The Amarnan Kings, Book 1: Scarab - Akhenaten

by Overton, Max

  "You think so? Well, perhaps I can wait another few hours. After all, a son is worth a little delay."

  Ay bowed again. "A wise decision my lord."

  The sun set and Akhenaten led his inner court in the farewell praises of the Aten, their hymns almost drowned out by the cheering and drunken revelry from the streets outside. Torches were lit and the king, of necessity, turned the proceedings over to another high priest of Aten to conduct the official marriage ceremony. Some of the rituals of marriage remained, though most had been adapted to meet the pure truth of the Aten's light.

  Meryetaten entered the temple precincts, dressed in the finest, whitest gossamer-thin linen gown, so sheer it billowed like mist around her. She was decked in gold; a heavy golden ankh of life around her neck; the queen's high crown upon her head; necklaces, bracelets and brooches of fine gold and costly jewels adorning her slim young body; expensive perfumes filling the air with exotic scents; the elaborate makeup turning her face from the eagerness of youth to an impassive mask as she advanced slowly to meet her father-husband. Twenty young girls similarly arrayed, though with simple gold jewelry and with wildflowers adorning their elegantly styled wigs, danced in front of the bride in a stately pavane of homage.

  Akhenaten and Meryetaten clasped hands and stared into each other's eyes for a moment before advancing toward the altar of Aten. Together they offered up bowls of smoking incense, the sweet heavy aroma mixing with the flowery scents of perfume, ascending in blue-white clouds into the glowing night. A gong sounded, echoing and reverberating through the temple and the high priest Tjetaten called out for all those who had an interest in the holy marriage to come forth to witness the union of man and woman and god.

  The royal couple sat on great padded chairs next to one another and the high priest of Aten nervously sat opposite them. He cleared his throat and read from a prepared parchment.

  "Let it be known that on this day, King Neferneferure Waenre Akhenaten bestows the title of Queen of the Two Lands on Meryetaten, that bestowal superseding all others and rendering any previous assignment void. Let it be known further that Meryetaten, as Daughter of the King's Body and God's Wife shall share in the governance of the kingdom, her word being law over all save the king."

  Tjetaten then passed the parchment to an assistant and, leaning forward, started to go through, in great detail, Meryetaten's duties, both as queen and wife. "You must be hardworking, honest and truthful; earning praise for your amiable nature. You must give affection and love to your husband, and accept them back. Your duty is to give your husband children, to love and care for these children, to provide a stable and calm household and to make yourself loved by all who see you. Furthermore, as queen your womanly duties are intensified. You must be divinely feminine, charming, strong of will yet pleasant of character; adorning yourself with plumes of contentment; showing affection and a pleasant disposition to all your subjects; the sound of your voice a delight to all who hear you."

  The priest next turned to Akhenaten, his nervousness returning. He swallowed, making an effort to remember that in the marriage service a king was just a man like any other. "You will hold this woman to be a companion, a helper, and a wife. You will love her with your full devotion, withholding nothing, neither your body nor your love. She is your equal in all things save for the governance of Kemet. You will honour her always, love her always, and never seek her hurt or displeasure. Seek always to please your wife that you may enjoy all the days of your life."

  Tjetaten took a small barley loaf still warm from the ovens from a golden tray held by a junior priest and ripped it in two, handing the pieces to the king and his new queen. They ate, passing the fragments to each other. After the ritual bites had been swallowed, the pieces were passed to the guests. Wine followed, rich wine from the vineyards of the Delta, in two ornate goblets, passed around in the same way as the loaf. Akhenaten and Meryetaten stood and drew close, opening their mouths. They breathed in turn, inhaling each other's breath. Finally, a glowing coal was brought from Ay's hearth in a beautifully painted pot. Normally, the parents of the bride would provide the ritual fire but as Akhenaten was the father and Nefertiti, the deposed queen was the mother; Ay had agreed to stand in. Meryetaten took a dry sliver of camphor wood and held it to the burning ember until it sprang into living flame. She then held it aloft before passing it to Akhenaten who in turn held it up briefly before placing it back in the painted pot.

  "In the eyes of Aten, in the eyes of these gathered nobles, let it be seen that King Akhenaten and Queen Meryetaten are truly married." Tjetaten stood and spread his arms wide, facing the guests, who immediately broke out into a chorus of cheers.

  A procession started. It had been intended that the procession should wind through the streets of the city, allowing everyone to see the new queen in all her glory, but the scene outside had turned ugly, the drunken citizens on the verge of riot. The procession instead made a hurried turn and headed back to the palace for the marriage feast.

  The Great Hall of Justice had been prepared for the feast. Long tables stood in the center of the hall and ornately carved chairs were laid out around them. Servants abounded, all dressed in their cleanest, neatest attire. The king and queen entered first and advanced to the raised dais, taking their seats on the golden thrones. Nobles entered and took their places, their rank and position at the court dictating where they sat.

  Servants brought around great ewers of scented water, pouring them over the guests' hands into other great copper vessels carried by other servants. Wine was served, watered and straight; rich sweet wine from Syria, spiced wine from the Delta, honeyed wine from Zarw and two separate wines from the river valley with bouquets redolent of fruit and herbs. Beer was offered, poured from great jars into beautifully ornamented faience cups. Milk too, and water, though few partook of these common drinks.

  Meat was abundant, the tables literally groaning under the weight as long lines of servants brought in the smoking meats from the kitchens, cuts of beef, mutton, and goat. Geese and pigeons were everywhere, swimming in their rich fat, river fish and sea fish too. The guests ate with their hands, ripping the food into manageable portions, the grease running down chins, staining garments. Bread, crusted and golden-brown, soaked up the rich juices and gravies, the sharp fresh tastes of onion, garlic, lettuce, radish and cucumber accenting the meats. Coriander, dill and mint added to the tastes. Scented water flowed in abundance again, preparing the guests for further culinary delights.

  At last the feasting slowed and the remnants of the meats were removed for the enjoyment of the court servants. Fruits appeared; grape, fig, melon, date and pomegranate to cleanse the palate and through it all the drinking continued.

  Akhenaten stood, Meryetaten getting to her feet a moment later. The king seemed to have difficulty standing and leaned on his daughter-wife, a vacuous grin on his face. Meryetaten looked confused and unsure of herself for the first time, the heat of the feasting hall having smeared her makeup.

  Ay smiled to himself. A child in her mother's makeup , he thought. Well, I wish them well for tonight at least . Advancing, he caught the king's attention and bowed low. "My lord Akhenaten, and Queen Meryetaten. May I have the honour of conducting you to the marriage chamber?"

  "Ah, Divine Father," the king said loudly. "You may indeed. It is time to impregnate my wife at last."

  "Indeed it is, my lord." Ay moved to the side of Meryetaten and whispered in her ear. "Do you wish me to give the king a sleeping draught? You need not go through this ordeal tonight."

  Meryetaten said nothing for a moment, before gathering her thoughts, her face twisting into a sneer. "You presume too much, Tjaty Ay. I may have been your grand-daughter once but now I am queen and I outrank you. How dare you suggest that I act in any way but that of a dutiful wife? I shall be bedded by my husband and bear him a son who will reign after us."

  Ay kept a straight face and bowed to his grand-daughter. "As you wish it, your majesty. Forgive my presumpt
ion." He led the way out of the feasting hall and along the wide, crowded corridors to the king's suite. Ribald remarks followed them, the drunken guests giggling and laughing.

  Ay watched the chambermaids turn down the great bed and undress the king and queen. It was his duty to see the act consummated, so he could bear witness that a child born to the queen had issued from the king's loins. He looked on, his face impassive as Akhenaten mounted his daughter. He stood silent when she cried out in pain, sobbing as the king took his pleasure. Then, after the king rolled off, the act complete, Ay walked backward through the doorway, drawing the great cedar doors closed after him.

  "It is accomplished," Ay told the guests waiting out in the corridors. A great cheer erupted and the men and women drifted off to find more wine.

  Two hours , Ay thought. Two hours and Kemet is mine . He hurried off to set his plans in motion.

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  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  By midnight on the night of the new moon, the sober people of Akhet-Aten were in bed. The rest were in an advanced state of inebriation, still valiantly striving to make the most of the free food and drink. The street bonfires had burned down to ashes and glowing embers and the streets were littered with refuse and vomit. Packs of dogs fought for the scraps, ignoring men and women lying around the streets as if strewn by storm winds.

  Paatenemheb's first thought as he entered the city behind the Great Temple was that he was too late. The coup had taken place and a great battle been fought and he was seeing the aftermath, dead bodies littering the capital of Kemet. Then he saw a body move and a quick examination proved that the 'bodies' were in fact people sleeping off the effects of overindulgence.

  He straightened, feeling the bone weariness deep within. His legs ached and the previous five days passed like a blur in his head, running through the heat of the days and the cool of night, sinking exhausted into sleep by the side of the road during the hottest part of the afternoon. He started with fifty men but that number fell steadily as soldiers, though professional and fit, dropped by the road, succumbing to heat exhaustion, agonizing cramps and festering foot sores. One man died of snakebite after throwing himself down on the grass during a rest period, not seeing the cobra. He died screaming but quickly. Paatenemheb led twenty-seven men out of his original fifty down the steep, craggy valley that was the resting place of the Aten's family, and into the city of Akhet-Aten.

  Twenty-seven exhausted men , he thought. And a garrison of a hundred. Well, we shall test their loyalty soon enough . Paatenemheb got Ankhtify to organize his men back into ranks and they marched through the slumbering streets to the palace. The buildings were in darkness save for a low-burning torch in the doorways and in some of the main passages. Few people moved within the palace, a handful of servants and slaves who gaped at the sight of the famous general and his armed men.

  Leaving his command in the vestibule, Paatenemheb took Ankhtify with him and marched through to the king's chambers, where he found the guard deep in wine-soaked slumber. Hauling the man to his feet, he slapped him hard, rousing him.

  "I could have your life for this," Paatenemheb roared. "Sleeping on duty--and drunk too. Where is the king? If he is not safe I will kill you myself."

  "S... sir, he...he is safe. H... how could he not be? It is his we... wedding night. Who would disturb him?"

  "Fool." Paatenemheb let go and the guard fell to the floor. He strode over to the great double cedar doors and threw them open. A solitary torch burned low and in the dim light he could see the rumpled bed and two still forms on it. Walking over to the bed, he looked down at the body of his king and hesitated. Then, with a deep breath he grasped the king's foot and tugged.

  "Waenre Akhenaten. Rouse yourself, for your life. Akhenaten."

  "Eh...what?" The king rolled over, his features sagging and his eyes unfocused. "What is it? Who...who is that?"

  "Paatenemheb. Rouse yourself, Akhenaten. Your life is in danger."

  The king sat up, Meryetaten waking too and pulling the sheets around her. "What danger?" He rubbed his eyes and stared up at his general. "And why are you here? You are supposed to be in Gezer."

  "I got wind of a plot to kill you, Akhenaten, and hurried down here. It appears I was in time."

  The king swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. Picking up a kilt from the neatly folded garments on a small side table he wrapped it around his waist. "I think you must be mistaken, general. There is no plot. Who would want to kill me? I am universally loved. Why, even the king of the Hittites loves me." Akhenaten smiled tentatively.

  Paatenemheb closed his eyes briefly, resisting the urge to shake his king. "We can talk about the love of the Hittite king later, my lord. For now, we need to get you to a place of safety. Be assured, the plot is real. I heard of it from a witness of its planning."

  "And who is supposed to want my death?"

  "Ay and Nefertiti."

  The king sat down again. "Ay? Impossible. He is my chief counselor and my right hand. And Nefertiti? She is my queen. Why should she seek my death?"

  "But I am your queen," Meryetaten whined, putting her arms about Akhenaten. "You made me your queen, father. Remember? She is just jealous."

  "Yes. Yes, that is true. It could be, Paatenemheb. I could perhaps believe it of Nefertiti, though never that she desires my death. She loves me. As for Ay--no. I will not believe that of him."

  Paatenemheb shrugged. "Well, no matter who is or who is not guilty, we must first ensure your safety--and that of your...your queen," he added, his lip curling in distaste. "I can then investigate the matter."

  Akhenaten nodded. "Yes, without me there is no Kemet--and my queen too, of course. Already she carries my son within her body, I know it. I was a lion tonight, Paatenemheb, a rampant wild bull. You should have seen me."

  "I regret I missed it," the general muttered dryly. "Now please dress and accompany me. We must get you somewhere safe."

  Akhenaten fastened a cloak about his shoulders and put on a pair of sandals while Meryetaten dressed. "You have your army with you?"

  "Twenty-seven men." Paatenemheb shrugged. "It will have to do. It will do if none can find you." He ushered the king and his new consort out into the vestibule, where Ankhtify and the rapidly sobering guard waited.

  "Where do we go, sir?" Ankhtify asked. "The rebels will search the whole palace."

  "The Tjaty's suite," Paatenemheb replied with a grim smile. "With the gods' help it will be the last place he will think of looking."

  "Aten's help, general," Akhenaten said peevishly. "How many times do I have to say it? There is only one god."

  "I think that dangerous policy has about run its course. Now if you will follow me, time is running out. It must be close to midnight." Paatenemheb cut off the king's remarks and set off along the corridors at a fast walk, his sword in hand. They reached Ay's suite without incident and found the chambers deserted. "Too much to hope he might still be here. I could have nipped this rebellion in the bud. I wonder where he is."

  "The North Palace?" Akhenaten guessed. "Nefertiti withdrew there."

  Paatenemheb left Ankhtify to guard the king. "Secure the rooms. Use an inner one without easy access to windows. Barricade the doors. I'm leaving you twenty men." He clasped his subordinate firmly, kissing him on the cheek. "You are a good man, Ankhtify. I won't forget this night."

  "Sir, if you leave me twenty that's only six to take with you to confront the enemy. It's not enough. Leave me fewer, I'll manage somehow."

  "All twenty-seven would not be enough if the local garrison has forgotten where their loyalty lies. No, your duty is to defend the king's person and sell your lives dearly." Paatenemheb snapped his fingers and grinned. "Of course, there are Mahu's Medjay. They are at least half-trained. I'll get round there first." He hurried off, leaving Ankhtify to organize the defenses.

  Mahu was not in the barracks, nor were any of his men. Paatenemheb scratched his head. "Gods," he m
uttered to himself. "Are they in the plot too?" He thought for a minute then called over the men. "Who is the ranking soldier here?"

  One of the men shrugged. "No-one, sir. We are all just troopers in Ankhtify's Fifty."

  "Your name?"

  "Mintu, sir." The man saluted.

  "Very well, Mintu. You are Acting Leader of Ten." He smiled. "Though you only have five for now." He took Mintu by the elbow and led him aside, lowering his voice. "We have a serious situation on our hands as I'm sure you already know. Ankhtify guards the king but I must make an attempt to stop this rebellion before it gets going. I had hoped to enlist the help of the local Medjay but they may be on the side of the rebels. They are not here, anyway."

  "What about the city garrison, sir?"

  "That is the key. The rebels may have subverted the army, in which case our only option is to take as many with us as we can. I believe this will be the case as it seems incredible that Ay would attempt this without support. On the other hand, it may be that he has taken command and somehow persuaded the officers to forget their oaths."

  "So what do we do, sir?"

  Paatenemheb smiled mirthlessly. "We march on the army barracks, disarm them and take Ay and the rebels into custody--the seven of us."

  Mintu gulped, the darkness hiding his trembling body. "That...that will not be easy."

  The general laughed. "It will be nigh on impossible, soldier. Never mind, we die for Kemet and our king. Can you think of a better way to go?" He clapped Mintu on one shoulder, feeling the man's fear. "Obey my commands immediately and in every detail, Mintu, and we shall get through this. We have one chance and I mean to take it. Don't let me down."

  "N... no sir, you can count on me and my men."

  "Good man. Now, come on, we march north."

  Paatenemheb led his men back to the Avenue of the Aten then through the darkened streets toward the North Palace and the army barracks. They carried torches and marched in step, deliberately and purposefully.