Shadow of the Sun (The Shadow Saga)

by Merrie P. Wycoff

  “I will get it.” I ran after the ball.

  “Wait!” Hep-Mut chased me.

  A half-cracked door led to a room filled with flickering light. I tiptoed in. Hundreds of candles stood at attention like royal guards. An alabaster bowl positioned in front of a tray with a piece of rotting flesh was now peppered with flies. Upon the black granite altar lay a decorated papyrus propped up by an easel. The beautiful symbolic writing intrigued me. There had to be magic here.

  “I have your ball. Let us leave.”

  “Just one look.” My fingers traveled over the sacred texts. I read aloud, “Ah-Mun, the Hidden One. May He rule in darkness forever. Hail to Thee, Master of all Deities, who stole the throne of Osiris to illumine the Netherworld. Come thou who carriest out the plans of the Shadowed Ones.”

  A shrill whimper pierced through a linen-draped cage. Moving closer, I reached to examine it.

  A plume of black smoke whirled into the room as Sit-Amun manifested. “How dare you? You trespassed in my private sanctuary. No one is allowed here!”

  Startled, I turned and tipped over the orange-veined alabaster bowl, the contents of which soiled the altar. A thick red puddle splashed upon the sacred book.

  “Fools!” Sit-Amun snarled. An ink bottle tumbled off her tray and spilt upon her ancient crimson ceremonial robe. Little veins of ink seeped across the rich woven linen embroidered with golden symbols. “Look what you have done!” She hovered over us. The violent mystery of her hardened beauty made me tremble. Her cold black calculating eyes—so like a jackal—accentuated her inhumane howl. My heart pounded. The terror of getting caught and the certainty of punishment made my knees knock.

  “I am sorry for my clumsiness,” said Hep-Mut, her voice quaking as she scurried to clean up the mess.

  Aunt Sit-Amun drew back her hand to slap Hep-Mut, then stopped. “Is this any way to treat the Royal Consort of Pharaoh? And you, you wretched little thing.” She pointed at me. “You are Nefertiti’s first born? I have beheaded slaves and hung them upside down in front of the red obelisk for lesser acts. You have ruined a precious hundred-year-old relic. You will pay for this.”

  My lower lip quaked. No one had ever raised a voice to me. The pleasure Sit-Amun took in my discomfort danced in her eyes. Hep-Mut shielded me. “Glorious One, she is only a child.” I wished Sit-Amun had slapped us both and banished us. My stomach churned. I felt like a worm before a praying mantis. “You are Khemitian, Hep-Mut. How can you serve those not from our pure lineage? It is an abomination. The Amun priests should never have allowed my brother’s joining with a Semite.”

  “But Ti-Yee and Nefertiti are kind to me.” Hep-Mut shook with fright. “I will tell Merit-Aten’s father you came here as a thief to ransack my private chamber.” Hep-Mut fell to her knees. “Please, I beg you, do not smear my name.” “I have the power to throw you both out into the street for your indiscretion today.” Sit-Amun smirked and dropped the remaining black ink bottles, which shattered on the limestone floor. Black ink seeped into the cracks between tiles. Sit-Amun smiled with a smugness that made me flush. Why did she have to be so cruel to my nursemaid? This was my fault, not Hep-Mut’s.

  Sit-Amun pointed at Hep-Mut. “Kiss the hem of my sheath.” The dwarf crawled to do the eerie woman’s bidding. Sit-Amun laughed like a gloating hyena after killing its prey. How dare she treat my nursemaid like this? Why did I have no power to stop this?

  “Clean up this entire floor all the way down the hall. Every piece of limestone must shine.”

  Red swirls burned at the base of Sit-Amun’s spine. The red rage of survival signaled her compulsive fear. Sit-Amun always used fear to reduce others into submission. While I dreaded her jackal’s wrath, the swirling colors mesmerized me.

  Hep-Mut ripped her gown and beat upon her chest. “Please forgive us.” The ugly black ink stain turned into one hundred spiders, which enveloped Hep-Mut. She shrieked and swatted them off her face and body. Sit-Amun gloated as the black arachnids engulfed my diminutive caretaker. I threw up my hands to keep them from jumping onto me. How did Sit-Amun have so much power and magic? A sharp noise pricked the air as the drape-covered platform quaked.

  “What is that?” I asked, pointing at the stand.

  Distracted, Sit-Amun waved her hand and the spiders evaporated.

  “You are dismissed. Go now. You dare not say a word about this, or I will keep my promise.”

  Sit-Amun ushered us out into the grand hallway with an unexpected urgency as a great flood of golden violet light swept toward us. My heart raced. I always could feel his presence before I set eyes upon my father’s face.

  His head barely cleared the high wooden lintel. Hep-Mut dropped to her knees, threw out her arms, and bowed deep from the waist in honor of my father, Amunhotep, The Younger.

  “Netri!” I ran into his arms, thankful for the safety of his embrace as his loving light enclosed me. I stared at Sit-Amun, hoping she wouldn’t squeal on us like a cunning rat.

  “Greetings,” he said in a deep voice. Netri’s green eyes sparkled and contrasted with his pale skin. His thick lips, like feather pillows, parted to show fine straight teeth. The blissful rapture he evoked confused and intrigued the court, so conditioned, as they were to the tyranny of the Amun priesthood. Instead of the torture and intimidation used by the priests to collect their monthly tithes from their congregation, Father used compassion and understanding of the poverty besieging the uneducated peasants of Khemit and threw silver and precious jewels to the denizens. Freshly revived from a two-day sleep, Netri looked renewed and ready for his earthly duties. I could feel the Great God Aten’s adornment surrounding him after his morning worship. I did not understand why everyone worried about his unusual need for excessive slumber. The guards posted near his bed to ensure that he hadn’t taken his last breath must have already reported to my Grand Djedti Ti-Yee that her son had risen.

  “What brings you two into Sit-Amun’s estate?” asked Father.

  “They were just passing through.” Sit-Amun lied without revealing our transgression to Father. But would she allow us to stay in her palace awhile longer? I bit my tongue to keep from revealing to Netri her cruelty to Hep-Mut, out of fear of Sit-Amun’s retaliation.

  Father assessed the spilt ink upon her robe and noted Hep-Mut’s tears. He bent, gazed into Hep-Mut’s eyes, as he lifted my caretaker to her feet, “Arise.”

  Hep-Mut stammered. But it was his way. Netri had emerged into a world too harsh for his tender being. It was his first incarnation. I would do anything to keep his radiance burning bright and vowed not to let that blaze dim.

  “Brother, may I have a private word with you?” Sit-Amun asked, giving us a slight nod.

  “Of course,” said Father as he lent his ear. A moment later he looked over his shoulder at us.

  I cursed. Our fate had been sealed. Sit-Amun must be accusing Hep-Mut of thievery. And she probably said I was her accomplice. When she finished her quiet words to Netri, she turned on her heel, and her voice grew louder. “I will take my leave. I have a sculpting class. Good day.” She imperiously left the room.

  “Are you going to the Greeting Ceremony?” I asked Netri in a high voice.

  “No. We will greet King Tushratta’s Daughter and her attendants at tonight’s feast. Daughter, I must attend to my Heart. I have not set eyes upon Nefertiti since breakfast.”

  My head throbbed but felt relief that he didn’t seem upset. “May I go with you?”

  “Yes, Beloved, but give your attendant leave to take pleasure of her own.” Father’s long strides shook his white linen kilt with each step, and the sash about his waist—tied like a long bull’s tail—swung in rhythm. ‘My Heart’—was how he addressed my HeMeti, Nefertiti. His heart sang for her, as did mine. His long fingers almost swallowed my hand.

  I decided it best if I go with him in case Sit-Amun had the Pharaoh order us to leave the palace. The attendants heaved open the wooden doors to Nefertiti’s private chambers. Golden beaded curta
ins flowed like waterfalls over the sea green walls. Thick hand-woven carpets showed patterns of squawking birds resting in flowering acacia trees. Netri lowered his long frame with a sigh into the rose-colored chair nearest the couch where Nefertiti reclined. How perfect. Nefermeant harmonious, and titi meant baby steps, so my Meti’s name was She Who Walks In Harmony. At her feet, my younger sister, played with a doll.

  My Grand Djedti Ti-Yee sat across from her brother, Grand Elder Ay, and the father of Nefertiti. Ay’s title of The Royal Fanbearer meant that his loyalty had earned the ears of my parents. Father pulled me onto his lap. His heart raced through the thinness of his chest as he gazed at my Mother, both his cousin and consort. HeMeti set aside the papyrus scrolls and sipped some hibiscus tea. The three worked with diligence upon the royal list for the Banquet of Full Harvest. I sighed, thankful that they didn’t appear upset or alarmed over my run-in with Sit-Amun. Although I ached to see the foreigners, I had to find out what Sit-Amun had revealed to Father.

  “I shall make all the arrangements,” my HeMeti said and reached for Netri’s hand.

  “Nefertiti, remember the wine should be kept in a cool place before it is served,” said Grand Djedti Ti-Yee. “Order the attendants to wash the vases; they smell of rotting flowers. Never mind. Ay, have Nefertiti’s duties reassigned. We cannot vex her before she easts her third daughter. She must rest during this pregnancy.”

  HeMeti paled. Regardless of station or age, our duty revolved around pleasing the Per Aat Ti-Yee. As the highest ranking elder female, her smile meant we had appeased her, at least for the moment. And if my Grand Djed Amunhotep could ignore the Amun priests and grant the title of co-regents to my parents, they too would have power and authority at court.

  Ti-Yee shifted. “This banquet is imperative. We shall announce your pregnancy. With hope, you two may be named the Pharaoh’s and my successors.”

  “Pharaoh has not mentioned it to me,” said Father.

  Grand Elder Ay winced. Sweat beaded on his receding forehead and dripped down his large nose and protruding cheek-bones “He must announce your co-regency soon. King Tushratta’s daughter, Tadukhepa has been here six months already. The Pharaoh already made her a Lesser Consort and now he has added her attendants to the harem. Her male child would mean more competition as an heir.”

  “We cannot take any chances,” said Grand Djedti Ti-Yee. “Your pregnancy will ensure good-will with the people. Have you taken the herbs I prescribed?” Blue light pulsated from her throat as she fondled her lapis scarab necklace. Blue meant her strength was communicating with power. “Yes, Majesty, every day,” Mother replied.

  I wondered if more children with strong virtues would help us restore the light of the Aten. Otherwise it seemed silly to keep having children in hopes that they would rule.

  “You better be,” replied Grand Djedti. As short with words as she was in height, Ti-Yee appraised every situation before she spoke. Timeless. Elegance. Power. “My seer predicted ill fate for a male in this lineage.” Her face grew drawn. “I could not bear losing another son. Accident, pffffffft.”

  The Per Aat spit twice on the ground to ensure protection from the evil that had stolen the life of my uncle in a chariot race. Someone had tampered with the axel, but she heard the Hanuti, the elite Amun black sorcerers, claimed responsibility for Tuthmosis’ early demise. The heir was trained from birth to be a powerful force under Grand Djed Amunhotep. He would have challenged the Amunites.

  Now my father, the meeker brother who committed himself to his esoteric studies, had ended up being forced by life to possibly co-rule Khemit. Prepared neither physically to be a warrior nor tutored in the political intrigues of court life, it seemed as odd as trying to make a dove into a falcon. By fate, my father, Amunhotep The Younger, would have to embrace political life, the very thing he dreaded most. Grand Djedti Ti-Yee set the course of action. She demanded it be followed.

  “We are in alignment,” said my father. “I too, have had great visions for our future. But first, I must mention something Sit-Amun just told me.”

  I stiffened and held my breath, my fingers grabbing Netri’s knee. “Ay, I wish to hear the news of the court.” Ti-Yee repositioned her heavy crown.

  Should I blurt out about Sit-Amun’s papyrus to Amun? Did I dare reveal that she threatened us first? I bit my lip.

  Ay glanced at his nephew with sympathetic eyes. “Today we released a grand barge full of gifts,” he said in a sarcastic tone, “from the Amun priests in the name of the Pharaoh to assure the peaceful alliance between Khemit and Tushratta, the High Ruler of Mitanni.”

  “Gifts?” I asked, remembering that I needed magic more than ever.

  Ti-Yee sniffed. “He means gold. Paying for peace, indeed.”

  Netri grew vivacious. “Then stop the payments. The Aten wills peace for the greatest, most sophisticated land in the known world. The Aten will protect us.”

  Ay stared at my father. “My nephew, peace is bought in either bloodshed or gold. I prefer the latter. Besides, those uncivilized Hittite barbarians would tear at our borders like ravenous wolves. The rulers of Babylonia, Assyria, and throughout Asia Minor all urgently request gold, and Khemitian archers in exchange for their women for the Pharaoh. In return they promise their undying allegiance.”

  “We are blessed with the dawning of this age of peace that our ancestors set in motion. We must be done with battle. Let us all lay down our swords and rejoice,” said Netri with a radiant smile.

  Ay nodded. “Indeed. It is a fine dream. But never assume our neighboring countries want peace. As long as we live in the time of Amun, darkness and greed will rule.”

  That hateful word again. Amun. I shivered and curled into my father’s protective arms. Amun. Darkness. Hidden Things.

  He cuddled me. “The time has come to reintroduce the worship of the light of Aten. And now we have Merit-Aten to add her energy.” He chucked me under the chin. “After all, the prophecy commenced at Merit’s birth four years ago.”

  Ay cleared his throat. “The Amun High Priests request the creation of a small Ritual to the Aten, which they would perform for the masses one night a week to help mingle the worship of both deities, the Aten and the Amun. They shall name it the Sun day, and they will allow your worship of the Aten if they can control it.”

  Father cocked his head, glaring at Ay. “Control the Aten?”

  “Yes, they would create a golden Aten idol and place it on their altar for the common people, who need something tangible to bow down to.” Netri’s face flushed. “It is an abject mockery to reduce the magnificence of the Aten to a human form for idolatry. I will not have it.” His hands clenched. “Although the Amunites worship in the dark, the Aten shines brightest during the day.”

  “Your Majesty, then consider initiating your own priests and priestesses of Aten,” said Ay.

  I could be a priestess of Aten, my heart filled with hope. Maybe it would give me power to change things for the better, unlike the Amunites. “If I will be in charge of the Aten Temple,” my HeMeti interjected, “then I need to become an Initiate. People must look upon me with authority.”

  I found those words strange because she’d never voiced such thoughts before.

  “I forbid you being initiated.” Grand Djedti Ti-Yee crossed her arms. “You are with child, and the power of the Solar light could destroy you as easily as if struck by lightning.” Could I be an initiate or would I too burn up? I shuddered.

  “You chose the conjugal life,” added Ti-Yee glaring at Nefertiti. “You did not dedicate yourself to the life of worship and celibacy as did my son. You should be grateful to even be impregnated again. That was not in our plans.” My HeMeti reddened and dropped her eyes.

  Did she mean that I was a mistake? Didn’t they want me? My heart hurt. I buried my head against Father’s chest. I know I’m only four years old but they forget how much I understand.

  “You are not a vessel who can hold the vibration of the Aten,” said Ay with a p
at to his daughter’s pregnant belly. “You would shatter or burn up. I forbid it, Daughter.”