If I could just be alone with the Khonsu statue he would listen to me. Maybe today the gilded idols would consume the feast laid before them. My stomach jumped.
Sit-Amun stood next to The High Priest Mery-Ptah. He brushed his jeweled hand over his face. I noticed an ugly, red bubbling scar, probably from too much sun.
“Rise, Lord of the Land, Precious is the Justice of the Second Stage of the Sun, Amunhotep, the Peace of Amun,” announced Mery-Ptah, using the Holy names of the Pharaoh.
I stood next to Vizier Ptah-Mose. His brown belly protruded over the top of his kilt. His foul labored breath and the stench of his sweat made me nauseous. His arm brushed against my body. His brown hawk eyes surveyed me like a predator. A shiver ran up my spine.
Amunhotep, with gray hair and shoulders rounded with age, stood bent from the burden of too much responsibility. His obesity spilled over to his wrinkled knees. His pendulant breasts emphasized his envious wealth. He looked absentminded as he held the side of his face and rocked.
“On this 26th day of the second month of the yearly inundation, we summon you as our Lord Amun unites with your mother. Will you accept the reinvigoration?”
“Yah, Amun. If the will of Amun approves, then this humble servant will accept,” replied Grand Djed.
Ptah-Mose said, “Will your earthly body allow the inception once your spirit has been renewed?”
Grand Djed nodded. “Yah, Amun. If it is the will of Amun, then this humble servant will accept.”
“Do you accept the duties of your post and will you uphold all obligations?”
“I do so willingly and freely,” said Grand Djed, wiping the sleep from his eyes.
“Then let the essence of Lord Amun’s sperm reunite with the spirit body of your mother, Mut-em-wia who has wested,” said the High Priest as he swung a golden incense burner. “May this union and the outpouring of energy rejuvenate your aging body.”
All attendees appeared calm and reverent yet an unspoken tension permeated the room. Four young men lifted the golden man, and with heavy sighs carried him into a darkened chamber in the far corner. An unseen stone door gave way and secreted Amun within. I craned my neck to see the ghost of Grand Djed’s mother but the stone door barricaded my view.
I cast my eyes toward the statue of Khonsu, the golden boy, only a hand taller than me. He had strings of flowers around his neck. His perfectly sculpted penis hung like a tiny waterfall. This golden statue stood with vacant eyes, emoting nothing but resignation to his place in life. Strange, he had no colors or life force pulsating from him either. I scooted next to him.
“Ahhhhhhhhh!” A female emitted a loud groan from the southern chamber. The rhythmic moans filled me with eerie recognition. Heat rose up my spine. A man grunted in heightened ecstasy. Was that the sound of the golden Lord Amun? Sit-Amun gazed with longing at the bald Mery-Ptah. Her sensuous lips parted implying she hungered for something. I locked eyes on them. My face reddened. I squirmed.
“R-r-red tent. R-r-ram,” I stuttered. Mouth agape, I pointed at them. Sit-Amun turned. A wave of recognition clouded her face. Her eyes grew feral. She elbowed Mery-Ptah, whose confusion turned into alarm.
“You?” she accused.
I buried my face in my mother’s sheath. I couldn’t believe I let it slip. Those intense erotic moans caused the others to breathe harder. They swayed. Their heads rolled. Lustful red, orange and yellow swirls radiated from their bodies. The fat priest next to me licked his lips. Beads of sweat sat like raindrops upon his upper lip. His hand brushed my bottom as he searched for contact. I whimpered and moved closer to Meti, who encircled me with her arm. I scowled at him, forcing him to turn away in shame. Everywhere I turned, danger surrounded me.
Only five-years of age, it would be four or five more years until my first blood, and then I’d earn my right to choose my mate. Until then, I wouldn’t receive the touch of any male without my consent.
The moans grew to a fevered pitch. This room felt like a tomb, stuffy and enclosed. Meti scolded me with her hand to quiet myself. The ecstasy heightened to a crescendo. Every adult in the room undulated and moaned in unison. They shuddered with ecstasy. My eyes widened with horror, shame and fascination.
Then they moaned softer as the ritual culminated. Sit-Amun and Mery-Ptah seemed agonized to be in my presence, as if it denied them some secret pleasure. I too hated standing near them. It became unbearable. We all shuffled our feet.
What if Sit-Amun tried to kill Grand Djed or Djedti? What if she turned into that monstrous red ram again? I had to watch her every move. If I saw a doll or knife I would scream. This time I would alert everyone about her evil intentions.
Grand Djed and Djedti, both trance-like from drinking the blue lotus wine, let out a relieved sigh. Sweat beaded their foreheads. Sit-Amun put her hand over her heart and patted her angular face. Mery-Ptah hid his from me. The fat priest’s breath caught in his chest. The attendants retrieved Amun from the darkness and returned him to this chamber.
“Blessings upon the Deity Amun, for he has completed his fornication with the spirit of Mut-em-wia, mother to Amunhotep the Elder. This union has received the blessings. Her spirit easted from between the legs of Mut-em-wia like the water that gushes forth from the Water Neter, Hapi in this yearly inundation.”
Mut-em-wia? I knew that she had wested in days gone by. She rested in a locked royal tomb in the Valley of the Queens. Could these Hanuti raise the dead? Why wouldn’t Mut-em-wia come out to greet her son? Every child had heard the myth of how Amun Ra, the Hidden One, descended from the heavens and joined with my great grandmother, Mut-em-wia. Their Divine Conception begat my grandfather. I strained to see inside the tiny room. I wanted to meet a woman who wested and rose again. Meti tugged my hand.
The Vizier picked up the gilded Aba scepter and waved it over Grand Djedti Ti-Yee and Grand Djed Amunhotep. I stifled a scream. If he hurt them I would tell everyone. Wait. I couldn’t do that. Then everyone would know that I burnt down the tent. They would think I tried to assassinate Sit-Amun and Mery-Ptah. We would get thrown out of her palace, publicly flogged and disgraced, or worse, killed. A lump stuck in my throat. The portly priest Ptah-Mose presented an electrum goblet to my Grand Djed to drink. The milky liquid must have been bitter, for my Elder Djed made a foul face. Finishing, he handed the empty cup back. What if it was poisoned? If Pharaoh died before naming my parents as his heirs, we were doomed.
Mery-Ptah proclaimed, “The Divine semen of Amun, the seed of rejuvenation, has verily renewed the essence within the Pharaoh’s body.”
Grand Djed stripped off his linen kilt, then stepped naked as a newborn to be bathed by two priestesses. They oiled him with lotus and frankincense until his bulbous body glistened. A new crown replaced his old one as another attendant tied a new kilt about his waist. Robes of a golden hue, encrusted with costly jewels, draped about him and a collar of carnelian, turquoise, lapis and mother of pearl was fastened about his thick neck.
His knees buckled under the weight. They must have drugged him. Yet, Sit-Amun rushed to his aid and supported him.
The drumming commenced. Guards threw open the outer doors. The brilliant light of the forgotten day struck my eyes. I cringed. The light usurped the darkness. The blackness was consumed by the sun.
An anxious hush ensued as Grand Djedti Ti-Yee addressed the throng. Her face stiffened, the corners of her mouth drooped, giving the crowd no indication of the outcome. Grand Djed stumbled out. Everyone gasped. He threw up his arms and shouted, “Yah, Amun!” The throng cheered. He would reign as Pharaoh of all Khemit for another year. My parents would again have a chance to become the co-regents.
The Pharaoh descended the riser and marched back into the darkened sanctuary. His breathing labored as sweat trickled down his face.
“Thank you, my sister. I could not have made it through that ceremony without your assistance,” he said and kissed her cheek.
“I serve the Pharaoh and Khemit,” replied Sit-Amun. “Will
you honor me with your blessing to embody the role of Nekhbet, The Vulture Deity?”
Meti and I rode the golden palanquin northward through the Drome Avenue of the Sphinxes. Mother’s fingers clawed at the pillow and I kicked the floor. I yearned to comfort Meti, but she was not receptive to my embrace. Again, for the sake of my position I forced my jittery hands to be still with eyes forward, jaw lifted, and pretended to smile. Sit-Amun always ruined things.
The humidity of the Nile lingered on the thick air. Upon the peaks and crests of the undulating blue river floated multitudes of glorious barges. Might one of those exquisite boats sail to our quiet shore? Immediately, guards ushered us onto different barges. Amun, Mut and Khonsu sparkled like ornaments in a miniature barge up in the naos, so that even the peasants packed along the river could view them.
Why, if I could just have a moment with those golden deities, I could plead how important peace would be to unite Khemit. Maybe they could convince the Amunites that we all could be friends.
Per Aat Ti-Yee and her consort Pharaoh Amunhotep boarded the second barge, crowned in glory by purple tents with fine golden tassels. They sat in ornate armchairs, flanked by royal fanbearers who waved ostrich feather fans in an effort to coax the stale wind in the Royals’ direction. Emerging from the purple tent, Sit-Amun took her place at the front of the barge as the embodiment of the Vulture Deity.
“Nekhbet,” chanted the crowd. “Nekhbet. Nekhbet.”
Sit-Amun’s tripartite blue wig had each tiny braid captured in long silvery tubes. She wore the double white ostrich-plume crown that signified the wings of Nekhbet. Never had I seen a linen sheath so exquisite as Sit-Amun’s cornflower blue one. Golden discs and carnelian were sewn in elaborate patterns over the glorious cape attached to her sleeves. Inside the vulture feather lining, her wings took flight with every sweep of her arms. She took my breath away, outshining us all.
Sit-Amun’s throne looked like a golden serpent. The First Chief Royal Consort threw her arms up in victory. As her barge pulled away, the fervent jubilee had forgotten us.
Meti and I were delegated to a lesser position. Now that Sit-Amun discoveredmy secret, fear welled up again that she would flog and disgrace me. I would take my punishment. However, if she tried to throw my parents or baby sisters out of her palace, I swore I’d reveal her attempt to kill my Grand Djedti.
Enormous cheers emerged from the gatherers lining the shore.
Sit-Amun pulled a snake from a large coiled basket. She held aloft the gold painted slithering serpent. A cobra! Heaving and undulating, that thick scaled body writhed as she thrust it to the heavens.
“Meti, what does it mean?”
Mother gritted her teeth, looking forlorn. “The sacred cobra, Wadjet, represents the sister-Deity and counterpart to the vulture Deity of the Sky, She Who Flew With the Deities on High. Wadjet lives closest to the ground, She Who Moves The Earth. Sit-Amun pulled off a brilliant maneuver. The cobra maintains the well-being of the Per-Aat and Pharaoh.”
She embodied the essence of Nekhbet and her dual essence of Wadjet. Sit-Amun publicly proclaimed that she had the right to fly above the head of my mother. It displayed great cunning and fortitude. I felt sickened. We’d lost. Meti’s power was diminished. Humiliation. My potential to one day rule as Per Aat had been dashed.
Sit-Amun draped the sacred serpent about her neck and threw out her arms so that her royal robes displayed the full wings of Nekhbet. To our utter horror, she had defied all laws of the land by lining her robe with the black and white feathers of a real vulture. Nekhbet’s protective wings spread to envelop the Pharaoh and Per Aat in their most vulnerable moments of sleep and death.
A hush drew over the crowd. Sharp whispers circulated like a sandstorm. Would they accept Sit-Amun as the next Per-Aat? Did the Hanuti finally break my family’s stronghold over Khemit’s rule? A dreadful blow had been dealt to our cause, staged by a woman who had no motivation to rule other than to gain power. As the barge sailed away, I begged to go home.
“No, you will stay.”
What were we waiting for? My energy sagged. I shaded my eyes as a glorious barge sailed toward us. A crew of dozens rowed in practiced unison, pulling the barque to shore like a fisherman reeling in his prize. As it docked, the soldiers in military uniform all thrust their halberds and lances in a salute.
A bull of a man marched forward, “My Ladies, your vessel has arrived. Allow us to serve the Aten, for we pledge our allegiance to your cause.” Horemheb extended his hand, but Meti had other plans.
“Merit-Aten, we cannot present ourselves dressed in these ritual clothes. Come,” she commanded. I followed her toward a distant plain tent.
Inside, Hep-Mut popped out of a basket and said, “Did you think that I would not join you on this most auspicious day?” I ran to her arms, so joyful that the attendant of my heart was here. She opened the trunk and pulled out matching gowns of imported material. The delicate weave shimmered like raw gold. Meti’s breasts had become heavy with milk for Akhn-es-en-pa-Aten, which leaked from her brown nipples. She covered her breasts and whimpered from the pain of the swollen tissue.
An attendant tied a thick jeweled collar about her neck. Meti removed the wig from her head and her attendant powdered her skull so as not to sweat. She removed a tall, royal blue war crown from a box. It duplicated the one my father wore to signify him as the head of the military. She placed this symbolic cap upon her head. Everyone gasped.
Never before had a woman chosen to wear this cap, which signified authority and dominance over the armed forces. It would cause as much chatter as Sit-Amun’s costume.
“Are you going to wear the Kheperesh crown,” I asked in disbelief, “in front of everyone?”
“I am. Now, we must steel our inner will forces for this indeed shall cause a reaction. Be it positive or negative, I care not. The Amun priesthood deserted the soldiers. I shall carry the battle cry. But instead of wars, they shall be my battalion of peace.”
I cocked my head. “Will they fight for peace?”
“Nay, my little one. No one can fight for peace, for that would be a paradox of life. When one fights against or for anything, something will always oppose you. My battalion will be for peace. Your father will teach these castaway soldiers how to use their hands, rather than their swords, to earn their living.”
Even Captain Horemheb sucked in his breath. He watched her rise like the sun, glittering in golden hues up to the gang-plank.
I tugged her sleeve. “Where are we going, Meti?”
“We travel with Amun, Mut and Khonsu toward Denderah, to the Hathor Temple, because Hathor wishes to join with Amun for the Ritual of Love.”
“What will Mut and the Khonsu boy do while Amun is with Hathor?” I asked, hoping to speak to them alone.
She giggled and a slight blush rose on her cheeks. “They will celebrate.”
How could Hathor demand this Ritual of Love from another woman’s consort? These golden people acted so odd. If I could make this little golden boy come alive, he would understand the loneliness of royalty.
Maybe he too needed a friend.
“Will Father join us?”
“No, he had to do the Ceremony To Aten of the Noon Day Sun.”
The Sesh sank to their knees. Their eyes beheld the beauty of my mother. I smiled until I burst from the pride of being her little akh, her first-born daughter, her shadow. Special steps were created on board, which led to a high, covered platform. We took our places and set sail. Great fits of clapping and hollering ensued. Legions of men who had fought for my family for generations mingled with peasants along the shoreline.
“Hail to Nefertiti, May She Rule in Justice!”
All along the Nile, soldiers shouted. Their families paid tribute to the woman they claimed saved them from starvation. News spread. Nefertiti had arrived. All who had received her generosity could now pay back their gratitude.
Shadow of the Sun (The Shadow Saga) Page 11
