The Amarnan Kings, Book 1: Scarab - Akhenaten

by Overton, Max

  "My lords First and Second Prophets," he said smoothly. "I am honoured that you could attend upon me. Lord Ay has told you the reason?"

  Amenemhet shook his head, glancing at the other military commanders quickly before focusing on Paatenemheb. "Only that it was a matter of quieting unrest in the city."

  "Good. I would like to explain this myself. You will take wine? Or beer perhaps?"

  Amenemhet considered. "You understand that drinking with you does not imply acquiescence to your schemes?"

  Paatenemheb smiled and inclined his head.

  "Then I will take wine." The high priest crossed to a group of cushioned divans by the window overlooking the training courtyard and sat down, arranging his robes. Aanen and Ay followed, the former sitting alongside his fellow priest, Ay sitting to one side. He chewed on a finger nail and kept glancing around the room.

  Paramessu served wine to the priests and Ay and a big pot of beer to his general. He and the other two commanders remained standing by the table as Paatenemheb sat down opposite the priests.

  Amenemhet lifted his goblet of wine. "May the blessings of Amun be upon you," he said softly, watching the old general's eyes.

  Paatenemheb stared at the priest for a long time then grudgingly nodded and drank. "Why are the temples still open? King Akhenaten gave the orders that they be closed two months ago."

  "That is what this is about?" Amenemhet sipped his wine. "I serve the god, not your king in this."

  "He is your king too. Have you forgotten you crowned and consecrated him yourself--and swore a holy oath of loyalty?"

  "My predecessor anointed a king called Amenhotep and later, when I succeeded him in the service of the god, I swore my oath to him. We buried him last night."

  Paatenemheb held his face impassive, staring at the high priest. "And of his son, Akhenaten?"

  "He has turned from the gods of his fathers. Why should the gods honour him?" Amenemhet drained his wine and put down his goblet, standing up. "And why should I? The temples will not close, general, not on the orders of a heretical king."

  "Sit down!" The general glared up at the priest before continuing in a gentler voice. "Please, Amenemhet, sit down. We have much to talk about and, I assure you, you will benefit from our discussions."

  Amenemhet remained standing, Aanen too as he had risen to his feet a moment later. After a minute they sat down again. "Very well. Say what it is you want."

  Paatenemheb smiled and signaled to Paramessu to refill the goblets. He drank from his beer pot again and smacked his lips with enjoyment. "I prefer beer to wine, it is much more refreshing." He pointed across at the men standing by the table. "May I introduce to you, in order of seniority, Djedhor, commander of the Red company, Khui, commander of the Black company and Paramessu, commander of the Blue company, all temporarily within the Amun Legion of Waset. This is Amenemhet, First Prophet and Hem-Netjer of Amun, and Aanen, Second Prophet of Amun. Ay you know already."

  The commanders bowed and received polite nods of acknowledgement from the priests. Paatenemheb got up and walked over to the window where he stared down at the soldiers exercising. "This morning, Akhenaten gave me orders to enforce his edicts. I intend to carry those orders out. At noon, the Black company will move through Waset and close down the principal temples, barring and sealing the doors. The Red company will maintain order in the streets and I, with the Blue company will take possession of the temples of Amun. The doors will close and will not re-open."

  Aanen leapt to his feet in consternation. "You cannot carry out this sacrilege, general."

  Amenemhet sat quietly, putting out a hand to restrain his fellow priest. "The people will resist you, general, as will the priests and the gods themselves. The streets of Waset will flow red before the temples close, no matter what the Heretic King demands."

  "It will happen," Ay said softly. "Make no mistake, Amenemhet, the king is adamant and will not be swayed. He insists the Aten will be the only god in Kemet."

  "You were once a priest of Amun yourself," Amenemhet sneered. "How quickly you turn on your god. And you, Horemheb--for I would not honour you by your changed name. Have you renounced Heru your god for this lesser manifestation of Re?"

  "Enough," Paatenemheb growled. "I am telling you what will happen because I believe you want peace as much as I do. You will tell the priests at the temple not to resist my soldiers and you will quiet the people if they start to cause trouble."

  "And if I do not?"

  "Then it will be on your head."

  Amenemhet got to his feet, Aanen joining him a moment later. "So the heretic desires a blood sacrifice to his god, does he? Well, if he so wishes, he shall have it." The priests strode to the door and walked out.

  Paramessu turned to his general in the silence that followed the departure of the priests. "What are your orders, sir?"

  "Djedhor, Khui, you have your orders already. You know what to do. But staves only, gentlemen, no weapons. I would not object to a few cracked heads but my orders are no killing. Paramessu, the same goes for the Blue company. You will come with me to the main temple complex." He turned to Ay where he sat worriedly playing with the hem of his robe. "Go to Akhenaten. Tell him his orders are being carried out at noon and plead with him not to tie my hands in this. Tell him there will be bloody violence unless he gives me leave to act with force. Tell him I have but three companies, under strength, of a single legion. Bring me word of his answer."

  By the time Paatenemheb and Paramessu met up with Djedhor in the courtyard below, the troops of the Red and Blue companies were forming up on opposite sides of the training ground. Most were armed with solid wooden staves or cudgels, though the rest were knocking the bronze points off spears under the supervision of the junior officers. The general positioned himself in the middle of the open area between the legions and addressed the troops.

  "Listen up you dogs of Set. We are here to do a job, an unpleasant job, but one given us by the king himself. I expect every man to do his duty without question and without hesitation. The Black company has the duty of closing the temples of all gods throughout the city and by now they will have started. You men of the Red will move through the city in groups of ten under your Leaders and maintain the peace. That is your sole duty. If citizens start to gather, you will disperse them. If they fight you, you have my permission to crack a few heads, but there is to be no killing. Understand that, you mangy dogs. If any man kills a citizen I will have him flogged senseless." Paatenemheb moved closer to Paramessu and the Blue company and lowered his voice. "You men will be tackling the hardest task. We move on the temples of Amun to close and bar their doors. This is where I expect the most opposition and it is precisely for this reason I need the most disciplined troops. Don't betray my faith in you."

  The general stepped back and waved his arms. "Red and Blue companies--move out. Commanders, you have your orders, obey them." He raced to the front of the Blue company and, with Paramessu, led them out the gate into the broad military road, southward toward the Amun temples. The Red company, under Djedhor and his officers, exited also, splitting up into smaller groups, dispersing through the city. The curious crowds lining the streets near the barracks ran for cover, cowed by the massed might of the legion.

  The running troops of the Blue company attracted notice as they pounded into the Avenue of Rams, heading toward the massive temple gates. People started pouring from the side streets, running alongside and behind the troops, staring at them in silence as they ran. More moved north from beyond the temple precincts, forming up in a wide semicircle around the gates. As they drew close to the crowd, many armed with spears, knives, cudgels and farm implements, Paatenemheb barked an order and the front ranks of the legion lowered their staves into a solid wall and drove into and through the encircling crowd.

  The silence of the citizens shattered into screams and cries of rage, the people falling back. A barrage of stones and bits of wood rained down on the soldiers but they continued through and in
to the temple precinct. Paramessu at once had a hundred men turn and face outward, blocking the temple gates, while the others, in groups of a hundred or more, fanned out to invade the temples and the maze of other buildings.

  "Stop!" Amenemhet appeared on the steps of the main temple, in full ceremonial regalia, the other Prophets of Amun with him. Lesser priests in their white robes flooded out from the temple, covering the wide columned verandahs and broad steps. "Men of Kemet," he cried. "Would you fight against the gods?"

  A groan of superstitious awe went up from the soldiers, several of them falling to their knees as the god himself, life-sized and adorned in fine clean linen, clutching the emblems of power, ram-headed and wearing the sun disk and double-plumed headdress, swayed out of the gloom of the temple. Several priests, clutching the poles of the great ceremonial boat, staggered under the weight of the god but still brought him down the wide steps and onto the paved courtyard. There they set him down in full view of the milling Blue company and the steadily growing crowd massing out on the Avenue of the Rams.

  "Children of Waset," Amenemhet called out, his voice carrying easily to the front ranks of the crowd. "Children of the City of Amun, will you allow your god to be taken from you by the supporters of the Heretic King? Come to the defense of your god. Rise up and protect his person that his blessings may continue to flow." The priest strode forward toward the gates, raising his arms high.

  "Silence him," Paatenemheb growled. "Quickly."

  Paramessu grabbed a Leader of Ten standing nearby and pointed at the High Priest. "Take him, Wadj, bring him to me."

  The man started forward with a yell, screaming for his men to follow him. They pushed through to Amenemhet and struck at him with their staves, knocking him to the ground.

  "Not that way," Paramessu yelled. He cursed and raced forward, shouldering soldiers and priests aside, knocking Wadj and one of his men down. Another stood over the fallen priest his staff raised. Paramessu grabbed the wood, preventing the blow from falling.

  He dropped to his knees and cradled the priest's head, pressing a cloth to the man's bleeding scalp. Amenemhet stared up unfocused at Paramessu.

  "You...you will not take him," he said, slurring his words.

  Paramessu dragged the priest back and put him in the care of one of the army doctors, then ran back to Paatenemheb's side.

  "That was a fornicating mess," the general growled. "If you can't control your men better than that ..."

  A roar erupted from the Avenue of Rams and the crowd surged forward. Staves rose and fell and screams of pain joined the chorus of anger. The line of soldiers buckled and broke, falling back in disarray as the mob streamed into the temple courtyard, pouring round on both sides of the square ceremonial lake.

  "Fall back," Paramessu bellowed. "Form defensive ranks."

  The soldiers rushed to form up around their commanders, the mob hard on their heels. They formed a ragged line, staves at the ready as the angry citizens seethed and shouted a few paces from the line. A man rushed out of the crowd, a cudgel held high in one fist, an incoherent cry on his lips. He was met with a spear butt to his midriff and a staff cracked down on his skull, splitting his scalp and laying him full stretch on the ground.

  "Easy," Paramessu called. "Defense only. We are not here to hurt anyone."

  Paatenemheb made two soldiers kneel on all fours and he clambered onto their backs straddle-legged, holding onto Paramessu's shoulder for support. He looked out over the heads of his soldiers and scanned the temple precincts. Another group of soldiers was surrounded near the temple steps and, shading his eyes against the noon-day glare, he could make out Meny, newly promoted 'Greatest of Fifty', talking to members of the mob around them. Closer at hand, the priests were arrayed around the great statue of Amun, chanting and praying. Many of the crowd of citizens also knelt in prayer, though others milled around shouting, working themselves up into a frenzy.

  "Citizens of Waset, hear me," Paatenemheb called. "Disperse. Go home. You have no business here."

  A chorus of replies erupted from the crowd.

  "Yes, we have."

  "Go home yourself." Laughter followed.

  "You shall not take our god." Someone shouted out the god's name and it was repeated, over and over, the volume swelling as the mob used the name to work up their courage.

  "People, think, I beg you," called Paatenemheb. "I am ordered by King Akhenaten himself to do this. Do not oppose the king or it will not go well with you."

  The roar of Amun's name increased, drowning out the general's voice. The crowd was growing by the minute, pouring in from the city as the news spread. Already the soldiers were outnumbered and the odds were growing.

  Paatenemheb clambered down and pulled Paramessu to one side, whispering in his ear. "This is not good. We cannot enforce the king's orders unless we get back to the barracks and arm ourselves. Prepare the men; we are going to have to break out."

  "That could be suicide, sir. The crowd won't let us go--and they are better armed than us."

  "So what do you suggest?" Paatenemheb snarled. "Wait here to be butchered?" As if to punctuate his question, a stone sailed into the packed square of soldiers, striking one on the arm.

  Paramessu's eyes fell on the High Priest, still under the care of the army doctor. "I have an idea, sir." He ran across to Amenemhet and gripped his robe, hauling him unceremoniously to his feet.

  "Amenemhet, you have been found guilty by a military court of fomenting riot and rebellion against your king. You are hereby sentenced to death by strangulation. Do you have anything to say before sentence is carried out?"

  The High Priest paled and stepped back, flapping his hands ineffectually at the soldier's grasp. "You cannot," he gasped. "I...I am Hem-Netjer of Amun, I am above military law."

  "Under normal circumstances I would agree, but you have stirred up riot against your king's direct orders. For that, you die."

  "The Heretic is a man of peace. He would not condemn me."

  Paramessu smiled grimly. "Probably not, but you'll be dead by the time he finds out."

  Amenemhet licked his lips, his eyes darting from Paramessu to the soldiers around him. "The crowd will kill you if you touch me."

  "Very likely, but they will probably kill us anyway. It would give me personal satisfaction to kill you first." Paramessu shifted his grip to the priest's neck and squeezed.

  Amenemhet uttered a strangled shriek and fell to his knees, dragging Paramessu down with him. "Please, Paramessu, be merciful," he gasped out. "Take me to the king, let him judge me. I will do whatever you ask."

  Paramessu maintained his pressure, watching the priest's face slowly darken, the man's hands scrabbling at his own, then abruptly let go. Amenemhet fell to the ground, whooping for air, but Paramessu hauled him to his feet again. "Talk to the crowd, priest of Amun. Convince them to let us through or you will still die."

  "Why should I? You will kill me anyway."

  "No. You have my word on it. You will accompany us to the barracks but then you will be free to go."

  Amenemhet stared at the commander's face then glanced at the impassive hooded eyes of Paatenemheb. Abruptly he nodded. "I will do what I can."

  "Do more," Paramessu said grimly. He pushed the priest through to the front rank of the soldiers, maintaining an iron grip on the man's shoulder.

  Amenemhet raised his arms and gradually the mob fell silent, the men in the front ranks quieting the ones behind. "Citizens of Waset, faithful followers of the great god Amun ..." Paramessu squeezed his shoulder hard, making the priest wince. "This is not fitting behavior for the temple precincts."

  "They want to take our gods from us," a man called out angrily.

  "But they have not, and cannot. I ask you not to let blood be spilled in the temple. Let the soldiers depart in peace."

  "Blood has already been spilled," yelled another man. "I saw a man cut down in front of me and many more are injured."

  "Then let the king mete out justice,
for I know that he gave specific orders that none were to be hurt. Do not compound this folly, good citizens. You have shown the king by your actions that your faith in the gods is strong. Surely he will now relent and allow his people freedom of worship?"

  The front ranks of the crowd grumbled, wavering in their resolve. Then a man called from the back somewhere. "We cannot trust the king and his Aten."

  "Tell them the king will keep his word if he swears on his god. The king will be made to listen." Paramessu shook the High Priest. "Tell them."

  "The commander ..."

  "Not me, you fool. It comes from you."

  Amenemhet swallowed and cleared his throat, starting again. "I will make sure the king hears of your concerns. He will listen to me and rescind this senseless order. If he swears by his Aten, he will keep his word." He raised his voice and called out above the muttering crowd. "Aanen. Can you hear me? Priests of Amun. Answer me."

  "I hear you, First Prophet." Aanen's voice, clear and resonant, carried over the hubbub. "What would you have us do? Clear away these sacrilegious soldiers?"

  "No, Aanen. You will clear a path through this rab...through these good people. The soldiers are to go free." Silence. "Aanen, do you hear me?"

  "I hear you, First Prophet. It shall be done as you request."

  A disturbance started at the back of the mass of people, white-robed priests pushing through and linking arms to form a corridor through the sullen-faced people. Aanen came striding down the empty space to confront his High Priest and the soldiers. His eyes flicked over the rumpled, dust-smeared robes, the bloody-bandages and the bruises forming on Amenemhet's neck. His eyes narrowed in anger.

  "Who has dared to do this to you, Hem-Netjer? He will feel the wrath of Amun."

  "Peace, brother," Amenemhet muttered. He glanced over his shoulder at Paramessu. "Are you ready to leave?"

  Paramessu nodded. "Blue company, form up in five ranks, smartly now. Follow me." He pushed Amenemhet forward and stepped out into the open, General Paatenemheb one step behind. Aanen reluctantly stepped aside and the column of soldiers moved through the crowd, a thin film of priests guiding them, leading them, flanking them, and linking arms behind the last of them. Other groups of soldiers joined them as they moved steadily toward the temple gates.