Ten royal soldiers in total marched around us as we passed between shops on the ground level of two- or three-story family homes. Armed with the traditional spear and rawhide shield, the guards wore padded caps. A few carried curved swords at their waists, while a bow and arrows were strapped to the backs of two.
The bow had fascinated me ever since I had watched a soldier release an arrow years ago. An ability to propel a small spear through the air with greater speed, distance, and accuracy than a thrown weapon must be magic. Father said God gave us the bow, and that it was one of two reasons for our victories over the lands of chaos surrounding ordered Egypt and its river of life. He described barbarian hordes and pirates to the north and Nubians to the south, as well as inhuman monsters, the Dark Ones, lurking amongst the shadows. Arcing bolts had torn into fake enemies as we watched. I asked about the second reason he had mentioned. He said the horse and chariot revolutionized war, especially when utilizing a mounted archer. Desire to draw the string and fire, to taste magic, had filled my waking dreams—
Shouting from a man with a dark beard erupted as he bartered over a loaf of bread. But he stopped and stared at us. The hearty aroma of fired grain mingled with dust, clay, and freshly shaven timber. A short, plump man stopped writing on a small palette in mid-stroke. Those working pottery, stone, wood, and jewelry fell quiet, watching Akhenaten. Pulling back my slouching shoulders, we tramped on.
A bald, thin man in a white sash and kilt emerged from a shop.
“Please, magician, don’t!” A woman burst out behind him. “Son of Hapu—” she said, but froze when she saw us. The man’s head swung around. Black eye paint traced the trenches of deep wrinkles running across his face, accentuating the tangled pattern of a spider’s web.
Gasping in shock, my blood turned cold. I stood entranced by the streaks running through his face. Never before had I seen a magician, but tales ran in whispers around many a dinner table. Both respected and feared, these men commanded an ability to control the world in ways others could only imagine. People begged for their aid only when need grew greater than their distrust. Fortunately, under the prosperous reign of Amenhotep III such services were rarely sought.
A stark white cat leapt onto his shoulder and perched. Appearing twice the size of Croc, rolls of fat billowed from its belly as it eyed Akhenaten. As if in slow motion, sound faded. The cat twitched, its crystal eyes fixating on mine. Stumbling, I nearly fell. A soldier grabbed and shoved me back up as we passed, my head careening around.
The magician waited, his face grimacing. Pulling something from a small sack, he concealed the item inside his hand and traced symbols in the air. What was he—
A clap rang out to our right. Spinning, a stack of pottery toppled toward us. I jumped aside and tripped, falling. Pieces shattered as they collided with the street while others rolled in tightening circles.
The guards, with weapons raised, glanced about.
“Get this out of my path!” Akhenaten said.
The captain reached down, not for a broken drinking vessel, but his own bow had fallen onto the street along with his arrows. The arrows lay spread out in a flat semicircle, evenly spaced and all pointing at Akhenaten’s feet as if to suggest he turn around.
Kicking the bolts aside, my master’s face reddened as he scanned the crowd. A horde of people stood in the street, but the magician was gone. Dread rose inside me along with a shudder. How could someone control objects in such a way? Or was it just sleight-of-hand, a magic trick?
“Go!” Akhenaten said, snarling at the onlookers. Striding forward, his captain gathered the fallen weapons.
Mud-brick buildings and dirt streets opened up to a magnificent view. The shimmering waters of the Nile emerged, halting my breath as I soaked in their beauty. Early sunlight sparkled across the surface of soft waves and ripples, the Aten’s rays dancing and blurring my vision. A fresh scent wafted into my nostrils, and a softness hung in the air. As a child the river was my favorite place, but lately servitude had me standing ever-patient at Akhenaten’s side.
The blue belt of water stretched impossibly wide across the desert, but the soldiers muttered about the river being at its most shallow this time of year. The annual inundation, the life-giving flood of our land, was about to begin. This trip’s timing was premeditated.
Skiffs composed of bundled reeds and small sailing ships littered the port or glided across the water. Boxes of cargo were hauled in or out of Memphis. What strange wonders lay hidden inside those crates?
Pushing me forward, the tall captain pointed to a spectacular barge and said, “Over there.” A pure white sail rippled at its attachment to the central mast. Fashioned solely of wood, the vessel clashed against the other ships. The bow curled up and outward, carved into the shape of a sphinx with a human head.
Struck with wonder, my breaths came quick and shallow as we climbed aboard. Hollow echoes sounded beneath my sandaled feet—I was walking upon wood! How many Egyptians had ever experienced such a sensation? I was lucky indeed.
Akhenaten barked orders. The soldiers untied us from the dock; oars broke water in unison and guided us out into the river. The sail billowed open into a white cloud as a strong gust snagged the fabric, tugging us southward. Magnificent walls surrounding the white city of Memphis began to grow smaller. My hands shook with apprehension and excitement. Father would have no idea where I was.
How long would we be gone? Where did the waters of the river come from? Where did they go? How many other cities were there?
At the stern the captain shifted the rudder, and the bow veered left. The guards set aside their oars, allowing the howling wind to power us. Skimming atop the ancient river like a falcon catching the air currents, the surrounding banks blurred. I sat out of the way, near the stern and anchored supply crates.
Forcing his hunched posture upright, Akhenaten paraded across the hull as the wind whipped his kilt. People on the shore stared as we slipped past. At the bow my master rested one foot on the edge of the barge, basking in glory under the morning rays of the Aten.
Movement flashed at the corner of my vision. Something rustled underneath a white canvas covering the supply crates. Holding my breath in suspense, I glanced around. The captain hadn’t noticed. What new surprise waited? The sheet rustled again and a small hand popped out. Grasping the edge of the cover, small fingers slowly drew it back.
Dark hair flowed beneath, followed by beautiful eyes surrounded in deep green. My heart jumped with elation. My favorite person in the world lay hidden beneath!
Nefertiti’s jaw dropped when she saw me watching. Motioning with a finger to her lips to remain silent, she winked. I grinned and nodded as she covered herself again. But my stomach churned with worry. What might Akhenaten do when he found her?
Memphis faded into sand and water. On both sides of the river farmers prepared their parched fields and irrigation canals, hungry to receive the life-giving floodwaters. The acres cracked, peeled, and curled upward like a crocodile’s scales. But after the floods came and receded, the soil would turn black. Then the green life of vegetation would rise from the earth.
The workers’ skins had burnt to a dark tan, similar to Akhenaten, who contrasted with the pale elite of the rest of his family. Guiding donkeys and oxen, one farmer worked on a shaduf machine. The shaduf held a weight on one end of a long arm and a rope attached to a bucket on the other. Pushing the end with the bucket into the river, the hunched farmer utilized the counterweight and with minimal effort lifted the pail of water. He poured the liquid into his irrigation ditch, where it ran toward his fields. Smiling with fascination at the simple marvel, I took in this grand new world.
Farther to the west, beyond the strips of farmland, red desert and hills sprawled to the horizon. To the east lay a smaller expanse of rocky desert, before the Red Sea Hills marked the edge of the world. Akhenaten was right, there wasn’t much out here apart from what life the river brought. But the Nile also had to be feared, given the countless stories of li
ves being taken by the eternal waters. Its power and speed were vastly greater than its small waves would suggest.
The northerly wind gusted in my ears and tore at my hair and kilt, bringing a taste of dirt as we picked up our pace against the current.
“We’ll be gone a few weeks,” the captain said. “Perhaps you could learn to row … or even steer during the slow times.”
My jaw must’ve hit the deck in surprise. “I want to learn both!”
“Don’t get too excited,” the captain said. Pulling the handle of the rudder toward him caused veins to pop along his forearms and a deformed foot and lower leg to brace against the hull. A twisting scar ran from his knee to a half-missing foot. The outer portion of his sandal sat empty. “Once you know how to row, it’s just work, struggling against the Nile herself. Thankfully, she isn’t so temperamental this time of year, but you’re scrawny and probably unable to row hard.”
Glancing at my frail body, embarrassment rose before I could gather my nerve. “I’ll try my best. There’re nine other soldiers, so you can put me on the side with only four.”
He grinned as he scrutinized our watery trajectory. “It’ll have to wait. Akhenaten doesn’t want you wasting anyone’s time or energy on something you’d never be good at or needed for.”
I couldn’t force my gaze from his half foot with two twisted toes. “If I can row as well as one of the soldiers, will you teach me about your bow?”
Narrowing his eyes, the captain studied me. A thin smile crept onto his lips. “A servant will never excel with weapons. Only if thousands of the Nine Bows—our traditional enemies—hunt us and the mysterious Dark Ones sweep up from the south, only if they wipe out our armies and ravage our homeland would you be called upon to fight. So dire a situation will never again befall this kingdom. Because of the Aten we’re all created and born into the role necessary for the god-king and our country to thrive. It’s been this way for eternity; it’s the way of the world. Order over chaos. Only when we forget do we fall victim to the madness swirling in the raging storms around us.”
Sighing, eerie images of the Dark Ones flooded my mind, probably called forth from childhood tales. Black humanoid forms shifted amongst a rolling fog. The monsters surrounded me and pressed in. Shuddering with terror, I shook my head and blinked to dispel the vision. “Akhenaten taught me the ways of the world. I am what I am, but I thirst to fire an arrow … just once.”
The captain’s smirk opened up into a full smile, although he wouldn’t look at me.
The wooden frame of his bow lay still but powerful beside his hideous leg. How could the sun-disc give the chosen people a weapon of wood? Wouldn’t it have burned? Pondering Father’s explanation, it suddenly sank in that the captain had said we’d be gone for weeks. My stomach knotted with anxiety. Father would be very upset.
Hours passed as we skimmed through the countryside under the blazing sun and roaring wind, which drowned out the soldier’s conversations. Akhenaten remained at the bow in regal pose while commoners dropped everything to stare.
What was he was doing? Displaying his royal presence? Or perhaps he wished people would recognize him—
“Hi!” a female voice shouted, making me jump. Nefertiti stood beside the crates and waved, a beaming smile on her face. She held something in her other hand, something she shouldn’t have been holding.
Akhenaten turned, his sunken cheeks burning red. Orb-like eyes narrowed into shadow as deep as his makeup.
Journal Translation
NEFERTITI HELD AN orange and white cat in the crook of her arm.
“Croc!” I yelled.
“What have you done?” Akhenaten asked as he stepped toward the stern, planks shaking under his feet. Punishing Nefertiti with his sneer, I recalled the look he cast when he struck me for disobedience.
Her beautiful smile vanished, giving way to quivering lips. “When your brother hunts he brings cats to flush out the fowl,” she said.
“I am not the crown prince Thutmose, and I do not care about an insignificant cat.” Clenching his fists, his knuckles blanched. “We carry a cage of felines, trained to hunt fowl. They are not strays like that one.” He pointed at Croc. “What are you doing here?”
“I can help,” Nefertiti said in a merry timbre. “Pharaoh doesn’t know you left. My father doesn’t either, but they’d probably want to keep an eye on this expedition. I’ll be able to tell them a story of valor … or one of failure.”
The escalating tension made me swallow. Nefertiti’s father, Ay, was the great court advisor and a military commander, amongst the most elite of society. Even though Pharaoh may not know everything that occurred in his kingdom, Ay certainly did.
Akhenaten’s jaw clenched, his fingers wringing the shaft of his walking stick. “No woman can help a man hunt. You will swim back to Memphis!”
“Hatshepsut did things she wasn’t supposed to,” Nefertiti said, sticking out a hand to slow Akhenaten’s advance. “And she became the only woman pharaoh.”
“Hatshepsut’s been erased from history, her mummy and monuments defaced.” Spit flew from his lips. “She will never experience the afterlife and will soon be forgotten. Do you desire a life after this one?” He raised his walking stick.
Cowering, Nefertiti sunk to the hull. I attempted to leap over and protect her, but my body didn’t respond. Only my toes curled in horror.
Wood struck her across the shoulder, releasing a crack. My heart jolted in pain. Crying out, she slumped over. Croc scampered from her arms and disappeared behind the crates.
Grabbing Nefertiti by the hair, Akhenaten yanked her to her feet as his trembling lips dripped saliva. “We’ve come too far to turn around.” He dragged her to the edge of the boat.
Screaming, tears brimmed in Nefertiti’s eyes. My legs finally responded. Stepping between them and the water, my head hung in meek opposition.
Flinging me aside, Akhenaten shoved Nefertiti’s head over the edge. She wailed and pleaded, her limbs flailing. Biting agony, more painful than any physical ailment, sunk into my soul. I attempted to scramble to my feet, but it was too late.
“Perhaps I can take her back,” the captain said, standing and stalling the horrific scene. “In the next city we can take a skiff back to Memphis.”
“Sit down, Mahu,” Akhenaten said, his voice low.
The captain sunk back toward the rudder.
Akhenaten tapped his chin. “But I may have a use for you, cousin.” Snatching her back, he dropped her onto the wood planks. The thud caused my jaw to cramp with tension. “But we sail for weeks, and I do not want to hear any complaining.”
Nefertiti sobbed uncontrollably.
“The peasants wish to gaze upon me,” Akhenaten said. “They must know who I am, and I do not want to be seen with a woman. Not yet. You will stay out of sight, or you will be tossed into the river.”
Curling into a ball, Nefertiti clutched her shoulder and shivered. Akhenaten strutted back to the bow, his wing-like shoulder blades crawling under thin musculature as he utilized his walking stick for support.
Crouching at Nefertiti’s side, I placed a hand on her back.
“Don’t touch her!” an enormous guard at the side of the boat said.
I jerked my hand back, but stayed by her side. “Are you okay?” I asked.
Tears cascaded down my love’s creamy cheeks.
“Thank you for bringing Croc,” I said. “He bites anyone who tries to pick him up, but must’ve sensed your kind soul.”
She chuckled through her whimpers, warming my heart. “I didn’t want you to be without your Croc,” she said. “He’s opened up to me over the years. I don’t know what I thought would happen. In my heart I knew I’d be punished, but I overheard Akhenaten and wanted to come. He’s plotting something, and I don’t want to sit around waiting only to be forced into the typical woman’s role. I want to be like Hatshepsut.” She sobbed. “I feel so sorry for Akhenaten’s girls.”
“His girls?” I asked.
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The burning light in her eyes faded to a glimmer. “He’s of the line of the Aten and has owned women since becoming a man several inundations ago. One has already born him a child, even though several other pregnancies didn’t survive. He doesn’t allow other men around them, so maybe you were unaware. I had assured him you’re only a servant, not a male he needs to worry about … so we can still see each other.”
My heart sunk into my stomach. Is that what she really thought of me? A friend, but hardly a man? I’d risked my own life for her, because I loved her. But I’d always be his servant. Something deep in my soul stirred and boiled over. My cheeks flushed as I looked to the sky and the blazing sun. But I had accepted what I was long ago. My shoulders hunched and my knees wobbled as a fog rolled over my thoughts. Anger passed as fast as it’d come.
“You don’t want him to see you as a threat, or he’ll have you castrated,” Nefertiti said. “Or worse.”
Perhaps she told Akhenaten she didn’t see me as a man just to pacify his aggression and jealousy. Either way, I couldn’t ask. The answer could destroy me.
I shuffled back to the crates, a shell of a man. An orange and white ball sat wedged into a gap between boxes. Two dilated pupils stared back. Hissing, Croc thrust lightning-quick claws into the air before sitting quietly. I scooped him up as he hissed again, this time quieter. Scratching along the soft underside of his white chin and cheeks, he purred but kept watch on the others. Tears brimmed in my eyes, but I wouldn’t let them fall or let anyone see.
Sailing along the twists and turns of the river, darkness started to descend.
“We dock at the bank,” Mahu ordered, pointing.
Inching over to Nefertiti, I asked, “What’re we doing?”
Her dull eyes didn’t focus. “It’s too risky to sail at night. We could crash into a sand bar or rocks, especially when the waters are low.”
The port side of the vessel eased against the left shore. Akhenaten always preferred east, the direction of the rising Aten.
After stepping ashore, the soldiers hauled on ropes to anchor the boat into the sand. Two pitched a large tent while others unrolled blankets.
Eve of the Pharaoh: Historical Adventure and Mystery Page 7
