The Awakening Aten

by Aidan K. Morrissey

  Tiye nodded to Nebetya, the young, ever present servant girl. Nebetya left through the royal entrance behind the thrones and returned in a few minutes. With her came two people. Tawy could not see them as her view was blocked by the thrones. When they arrived beside the dais, she recognized them immediately and began to cry. She ran to her mother and they hugged, tears streaming down both of their faces. There were no words exchanged. Words would come later. After a long time the two women let go of each other and Tawy, looking over her mother’s shoulder, saw her father standing, tears running down his cheeks.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he mouthed without making a sound and held out his arms to his daughter. She went to him and embraced him tightly.

  ‘Oh father, please forgive me.’

  ‘It is I who needs forgiveness Tawy, not you.’

  The door opened again and Merit came in with Djoser’s three daughters, followed by Yuya and Tjuya. When all the embraces and kisses had ended, or at least subsided, Haqwaset looked from the newly reunited family to Tiye and back again.

  ‘At least maybe something good has come out of the events of the past days,’ he said. Tiye reached out and took his hand in hers.

  The following days were full of activity. Tawy’s voice could be heard coming from the rooms allocated to her and the family in the small palatial building assigned for Yuya. She, her mother, and sister Merit, were inseparable.

  As time passed, Amunitore also spent more time in the company of Tawy, Merit, their mother and Djoser’s children. Maiherpri’s two brothers, too, often joined them. Amunitore felt more comfortable with this group than being alone with Merkare, who was struggling with the loss of her youngest son. It was not that Amunitore felt Maiherpri’s loss any less than his mother. Merkare was prone to hours of not speaking, just sitting looking thoughtfully. Amunitore felt her presence was not helpful to Merkare trying to cope with the loss. The presence of the person to be married to Maiherpri was a constant reminder of what had been lost. Amunitore believed the healing process would be helped if she kept a little distance between them. Of course she ate her meals with the Viceroy and his family every day. It was not all gloom. His brothers talked fondly about their younger brother and told of some of his escapades. Amunitore had been surprised at how much time the brothers had been able to spend with Maiherpri, given the nature of their duties. It seemed as if any excuse to cross the river would involve a clandestine meeting.

  Occasionally the family were joined by Mahu and Meri-Bes, Maiherpri’s closest friends. Mahu had also been raised in the nursery and was able to tell stories from the time they played together as children. One day the two young Princes came to see them. Thutmose, being the elder, spoke for both of them.

  ‘Maiherpri taught us both how to play Senet. He would spend many hours patiently playing with us and we miss him very much. Please can we place our Senet board and pieces with him so he can think of us in the afterlife and not forget us?’

  Merkare picked Thutmose up first and then Teppy, giving them a kiss.

  ‘He would never forget you two,’ she said, smiling for the first time in days. ‘He loved you both like brothers and you will always be in his heart.’

  ‘Father told us we can help make an Osiris bed for Maiherpri. We’re going to the river tomorrow to dig the richest silt we can find,’ Thutmose said.

  ‘The barley seeds are coming from grandfather’s estate and father is going to build the bed himself with Huy,’ Teppy chimed in.

  ‘The rush mat is being woven by Kirgipa’s servants, the linen is the finest in the Two Lands,’ said Thutmose.

  The family knew it was a great honour to be bestowed in death with an Osiris bed. An effigy of the god was made from silt and sown with barley. New growth, in the darkness of the tomb, demonstrated the rejuvenation of the ba. It was unheard of for a non-royal to be honoured in this way.

  Merymose spent many hours with Haqwaset. The brothers wanted to ensure all would be well for Maiherpri in the afterlife and carefully considered what should go with him into the tomb.

  ‘I have asked that his body be dressed with jewels from the royal collection. He’ll wear something of our father, grandfather and his father before him. He’ll have my favourite amulet so that many generations of Kings will lend a part of their spirit to aid him in his journey. His shroud wrapping will include cloth belonging to Hatshepsut. Special canopic jars have been commissioned,’ Haqwaset said.

  ‘Please brother. Merkare and I are eternally grateful for all you are doing, but leave a little for us to do. Please don’t be offended Haqwaset, but we need to bury our son and prepare as much as possible for him.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ said Haqwaset, ‘am I doing too much? I just want what’s best for him and I hoped to take some of the burden from your shoulders.’

  ‘You’ve already done so Haqwaset and we love you all the more for what you’re doing, but we need to occupy ourselves too. Did you know the boys have given their senet gaming board and pieces?’

  ‘No, I didn’t. They loved him too. We all did, very, very much. He was a bright spirit and our lives are darker without him. Please let me know what I can do. I promise I’ll try to stop interfering so much.’

  Merymose smiled. He could see his brother was upset and he clasped him firmly by the shoulder.

  ‘Haqwaset, you have done all you can. Please don’t blame yourself anymore for his death; it was the bowman who killed him, not you. Maiherpri would not have had it any other way. You are honouring him in death, as you loved him in life; you should be content. We’ll change nothing of what you’ve organized. The canopic jars, however, will have to be used for someone else. Amunitore has chosen an unusual and special design, perhaps it’s best if she has her way in that.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Haqwaset.

  ‘Just as well,’ replied Merymose, ‘they were delivered to the priests days ago.’

  ‘Perhaps I’m not all powerful after all,’ he said.

  ‘You’re married to Tiye,’ responded Merymose. ‘I think together you are omnipotent, or at least as all powerful as anyone on earth can be.’

  The brothers went through the list of items to be placed in the tomb. In addition to the royal jewellery, there would be earrings and bracelets, beads, neck pieces and amulets, his favourite bow, two of his protective arm bracers, his quivers and no fewer than seventy five arrows. Maiherpri liked to make his own arrows. He said his prowess with the bow relied on the straightest and strongest of arrows and if he made them himself he could be sure, if he missed the target, he could blame no-one but himself. In the room Maiherpri used as a workshop they found more than one hundred finished arrows and many more to be worked on.

  ‘Can I keep thirty arrows for my use?’ Haqwaset asked. ‘I would like to go hunting with you and your two sons, using Maiherpri’s own arrows to kill the game for the funeral feast and also for the butchers to prepare the joints for placing in the tomb. It would be fitting for his arrows to be used.’

  ‘What a wonderful thought, Haqwaset. The boys and I will be honoured to accompany you.’

  As well as meat, loaves of bread would be baked, to be interred with him.

  ‘Plenty of them,’ Haqwaset said. ‘Maiherpri has a healthy appetite.’

  Plants, glass, pottery and faience vessels and bowls, some taken from his quarters, others given as gifts by his friends, were also to be included.

  ‘I think Meri-Bes was only joking when he proclaimed that the two hounds should be buried with him,’ said Merymose.

  ‘He was probably serious,’ replied Haqwaset, once more smiling, despite his sadness. ‘Meri-Bes struggles with things on four legs which are bigger than he is.’

  Both men laughed.

  ‘But he can’t have his way,’ Haqwaset added. ‘Maiherpri loved those animals far too much for them to be killed without good reason.’

  ‘Amunitore
says it would be fitting if their collars were to go with him,’ said Merymose. ‘The dogs themselves she would like to keep.’

  ‘She is showing maturity beyond her years,’ said Haqwaset.

  ‘The sudden death of a loved one can make you grow up very quickly,’ replied Merymose. His brother nodded in agreement.

  The funeral was to take place towards the end of the last month of the year. Based on the design of the Mortuary Temple it was imperative the funeral was completed by then. The following month would see the waters rise with the inundation and the Temple would be flooded.

  ‘The priests tell me all will be guided by the goddess Sopdet and her great star, the star of the dog,’ said Merymose.

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Haqwaset.

  ‘They tell me it’s a great omen; this will give Merkare some comfort to know, especially given Maiherpri’s love for his hounds.’

  Haqwaset took a drink from the wine cup beside him. He listened to what his brother was saying.

  ‘The great dog star disappeared from the night sky on the day Maiherpri died. It will rise again, as it always does, to herald in the season of the inundation in seventy days, where it will appear in the sky just before the sun rises. Maiherpri will be buried on that day. This should also bring comfort to you, Haqwaset. The omen relating to the dogs surely meant it was Maiherpri’s fate to have died exactly on the day he did,’ Merymose responded, trying to give comfort to his grieving brother.

  ‘Omens? Omens and gods. Gods for this, gods for that,’ spat Haqwaset. ‘Sometimes I think Yuya is right. We have invented these gods for our own comfort and convenience. The star of Sopdet falls and rises every year at the same time. It could have been Maiherpri’s ‘destiny’ to have died ten years ago or fifty years from now on the same star defined date. Yes, it’s incredible he should die on the day of the star’s setting and that I declared seventy days of mourning, not knowing this timing would fit so neatly into the cycle of the star. I tell you Merymose, it’s coincidence; nothing more than coincidence. It’s neither omen nor harbinger. Maybe there is only one true God. Of one thing I am certain; that god is not Amun.’

  ‘You may be right, Haqwaset, or you may be wrong. All I can say is Merkare and Amunitore will believe it’s an omen. They’ll see it as a sign of the gods calling him, maybe to be a carer for their dogs in the afterlife. Who knows what interpretation they’ll put on it? I say anything which brings some form of comfort to those two suffering women, who undoubtedly feel the loss the most at this moment, is a good thing.’ Merymose was as calm when he spoke, as Haqwaset had been angry.

  ‘Ignore me brother,’ the King said, staring into the wine cup he had quickly drained following his outburst. ‘You’re right. My arguments with the gods should not cause harm to those I love. Tell them the priests believe it to be a great omen and an assurance that Maiherpri’s journey into the afterlife will be both quick and joyous. Tell them the goddess Sopdet will ensure the date of his death and funeral will be heralded throughout eternity by her star, the brightest in all the sky, leaving and returning. Tell them whatever will make the pain they are suffering ease, even if just a little. Tell them anything you want, but don’t try to convince me. Wine Steward, come here, this cup is empty.’

  chapter twenty-nine

  Perneb and his family returned home a few days after the Beautiful Feast of the Valley. They wouldn’t be able to be in Waset for the funeral, as the date coincided with the Feast Day of Hathor. As the governor of the Sepat, which was the home of the great goddess, he would have to remain to lead the celebrations.

  Djoser was sad to see them go. He was unsure if there would be many opportunities to spend time with them in the future. He hoped their paths would cross on happier occasions. In just a short time he had become very close to them and would miss their company.

  He threw himself into his work, creating the ‘Book of the Dead’ for Maiherpri, or ‘The Book of Going Forth by Day,’ its more formal title, insisted on by the mortuary priests. He spent time in the company of Maiherpri’s brothers. Together with his daughters he spoke, at length, to Amunitore. All the information he gleaned, helped him to fashion the papyrus scroll. He showed Maiherpri’s journey to the afterlife. He hadn’t known the young Nubian in life, but he hoped his depiction of him on the scroll was not far from the real man. When at last it was finished, Djoser showed it first to Yuya. He had not wanted to go directly to the King in case it was not liked. Yuya assured him it was a work to be proud of and took Djoser immediately to show it to Merymose and Merkare. Merkare cried as she looked at it.

  ‘Thank you Djoser,’ she said, through her tears. ‘It is a very special and beautiful piece of work. Can we go with you when you meet the King? We would like to see his reaction.’

  ‘It would be an honour and a comfort to me,’ assured Djoser, ‘I don’t mind telling you that the King frightens me. I would be happier if my audience with him was not alone.’

  Djoser need not have been fearful. Haqwaset’s reaction was the same as the others who had seen it. He looked at it together with Tiye.

  ‘I have never seen the Book personalized in such a way,’ she said. ‘The gods will certainly know Maiherpri from this work.’

  ‘Yuya’s faith in you is not misplaced after all,’ Haqwaset said. ‘Perhaps when he has no further use for you he could send you to me. I can always find work for a talent such as this.’

  Haqwaset and the family remained in Waset much longer than intended. They needed to go to Ineb-Hedj, returning to Waset in time for the funeral and the start of the inundation, which was now less than two months away.

  Merymose was anxious to return to his duties in Kush. He could not, however, bring himself to leave his wife on her own. She was still grieving for their son. He had been receiving messages, almost daily, from a large team of couriers and scribes. There appeared to be no obvious signs of problems but Kush was not an easy country to administer. It was a foreign country in which, although its people in general had come to accept the rule of Kemet, there was always an undercurrent of mistrust. Any signs of unrest had to be dealt with quickly and efficiently. The gold and other assets were important for the continuing dominance of the Two Lands over its neighbouring countries.

  Amongst the sadness there was still time for a little joy. In a ceremony, attended by all the family, Prince Thutmose was presented with his leopard skin robe, an important element in the ceremonial dress of a Sem Priest. This robe had been meticulously prepared by the team of seamstresses working with Kirgipa and was of the highest quality. As part of his training to be the next King, Thutmose was to spend time as a priest in the Temple of Ptah in Ineb-Hedj, under the guiding hand of his uncle Anen.

  The Crown Prince would soon rise to be Overseer of all the Priests of Upper and Lower Kemet and ultimately, High Priest of Ptah. As Haqwaset and Tiye had discussed in the garden, a short time ago, this was all part of Haqwaset’s plan to diminish the power and roles of the priests. The specially commissioned statue of Thutmose, in his new robes, was also presented to him. Carved, personally, by the Chief royal sculptor, Men, it received a rapturous reception from the family.

  Haqwaset, Tiye, Kirgipa, Smenkhare and Prince Thutmose set out, the next day, for Ineb-Hedj to invest Thutmose in the Temple of Ptah. They planned to return in time for the funeral of Maiherpri and the inundation. It was fitting for Thutmose to participate in the funeral ceremony in his position as a Sem Priest, something which made him feel honoured. It was as if, for the first time, he was being looked on as more than a child, he was at last entering into the world of adulthood.

  *

  After seventy days, when the dog star of Sopdet ascended again above the pre-dawn horizon, those who had left, returned. All was ready for the funeral procession. The funerary goods were assembled on carts to be pulled behind the gilded coffin. This, the innermost of three, beautifully painted and carved, was topped by a gol
den image of the young warrior. Once fitted, one inside another, all three were to be placed inside a sarcophagus made from precious cedar wood and measuring three cubits in length.

  The sarcophagus was coated with black resin, decorated in gold foil. Anubis and the Four Sons of Horus were symbolized on its sides, Isis standing at its foot. The mourners were many. Each would follow the body into the tomb and place whatever special items they wanted to gift to their dead loved one.

  Teppy and Nefertiti, who had always been close, had become inseparable over the last month, they, together with Smenkhare, would each take a part of the Senet board and games pieces. Amunitore, accompanied by the two hounds, would bring in the dog collars. A bracelet she had wanted to give Maiherpri on their wedding day had already been placed around his wrist. His brothers would carry in the bracers and quivers of arrows, Merkare the perfume vessels and Merymose the canopic jars containing the stomach, liver, lungs and intestines of his son. These canopic jars were not, however, like any seen before.

  Traditionally, canopic jars were topped by the image of one of the four sons of Horus. Each charged with caring for one part of the body and each representing a point on a compass. Amseti, the only one of the four to be represented in human form, cared for the liver and represented the south. Hapy, from the north, in the form of a baboon, protected the lungs. From the east was Duamutef, a jackal, who safeguarded stomach and spleen. Finally, from the west, Qebehsenuef taking the image of his father, a hawk, cared for the intestines.

  Amunitore had asked that the jars for Maiherpri be all fashioned in human form. Her own face as the model. However, each was inscribed with a dedication to the appropriate son of Horus. Each jar was carefully wrapped in linen to replicate the image of the mummified corpse. In this way Maiherpri would know, throughout eternity, she would care for him. The jars were placed in a specially made chest. This was decorated with the four sons of Horus and the sister goddesses Isis and Nephthys.