The Amarnan Kings, Book 1: Scarab - Akhenaten

by Overton, Max

  "My lord, I received a report from Horemheb, your general of the Eastern Borders, that incursions by Amorite raiders are assuming epidemic proportions. He says he must have more men and...and more gold if he is to resist them." Ay saw growing anger in the king's face and gritted his teeth.

  "There is no need to discuss this further. The reports are blown out of all proportion. I have other reports, from the high priest of Aten at Zarw for instance, that says soldiers are sitting around idly, drinking and causing mischief. I have decided to disband these units."

  "My lord, I beg you to reconsider ..."

  "Enough, Ay. You try my patience with your prattling. The generals and governors are exaggerating the problems to get more gold but I have better uses for it. Now, the matter is closed."

  Faced with the king's anger, Ay could do little else but bow, hands extended once more, and keep silent.

  Akhenaten and Nefertiti stood together, arms around each other, looking out on the tranquil garden and domestic bliss. The girls were, under the watchful eyes of the nurses, playing by the fish pond. Ankhesenpaaten stood knee-deep among the water lilies, bending and trying to catch the little silver fish that darted amongst the weed. The others danced around the edges, yelling encouragement and advice. Neferneferouaten-tasherit slipped and fell headlong into the pool, to emerge spluttering. A moment of stunned silence followed as the little girl tried to comprehend what had happened, before she erupted into howls of rage and embarrassment. The older girls laughed loudly and the nurses hurried over and gathered the little one into their bounteous arms, soothing her tears and drying her with their linen dresses.

  A gong sounded softly behind Ay, from the cool depths of the Women's quarters. He turned and saw a slave slipping quietly back into the shadows, a bronze plate in one hand and a cloth-tipped stick in the other. A courtier stood in the doorway, his white linen robe immaculate, eyes painted and the hair on his head slick and reeking of unguents. He bowed low, his voice honeyed.

  "O Great King, son of the Living Aten, the Window of Appearance is readied and awaits your royal pleasure."

  Akhenaten turned with a look of anticipation. "Excellent. Go and prepare the way. I and my family will be there in a short while." He dismissed the courtier with a wave of his hand and called to his daughters to ready themselves.

  The nurses gathered their charges and ran off into the Women's quarters, urging the princesses onward with a mixture of empty threats and small promises. The king and queen walked through into the empty halls of the palace harem, Ay bowing again as they passed.

  Akhenaten stopped and regarded Ay's bent head. "It pains me to quarrel with you, father. Will you keep silent and follow me? Great things are about to happen in this Kemet and I would have you with me."

  "I will, my lord," Ay murmured, falling in behind his daughter and son-in-law. The three of them slowly walked through the palace corridors and rooms, any whom they met bowing low and pressing themselves against the walls if they could not otherwise remove themselves from the royal presence. It was as if the myriad inhabitants of the palace were all elsewhere, leaving the king and queen to walk in solitary splendor. They turned left onto the long ramp leading onto the bridge and the Window of Appearance and it was here that the princesses joined them. The girls were no longer naked as they had been at play, but were robed in thin fine linen like that of their parents that concealed nothing. Meryetaten and Meketaten, as the eldest, wore richly braided wigs with gold intertwined. The younger girls still wore the side lock of hair on an otherwise shaven head, signifying their youth.

  Together, and in silence, the royal family walked up the ramp into the broad chamber that lay behind the two Windows of Appearance that faced North and South over the Royal Road.

  From the broad street below came a muted roar as if from a great wind storm, the street being crowded with people, peasants and shopkeepers, soldiers and slaves, tradesmen and nobles jostling together, staring up at the vacant Windows in vociferous anticipation.

  A large table was set up in the middle of the wide room, out of sight of anyone standing in the street below. It was laden with fruits, roast meats, goose, fish and steaming breads. Jugs of river-cooled wines, beer, mead and water, together with beautifully inlaid faience cups waited to assuage the thirst. The young princesses uttered cries of delight and descended on the food and drink, grabbing figs and dates and rich honeyed loaves. Nefertiti moved to control their appetites while Akhenaten looked on affectionately.

  "Ay, join us."

  "Thank you, my lord." Ay took a ripe fig and bit into it, relishing the sweet and gritty texture.

  "Come children," Akhenaten said. "It is time for the Appearance. Put down the food and let us show ourselves to the people. Afterward we can feast on the bounty provided by Aten." He moved with Nefertiti to the north window.

  A roar went up from the crowd, laughing and cheering, the soldiers stamping their feet and clattering spears on shields.

  The king waved and smiled, talking quietly so none but those close to him could hear. "You see, Ay? My people love me. Is this the reaction of people who believe I am too lenient or do not have the interests of our Kemet at heart?"

  "No, my lord," Ay said. But it is the reaction of those who have been paid to be here , he thought. This was one of the rumors he had heard within minutes of arriving in Akhet-Aten this morning--that the king would announce something momentous from the Window of Appearance at noon and that all that came to listen would receive a deben of silver.

  Akhenaten made quieting motions with his hands, waiting through the long minutes as the babble and roar of the crowd diminished by degrees until it finally fell away into a hush. High above, lost in the glare of the noonday sun, a solitary falcon cried out, and its piercing whistle sent a murmur of superstitious awe through the populace.

  "People of Akhet-Aten," Akhenaten cried out into the silence, priests repeating his words below him on the lower tier of the bridge, and others in the street itself. "Let us give praise to the Living Aten from whom all good things flow." He paused for a moment, gathering himself, then launched into the Great Song of Praise to the Aten.

  "O most wondrous and majestic god,

  You appear most beautifully on the horizon of heaven, O Living Aten, the originator and beginning of life! When you rise on the eastern horizon, You fill every land under the heavens with your beauty. You are gracious, great, glistening, and high over every land; Your rays encompass the lands to the limit of all that you have made: As you are Re-Harakhte manifest, you reach to the end of every land; You subdue them for your beloved son ..."

  Ay groaned inwardly as the sonorous chanting went on and on. He is going to sing the whole thing . He stepped back and edged sideways behind the king and queen toward the table, filching another fig. Only Ankhesenpaaten saw him, one slim finger up her nostril as she looked around, bored already.

  "The Two Lands rejoice in you every day, O Living Aten, Awake and standing upon their feet, the people rejoice, For You have raised them up. They wash their bodies, they take up their clothing, They raise their arms in praise at your appearance every morning ..."

  Having sung the hymn many times himself in the morning devotions, Ay knew he was in for a long wait--and this before the king got onto whatever was the point of his message. He bit into the fig and wondered what it was that the king wanted to announce. Surely it couldn't be...no, not even this fanatic king would be that foolish .

  "O sole god, only god, before you there is no other!

  Behold, there is one god, the Aten, and one son, his servant Akhenaten. You created the world according to your desire, While you were alone: All men, cattle, and wild beasts ..."

  Ay snapped out of his reverie, his head swiveling to the king standing in the window, his wife and daughters next to him. The bright sunlight pouring through the broad window rendered the fine linen of their robes completely transparent.

  Did he just say... ? He knew the words of the Hymn varied, depending
on the occasion and who sang it. In fact, it made his life a lot easier. The songs of praise to the other gods had to be sung perfectly. A line, a phrase, even a word wrong and the whole thing had to be sung again. He remembered a time when, as a young man, he listened to a priest sing the same praise song to Amun over twenty times before he got it right. The old king, Nebmaetre Amenhotep, had been furious at being made to stand for hours in the hot sun, banishing the priest to one of the border outposts. How much easier were the rites to the Aten. A word wrong, even whole sentences, and nobody minded, least of all the sun god. He still rose every day, whether or not the priests got his rituals right.

  The hymn of praise wound down to its conclusion, praising the king and queen as the only direct beneficiaries of the Aten's love.

  "... Since you created the earth and all that is in it And exalted them for your only son, Who came forth from your body: the King of Upper and Lower Kemet, Neferneferure Waenre Akhenaten, And the Chief Wife of the King, Neferneferuaten Nefertiti, living and youthful forever and ever."

  The king's voice died away, followed a few moments later by the more distant voices of the priests. Akhenaten lowered his arms and cheering broke out from the crowd once again. He let the tumult continue; obviously basking in the love and praise of his subjects, then raised his arms once more, waiting for the noise to die away before speaking again.

  "People of Akhet-Aten, City of the Living Aten, it has long been a sorrow to me that the other gods of this Kemet are remembered and praised in people's names. I have sought to change this where I could, altering my own name from Amenhotep which exalted the false god Amun ..."

  False god ? Ay's eyes widened. Lesser god I can understand, but false god ?

  "... To my new name of Akhenaten, the servant of Aten. I was sorrowful that this obvious step was unappreciated and that no-one else sought to change their names to exalt the only true god, whether as his sublime manifestation as the Aten, or his lesser ones as Re-Harakte. However, the Aten has illuminated the minds of my subjects and I can now introduce to you ..."

  The king turned and gestured, beckoning forward two men who stood in the shadows, behind the press of servants and courtiers. The Grand Tjaty Ptahmose and General Horemheb stepped forward and joined their king in the Window of Appearance.

  Horemheb glanced at Ay as he passed; his eyes hooded and unreadable while Ptahmose tottered on old legs, a bemused expression on his face.

  "... The man who has been my faithful servant, and the servant of my illustrious father on earth, my Tjaty Ptahmose--who will henceforth be known as Ramose." Akhenaten embraced the old man and, after a brief hesitation, kissed him on his spittle-flecked lips. A servant stepped forward with a copper-bound box and the king lifted a heavy gold chain from it, fastening it about the neck of Ramose.

  "Behold. I reward my faithful servant Ramose with a golden chain of praise, a weight of one hundred deben of gold."

  The old man bowed then tottered backward out of sight of the crowd. General Horemheb stepped forward, tall and powerful, his great bronzed chest gleaming against the white of his formal kilt. Gold armbands and an enameled pectoral caught the sunlight, and Ay could hear murmurs of appreciation drifting up from women in the street below.

  "I present also my General of the Eastern Borders, known to you as Horemheb. He is promoted to General of All the Armies of Kemet and will henceforth be known as Paatenemheb." Akhenaten took another great chain of gold from the box and reaching up, hung it about the general's neck. "I award him too, a golden chain of praise, one hundred deben of gold."

  Paatenemheb bowed low, the gold chain swinging, and stepped back from the window. He glanced at Ay again, a tiny smile of amusement twitching at his full lips. The king called to Ay, beckoning to him.

  "I heap praise upon Ay, son of Yuya, father to my beloved wife Nefertiti and in truth, God's Father. I award him the position of Court Chamberlain and Fan-bearer on the King's right hand. Furthermore, he is named Deputy Tjaty and Overseer of the King's Horses." Akhenaten pulled out another gold chain and hung it about his father-in-law's neck. "Fifty deben of gold." He leaned forward and kissed Ay full on the lips, whispering, "Will you not change your name too, father?"

  "I...I must give it some thought, my lord. I would wish for the perfect name to reflect my faith."

  Akhenaten smiled and turned back to the open window. "Then go and think on it. You are dismissed." He raised his arms again and waited for the hush. "Others among the court and nobility of Akhet-Aten have changed their names to honour their living god. To each of these I award ten deben of finest gold." He started to recite a long list of names.

  Ay caught Horemheb's eye--Paatenemheb , he amended. "You knew about this?"

  The general drew Ay to one side, out of earshot of the servants and courtiers. "Of course. Didn't you?" He looked quizzically at Ay. "No, I see you did not."

  "Changing your name? I would not have thought you would stoop to deny Heru like that. And for the man who refuses to strengthen the armies."

  Paatenemheb shrugged. "I have been made General of All Armies and," he flipped his massive chain of praise. "I have some gold at least. Plus I have the king's favor and the king's ear. I think I will achieve more now than as a mere general of the East. As for the name, well, I can live as well under this name as any other and Heru is an understanding god."

  "And have you heard the rumors?"

  "What rumors? Rumors abound like mice after the harvest."

  Ay hesitated and glanced about the broad room before edging closer to the general. "Rumors of an announcement," he murmured. "Rumors concerning the gods."

  "Only that Kemet now lives under the supreme god Aten and other gods are in a lower position."

  "Only lower? Not...not forbidden?"

  Paatenemheb stared at Ay. "Are you mad?" he whispered. "Gods are gods. One may worship whom one wills but one does not deny their existence."

  "Then I pray it is just rumor."

  A burst of applause and cheering interrupted them. Akhenaten and Nefertiti stood in the balcony of the Window of Appearance, their daughters beside them, waving to the crowd once more. "See beloved," the king exclaimed. "Truly my people love me."

  "How could they not, husband?" Nefertiti smiled up at her love. "Extend your bounty, gracious king, as we talked about earlier."

  Akhenaten nodded and spread his arms again for silence. When the roar fell to an acceptable level he spoke again. "Good people, the Living Aten shines down upon all men and women, showering blessings and life. To give honour to my father in the heavens, I will give a deben of gold to any man, saving of course slaves, who will change his name to honour the Aten." Cheering erupted again from the street below, with much stamping of feet and clattering of spears on shields.

  "One thing more, good people of Akhet-Aten. It has long been in my mind that the priests of every god live well in their temples and their houses, feasting upon every good thing offered up in honour of the gods, sucking the poor and the needy of the very sustenance that the Aten provides. Well, no more."

  Akhenaten's words sank like a smooth stone into a still pond, the ripples of interest in his words dying away before even the priests of Aten had repeated his words. A sea of faces looked up at their god-king standing above them.

  "The Living Aten provides every good thing that men need and enjoy. He gives us the sunshine, the days, our beautiful river and black soil, the food we eat and the very breath within our lungs comes from our heavenly father. What need have we of other gods when we have Aten? From this instant, the old gods which you worshiped before the truth of Aten was revealed stand exposed as worthless. The public worship of any god other than the Living Aten is forbidden, though I will still allow their names to be known in inscriptions."

  The silence from the street below was almost tangible. Even the stridulation of insects in the gardens of the city faltered as if aghast at this pronouncement. Paatenemheb caught Ay's eye. He mouthed 'You knew?' Ay shook his head vigorousl
y, his face pale.

  "Only the false god Amun do I except from this edict," went on Akhenaten. "Too long have the priests of Amun gathered power and wealth in their god's name. Too long has Kemet suffered under the tyranny of this false god. The public worship of all gods except Aten ceases this day, and the wealth of the temples becomes that of the Aten. Public inscriptions of the old gods will remain as their lack of power will highlight the beauty that is Aten. Only Amun do I except from this. The wealth of the temples of this false god is forfeit utterly. The temples will be cast down, the images of the god broken up and his name is to be removed from every temple, building, tomb and monument throughout the land. Amun is no more."

  The silence grew. Akhenaten turned to Nefertiti with a puzzled frown. "Why are they silent?"

  Nefertiti looked down into the street. "I do not know, husband. Perhaps they are amazed at your wonderful vision of the future. Maybe ..."

  A groan started somewhere in the crowd where the peasants stood in grimy loincloths, their weather-beaten faces pale and vacant-looking. The sound of lamentation swelled and a voice called out, cutting through the grief.

  "Give us back our gods."

  At once the cry was taken up, the crowd chanting the words in unison, clapping and shouting, an edge of panic and horror creeping into their voices.

  "Give us back our gods."

  The minor nobles out there in the crowd, their slaves around them holding parasols and fans above them, started pushing back, moving away from the source of the disturbance. The motion increased as the common people jostled the nobles, upsetting a litter. An attendant slave pushed a free man and was beaten to the ground. Other slaves were set upon and the crowd roared its rage and anguish. A woman fell to her knees, struck from behind and her screams fueled the frenzy.