“Why is this happening so early?” Henuttaneb cried. “I am supposed to have another month.”
The midwife put the wooden stick between her teeth so she could bite into it and pressed her finger to her lips. Servants held her arms and one held her back as Henuttaneb pushed.
Soon the sound of a crying baby burst into the air.
Nefertiti looked at the newborn and her heart sank deep into the pit of her stomach.
A baby boy who looked exactly like Pharaoh Akhenaten.
“A baby boy!” a servant said to Henuttaneb as she fell back, and they laid her on the stone floor, since Nefertiti’s birthing cot had already been removed.
A messenger went off to tell Pharaoh that his royal wife bore him a son.
Blood slowly filled the floor as it flowed from Henuttaneb’s bottom. Springing into action, the midwives scurried about, leaving one of the servants to hold the newborn, still covered in afterbirth and crying for his mother’s warmth.
Henuttaneb kept calling for her mother, who by this time was surely on her way after receiving word from a messenger. By the time Queen Tiye made it to Nefertiti’s quarters, goosebumps had fallen over Henuttaneb’s body. She was slurring her words, beginning to drift into a daze.
The midwives did everything they could to stop the bleeding, but no matter what they put against her or inside her, they would remove it soaked in blood.
Aitye finally took the crying baby from the servant and cleaned him and tightly wrapped him. Queen Tiye and Beketaten were now kneeling and holding Henuttaneb’s hands as the midwives worked to try to stop the bleeding.
Queen Tiye placed her other hand on her forehead. “She is warm,” she said, and bent her head, wishing she could be in the temple of Amun-Re to plead with the priests to save her daughter. But instead she could only hope Amun-Re would hear her silent prayer.
The baby’s cries finally softened and quieted as the wet nurse slowly swayed with him back and forth.
Pharaoh Akhenaten appeared in the doorway with a smile on his face.
“The vision granted to me by the Aten has been fulfilled!” he bellowed as he took the baby away from the wet nurse and lifted the bundle up to the heavens, stepping beside Henuttaneb—not looking down, really not even noticing she was there.
“My son has been born!”
He gave thanks to the Aten and enveloped the baby in his arms as he looked upon his firstborn son.
Nefertiti stood across the way from him and watched as the same look of pride passed over his face as when he had first held Meritaten.
Queen Tiye looked up to Nefertiti and saw the corners of her mouth had slightly turned down, but her lips were pressed firmly together. Her eyes were glistening. Tiye took a breath and knew that as abundant as their lives were, everyone faced hardship in such a way that it hit them right in the core of their heart.
Turning to whisper to her daughter, who had become increasingly pale, Queen Tiye said, “My daughter, my precious daughter, you shall see this through.”
“Mother,” Henuttaneb said, and with a weak hand pulled her mother close to her face. “Tell Nefertiti . . . I am sorry.” She could not die with a heavy heart; she could not die knowing she stole her sister-wife’s one love.
Tiye looked up to Nefertiti once more, but said nothing. Now is not the time, she thought as Aitye began to urge Nefertiti back to her bed, insisting that she rest herself.
Beketaten heard Henuttaneb’s whispered words—Tell Nefertiti I am sorry—and her ears boiled. She is sorry? Nefertiti should be the sorry one! If she had just had a son for once, my sister wouldn’t be dying on this stone cold floor. We could have gotten rid of our mad Pharaoh and be on with the betterment of Egypt by now. No, Henuttaneb, Nefertiti is not sorry. She is only sorry when it benefits her. I will make her be the sorry one—for you, Henuttaneb.
Beketaten kissed her sister’s forehead and stroked the strands of her wig out of her face.
For you, she thought.
Some hours passed, and Henuttaneb died there on the floor of Nefertiti’s chambers.
Pharaoh Akhenaten appeared to be so engrossed with his son over the window, letting the rays of the Aten fall upon his child, that he did not notice the room plunge into sudden silence.
Queen Tiye observed her daughter’s face. It seemed so peaceful now.
Beketaten stood up and left the room with a strong back, her shoulders, neck, and head squarely erect, not a tear in sight. She stopped long enough at the door to glare at the chief royal wife laying there in her soft bed while her sister lay dead on the floor in a pool of her own blood.
Queen Tiye, with a soft voice, commanded the servants to send word to the priests of the Aten to ready the burial for the King’s daughter, royal wife Henuttaneb, in Akhe-Aten. She stroked her daughter’s plump cheek once again and closed her eyes. Burying two children was almost more than she could bear.
Nefertiti lay in bed watching her husband hold his child from another woman—when he had promised her she would be the only one. Her heart felt as dead as Henuttaneb’s. She might as well have been the one to die, for he would not even have noticed.
Chapter 23
The Time of Lies
After the required days of mourning, they made the march to Akhe-Aten and back.
Pharaoh announced from his throne, “The name of Pharaoh’s son will be Prince Tutankhaten—living image of the Aten—as his existence was given to Pharaoh in a vision long ago and now the vision has been fulfilled. May his name forever remind the people of Egypt that the Aten is the sole god of Egypt! His mother, royal wife Henuttaneb, is now beginning her journey to the afterlife. Therefore, his new mother will be Pharaoh’s royal wife Kiya.”
“Kiya?” Nefertiti looked to him, trying to keep her voice steady. She had thought she, as chief royal wife, would be named his new mother. “Why not me?”
Pharaoh kept his gaze forward. “Kiya has no children. Would you expect Pharaoh’s beloved wife to be childless?”
Nefertiti said nothing and pushed her spine against her throne’s back.
She sat next to him for the next passing months, refusing to whisper into his ear any longer, as he had his visions. Relations with Egypt began to suffer once more. Queen Tiye was sick again and not able to come to the throne room. Her presence might have convinced Nefertiti to help Pharaoh for the greater of Egypt, but truth be told, she wanted him to suffer looking a fool.
Messenger after messenger asked Pharaoh for gold to buy medical supplies, to send the Egyptian doctors, as sickness had broken out in the North. The Egyptian military asked for relief because they too were now sick and dying. But Pharaoh’s visions supposedly told him to keep the path and “the Aten would provide.” He did send one container of gold to each ally, but soon after the gifts became less and less and began to stop coming at all.
Only letters and messengers graced the throne room by the end of the year.
Nefertiti left the throne room, unable to take any more of his rantings, and went to the most peaceful place she had ever known in Aketaten. She had stopped trying to talk Akhenaten into sending Kiya back to the Mitanni after Henuttaneb had let slip they were the ones behind his commands. Still upset at her friend for not refusing him, she wasn’t talking to Kiya, but there was no more maliciousness weighing her heart down. She smiled in the cool early evening breeze as the fiery red sun began to dip behind the courtyard wall.
Beketaten found Nefertiti alone in the courtyard. Sneaking up behind her, she caught her by surprise when she whispered in her ear, “It should have been you.”
Startled, Nefertiti turned to face her. “Oh, it’s you.” Then she turned her face back toward the courtyard. “What do you want?”
“I want you to know that I wish you died instead of my sister.”
“You know, if I didn’t have my six lovely daughters, I would have wished it as well. But the Aten said I could live.” Nefertiti pursed her lips, crossing her arms. So Pharaoh says.
Bek
etaten smirked. She will live . . . but she will live in misery. I will take everything from her, just as she let me be stripped of everything I had, she thought.
“So, my Queen,” Beketaten began. “I want you to know what transpired during your lengthy stay in Waset.”
“I don’t want to know,” Nefertiti said, putting her hand up, but Beketaten slapped it away.
“How dare—”
“I think you do want to know,” Beketaten said. Using her height and weight, she cornered Nefertiti, stopping her from escaping. “My barge is ready, but I feel you must know before I leave Aketaten.”
Nefertiti tried to put her hands over her ears, pleading, “I don’t want to hear . . .”
But Beketaten grabbed both of her wrists and pinned them against her stomach and began her tale. No matter how much Nefertiti tried to struggle, Beketaten continued.
“Kiya, Henuttaneb, and myself discussed at length with Akhenaten how his poor wife Nefertiti would never be able to give him a son—but he had two other willing wives, did he not? The Aten had given him a vision showing either Henuttaneb or Kiya as his son’s mother, but he must act on the vision for it to be fulfilled.
“He took some wine to think on it. Then he had the vision we told him about. Surprised? No, I didn’t think so. To make him vulnerable, it was Kiya’s idea to send the cupbearer to him, frequently, until he was drunk enough to call Henuttaneb and then Kiya into your bed.”
Nefertiti whimpered.
“They both went like little lambs doing as they were told—Kiya especially. During our talks together, she told me how she was jealous of your relationship with Pharaoh. He was her friend first, but Queen Tiye took him away from her. She could have been the chief royal wife if it weren’t for you, and then they wouldn’t have had to sneak around without you noticing. Did you really believe your husband was out in the temple of the Aten all of those nights he left you alone in bed? No . . . he was warming Kiya’s bed!”
“No!” Nefertiti slammed the back of her head against the stone of the pillar. “No, this is not real. You are lying. If they were doing that, she would have been with child. There is no way she could not have had at least one child by now!”
But Beketaten continued. “She was glad when you were banished, for they could have all the relations they wanted with you gone. She said her sterility was both a curse and a blessing. She could never have children, so there would never be a witness to their relationship. Don’t you see, you stupid Queen? You have no one. Even your best friend betrays you, and you are stupid enough to believe her. I tell you the truth. Why would I lie? I have nothing left for me here. My sister is dead, my brother and mother dead to me the day they exiled me . . . I have nothing here except my own conscious telling me to tell you the truth. Why hide it now that Pharaoh has claimed my sister’s son as his own?”
She let go of Nefertiti, who stood shocked, still for a moment before collapsing to her knees.
“Poor, dumb, stupid Queen, all alone.” Beketaten clicked her tongue against her teeth, shaking her head in a façade of pity. “Now you know the truth, and I have overstayed my welcome.”
Beketaten strode away to go to Waset to stay with her sisters, Sitamun and Iset, and carry out her work. Live with that truth, she thought as her lips curled into a grim smile.
Still on her knees, Nefertiti replayed all that Beketaten had told her. Was it real? Why would she lie? Was Kiya really in bed with her husband the entire time, playing her the fool? Did Pharaoh lie to her to keep her happy? In his mindset, maybe.
But Kiya . . . Kiya wouldn’t do that to me. “She wouldn’t,” she whispered. “But she . . . she did not refuse him, either. Or so I think. Henuttaneb, definitely, and Kiya too, because she said she would die before betraying me. But she is alive. She keeps a secret from me, and now I know what it is.”
Her eyes narrowed in hatred. She stood up, and like a lion chasing its prey, she stormed off to Kiya’s bedchambers.
On the way, however, she ran into Queen Tiye, who was strolling, trying to keep herself mobile while her health failed her more with each passing day.
“Queen Neferneferuaten-Nefertiti, may we walk together?” she asked. “I must speak with you.”
“Not now,” Nefertiti curtly responded as she strode past her.
“It is important, and I fear I may not have much more time left.”
Nefertiti stopped in her tracks, took a deep breath, softened her face, and turned around. She let Queen Tiye take her arm as they walked mostly in silence first, but then Queen Tiye stopped to gasp for air. Shaking her head, unable to make the journey, she turned around and began to walk arm in arm with Nefertiti back to her chambers.
“My daughter . . .” she began.
Nefertiti nearly tripped at the sound of Queen Tiye calling her daughter.
Queen Tiye coughed and held up her cloth to her mouth to catch whatever came up. Nothing this time. “Nefertiti . . .”
“Yes?” she responded as she put her other hand atop Queen Tiye’s arm. “I’m here.”
“I want you to know something.”
They continued to walk.
“What is it?” Nefertiti asked.
Queen Tiye held up her hand to silence the conversation until they reached her chambers. When they arrived, Huya helped Queen Tiye into her bed and pulled up a chair for Nefertiti. Placing her hands on her thighs, she waited until Queen Tiye regained her breath.
Finally, she said, “I am dying, Nefertiti.”
Nefertiti averted her eyes. She had known for a long time now that Tiye had been sick but did not want to accept that the only other sane person who had done her no wrong was actually dying.
“When Henuttaneb died, I saw something in you that I felt a long time ago,” Queen Tiye said. “My husband had also promised me I would be his chief royal wife, and that as long as the Aten was his personal god he would only ever share my bed.”
Nefertiti let out a deep exhale. Yes, and he was faithful to his promise, she thought. Thutmose would have been faithful to his promise as well. She shook her head. Why would she think of Thutmose at this time?
“He never admitted it, but Smenkare is his son,” Queen Tiye said and tried to breathe again.
Nefertiti’s eyes raised up to the old woman lying in her bed. “Smenkare is Sitamun’s son,” she said, trying to verify what she knew. This can’t be, she thought.
“Yes, he is the father of his daughter’s son,” Queen Tiye said, her eyes glistening. “It was why he let Nebetah stay with Sitamun after exiling her. He did not want the world to know he consummated a ceremonial marriage to his own daughter. It was why no man was ever punished with the taking of Pharaoh’s wife and daughter, or why she and a lover were never punished as adulterers.”
“I’m sorry,” Nefertiti said finally, rethinking all that had happened to this great Queen.
“Egypt needs a ruler—”
She began coughing again. Huya brought her clean cloths and made her drink some wine. When her coughing died down again, she continued.
“It is a wonderful thing, to be the powerful Queen of Egypt, but it is a cursed thing. You thought the same when you came back from Waset—I could see it in your eyes. When my son made known what he had done, I saw your face mirror the emotions of my heart.”
“Oh Queen Tiye.” Nefertiti threw herself on her knees next to the bed. She grabbed the Queen’s hand and began to cry. “How do you continue? How do you live each day?”
“Because”—more coughing—“Egypt is my love. I will do whatever is necessary for the good of Egypt. She needs a capable ruler whom the people fear and respect, not a priesthood of corrupt men feigning their dutifulness to Amun-Re. Remember, that is why we started this journey.”
Nefertiti placed her forehead on Tiye’s knuckles. “But how do you live each day knowing he has broken his promise to you? Akhenaten doesn’t love me anymore. I have been betrayed by him and those I once called friends.”
“My child, he
loves you in his own way. His mind has been taken over by delusions which are his reality. I live each day because Egypt needs me to live, but I fear I am close to making the journey to the afterlife.”
Her voice had turned raspy, and she raised her hand to lift Nefertiti’s chin up.
Looking into her eyes, she said, “You are a powerful Queen, as am I. Powerful Queens cannot let their emotions get the best of them. They must do what is best for Egypt. They must not harbor hate—only wisdom, authority, and grace. You must take my place. You must now doubly persuade Akhenaten to return to Amun-Re. Continue to feed him visions to turn Egypt back to Amun-Re. Rule Egypt in his place, should he fail. You are an adept leader. Ay has said there is no more cult of Amun. Pharaoh controls the power now. Use it for Egypt.”
Nefertiti closed her eyes and debated confessing her sins to Tiye.
After a moment, she opened her eyes and spoke. “Queen Tiye, it is my fault we are still with the Aten. He promised me that so long as there is one god of Egypt, there would only be one lover of Pharaoh. I did not do my part in trying to persuade him back to Amun-Re.” Tears fell down her face. “And now Amun-Re punishes me with no son.”
Queen Tiye closed her eyes and leaned her head back as she stifled a cough. “The past is in the past, and you have endured the punishment from the gods. My son did not keep his promise to you, and so you have nothing now to fear. You are the powerful Queen of Egypt, the chief royal wife of Pharaoh Akhenaten, the beloved Queen of the People. Persuade him back to Amun-Re . . . and if he doesn’t, do what you must.”
Her eyes held a secret as Nefertiti pondered her last words. She opened her mouth to speak, but Huya shooed her away to let the great royal chief wife get some much needed rest.
Salvation in the Sun (The Lost Pharaoh Chronicles Book 1) Page 22
