The Amarnan Kings, Book 1: Scarab - Akhenaten

by Overton, Max

  Mosquitoes and biting flies flourished as the flood waters spread, particularly in the Delta region, but unless you had to work in the fields or in the great reed beds, they were not particularly bothersome. In the cities, the breezes from the deserts tended to discourage flying insects, though others crawled and crept into houses. The waters sent snakes and scorpions seeking higher, dryer ground and the months of Athyr and Khoyak saw many people bitten and stung. Those who could afford it treated their afflictions with a variety of physical remedies and prayer. Those who couldn't just prayed to the gods. Generally, people recovered unless the gods failed to listen to their prayers. The gods heard about as many prayers as they always did.

  The waters receded as usual and Peret, the time of sowing, gripped Kemet. An early planting was essential for a good crop, allowing the plants time to grow before the heat and drought made life a struggle. The wheat fields burgeoned, promising a good harvest, as the year turned past the solstice and the festivities that welcomed the growth of the sun once more were especially fervent. Shemu, the time of harvest, arrived, and in the month of Payni, just after the equinox, further good news gladdened the hearts of all.

  The old king Nebmaetre Amenhotep, all but dead these past five years, returned to life. Palace officials, those close to the royal chambers or who waited on the old king and his still active wife Tiye, had long been aware of the king's slow recovery. Struck down by an unknown malady that made his limbs weak, his speech slurred, and his mind wander, he lay on his great gilded bed, on sheets of the finest linen. Unable to rise, even to clean himself, the king suffered the indignity of being tended like a helpless baby, being washed and fed by trusted body servants. The queen too, danced attendance on her husband, caring for him and tending him with her own hands whenever she could take time from the government of Waset.

  Officially never more than Queen, Tiye was in truth ruler of the Two Lands for the first six months of her husband's illness. The young prince Amenhotep, raised to the co-regency four years before his father's illness, and following the death of his elder brother, had ruled over Lower Kemet from Zarw with the help of a roomful of advisors. Truth be told, the young king and his beautiful young wife had little interest and less aptitude for rulership, being interested only in beauty and pleasure. When however, after half a year, Tiye could see that the great Nebmaetre was not going to recover soon, she took counsel with her brother Ay and the Tjaty Ptahmose. They decided that Kemet needed a king who could be seen to be king. There was no choice but to bring Waenre Amenhotep south to Waset and crown him full regent to act in his father's stead.

  Then on that blessed day in the month of Payni, seven days after the equinox, Nebmaetre Amenhotep's eyes held intelligence once more. He turned his head to the servant gently cleansing his body with rose-scented water and spoke with slurred but intelligible words.

  "'Ere iss my 'ife?"

  Queen Tiye came at a run, forsaking her usual queenly demeanor, on hearing the news. She burst into the king's chamber, her brother Ay on her heels to find her husband, naked, sitting on the edge of his bed and staring round the room in bewilderment, a knot of servants kneeling around him.

  "My husband," cried Tiye. "The gods be praised for your recovery."

  Amenhotep stared at her, his brow knotted as he struggled to find words that meant something to him. "'Ere iss my 'ife? 'Ere iss Isset? I marry her, 'y iss sshe not 'ere?"

  Tiye said nothing, turning to her brother with an enquiring expression.

  Ay pondered a moment, then addressed the king.

  "My lord, the Lady Iset is in the women's quarters as is proper. Do you wish her sent for?"

  "Of coursse. It iss our... 'edding night. Her place iss 'ith me."

  "He thinks it is the day he married his daughter Iset," Ay murmured. "He has no memory of the last five years."

  Tears brimmed in Tiye's eyes as she looked at her husband as he strove to rise. She glided forward and, putting a hand under the king's elbow, helped him to his feet, steadying him as he swayed.

  "Fetch Iset," Tiye said to one of the servants. "Tell her what has transpired and escort her to the king's bedchamber. Go. At once."

  "What are you doing?" Ay asked.

  "The king's wishes." Tiye led Amenhotep slowly across the room and sat him down in a carved chair, letting him slump against the backrest. She crossed to a table and poured a golden goblet full of water before bringing it back to her husband, helping him to drink. He sat, afterward, his mouth open and tongue lolling, a trickle of water escaping his mouth and dribbling over his hairless chest.

  "I repeat, what are you doing?"

  "Brother, the king has recovered from his malady." Tiye lowered her voice and approached Ay. "If he believes no time has passed, perhaps that is because where he was; no time has in fact passed. Who knows what happens with the gods."

  "That is foolishness," Ay hissed. "The king has been ill, struck down by the gods. I have seen it in lesser men; it is a sickness, not a sign of the god's favor. Men seldom recover from this sickness and never for long." He jerked his head in the king's direction. "Look at him, sister. His body is wasted, and his mind is not there. The god is not present."

  "Nevertheless," Tiye said, steel creeping into her voice. "He is my husband and the king. We will do as he wishes. If he says no time has passed, then none has."

  "And what of the young king, Waenre, down in his new city of Akhet-Aten. Is he to be informed that the last five years did not take place? Will you remove the double crown of Kemet from his head?"

  Tiye shook her head. "What is done cannot be undone. Nor would I wish it, Waenre is my son. However, Nebmaetre is also the king. We must obey him."

  "And when he finds out that Kemet lies weakened under the rule of his son? Will he not seek to take the power into his own hands again?"

  "Ah, I see your problem, brother. If my husband takes charge once more you lose what power you have over my son."

  Ay looked away with a muttered curse. "I will not be thwarted in this, sister," he whispered. He gripped the queen's arm and pulled her round to face the old king as he sat drooling and humming in the gilded chair. "Look at him, Tiye. Even if he really has recovered, he is an old man. How long can he last? Waenre, with me as his support, is the future of Kemet."

  Voices came from the hall outside the king's bedchamber. The king's second daughter-wife Iset entered the room, her short-cut hair visible beneath her wig as she hurried in. She straightened her wig with one hand, tugging at her robes with the other, her expression panicked as her father called out, the word slurred and unintelligible. Catching sight of her mother she hurried over to her, her eyes wide.

  "Mother. What has happened? Is that...is that truly the king? What does he want?"

  "Iset, my child. The king has awoken from his sickness and believes no time has passed. For him, it is your marriage day."

  The young woman turned with an expression of horror. "What...what does he want of me?"

  "He wants to consummate his marriage," Ay growled. "You were chosen as God's Wife five years ago and you didn't seem to mind then. Why now?"

  "I was young and...and I obeyed like a good daughter. Now I...Please, uncle, help me. He cannot ask this of me."

  Tiye looked at her daughter carefully, noting the way her hands shielded her breasts. "You have fallen in love, daughter. Who is he?"

  "Love," sneered Ay. "You are a royal princess; you do not 'love'. Besides which, niece, you are married, or had you forgotten?"

  "It has been five years, mother," Iset wailed. "Father was never going to recover but I was just sitting around the women's quarters. What harm would it do if I looked for another?"

  "Just looking? Or has it gone further? Who is it?" Tiye's voice hardened.

  "There is nobody, mother, just a young noble I have spoken with. I will not speak his name. He is young and is of a good family. It is a good match. Please mother, intercede with the king, ask him to release ..."

  Tiye's hand
slapped Iset's face with a crack that rocked her head back. "Silence, girl. There is no good match for you. You are God's Wife, so spread your legs and do your duty. If the gods will it so, perhaps you will produce a son to be your father's pride in his old age."

  Iset dissolved into sobs, her shoulders shaking. Tiye took her daughter and held her, patting her back and stroking her bare arms. "Hush child. Anyone would think you had been sold as a slave to a hard master. This is your father, Iset, and he loves you. Do not shame him." By degrees the crying lessened and Tiye led the woman over to the seated man.

  Amenhotep looked up at the approaching women and smiled. "Tiye," he said. "And 'oo iss thiss?"

  The queen smiled back. "My beloved husband, I greet you and thank the gods for your renewed health." She gripped her daughter's shoulders and pushed her forward. "This is your daughter-wife Iset, whom you called for."

  Amenhotep nodded and struggled to his feet. "Isset, of course, my child. You are bew...bew...tiful." He looked around the bedchamber with a puzzled expression. "'Ey iss the bed not pre...pre...made with rose petalss and lotuss blossomss for my bride?"

  Tiye hesitated. "It was on your orders, my lord. Do you not remember you changed your mind?"

  Amenhotep shook his head. "I did? I do not 'member." He looked back at Iset, his eye traveling over her body. His member swelled slowly. "No matter. Come then 'ife. It is time."

  Tiye pushed Iset forward and the young woman stumbled before catching herself. She quivered, and after a quick glance of entreaty at her mother, smiled tremulously at her tumescent father.

  Ay clapped his hands and ushered the remaining servants from the room. "We will leave you then, my lord. May you have great happiness on your wedding day." He put out his hand to the queen. "Sister?"

  Amenhotep turned from where he was running his hands over his new wife. He looked hard at Ay. "Thank you, er...thank you."

  Ay escorted his sister from the room and closed the double doors behind them. "You would have me be loyal to this man," he snarled as the doors shut with a hollow thud. "He did not even know who I was."

  "No, brother. I would have you remember that he is the anointed king of the Two Lands, consecrated into Amun. Your loyalty is between you and the gods--and the gods will judge you on it."

  Ay fell silent. They walked slowly through the wide halls of the king's palace toward the queen's palace and the women's quarters. Servants bowed and backed away as they approached, fleeing as soon as they had passed. "There is another matter," he said at last. His sister looked questioningly at Ay, but did not speak.

  "Our young king Amenhotep wants to change his name. To honour his new god, he says."

  Tiye stopped and turned to look at her brother. "Does that matter?"

  "Use your head, sister," Ay growled. "He was consecrated as king under the name Amenhotep, by the priests of Amun, under the protection of Amun. If he changes his name it could be argued that he is no longer king."

  Tiye laughed until she caught Ay's expression and her laughter drained away. "Are you serious? How can anyone say my son Amenhotep, no matter what he calls himself, is not king? You were there, Ay. You saw the priests consecrate him, not the name. How can the name matter?"

  "I could wish you had spent more time learning about the gods of Kemet rather than interesting your husband in this esoteric god of the Khabiru. It is his meddling that is the root of the problem." Ay guided his sister over to a divan on an open balcony overlooking the palace gardens. He dismissed the ever-present servants and looked round carefully to make sure no-one was in earshot.

  "Your husband stirred things up by elevating the god Aten to a prominent position. As long as your El or Adon was only a god of a subject people--yes, yes, I know what I am--it was of no great concern. Even the previous king, Tuthmosis, who raised our father Yuya to Tjaty, only paid lip service to this god. It was Amenhotep who identified him as our Aten, and to please you, elevated him from a minor god to the place he now holds." Ay pushed his sister down on the divan and stood over her, legs astride and fists on hips.

  "What were you thinking of?" he barked. "Aten is but an aspect of Re, one of the most powerful gods, but Amun is the god of Per-Aa, the Great House--your husband's family. His ancestors saw the necessity of wedding the two gods into Amun-Re so their house was seen to have the blessings of the whole pantheon, but you have upset that."

  Tiye, drew back, startled by her brother's vehemence. "What are you talking about? How are things upset? Amun is still the god of Waset and my husband's family."

  Ay turned and walked over to the balcony and stared down into the gardens. He watched idly as two small children, a boy and a younger girl, emerged from under a tamarind tree and ran off in the direction of the orchard. "As long as Nebmaetre was content to worship the Aten as just one of many gods, there was no problem. Other kings have been infatuated with one god or another but have never let it interfere with the balance, the Ma'at of Kemet. However, when your son Tuthmosis died and Waenre was made co-regent, you and your husband made a fatal error." Ay turned and rested against the stone balustrade, looking at his sister. "You sent Waenre to Zarw, where he was surrounded by our kinsfolk, all Khabiru, all worshipers of Adon. A father's infatuation became a son's mania."

  Tiye frowned and shifted on the divan. She plucked at her robe, smoothing out the creases. "Mania? That is too strong. He is young and idealistic, I grant ..."

  "What do you call it when he does away with the other gods and only worships the Aten?"

  "What? He has not done that."

  "The signs are there, sister. Already he has insulted Amun by robbing him of his wealth to pay for temples to Aten. Next he moves his capital from Waset, the city of Amun, to this Akhet-Aten, the city of Aten. Now he wants to change his name from Amenhotep to Akhenaten, 'He who is useful to the Aten'. Is this not mania?"

  "It is worrying," Tiye said doubtfully. "But surely his advisors will guide him to appropriate action?"

  "What advisors?" A note of bitterness crept into Ay's voice. "I am his principal advisor yet he hardly even listens to what I say, let alone act on it. He prays to Aten and follows the advice of his heart and his wife, my oh-so-obedient daughter Nefertiti."

  "I still think you are making too much of this, brother. Waenre named his daughters for the Aten after all--Meryetaten, 'Beloved of Aten', Meketaten, 'Protected by Aten' and Ankhesenpaaten, 'Living through the Aten'. I did not hear you making any great objection to those names."

  "They are only girls. What does it matter what girls are called?"

  Tiye sniffed loudly. "It is still only a name. How does this...this name Akhenaten change things?"

  "I thirst," Ay muttered. He strode to the end of the balcony and bellowed down the hallway. "Wine. Bring wine." He listened for a moment to be sure someone was hurrying to obey him before turning back to Tiye.

  "Your son was crowned king of the Two Lands as Neferkheperure Waenre Amenhotep, which as you know means 'Beautiful are the manifestations of Re, the Unique One of Re, Amun is at Peace'. A good and praiseworthy name for a king, one that balances praise to Re and to Amun. A priest of Amun anointed him into Amun's peace and most importantly ..." Ay broke off as a servant ran onto the balcony carrying an ebony wood tray with two golden goblets and a pitcher of river-cooled wine. Ay noted the beads of condensation on the outside of the golden pitcher and licked his lips in anticipation.

  The servant placed the tray on a low table, poured the wine and, with a bow, handed the goblets first to the queen, then to Ay. He backed away and stood quietly by the far wall, his attention pointedly fixed away from his masters.

  "Get out," Ay said quietly. He waited until the servant left before sipping at the rich dark wine. "Most importantly," he went on as if there had been no interruption. "Do you remember the phrase the Hem-netjer of Amun used during the ceremony when the double crown was placed on your son's head?"

  "There were a lot of phrases used, brother. You cannot expect me to remember all of th
em."

  "No, I suppose not. The relevant phrase was 'the god Amun sets his servant Amenhotep over Upper and Lower Kemet."

  Tiye sipped her wine and looked at her brother out of hooded eyes. "So?"

  "The god Amun recognizes Amenhotep as king, not Akhenaten."

  "Mere word play."

  Ay shook his head. "You are mistaken, sister. When Akhenaten makes his name change official; in the eyes of Amun, in the eyes of the priests, in the eyes of everyone in Kemet; your son ceases to be king."

  Tiye laughed. "I do not believe you. You are telling me the people will rise up and overthrow my son? That has never happened to any king, nor will it."

  "No, not yet. Your husband was likewise crowned as Amenhotep and as long as an Amenhotep reigns over Kemet, we will have a measure of Amun's peace. But what happens when your husband dies? Will Amun protect your son then?"

  Tiye shrugged. "Do not think to upset me by speaking of Nebmaetre's death. I know he must die soon. But I think you misjudge my son. He may turn from Amun but he has embraced the Aten and the Aten will protect him."

  Ay snorted derisively. "The Aten can no more protect him than Amun or any other of the myriad gods of Kemet. The gods, if indeed they exist, play no part in the struggles of men here in Kemet or in the Nations."

  "You...you do not believe in the gods?" Tiye gaped at her brother. "Then what is all this you have been saying about Amun and Aten and coronation ceremonies? Was this all just empty words?"

  "What I believe matters not a fig at a king's feast, sister. It is not I that will depose our beloved king Akhenaten. Nor will the gods." Ay crossed to the divan and sat next to Tiye. He leaned close. "When Nebmaetre Amenhotep goes to the next world, Kemet will be without a legitimate ruler in the eyes of the priests. That is not a situation that will bring peace and security to our country. The priests will look for another, one who will be a true servant of Amun."