“Netri, I honor what you sacrificed to stay in power, but that is your way—not mine.”
Grand Djed threw up his hands and cursed, which had solidified my father’s determination.
Now, Grand Djed lay upon his westing bed with only a thin cord anchoring him to this life. My father’s soft words to his dying kin, thankfully, were kind as they bade farewell.
“Neb-Ma’at-Ra, my Father, how it sets my heart at ease to see you,” said Father. “Let it be known that Amunhotep the Magnificent will be remembered as a brave and courageous warrior for his thirty-nine year reign. Toothaches far less severe than this make younger men drop to their knees.”
Grand Djedti Ti-Yee joined the conversation and pulled Beket-Aten, their two-year old daughter, up to kiss him goodbye.
Ti-Yee kissed him on his shiny bald spot. “Yes, my beloved has indeed suffered, but he is a stubborn old goat. He shall not let this fell him.” He patted her hand.
Sit-Amun swooshed into the room with a flourish, accompanied by Mery-Ptah, Vizier Ptah-Mose, and the Hanuti High Priest, Ases-Amun. Her ornate low sheath seemed especially seductive for this day of family gathering. “Amunhotep, The Great, Hail to the Protector of all Khemit. You have surrounded yourself with wise counsel in all areas, especially medicine and architecture. This toothache will be temporary, dear Brother, but your achievements as the greatest builder of all history will survive for eternity.” She lifted her hands to the Hanuti. All of their fingernails looked black with fungus.
Ti-Yee glared while the corners of her mouth drooped into a frown. “Thank you for your tribute.”
Sit-Amun continued. “Monuments lasting forever and ever will be your crowning glory. One has only to look at the legacy you leave. Your Temples abound. Luxor and Karnak, the Temples of Mut and Amun, the Malkata Palace and your funerary temple are the grandest edifices ever made in glory to Amun.” All the while Sit-Amun circled the dying man accompanied by her black sorcerers.
“Yes, indeed, Neb-Ma’at-Ra, you will be remembered for all time,” replied my father, who started to shake and clasp his head.
I stared at the Hanuti and realized they were silently withdrawing the life-force from the Pharaoh’s body. With their eyes, they sucked away his essence.
“They are hurting him!” I threw up my hands and a blue ray enveloped Father and Grand Djed with pulsating lightning protecting them like a shield. My jaw dropped and my eyes grew large. How did I do that? Grand Djedti Ti-Yee stared in disbelief at the shield of energy pouring from my palms. “Sit-Amun, be gone and take your vermin with you.” Grand Djed gulped for air and clasped his heart. Sit-Amun cursed me. The Hanuti escaped out the door, leaving Sit-Amun to cower like a puppy.
Then she fled after them.
Father waved a hand over the dying man. “His cord is thinning too fast. I must protect his death portal or they will steal it. Those Amun vultures are circling. I can feel them waiting to pilfer his last vision. He must be Rectified before he departs this life.”
Ti-Yee wailed. “Is no one immune to this kind of evil? Do something, my son.”
My father raised his electrum staff up to the heavenly filament. The rod, covered in gold, silver and a hint of copper, throbbed in his hands as energy poured out in blinding white streams to shield the death portal above the emaciated man’s head.
Grand Djed’s eyes flew open. He pulled his trusted consort’s ear close to his lips and gasped, “You must protect it. I cannot rest until you promise. I have hidden it my whole life. If it falls into the wrong hands,” he croaked. He then flopped against the pillow, and wested with a slow death rattle.
“I promise you, Neb-Ma’at-Ra. We have protected it,” she assured him. What must be protected? A flash of a triangular shape entered my mind. I tried to probe further but Father shook his head.
The father of my Meti, Grand Djed Ay shoved through the electrum doors like a renegade bull elephant. His eye twitched and sweat poured down his face. “They tried to steal the stone last night!”
“Father, calm yourself.” Meti threw up her hands. “What stone?” Ay’s declaration was as clear as Nile mud.
Grand Djed Ay wrung his hands. “The Ben Ben stone! The Amunites penetrated the protective shield of energy that surrounds this holy object.” Mother relaxed. “Well, they did not succeed, so this is good news.”
Netri clutched his stomach. “I can feel the shift. They did not steal it but they moved the great stone off its axis.”
I tried to comfort him by stroking his face. “What happened?”
“How could they strike such a malicious blow?” asked Father.
“Pharaoh’s soul has barely left his body and the Hanuti creep in on cat feet to pilfer the Holy of Holies? The Ben Ben stone holds the energetic matrix of Khemit. It cannot be moved by even a locust leg, or the entire pattern of protection over the land is dismantled.”
“We cannot pretend to co-exist with them when they have attacked our Solar Temple at Heliopolis,” said Ay. “The savages plotted to kidnap the priests who protect the Ben Ben stone and kill The Orama.”
Netri steadied himself on his chair. “Trying to murder The Heliopolitan High Priest is an atrocity. He is one of the most revered men in Khemit.” Meket and I shivered.
Aye paced. “They beat and stabbed the other priests. The Orama pledged eternal protection for the Ben Ben, as did his father and his father’s father before him. Even so, they beat his legs.”
Netri rubbed his temples. “Where the stone was hidden was a wellguarded secret.”
I placed my hand on his knee. We’d only just returned from the funeral feast to celebrate the life of my Grand Djed. My tummy ached from the many delicacies I ate.
“Netri, what is the Ben Ben?” I asked.
Meti pushed my sister, Ankhi, from her lap and waved us away. “That is far too long of an answer right now. Perhaps you should go to bed.”
“I am not sleepy,” I replied, feeling agitated. The colors of everyone’s emotions swirled around me, and it would be impossible to sleep because my stomach churned.
“She is far too inquisitive and sensitive to the energies,” said Netri to Meti. “By right of her lineage, she needs to understand.”
Ay composed himself. “In the ancient of days, an oblong stone fell from the sky. The tale has all but faded from our memories, like cloth left too long in the sun. However, the Ben Ben lives on. The triangular capstone on the Per Neter in Giza is modeled after it.”
I stared out the window at the starry night and shivered. “The Ben Ben fell from the sky?”
“From this primeval mound of ashes emerged the sun Deity, Ra, in the form of a glorious Bennu bird,” said Ay. “This Phoenix rose from the ashes with the brilliance of the sun and alighted upon the Ben Ben stone. This represents the regeneration of life where before nothing existed.”
“The Khemitian word Sesh means the rudimentary clay vessel,” said Netri and he touched my hair. “At first we are only primitive containers before we can hold heavenly light.”
“That is correct. You will learn that one day in the Mystery School if you are deemed worthy to attend,” Ay said with hesitation as he looked at Meti. “That is where our souls are forged with fire and molded into the brilliant beings who can withstand the cosmic light that will pour in.”
Meti crossed her arms. “Father, do not fill her head with that nonsense. When Merit-Aten comes of age, she will choose the conjugal path, as I did.”
“Grand Djed Ay, what happened to the Ben Ben stone?” I asked. “They eventually dug the meteorite out of the primordial mound and erected the Sun Temple of Heliopolis on the spot where all life began.” Gooseflesh covered my arms. “Pentu goes to this Sun Temple of Heliopolis.” Magic.
“Indeed, Merit-Aten,” said Netri. “Obelisks are placed around Khemit at strategic locations to harmonize the grid we have set, and each is attuned to a different frequency. When they are all in harmony, a grand portal of Atum-Ra opens.”
My heart r
aced. “Is a portal like a door?”
“Yes, very much like a door. A door that leads you to special places.”
Netri stroked my hand, then looked at Ay. “Why did the Annubian jackals not alert us to this attack?”
Meket-Aten quit sucking her thumb to ask, “What jackals?”
“In the Temple of Heliopolis, jackals are fashioned out of pure gold,” said Ay. “But these are unique because they have All Seeing Eyes. Their duty is to scan for danger. Unfortunately, I gather from their expressions that they saw everything.”
Netri frowned. “Why did they fail to sound the alarm? The Hanuti were unable to steal our legacy, but they caused damage by moving the Ben Ben stone. I fear our grids are unstable.”
Two fortnights passed without any calamity. Late one sweltering afternoon, Grand Djedti Ti-Yee commanded that my family come to the Grand Reception Chamber to be entertained by traveling Nubian dancers. Our thrones were set in a half circle. Even my youngest sister, Ankh-es-en-pa-Aten, had a new throne, built with silly baboons appearing to hold her aloft. Grand Djed just had the room repainted, featuring beautiful barefoot musicians playing their instruments.
Like a spring breeze, Meti floated into the room upon the arm of my father, who towered above her dainty frame. Her eyes swept the audience for adoration. Indeed, her royal blue war crown, although a smaller version of my Father’s, made them both appear regal and mysterious. Did the Sesh now bow down to her new authority? My father broke Khemitian precedence and declared Meti would equal him in all aspects of power and oversee the Gem-pa-Aten. Even her statues were carved the same size as his. The Sesh were properly awed.
Sit-Amun and Mery-Ptah studied her with disdain from their seats in the back row. Even though Sit-Amun was banished, she still had to make appearances whenever Grand Djedti snapped her fingers. My skin prickled with gooseflesh. Meket and I turned to stare. Sit-Amun removed an ebony stick from her short wig with the intricate lotus blossom crown encircling it accented by double golden gazelle heads. She toyed with the ebony stick, passing it through her fingers like a tumbling acrobat. Ankhi stood on her chair and stuck her tongue out at Sit-Amun.
I frowned and admonished the toddler. When I peeked back to see if Ankhi had incurred Sit-Amun’s wrath, The First Chief Royal Wife snapped that stick in half, warning us with her owl eyes. We all quaked.
My parents, unaware of our actions, greeted Grand Djedti Ti-Yee and Beket-Aten who had the same almond shaped eyes and broad nose as her mother, the Per Aat.
“Nefertiti, have you ordered an extra brew of beer for the tribute?” asked Grand Djedti Ti-Yee with a wrinkle of her nose. “I did not care for the red wine you chose for the vassal banquet. Try the red from my vineyard next time; you will find it more robust.”
Mother tugged her earring. “Yes, Your Majesty. I shall see to it.”
“Akhenaten, my son, you must reply to the many correspondences from Tushratta, King of Mitanni,” said Ti-Yee. “He has requested gold time and time again.”
“Yes, I apologize. I was laboring on the completion of my father’s mortuary temple, your tombs, and the ordering of the new statuary.” Netri administered all architectural duties. Although Grand Djedti pleaded for him to attend to his required political duties, my father had no interest.
The Great Per Aat Ti-Yee signaled the commencement. The Nubians beat many kinds of drums, some with their hands and others with sticks.
A group of dark-skinned drummers beat clay pots open on the bottom with thin membranes pulled taut over the tops. From behind them emerged men who clapped. At first they mirrored the rhythm of the drums but then two different harmonies flowed into three separate beats.
Oh, the joy of this. Meket and I imitated them. I glanced at Ankhi. My sister stood back up on her throne and crossed her eyes and again stuck her tongue out at Sit-Amun. A group of young women in cheerful threaded sheaths skipped forth, playing end-blown flutes called ‘nays’, which added to the festive atmosphere. Instead of enjoying the flute players, I yanked Ankhi back down into her seat. Then I sunk into mine.
I knew Sit-Amun would be angry. She hated to be mocked. Whenever the Pharaoh teased his younger sister by commenting about her large hands, Sit-Amun would fume.
Beneath my feet, below the limestone floor, a terrible rumbling emerged. Could it be the clang of the cymbals or thump of the drums reverberating within me? Then with an excruciating grinding sound, the southern wall of the Palace was ripped apart. My horror bit like an asp. The dancers shrieked, drummers scattered, hands above heads, shielding themselves from the blue faience ceiling tiles which pelted us. The colorful painting of the dancers cracked and bits of their faces or bodies crashed to the floor.
“Earthcrack. Everyone out into the open,” Netri commanded. “Come, Merit and Meket.”
He jerked us by the hand and lumbered toward the door. The earthcrack tossed us like a wave from one pillar to the next. Jolted into a stone statue, I screamed from the sharp pain to my arm.
Meti waved. “Meet us outside. I have Ankhi!” The ground heaved in ripples and hurled Mother backward. Ankhi fell to the floor and broke into hysterics. I shook free from Netri and struggled toward my scared sister. Finally, I hoisted Ankhi up and ushered her to safety while Father went back for Meti.
The courtyard, now a skirmish of madness, rose up in jagged teeth of granite. The loud snaps and the rolling movement left me seasick. A deep fissure in the limestone floor divided, causing dancers to tumble into the raw splitting earth.
A thick granite column tore away from the ceiling and swung over a huddled crowd. Then a massive stone statue of Grand Djed teetered off its base, crushing Ankhi’s tiny throne. Plaster ripped away from the walls, furniture lay in golden heaps, and the fresh painted frescos shattered. The ground opened up before us like an angry mouth ready to swallow us alive.
The earthcrack receded with the same swiftness as it had started. The ensuing quiet became deafening.
Children whimpered. For a beat of a wing, unsure if the danger passed, or if something even more disastrous lay ahead, the fear ate at me. An earthcrack.
Meket and Ankhi clung to my parents. Mothers cried out to their lost young. Confusion. Chaos. Danger.
Grand Djedti sobbed, “I cannot find Beket-Aten.”
“My son is gone,” cried out another mother with skinned knees.
“I shall find them,” answered my father.
“Wait,” I pleaded, but he disappeared into the disastrous chamber room. I fled after him jumping over the cracked floor now littered with debris. People fell and cut themselves. Through the pandemonium, I located Netri who tried to coax Beket-Aten out from underneath her throne.
She refused. A second column teetered overhead. With only the slightest jolt the child and Netri would be crushed.
“Please, Beket.” I offered a hand but she shook her head. “Come out. You can make it.” I reached toward her. “We can go together.” With her little hand in mine, we ran to the courtyard where Grand Djedti scooped her up. I looked back for Father, and saw him struggling to move a piece of fallen granite that blocked a dancer.
I ran to him. “Netri, this is too heavy for you. We will never be able to lift it.”
I glanced around for help. Sit-Amun rocked Mery-Ptah in her arms. She ripped a swatch of her gown to tend a cut on his face. Their love and desire for each other made me envious. People ran through the room in chaos. There was no one to ask for help.
Netri looked at me with great sorrow, unwilling to leave the trapped dancer. He turned to me and said, “We can use the Nubian sounds to move it. Merit-Aten, imitate me.”
Netri began with unintelligible chanting that made echoes within his mouth. I did my best to imitate the same tones. Nothing happened. I felt deflated. “I cannot do it.”
Shadow of the Sun (The Shadow Saga) Page 15
