“What do the king and queen think?” my mother asked.
“There is so much turmoil in the palace. I am not sure what anyone thinks or believes,” my father said gloomily.
“I fear that they will blame you, as his teacher.”
“He is their son. They know that he will never follow anyone, no matter how grand they are.”
“He is insane,” Mutnedjmet said. “He will lose his throne. Is there another heir?”
“He has only one sickly older sister.”
As they talked I felt such emotion that I was afraid I would faint. To me, the crown prince represented an irresistibly attractive, fabulous story. But I did not come to any particular conviction then. One evening I overheard my father secretly reciting one of the hymns of the new god:
Lord of the beautiful, O Beautiful One,
With your love hearts beat
And birds trill.
You dwell within me, O Lord.
The words became imprinted in my heart forever, and I was elated with joy. I repeated the hymn and let its sweet nectar infuse my soul. Its words attracted me as a butterfly is drawn to light. And like the butterfly, I was burned by that light. I was filled with faith. What a beautiful and peaceful feeling it was! “My Only God,” I whispered, “I believe in you eternally.”
I presented myself to my father and sang the hymn.
“You were listening,” he said with a frown.
I ignored his gentle reproach. “Father, what do you think of the voice he heard?”
“I do not know,” he replied cautiously.
“Can he be lying?”
He thought for a moment, then said, “He never lies.”
“Then it must be true.”
“Perhaps what he heard was a dream,” he said reluctantly.
“Father,” I confessed, “I believe in the One God, the Sole Creator.”
Suddenly he became pale. “Beware, Nefertiti!” he cried. “Keep your secret in your heart, until I can rid your heart of it.”
Then we were invited to the palace for the Sed festival. Tey saw in it an opportunity for her daughters to meet eligible suitors. “You must be seen in the most beautiful dress,” she said. But I was only anxious to see one person—he who had shown me the light of the truth. In the grand hall of the palace I met people with whom I later walked the path of life, with its sweetness and its bitterness—Haremhab, Nakht, Mae, and many others. That night, however, my heart saw no one but Akhenaten. When I first saw him, I was taken aback by his strange appearance. I had pictured him a token of perfection. Instead, he was thin and feeble. His appearance called more for pity than admiration. I admit that I was rather disappointed. But it was a momentary disappointment. I saw beyond his strange features and feeble body a spirit that was singled out by God to receive his divine love, and I secretly vowed my loyalty to this frail creature. He was seated to the right of his father, observing the dance without enthusiasm. My eyes never left him. Indeed, many people noticed that he was the focus of my attention. I shall never forget what Mutnedjmet said to me, suffering the sting of jealousy: “You have set your goal, Nefertiti. Now you will stride toward it.”
I wished that he would see me. And he did. He glanced in my direction and our eyes met for the first time. He almost looked away, but his eyes moved back and he fixed his gaze upon me. I believe he was rather startled at this young woman who regarded him so intently, and with so much longing. I looked at the Great Queen Tiye and saw that she was looking at me. My heart pounded quickly, and my dreams soared in the highest sky. But I never anticipated what followed.
I returned to our palace heaving with excitement and vague desires. Mutnedjmet, however, was sullen.
“I am quite sure now,” she said when we were alone in our room. I asked her what she meant, and she continued, “He is sick and insane.”
“You have only seen him from outside. You know nothing of what is in his heart.”
The next day, when my father returned to the palace he told me that the Great Queen had asked to see me. His announcement shook the entire family, and we looked questioningly at each other.
“I suspect,” my father continued proudly, “that the queen will appoint you one of her maids of honor.”
I went to the royal palace in the company of my father. I was ushered to the queen's resting place overlooking the garden. I bowed before her until she called upon me to rise and sit on a sofa to her right.
“Your name is Nefertiti?” she said. I nodded and she continued softly, “Nefert-iti, The Beautiful One Has Come, a well-deserved name indeed.” I blushed with joy. “How old are you?”
“Sixteen years, my Queen.”
“You look more mature.” She paused for a moment then continued, “Why do you think I summoned you?”
“A fortune beyond what I deserve.”
“Well said, young woman,” she smiled. “Have you acquired some education?”
“Reading, writing, poetry, history, theology, algebra, and home-making,” I replied.
“What do you think of Egypt?”
“Egypt is the mother of the world, and its pharaoh the king of kings.”
“Who is your most cherished deity?” she asked. I detected a keenness in her question.
“Aten, Your Majesty.” I was compelled to hide the truth.
“What about Amun?”
“Amun protects the empire, but Aten circles it every day.”
“One cannot control what the heart loves, but you must realize that Amun is the master of all deities.”
“Indeed I do, Your Majesty.”
“Tell me in all honesty,” she continued, “has your heart ever known the love of a man?”
“No, Your Majesty,” I replied without hesitation.
“Have you had any suitors?”
“Many asked for my hand in marriage, but my father did not consider them suitable.”
She scrutinized my face for a while, then said, “You must have heard what is said about the crown prince's peculiar ideas regarding Amun and the deities. What is your honest impression?”
For the first time I was not able to reply. I remained silent until she continued in a voice laden with authority, “Speak only the truth.”
“What is in the heart belongs to the heart. But the traditions established between the throne and the priests must be preserved.”
“Well spoken!” she said. She appeared relieved. “Speak to me of your dream man. What is he like?”
“He has the strength of a warrior and the soul of a priest.”
She laughed. “You are extremely ambitious. If you had to choose, would it be the warrior or the priest?”
“The soul is more important.”
“In all honesty?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“You are not like other young women,” she exclaimed.
“Life without faith is barren,” I said.
“What is faith without life?”
“There is no faith without life, and no life without faith.”
She remained silent for a while as I struggled to hide my rising excitement.
“Have you seen the crown prince?” she asked at last.
“At the Sed festival, my Queen.”
“What do you think of him?”
“He has a mysterious power that distinguishes him from all other men.”
“I meant, what would you think of him as a husband?”
I was silenced by the surprise. She repeated her question.
“I cannot find the words, my Queen,” I replied, my voice trembling.
“Did you ever dream of being a queen?”
“My dreams have only risen as high as my humble heart.”
“Doesn't the idea of the throne fascinate you?”
“It is a sky too high for my heart to fly in.”
Tiye was silent for a moment. “I have chosen you as a wife for my son, the crown prince.”
I closed my eyes under the intensity of my emotions
. Pulling myself together again, I said, “But the prince doesn't know me, and he's not interested in me.”
“But he abides by my wishes. I am his mother, and he loves me above all else,” she said proudly. “It is impor tant for me to find him a suitable wife. When I saw you I felt that you were his match. I heed my inner feelings just as much as I heed reason.” I was still silenced and overwhelmed. She continued, “But you must remember that as a queen, your duties will come before all else.”
“I hope to rise to your expectations, my Queen.”
“Promise me your unconditional loyalty,” she demanded in a penetrating voice.
“I do,” I replied, unaware of the extent of my commitment.
“I am sure that you will honor your word.”
I could hardly think for joy and gratitude. But the moment I bid the queen farewell and left her chamber, I felt as though my hands were bound in shackles bearing her royal signet. She was a power I could never disregard. I remembered the crown prince and knew that the greatness of his soul would not make him any more appealing as a husband. I realized that I would pay a very high price for glory.
The news was like a thunderbolt to my family. I realize, of course, that Mutnedjmet must have been very bitter, and that Tey probably shared some of that. But still it was joyful news for everyone in the family. My fortune had lifted me to the throne of Egypt, but it had also elevated them to the rank of royalty. Because of that, they showered me with kisses and good wishes. I recalled the prophecy of the old man, and shuddered as I realized that it had in part come true. I wondered if Mutnedjmet, too, would sit on the throne of Egypt. Perhaps she also remembered the prophecy and found some solace in it. “Today, your mother will rest peacefully in her tomb,” my father said when we were alone in his room.
“I hope so,” I said sadly.
“You do not seem happy, my daughter,” he said with a smile and a keen look.
“Reality is more frightening than imagination,” I said earnestly.
“Fate could not grant you a better chance for happiness.”
“Are you certain, Father, that I shall be happy?”
“The throne will bring you glory, but happiness is only in the heart.”
“I believe you, Father.”
“I shall pray that you will be both glorious and happy.”
The marriage took place with unusual haste. The celebration held in the palace was worthy of the great king Amenhotep III and his love of worldly pleasures. Tiye took me to the golden room and sat me on the royal bed, shimmering with gold. I wore a sheer dress with my body naked beneath. The crown prince appeared at the door as the light from the torches danced on the walls. He removed his cloak and approached me in a sheer loincloth, his eyes gleaming. He motioned to me to stand on the bed and held my legs to his chest.
“You are the sun of my life,” he whispered. My soul delighted in his presence, but my body cringed. He continued, “I fell in love with you at the Sed festival. That night I hurried to my mother and told her I wanted to make you my wife.” He laughed joyfully. “At first she denied me my request. She did not want me to marry a girl with no royal blood. When I reminded her that neither was she of royal blood, she feigned anger and dismissed the subject. The next thing she told me was that she had met with you—and she gave me her approval.”
I recalled how Tiye had claimed that my marriage to the crown prince was her idea. I hid my smile. I felt as though I was expected to speak. I wanted what I said to be the truth.
“I believed in your God before I even saw you.”
“What joy!” he cried. “You heard from Ay?”
I nodded. “You are the first woman to believe, Nefertiti,” he said.
I wanted to speak to him longer, to delay the moment when we would lie together. “I want to be the first to sing hymns in his temple.”
“I promise you that,” he whispered, and kissed me. “You shall bear me an heir to the throne.” Suddenly, all the magnificent emotions I had felt disappeared. All that remained was reticence and irritation.
We continued to walk our path together, both as man and wife and as believers. I delved further into the faith with him. His spirit engulfed me and filled me with so much light that I expected God might speak to me as he had spoken to him. As for my body, it convulsed silently every time he came near me. His seed grew inside me. I became pale and ill, as the child within me made a mockery of my beautiful, slender body. Akhenaten dwelled in the truth. He despised all lies and falsehood. I wondered how I would reply if he ever asked me, “Do you love me, Nefertiti?” I knew I could not find the courage to lie to him. I tried to be prepared. “Love will come in time,” I would tell him. I would ask his forgiveness and explain to him that he had taught me to love the truth. Perhaps it would have brought an end to my dreams even before I became queen. But he never asked.
One day Queen Tiye called for me, and as I approached her she looked at me closely. “You must mind your health,” she started. “You are carrying a precious life within you that will soon be part of the history of this country.”
“Pray for me, my Queen.”
“You have a long life ahead of you,” she said confidently. “Do not let fear control your mind.”
“Some things are not in the hands of people,” I replied.
“A queen is more than just ‘people.’” She heaved a sigh.
The queen was destroying my defenses. What a powerful woman she was, just as my father had always described her. My husband loved her dearly, and she regarded him as her sole property. Even after our marriage, I felt the weight of her shackles.
The news about the One God reached the priests and the strife began. During that time I had grown to know the extent of the power my husband possessed within his feeble body. I felt the strength of his spirit, and the intensity of his courage and determination.
“All the stones of the pyramids cannot move me from my position,” he said to me once.
“And I am with you,” I replied.
“Our God shall not forsake us,” he cried.
Even his mother could not persuade him to change his stand. One day, Tiye called me to her chamber. When I walked in I realized that this was perhaps the most important day in my life.
“Has the pregnancy distracted you from following the affairs of Thebes?” she asked.
“The affairs of Thebes are my affairs.” I was prepared for a battle.
“Did your kind words have no influence on your husband?” she asked.
“The words of his God are more powerful.”
“You do not seem saddened or worried.”
“I believe in what he says, my Queen.” My wrists were free at last. With that declaration, I made it known that my love for my God was stronger than my love for the throne.
Tiye glared. “Do you really believe in the Sole Creator?”
“Yes, my Queen.”
“You renounce the deities of Egypt?”
“God is one and has no partner,” I replied.
“Do you believe that other people have the right to worship their gods?”
“My God is not a threat to anyone.”
“But one day your husband will be king, and he must serve all the deities.”
“We serve no other but the One and Only.”
“Your rebellion,” she cried, “shall have the gravest repercussions.”
“God will never forsake us.”
“You promised me your unconditional loyalty,” she said bitterly.
“You are my queen. But God is above all else.”
I returned to my quarters with a heavy heart and tearful eyes. I did not know what destiny held in store for me. Yet I felt at peace. Soon the prince was ordered to tour the empire. I felt that Tiye had begun her punishment. She meant to deprive me of my husband when I was going to deliver my child at any moment. When Akhenaten left, I was gripped by new emotions. The light of life had gone; even the sun had only darkness. I was choked with fear. Nothing could
compensate for my husband's absence, not even having my stepmother, Tey, by my side. I was enshrouded in sorrow. I missed Akhenaten wherever I was and at every hour of the day. I could not believe that he had occupied so much of my life. I realized that, without him, I was not happy. It was then that I became aware that I loved him, not only as my spiritual companion, but as husband and lover. Bitter tears seared my face. I regretted my ignorance and my blindness. I longed for him to return so that I could throw myself at his feet.
Queen Tiye and I went into labor at the same time. I had Meretaten, and the queen bore twins, Smenkhkare and Tutankhamun. When I found out that I had given birth to a girl I was overcome with grief. I heard the whispers of the harem saying that it was the curse of the priests of Amun. They said I would never bear a son as long as I lived.
Around that time, King Amenhotep III married Tadukhipa, the daughter of Tushratta, king of Mitanni, to reinforce the ties of friendship between Egypt and Mitanni. Tadukhipa's beauty was renowned. She entered Thebes in a magnificient procession with three hundred slaves. Tey tried to entertain me by talking about the new princess in the palace. She spoke to me of her wealth and beauty, but added at the end that, of course, no sun shone more brightly than mine. King Amenhotep III adored Tadukhipa, his new bride who was the age of his grandchildren. But the king was not able to savor his newfound happiness for long. For word arrived that the crown prince was preaching his religion throughout the provinces. I was summoned to appear before the king and queen. I did not expect to see the king so frail, but it seemed that he had exhausted himself in the pleasures of life.
“He is mad,” the king cried viciously.
“We can send the armed forces to the provinces to correct the damage that has been done,” Tiye said.
“He has lost the succession to the throne. Nothing we do will help him regain it.”
“Perhaps he will succeed. Perhaps they will heed his words,” I said after a moment's hesitation.
“You are foolish, Nefertiti,” the king shouted. “Just like your husband.”
Akhenaten: Dweller in Truth Page 11
