The Amarnan Kings, Book 1: Scarab - Akhenaten

by Overton, Max

  "I am glad, husband. It is not proper that Aten's temple should be next to that of the false god Amun."

  Besenmut caught his breath, not daring to even glance at his king and queen. He offered a silent prayer to Amun then stared straight ahead at the backs of his horses' heads. After a few moments, as the king gave no sign of wanting to alight, Besenmut shook the reins and turned the chariot once more down the Royal Road.

  The road passed a number of small houses next to the great temple complex and a smaller stone building on the right. Next to it rose the foundations of another huge stone edifice. Though smaller than the Great Temple, it dwarfed all the other buildings.

  "Another temple." Waenre nodded to his right. "And of course, the lesser priests need homes too. Then the royal palace."

  The road narrowed abruptly as if a wall of mud bricks had been thrown across the open space. Besenmut slowed the chariot to a walk and steered for a gap in the wall.

  "Is this right?" Nefertiti asked. "Does the road come to an end here?"

  Waenre chuckled. "No beloved. On the right is the palace and on the left is the king's house. The two are joined by this great bridge so we will never have to go outside to get from one to the other."

  "A bridge?"

  "Yes, with a covered walkway on the top. In the middle there will be a room with windows facing out over the Royal Road in both directions. I call them the Windows of Appearance where we can show ourselves to the people."

  Nefertiti clapped her hands with delight and hugged her husband again. In full sight of the people in the street she leaned close and kissed him, running her hands over his nearly naked body. He responded enthusiastically, leaving Besenmut to thread the chariot through the gaps in the bridge brickwork, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. The fan-bearer knew his job and kept the ostrich plumes firmly in place above the royal heads, his eyes carefully averted.

  They emerged into the open road again and Besenmut picked up the pace, dust once more billowing in their wake as pedestrians scattered. Waenre gave Nefertiti a last lingering kiss, his hand still stroking her breast then pointed out the sights again.

  "The river lies to the right here. I have planned a large garden for the common people. It is not enough that we enjoy the beauty of Aten, the common people also must see that all beautiful things come from the god." He turned to his driver. "Is that not so, Besenmut?"

  Besenmut inclined his head. "Indeed, my lord king. The needs of the common people are quite simple. Food, and shelter, and the protection of ..." He faltered a moment before finishing. "... of the king."

  Waenre frowned, catching the brief hesitation. "Poverty is always among us, Besenmut. Yet even the hungriest peasant can appreciate the beauty of the living Aten. I shall plant gardens filled with ponds and shade trees and flowering plants and incense bushes where even the lowliest person may contemplate beauty during his rest."

  "What rest?" Besenmut muttered. "And I'm sure they would rather have public gardens planted with radishes and lettuce." Louder he merely said, "A most generous gesture, my lord. All of Akhet-Aten will praise your name."

  "Turn left here, Besenmut. Head for the cliffs."

  The chariot veered, threading through a warren of side streets filled with pedestrians. The buildings here were low and made of mud daubed over brick and wattle, many occupied and all seemingly advertising some form of trade. Nefertiti saw shops displaying cloth, jewelry and pottery before the chariot exited on the landward side of the city. The high cliffs reared up in front of them, the sun just short of noon not yet lighting the sheer rock face. Waenre pointed up at the creviced and shadowed wall of rock.

  "My quarrymen tell me there are many good tomb-sites up there for the overseers and senior officials."

  Nefertiti raised a hand to shade her eyes and scanned the cliff. "And royal tombs?"

  Waenre shook his head. "There is a better place." He tapped Besenmut on the arm and gestured north.

  As the chariot moved north once more, bouncing and clattering over the sand and loose rock at the foot of the cliffs, they passed a workmen's village ringed by a high brick wall. Beyond it, the cliffs receded to the northeast, dipping into a great dry valley that plunged back into the dry heart of the desert. Besenmut turned the chariot into the stream bed and guided the horses carefully and slowly to the east. The valley narrowed rapidly and before long, Besenmut stopped the chariot.

  "I will have to stop here, my lord, else I will not be able to turn the horses."

  "Very well." Waenre jumped down and helped Nefertiti to descend also. "Wait here. We will not be long."

  "My lord, you should not go alone."

  "Why not? What hand would be raised against me in all of Kemet? I am the son of Aten. He shines down upon me and protects me."

  "At least take the fan-bearer, my lord," Besenmut pleaded. "Not...not as protection but as an attendant upon the queen." He gestured and the fan-bearer jumped down, his fan held over the royal heads once more.

  Waenre grunted and nodded, then, turning his back, strolled up the narrowing streambed, his hand in his wife's. The fan-bearer hurried after them, struggling to hold his fan aloft. Within fifty paces the way became rougher and they slowed, the king helping his wife over the boulders until they stood on a patch of sandy gravel looking up at a shadowed cliff in a small side stream. Halfway up the steep stone side, darkness hinted at the presence of a cave.

  "There is our future tomb, beloved. My masons tell me the cave itself only extends ten paces into the cliff but the rock is hard and sound. It can easily be extended into galleries and rooms. A few years and our eternal abode will be assured."

  They turned and started back down the stream bed. Besenmut had turned the horses and was feeding them a handful of grain each from a small bag tied to the side of the chariot. He looked up as the king approached.

  "All is well, my lord?"

  "Of course. As I said it would be." Waenre helped Nefertiti up, then climbed into the chariot himself, waiting while the fan-bearer and Besenmut positioned themselves. "Back to the docks."

  They rode in silence as they exited the notch of Aten and headed northwest across the plain toward the north suburbs of the city. As they neared the first mud brick houses, Waenre pointed off to the right, at the cliffs.

  "There is another good site for tombs up there. As important as Akhet-Aten will become, we cannot have too many tomb sites for the court officials."

  "And what of the common people?" Nefertiti asked.

  Waenre shrugged. "They will do as they always do. The desert is vast and they will bury their dead in the sands."

  The chariot bounced over deep ruts, almost unbalancing the king before turning north onto the Royal Road again. They sped past the North Palace and turned toward the docks and the royal barge.

  ***

  Anhai, Tia and Kawit, the nurses of the three young princesses, walked down the gangplank with their charges as the royal chariot disappeared in a cloud of dust toward the Royal Road. With them went a squad of soldiers under the command of Zemti, Leader of Five, the tall young Nubian. Tia and Kawit hurried ahead with their princesses, the soldiers dressed in their short red-dyed kilts trotting alongside them, spears in hand. Anhai dropped back with princess Meryetaten to talk to the handsome young Nubian Zemti.

  "I see you, Anhai," Zemti said.

  "And I you." Anhai grinned then leaned across and smacked the young man on his firmly-muscled buttock.

  Zemti's eyes widened and he danced back a step before resuming his fast walk. He glanced at the interested face of princess Meryetaten. "Be cautious, Anhai. The young one ..."

  "The young one knows when to keep quiet, don't you, my pet?" Anhai squeezed the princess' hand. "She loves me like a mother, particularly when I buy her sweetmeats." She winked at Meryetaten.

  "Yes, Anhai." Meryetaten looked up at the young soldier trotting alongside them. "Are you and Anhai going to lie together?"

  "Where did you hear such nonsense?" Anhai exclaimed.
"That is not a proper subject for the ears of a young princess."

  Meryetaten shrugged and smiled. "Tia and Kawit were talking this morning. They say Zemti has a very big thing. Do you, Zemti?" She peered at his brief kilt with interest.

  Zemti rolled his eyes. He pointed to where his squad was pushing through a small crowd of people around one of the shops in the north suburb. "We must join them," he rumbled.

  Anhai dragged her charge over to the other nurses and looked over their shoulders at the shop front. A man, his attire plainly indicating he was an artisan of some worth, was talking about his wares, laid out on trestle tables behind him.

  "Gather round, good people." The man looked across at the squad of soldiers, recognizing the palace insignia bound around their left biceps. His eyes flickered across the three young women and the small girls. He smiled. "I can see we have someone from the palace here today. Give them room, good people."

  The crowd muttered and grumbled but edged away, allowing Anhai and the others closer, the soldiers standing in a group around them.

  "My name is Nesmut, good ladies," said the man. "I am an artisan and glass dealer, newly up from Waset where I have a thriving business. However, once I knew that the people up this way appreciated beautiful things, I knew I should bring my wares up here." He gestured at the trestle tables behind him.

  "Observe, if you will, the cunning ways that I have combined gold, silver and copper threads with wonderful pieces of pure-coloured glass that are indistinguishable from gem stones. My partner in Waset, one Ahhotep the glassmaker, has recently perfected a technique of making the most beautiful deep blue glass." He picked up a necklace of woven copper threads set with beads of deep blue and green glass, holding it out to Tia. "Hold that against your skin, lovely lady...ah, yes, see how the tone of your beautiful skin sets off the colours. It was made for you."

  Tia tittered and preened, holding it against her throat and turning to the others. Anhai clenched her fists while voicing her admiration. She reached out and almost snatched the necklace from the other nurse, holding it against her own throat.

  "What do you think, Zemti?" she murmured. "Would you not want to see me in this? Perhaps only this?"

  Zemti flared his nostrils and shifted his posture awkwardly. "How much?" he growled at the shop keeper.

  Nesmut flicked his eyes from the soldier to the young woman, then to the young girls, considering. "Normally, a fine piece like this would fetch ten, maybe fifteen copper pieces." He lifted a hand as muffled groans of disappointment broke out from several women. "However, seeing as how the piece is destined for the palace, I will let it go for five. I make no profit on it at that price but ..." he shrugged.

  "Two," said Zemti.

  Nesmut laughed. "Come, soldier. You may be used to looting foreign lands but we are loyal subjects of the king. Four."

  "Three," Zemti countered.

  Nesmut thought hard. The copper thread and glass beads had cost him two copper pieces, and several hours work. "Agreed. However, you must tell everyone who admires it that it came from the shop of Nesmut the jeweler in North Suburb."

  Zemti dug in a small pouch at his waist and passed over three copper pieces. Ignoring the look of hatred from Tia, Anhai fastened the necklace and twirled, grinning. The other women in the crowd jostled around the tables, admiring the other pieces. Nesmut immediately started bargaining, his attention diverted from the palace party.

  Tia and Kawit turned away with a sniff of disdain, dragging their girls with them. The other soldiers, at a nod from Zemti, moved off after them.

  "It is beautiful, Zemti. Thank you."

  Zemti nodded again, his eyes fixed on the beautiful green and blue gems lying between Anhai's bronzed breasts. "You will see me tonight?"

  "Of course, my strong one," Anhai purred. "When I have put the young princess to bed this evening. Where will I meet you?

  "By the gangplank. We can walk along the riverbank."

  Meryetaten tugged on Anhai's dress. "What about my sweetmeats?"

  Anhai smiled down at the little princess, putting a hand on the girl's shaven head, stroking her side lock. "Come then, let us find you a treat."

  Meryetaten walked beside her nurse and looked across at the tall young Nubian striding alongside. She stared wide-eyed at his kilt. "Zemti. You are getting bigger. Why is that?"

  Return to Contents

  * * *

  Chapter Eight

  "I've seen you before, haven't I? You're No-name."

  The little girl looked up from where she watched a cluster of ants dragging a dead grasshopper toward their nest. Still kneeling, she looked at the naked boy standing by the lotus pond. She regarded him with inquisitive but cautious eyes. After a moment, she nodded. "I have a name now. I'm called Scarab."

  "Scarab? That's a strange name for a girl. Why are you called that?" He came closer and stood over the girl, looking down at the insects. He nudged the grasshopper with a toe, sending the ants into a frenzy of activity.

  "Don't do that," snapped Scarab. "I'm watching them."

  The boy grinned. "Is that why you are called Scarab? Because you watch beetles?"

  "The king called me that. I think he wants me to marry the god."

  "Which god?"

  "Khepri of course, the scarab."

  The boy nodded and squatted beside the little girl, watching as the ants resumed their task of dragging the grasshopper. He reached out a finger to disturb them, then hesitated and drew it back. "You probably will marry a god when you are older, Scarab, but not Khepri. It is more likely you will be God's Wife to the king."

  Scarab made a face. "Ugh, he is an old man. Besides, he has a wife already."

  "Nefertiti?" He shrugged. "The king is allowed many wives and it is common practice in our house for kings to marry their sisters. Maybe I'll marry you instead."

  Scarab sat back on her heels and contemplated the small boy for a while. "Who are you? I've seen you, of course, but you don't usually play with the babies ..." She flushed and added "... younger children."

  The boy grinned. "I'm your brother Smenkhkare. Well, half-brother anyway, though my grandmother is also your mother. I suppose you could say you are my aunt also."

  Scarab nodded. "Yes, your mother Sitamen is my older sister."

  Smenkhkare looked away, his eyes glistening. "Was your sister, little Scarab. She has been in the house of embalming for this past month." For a few moments, his shoulders shook with grief.

  The girl looked down, her face twisted into a frown. She reached out and touched Smenkhkare's arm. "I'm sorry. At least she will be with the gods."

  Smenkhkare wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, then pinching his nostrils with his fingers, blew hard and wiped his fingers on the ground. "Look," he said, pointing at the ants. "They are just like the men pulling blocks of stone to the temples." He laughed, his previous thoughts forgotten. "Except the ants are pulling in more than one direction."

  "I've never seen men pulling stones. Where was this?"

  "At the new temple of the Aten. You know the one?"

  Scarab shook her head. "I've never been outside the palace and the gardens here."

  Smenkhkare raised his eyebrows. "Really? I go all the time. More these last few weeks ..." His voice trailed off and he stared at the ground again. "My nurse and tutor are too busy to watch me. I like to go off by myself."

  "Where to?"

  "The city, the temples. I like talking to people and finding out what they do. I think a king should know about the common people."

  Scarab gaped. "A king? But you are not a king."

  "Of course not, silly girl. But I might be one day. My brother Amenhotep has only daughters. If he does not have a son, I may yet be king."

  "That's not fair. Why can't a woman be king?"

  "Because kings are men, silly. A woman can be a queen though. If I become king I shall marry you and make you my queen and we shall rule Kemet together."

  Scarab laughed. "King Smen
khkare and Queen Scarab!"

  "Well, we will have to find you another name by then. Perhaps you will grow into a beautiful woman and we can call you Neferkhepre--Beautiful Scarab."

  "My mother says our father wanted to call me Beketamen, but couldn't 'cos he got sick. That's why I didn't have a name."

  "That's a nice name. Maybe we can call you that when you get older?" Smenkhkare fell silent and for several minutes they watched the ants try to haul the dead grasshopper into the nest. When they started to dismember the grasshopper and take pieces in, he looked across at his little sister.

  "Do you want to come into the city with me?"

  Scarab's eyes grew round. "You want me to come?"

  "If you want. I could show you the temple where I saw the stone blocks being dragged. It's not far. Come on." Smenkhkare leapt to his feet and started walking past the lotus pond, in the direction of the walled orchard.

  Scarab raced after him. "Wait," she cried. "What if the nurses won't let me go?"

  "Huh. Do you think we are going to ask them? I just go whenever I want. I know a way out of the garden."

  Smenkhkare led the way into the carefully tended orchard. Several gardeners were weeding and hoeing the soil around fig and pomegranate trees. Others were pruning the vines tied to a trellis fence. The children avoided looking at any of the adults and walked quickly and purposefully toward the far end. "This way," Smenkhkare said. "We have to go round behind the house of Her-uben, the Head Gardener. He's all right once you ..."

  "Boy!" A deep voice rang out from the doorway of the house by the orchard wall. An old man limped out, supporting himself on a staff. "Oh, it's you again. Off on another of your jaunts?"

  "Yes, Her-uben. With your permission of course."

  "With my permission? Don't be a fool, boy. If they find out I'm letting you wander in the city unsupervised, the chamberlain will have me whipped, despite my age. Not that I could stop you, young Smenkhkare. Just don't tell them I let you past if they catch you."

  "I won't, sir."

  Her-uben nodded, before fixing Scarab with a piercing look. "And who is this young girl? Anyone I should know about?"