In a smaller tent designated as the dining room, a wooden table and stools were positioned in the corner so the cook could lay out bowls of cold roast duck, boiled potatoes, cooked spelt and a basket of figs. After dinner, the Imhotep, Pentu-Aten, Amaret, and my parents sat at the large table to consult a map.
“By my calculations, we have arrived at the exact center of Khemit,” said the Imhotep, Master Architect.
“Yes, according to our star map this would be a most auspicious location to erect our city to the Aten,” said Pentu, scratching his head.
“This land has good energy,” said Amaret, running her palm across the map. “How could we know until we have seen it?” asked my mother, always pragmatic. “There is nothing here. There might be better spots up river.”
“We shall know tomorrow. Let us retire tonight and see what the light of day brings. Big decisions require a well-rested mind,” said Netri.
As the others filed out, I munched some figs.
Meti stroked my father’s face, “Would you care for a game of Senet? That calms you.”
He sighed, the stroke of her perfume-scented hand soothing him. “Yes, I would love to play a round in your delightful company, my Heart.”
She arranged the pieces. “I warn you, I plan to win.”
He laughed and kissed her upon the cheek, “Well, you can always try.”
“Oh, you sly fox,” she said and tossed the throwsticks. “Aha.” She moved her lion-headed token first. “See if you can do better.”
Hearing my parents laugh, once again united in joy, made me happy. It felt most favorable being far away from the fear of Thebes. We could build a new and shining city and live in peace. When the game finished, Father offered his hand to Mother.
“I have missed you these long arduous days. In your presence, I feel satisfied. Come to me, my Heart,” he said, embracing her.
Meti flushed, perhaps from the humidity of the night. “Would you prefer to meditate or walk the land on your own tonight?” she asked with a flutter of her lashes.
“No, my Heart. My only desire is you.” He placed his arm about her delicate shoulders, their eyes joined as later their lips would be. They turned, holding hands and exited the tent.
* * *
Early the next morning the banging gong broke through the sheer fabric of our tent. Alarmed, we all rushed to see the cause of the clamor. Ankhi cried and I picked her up.
My father stared transfixed into the distance. He held out his arms and his lips parted in silent greeting. Who had arrived? A Friend or foe? The tents impaired our view, and Meti, clothed in a sheer linen wrap, ran out barefoot.
“Is it a wild animal? I thought I heard a lion sniffing around last night?”
“Your Majesty, how may we be of service?” said Pentu, brandishing his staff.
My father trembled, beguiled by what he saw. We steeled ourselves for a fright, and soldiers unsheathed their weapons, only to behold the sunrise.
Carved into the jagged cliffs, between a deep notch, a fiery orange globe rippled in the newborn desert heat like it had been pushed out of the earth’s womb. We gazed at divinity exemplified by the rising of the Aten over the horizon of our new world. The Pharaoh fell to his knees, immersed in gratitude that we all gave testament to this divine moment. It looked like ‘where the earth gives birth to the sun.’ We had found the site of our new capital.
“Akhet-Aten,” he proclaimed in ecstasy. “Truly, the power of Aten has come.” He bent in submission and kissed the ground. His eyes lit up as he raised his hands to the sun.
“The Horizon of Aten,” we chorused, and fell to our knees in worship of the absolute devotion and adornment of the new home that the Aten had decreed. All of us, except Meti.
Meti paced the perimeter of the dining tent. Her drapings, held together with only the clench of her fist, revealed the length of her right leg and buttocks with every step.
“We must mark this moment,” declared my father as he sauntered around the tent with renewed vigor. “Celebration is in order. Let it be known that we have discovered what the ancients called the birthplace of the Aten.”
The Imhotep, Pentu, Amaret, Ra-Mesu and Horemheb seated themselves around the table. The others busied themselves with conversation of how to erect a new city on this inhospitable stretch of land. Horemheb’s face flushed. His lustful gaze desired my Meti. It was clear he felt unable to contain his yearning for the flesh exposed with her furious strides.
My protective anger swelled. I desired to shelter her against his covetous eyes. That tawdry brute wished my mother bare and on her back. Nefertiti, the one blessed with the shimmer of a star that all men hoped would guide them. Oh, why General Horemheb? You, the master of men, you who control legions, can you not control your own desires?
As my HeMeti, the one who had the last word, I knew she would be horrified at the unabashed way he dishonored her in front of her subordinates. She would order the General’s head to be cut clear of his shoulders if she noticed his stolen glance.
“How long will it take to build a glorious palace?” asked Netri, oblivious to the insult.
“Years if you wish it to be built of granite, Your Majesty,” replied Imhotep. “We have not surveyed the surrounding land to see what resources are available.”
“I refuse to wait that long. How could you hasten the project? I desire to worship the Aten immediately,” said Netri. “And I shall need a majestic temple to do so.”
“If haste is your preference, we could build a suitable palace and temple out of mudbrick.”
“Mudbrick lasts the lifetime of a Pharaoh and that is adequate for a mortal man. But, the temple must last for eternity. Use granite, marble and limestone of the finest color and textures. I will not accept anything less,” directed Netri.
“Akhenaten, my Lord,” said the Imhotep with a quaver. “According to my maps, the nearest quarries are all the way up river in Aswan. If we use granite and marble, we must commission barques especially constructed to transport the heavy loads. Those will take months to finish. But, we could begin this mudbrick palace tomorrow if we bring in the local people to work.”
“Then so be it,” said Father. “Imhotep, I wish for the master masons, sculptors, and artists to be removed from all building projects in Thebes. Order them to Akhet-Aten for the creation of our new civilization. Horemheb, I require the acquisitions of all gold from the Amun Temples to be convoyed here. Move the best goldsmiths here with urgency.”
“Yes, My Lord,” replied Horemheb, his attention riveted back to the meeting.
“Imhotep, summon your draftsmen. We need to commemorate the resurrection of this birth of the holy city Akhet-Aten. Let us create a stelae of rock dedicated to the glory of this day.
“Pentu, depart with Ra-Mesu and mark the sacred borders of Akhet- Aten. Create a celestial grid map so that we can build our city according to the energetic matrices. We will structure the Holy of Holies within the open-air sanctuaries on those power points.”
“Yes, Lord Akhenaten, I have divined that we are in the cradle of the threshold of the sun as you have seen, but we are also under the rising of Vega, the cosmic sun. You have chosen our new capital well,” replied Pentu-Aten.
“I shall not claim even one rock more than I have decreed. I will reveal to you that this land was once a site sacred to an ancient solar temple that has long since fallen to dust. The Aten has asked that we restore this land of rubble.” Netri’s face glowed with the primordial light of the heavens. His intonation lifted us up to share the same dream of crafting this celestial abode consecrated to the Aten.
“Are you all mad?” asked my mother as she yanked back the tent flap to reveal the dull landscape of a baked beige cliffside overlooking the rocky lifeless dirt. “This land is as barren as a withered woman, and has clearly gone to ruination. There is no shade on the flat of this land and the desert has verily consumed all in its path. If it has not occurred to anyone, we are on the edge of summer and this
hot land will be unbearable.” She scooped up a handful of chunky rocks and wind cracked earth and flung it at our feet. “Cast your eyes upon this inhospitable dust bowl! How do you plan to build the housing for the thousands of workers needed, let alone feed and clothe them?”
“All is in order,” said Netri, reaching for her, as if he hoped his vision would rub off on her.
“It is sheer insanity to attempt this,” said Meti. “You heard the Imhotep; there are no stone quarries or trees for wood. We would have to transport massive quantities. That would cost us the treasury. Let us then consider food. Do you see any vegetation growing? It would take years to cultivate enough produce to sustain the village. We would have to import livestock and fowl in order to stay alive.” She gestured in fury. Her eyes burned like hot coals.
“My Lord, Nefertiti does have a point,” said Pentu. “Perhaps we can postpone the immediacy of this massive building project until the land is ready for a project of this magnitude.”
“Absolutely not,” declared Netri. His smile froze. The dazzling light drained from his face. “I will not be denied the opportunity to begin dedicating this land to a new way of life. On the West bank of the Nile, right across from us, the land is fertile and lush. We can establish ways to irrigate, and we can use the Nile for transportation. First, offer the soldiers an opportunity to work. They need financial relief. Offer jobs to the Amun temple workers who no longer have the means to support themselves.
“If they desire to rededicate themselves to the worship of the Aten, we shall welcome them. We need agricultural labor, accountants, tax collectors, maintenance and temple workers. When we revitalize this land, we will astound the world.”
His council immersed themselves in the idea of this gargantuan undertaking, compelled by his zealous vision. It felt like we were birthing something out of the void reminiscent of an ancient myth. His conviction consumed us, making us fear that if we scrutinized it for even one speck of sand, we would lose our nerve. Maybe it was his all-empowering belief that we could accomplish this vision that started the barques sailing. Or maybe the anguish, we would feel over his disappointment forced us to overcome all adversity.
“I refuse to live in the middle of nowhere, far from civilization,” argued Meti. “Do you think that our family could survive in the high temperatures to come? Ra-Mesu, you are a buffoon. How do you plan to provide security?” The sting of her words felt like a scorpion.
Ra-Mesu narrowed his eyes and locked his jaw.
“Your Majesty, my legions follow me anywhere. The Eastern cliffs here enclose a bay of desolate desert wadi, giving us a preferential view to thwart off any attack. Encampments will be sustained up and down river to assure security. If we give jobs to the soldiers, they will take up arms if service calls.”
“Nefertiti, you see, all is well. We have the greatest of minds formulating this plan,” said Netri.
“Will you return to Thebes or stay here while the work is done?” asked Meti with her hands on her hips.
“There is nothing left for me in Thebes. My life and devotion remain here in Akhet-Aten. My duty will be to supervise the construction of the vision given to me,” he replied.
After a moment, Meti spoke again, more calmly. “We should at least consider traveling onward North of Fayyum, or near the Temple of Heliopolis? The shore at Memphis would lend to your health. We could avoid the torturous heat while the preliminary building commences. I would consider this compromise to be most affable.”
My father stood with noble grace. “This dream must come to fruition. I cannot return to Thebes. We will create a new civilization to last for eternity. My dearest, with great adoration I promise to build you the finest palace ever made. Your features will grace the plentitude of sculptures and art decorating our city. Every path you walk will be covered in gold and the gleam will not compare to your radiant beauty. Hundreds of pools of crystalline waters will reflect your charms every time you gaze into them. Trees will shelter you in the heat, and I shall command shaded temples of worship be built so that you are never subjected to the heat which you abhor.” A tear sprang to his eye as he offered this gift of devotion.
I clapped my hands with excitement. We will be so happy here.
We turned, anticipating her joy.
“I have all of that back in the Malkata Palace,” she replied, stone-faced.
“Amun was disposed. Let us rededicate Karnak and Luxor to Aten Temples instead of moving the capital.”
Netri’s whitish skin flushed with emotion, making the divine emanation dissipate.
“You are the Per Aat. I will not hold you hostage. You are free to go back to Thebes.” He excused himself with a wave of his hand.
“Akhet-Aten is not the Horizon of the Aten,” they would say, “It is the city of the furnace.”
“We do not even need a kiln to dry our wares,” declared the protestors.
“Nay, the sun works faster than any kiln ever could,” another disparaged.
Browned bodies sank to their knees in the Nile, cursing the orange torturer in the sky as the relentless rays of summer scorched them. They tied soaked linen wraps about their heads to keep their skin moist, disappointed to be tortoise-dry not more than fifty bricks later.
Over the sand came camels, horses, and asses strapped with packs.
Charioteers raced down the concourse delivering goods to our tents. Soon, hundreds of workers heeded our call to build our city of light. Able-bodied Sesh scooped mud into the forms. At first, their sweaty skin glistened then blistered. I bore witness to their bitter complaints of grueling work in the wretched heat.
As fast as the bricks dried, tribes of Semite masons laid them in neat rows while others slathered on mortar with trowels. They worked at a frenzied pace before the adhesive dried, and rendered the bricks useless. Bit by bit, the palaces for the family and my father took shape, but the plight of the workers continued until constant squabbling broke out among them.
Day and night, barges arrived, filling the Nile and bringing in supplies. Or barges left to secure new requisitions back in Thebes filled with workers seeking medical attention. Navigators were trained to direct the barque captains from colliding. Slabs of Meketan granite and Turra limestone from the north and red granite from Aswan arrived daily. Sitting in my shaded chair, I counted the barques until I ran out of numbers. I knew I shouldn’t be out in this ugly heat, but I was bored without friends to play with.
Nearby, boys my age shot fish with slings. I squatted in the Nile to release my water while a boy next to me stood to release his.
“It would be wiser to use our hands when the sun has started its descent into the netherworld,” said a Nubian with high cheekbones.
“I would work harder at night knowing the sun was swallowed by Nut. Then I would beg her not to spit it out again,” said a toothless man with olive green eyes.
Mirages of watery pools appeared over the horizon at the apex of the sweltering noonday. Already covered in perspiration, I yearned to return to my shelter before the attendants worried. I trudged back up shore, unsure of the direction. Trying to find the stelae etched deep in the cliffs, I inched my way toward it, noting the vultures making hungry circles in the sky. The gritty wind pelted me with stinging sand. It stuck to my sweat-soaked body and razed my skin like fiery knives.
Ahead on the rocks lay a mangy corpse of a pariah dog being fought over by buzzards stripping flesh from the bone. Nausea seized me. I retched all over myself. A rush of anxiety clutched me. My stomach hurt. I couldn’t remember where to go. Both directions looked familiar. Perhaps the vultures sawme as a wild hare with nowhere to hide, maybe they smelled my fear. A buzzard swooped down.
Stop, I thought, and shielded my eyes with my hand. I am a friend.
Shadow of the Sun (The Shadow Saga) Page 25
