond themselves? I was amazed at their strength. If I could be half the woman Mutbenret was, I would find my life worthy of remembering on a tomb carving… if I ever had my own.

“Thank you so much.” It was all I could say. “Tomorrow, I will meet you --”

“Queen, if you showed up, there would be many stray eyes following. I’m sorry, but we must do this alone.” The priest spoke sharply. “You also must reconcile the fact that you can never see them again. I ask this for their safety. Are you willing to do this?”

“Oh… you are right, of course. Yes. My peace will be in knowing that their souls are safe. May God bless you in your endeavors.”

“I am sure
Anubis
will.” The priest emphasized. He looked at me with judgmental eyes.

*****

I told Tia about the plan and asked her to meet the priest the next day. I wrote out a letter explaining my concerns and that she was to check the bodies before they were brought to the tombs. She would also watch the process and report back to me. I knew the priest would be angered by this, but I did not care. My slip of the tongue that the priest had pointedly corrected could have cost my family their security. The priest knew my family, knew of our past, and looked at me with reservation. “Akhenaten’s” blood, that’s what I was in his eyes. In so many people’s eyes still. If only they knew how I hated my father too. If only they knew the truth that I could never reveal.

When everyone else thought of Aten, they thought of my father and his failed city. They did not really know the Aten I did. They did not feel the grace I did. They did not see the dreams I had seen. Aten was calling me back into His presence. I could do no worse under Him than I had with the other “gods.” And something about Him made me feel peaceful.

It was then that I also made up my mind finally to visit Amyntas. Before leaving, Tia told me where his workstation was outside of the palace. But she made me promise not to leave and see him until her return. So as she left for the West Bank, I found myself with nothing to do.

Tutankhamun had not seen me since our argument in the temple. More true to the fact would be to say
his
argument. I wished I could talk to him just once, but he refused all proposals I had made to meet with him.

So I had a day to do nothing but think about all that I had done wrong.

I thought back to my dream a few nights ago. Of Horemheb’s face being a mask for Ay. Of Ay’s face that was so young and which wept at the sight of me. I had always suspected Ay behind it all, but why did I see him as a young man? Why was he sad?

Dreams could be such puzzles, and I was in no mood for puzzles today. Perhaps it would pass the time, but I found my patience was too thin for such labored distractions.

I decided to grab a few scrolls from my personal stash and sit outside in the garden reading. Some literature would probably help. Something to get my mind off my worries for a while.

The river was steadily rising, which made the air cooler. I draped a robe about my shoulders before heading outside. With me was a basket with three scrolls. I did not know what they contained, only that I hoped they would offer me an escape for the day.

The benches were free of people, but I preferred to sit down in the soft grass close to the flower patches and underneath the long reach of the trees.

The first scroll I opened was written in a modern dialect. It read as if written in one of the Southern population’s script. I decided that it was too close to my own present-day worries and tossed it aside. I wanted something old, ancient, and not from my lifetime… nor my parents’.

Looking upon the next scroll, I could see a classical language being used, one that was no longer spoken but read. This was what I wanted. The words were more carefully arranged and recorded in this type of work. It helped the imagination soar further versus reading something in words I spoke day to day by citizens visiting with complaints.

Catching the first few sentences in my eyes, I was also happy that this was not one of those propaganda pieces about the ruling class that was used as a teaching tool for students to copy from. I’d had enough of those during my school days to last a couple of lifetimes. Those types of writings were popular in the days past. But no, this was something special.

The Shipwrecked Sailor! It was not one I had read before. My excitement mounted. Just the title itself sounded exciting! I let my eyes dive in.

Once there was a wise servant and sailor who said to his lord, “Let thy heart be satisfied, O my lord, for that we have come back to the country; after we have been long off land and rowed much, the prow has at last touched land. All the people rejoice and embrace us one after another. Moreover, we have come back in good health, and not a man is lacking. Although we have been to the ends of Wawat, and gone through the land of Senmut, we have returned in peace, and our land---behold, we have come back to it. Hear me, my lord; I have no other refuge.”

His lord replied, “Thy heart continues still its wandering words, but although the mouth of a man may save him with his words, thus may it also cover his face with confusion. Will you do then as your heart moves you? This you will speak of, tell quietly.”

The sailor then answered, “Now I shall tell that which has happened to me, to my very self. I was going to the mines of Pharaoh
.

Birds above me sang. I looked up at the moment, and two doves took to their wings and sailed away. As they distanced themselves from me, I could only see one form which had molded together in perfect harmony.

I reached into my basket where some bread and cheese lay from my breakfast leftovers. I tore off some bread and read more.

“With one hundred and fifty sailors of the best of Kemet who had seen heaven and earth loaded onto our decks, whose hearts were stronger than lions, we set out. Others had foretold that the wind would not be contrary or that there would be none. But as we approached the pharaoh’s land, the wind arose, and threw up waves eight cubits high. As for me, I seized a piece of wood; but those who were in the vessel perished without one remaining. A wave threw me on an island. After that I had been three days alone without a companion beside my own heart. I laid me in a thicket, and a shadow of despair covered me
.

Taking a bite of cheese, I began to feel my own heart sinking under the shadow of the tree above me. How easily I could relate, but this was in my own house and not some exotic island.

“Suddenly I heard a noise as of thunder, which I thought to be that of a wave of the sea. The trees shook, and the earth was moved. I uncovered my face, and I saw that a serpent drew near. He was thirty cubits long, and his beard greater than two cubits; his body was as overlaid with gold, and his color was that of true lazuli. He coiled himself before me. Then he opened his mouth, while that I lay on my face before him, and he said to me, ‘What has brought you, what has brought you, little one, what has brought you? If you say not speedily what has brought you to this isle, I will make you know the worst of yourself; as a flame you shall vanish, if you tell me not something I have not heard, or which I knew not before finding you.’

The leaves above me brushed together in the breeze, and the noise made me jump. All had been quiet before. I looked to the tree trunk with a dirty glance and repositioned myself onto my belly, feet perched up and rocking in time to the wind’s rhythm. I read more.

“Then he took me in his mouth and carried me to his resting-place and laid me down without any hurt. I was whole and sound, and nothing was gone from me. Then I replied to him, and holding my arms low before him, I said to him: ‘I was embarked for the mines by the order of the majesty in a ship. One hundred and fifty cubits was its length, and the width of it forty cubits. It had one hundred and fifty sailors…

The grass was loud now, and it interrupted my imagination’s vision. Someone was approaching. I turned my head, and my heart jumped in my throat, choking me.