The Twelfth Transforming (68 page)

“Do not punish me, Great Lord!” she wept. “The queen would not let me sleep in the room with her! She sent me away!”

Ay’s terror erupted. He kicked her aside and roughly forced his way through the crowd of knife-waving women, cursing them as he went. Many of them already waved locks of Meritaten’s hair. As he neared the couch, the sweetish stench of blood rose around him, and he was dimly aware that his sandals were sticking to the floor. The women fell back, and Ay came to a halt.

Meritaten lay on her back. At first Ay thought that she had been wearing a soiled sleeping gown but a second later realized that she was covered in blood. The sheet was stained with it, the mattress still wet with it. Blood had poured over her pillow and trickled along her arm onto the floor. Ay had never seen such destruction. But at the center of it was Meritaten’s face, brown-smeared yet peaceful. Ay went closer. Half under the couch was the ivory-hilted knife she had used. He glanced at her hands. She had not sawed at her wrists. Squatting, he lifted what remained of her black hair and found the neat, deep cut just below her ear. He could not rise again without placing his hands on the mattress by her pale cheek. A sudden silence had fallen, and Ay turned to see the women slipping out, bowing, as Horemheb came in.

“You should have left a guard in here!” Ay shouted at him. “Look what they have done to her hair!”

“I was only gone a few moments,” Horemheb replied. “I brought no men with me, I was not prepared for this, there are only a handful of harem guards on duty, and I ran to make sure that no one left these quarters.” With effort he ceased speaking and drew a deep breath. “It might have been murder, you see.”

“She was my flesh!” Ay howled at him. “It is the blood of my family soaking this room! This is your doing!”

Horemheb was clearly shaken. “I did not harm her,” he protested urgently. “I had no reason.”

“You gave her reason.” Faintness blurred his vision, and he strove to re main upright. “I hope you are satisfied. She is a suicide. She cannot be beautified. Her ka is lost. She cannot even be buried. Horemheb…” Shamefully he began to cry. Horemheb had stepped to his side and taken his elbow when a movement in the doorway caused both men to look up in time to see Tutankhaten’s eyes widen and the color leave his face. Ay staggered forward. Horemheb sprang to the boy’s side, slamming the doors closed behind them, but it was too late. Tutankhaten turned to the wall and began to retch. No one dared to touch him. When he had finished, he wiped his mouth on his kilt.

“Ankhesenpaaten woke me shrieking,” he whispered. “The women who bowed to me as I came had locks of hair in their hands.” He put a shaking hand on Ay’s arm. “Uncle,” he choked, “is that why I wear my mother’s hair around my neck?” Defenseless, Ay nodded. Tutankhaten whimpered, but then, aware of the men silently watching, he controlled himself. “I have begun my reign in blood,” he said. Taking his hand from Ay’s arm, he walked unsteadily away.

Meritaten’s body was wrapped in white linen and given to the river. The priests, though sympathetic and eager to please the young god whom they depended on to restore their fortunes, did not dare to bury her. Ay, standing on the bank with the little group that had gathered to cast flowers after the weighted form, knew that he would never forgive Horemheb, or himself. For in spite of the words he had hurled at the commander out of his own shock and anguish as he stood by Meritaten’s couch, he knew he must share the responsibility for her death. He had wanted Smenkhara removed in such a way that his principles might remain uncompromised. Coward that he was, he had not been able to put his wishes into practice but had been secretly relieved when Horemheb shouldered the risks he himself was unwilling to face. He had somehow imagined a future free of complications once Smenkhara was gone. The true consequence of Horemheb’s act horrified him, and he began to wonder, as he watched Ankhesenpaaten place a comforting arm around Tutankhaten’s shoulders and Horemheb step to the river’s brink to add his tribute to the others, what further unforeseen events might have been set in motion by the murder in which he was implicated by his desire to be rid of his nephew. He hated the commander for the havoc that had been wrought within the family and for making him confront his guilt, but he also feared the cold place in Horemheb that had enabled him to execute such deeds.
Having escaped retribution
, Ay thought,
will Horemheb grow more confident that he is above the law?
He could hardly bear to be in the man’s presence, and as soon as Tutankhaten turned toward the sanctuary of his state barge, Ay fled them all.

At the end of Mesore the court sailed north to Memphis, and on New Year’s Day Tutankhaten was crowned king in Egypt with full and ancient ceremony. On Ay’s advice he took to himself every traditional pharaonic title—Mighty Bull, the Horus of Gold, Beautiful God, Lord of the Two Lands—and though he had spent no time as high priest in the temple of Ptah, as every heir before him had done, he made his devotions to the creator of the world with exemplary reverence. He did not, however, travel to On. “Later you may worship in the city of Ra,” Ay had told him, “but not yet. It is too soon to be seen in the temples of the sun.” Tutankhaten did not argue. He was content to enjoy the adoration of priests and people and to preside over the traditional gift giving and feasts.

Nor did he object when, several weeks after the coronation, Ay had a marriage contract drawn up between the young pharaoh and Ankhesenpaaten. The court considered her a good choice: She was popular, kind, and beautiful, and had already proved that she could bear children. From Ay’s point of view her attraction lay in the fact that she loved him and would do whatever he asked.
Now there will be no one in any position of power
, Ay thought with relief,
able to be manipulated by Horemheb. If indeed he does dream of taking the crown for himself, it cannot now be through the aid of high officials. Only another act of violence would bring it within his grasp, and I do not believe his ambition is so great that he would once again risk his complete undoing
.

With the shadow of the drought still dark in Egyptian minds, all waited anxiously for the Inundation, and there were great celebrations when Isis began to cry at the end of Paophi. But Ay was hardly aware of the beginning of a new season. Since the court’s return to Akhetaten from Memphis, he had been busy formulating a policy that would gradually return Egypt to its full glory. Day by day his servants brought him reports on the state of affairs at Karnak, the waning crowds gathering to worship in the Aten temple, the ebb and flow of gold in the Treasury, and he conferred long into each night with representatives from the nomes, who brought to him the hopes of the common people. He oversaw the marriage of Tutankhaten and Ankhesenpaaten, and was delighted when he saw them take pleasure in each other’s company. He knew he must be very sure of the direction he wished Pharaoh to take, and not until he had tested every argument possible against his proposals did he request a formal audience with Tutankhaten, asking Pharaoh if Horemheb could be present also.

On a sparkling winter morning he lay before the king to kiss the royal feet and press his lips against Ankhesenpaaten’s smooth skin. Horemheb, carefully painted and arrayed in yellow linen, was already there, standing with arms folded in the midst of his attendants and some of his officers. The reception hall was crowded with ministers, nobles, and Pharaoh’s young friends. At a word from Tutankhaten, Ay rose. Smiling, the boy indicated a chair at the foot of the throne steps. “You may sit, Uncle,” he said. “You, also, Commander. I believe that today I am to be told what to do.”

“No, Precious Egg,” Ay countered swiftly, meeting his enquiring glance with alarm at the boy’s perception. “No man would dare to tell the incarnation what to do. Yet my heart is heavy on behalf of Egypt, and I beg Your Majesty to look kindly on my suggestions.”

Horemheb had remained standing, but Ay did not bother to protest. The commander would need every advantage today. Tutankhaten nodded for him to continue. “As Your Majesty doubtless knows, the gulf between the Divinity and the people has never been wider. Your predecessor not only removed himself from Amun’s holy city, but he then proceeded to take from his people their gods, their livelihood, and their empire. It is your privilege to restore to them what your father removed.” Tutankhaten was listening politely, but Ankhesenpaaten frowned. “Your Majesty has few competent ministers on whom to call,” Ay went on carefully. “And I would first point out that the Treasury is depleted. It is impossible at present to do everything I know Your Majesty desires to accomplish.” Horemheb had begun to smile, and Ay knew that he had seen the direction his words were taking. “Therefore Your Majesty must decide what tasks are most urgent.” He glanced briefly at Horemheb. “The commander will tell you that it is imperative to regain our empire immediately. Truly, it is the shame of every Egyptian that the world no longer bows to us. But such a move would not please your subjects. They would see their young men march away while their village shrines remained a haven for owls and jackals. War would increase their sufferings.”

Tutankhaten held up a hand. “Is this indeed what you would propose, Commander?”

Horemheb nodded. “What your uncle says is true, Majesty. I believe that only by regaining the empire can the Treasury be filled and Egypt prosper again. The first, the most important task before you is the occupation of northern Syria, Rethennu, Amki, and Amurru. The princes of those people now pay allegiance to Suppiluliumas. At any moment the Khatti could invade us, and we would be defeated.”

“Majesty, if Suppiluliumas were planning to invade Egypt, I think he would have attempted it by now,” Ay cut in quickly. “But Egypt is a long way from Khatti, and Suppiluliumas’s own empire is already very extended. I think he does not invade because he knows that as yet he could not hold us. We have time for other things first, things that are more important. If Your Majesty makes war, your gold cannot go into healing Egypt.”

“Then what do you suggest?” The clear eyes were regarding him intently.

Ay met their gaze without hesitation. “First, repair Karnak and give Maya the authority to appoint new priests. Let the people see that once again the god who brought prosperity to Egypt is being honored. Then send your architects throughout the country to restore the village shrines. Let the palace at Malkatta be restored, and move back to Thebes.”

“But, Ay,” Ankhesenpaaten interjected hesitantly, “my father taught us that there was only one god, the Aten Disk. If we forsake that god, we will be punished.”

“Dear Majesty,” Ay said gently, looking into the earnest young face, “I do not propose that the worship of the Aten be proscribed or its temples closed. Those who wish should be allowed to continue to bring offerings. But the common people have never understood the purity of the Aten and do not feel safe without the protection of the ancient gods. It is time for your husband to be seen as Amun in the land.”

“And who will pay for all this running about on behalf of the gods?” Horemheb broke in hotly. “You have said yourself that the Treasury is empty. Such a policy will require a great deal of time. A war to regain the empire will be a quick undertaking, and one with the immediate compensation of booty and tribute!”

“Providing we were victorious,” Ay said dryly. For a second their eyes met. Ay knew that Horemheb still suffered from the shame of Egypt’s defeat at the hands of the Khatti, and desired to restore his dignity. “If not, the people’s hardships would be increased, and any chance to regain our subject lands would be forfeited forever. Egypt would be a Khatti vassal. Do you want to take that risk?”

“Attend!” Tutankhaten snapped, and they both fell silent and turned to him, having almost forgotten his presence. “The commander has a point, Uncle. Restoring the power of the gods will demand time, but also much gold. From where will the riches come?”

“Out of the coffers of your nobles and princes,” Ay replied. He was forced to raise his voice above the indignant murmur that now broke out in the hall. “Your father seized Amun’s land in the Delta, his cattle and slaves, to pay for offerings to the Aten. Some was given to those who served the Disk well.” He was on shaky ground, not wanting to accuse Akhenaten of paying for friendship before his son. “I propose, Majesty, that you return to Amun his land in the Delta, and enough cattle from the estates of the nobles for the god’s servants to start new herds. Give them seed to sow, and take Amun’s vineyards away from those who have lately acquired them. In this way Maya and his priests can effect their own recovery.”

“And I suppose you want to restore the god’s Treasury, also?” Horemheb sneered.

“Partly, yes. The full amount was incalculable, and much of it was used to build this city, but I ask Pharaoh to empty part of the Aten’s coffers on behalf of Amun. The priests of the Disk can live directly on the offerings of the faithful. But your restorations should not only involve Amun.” He turned to Tutankhaten and a white-faced Ankhesenpaaten. “The plots of land belonging to the local gods were ceded to your father’s ministers, Horus. If you return them, you will have earned the love of all your subjects.” He stood now and faced the sullen courtiers. “All of you! You know this must be done. You are Egypt’s richest men and women, the sons and daughters of Osiris Akhenaten’s ministers. If you think to side with Horemheb and thus keep your wealth, you are mistaken. He will take it for his wars. Give to the god who has never failed his people, and in the end you will prosper.” Their expressions did not alter, but the muttering died away. He lowered his voice so that only Horemheb and the royal couple could hear. “Commander, you abandoned the empress, Pharaoh’s mother, to come to Akhetaten because Osiris Akhenaten gave you the Nubian gold monopoly that had been Amun’s. If you return it to Maya’s hands, you will hasten the recovery by many months.”

“You goatish old hypocrite,” Horemheb hissed back. “I was not the only prince who changed face. You also deserted her, your own sister. The Nubian gold was not my only reason for standing beside the Aten’s incarnation!”